Chapter Text
Avoidance surrounded the physicality of Andrew and Aesop’s relationship. It was easier to engage in some aspects of touch, though when it came to matters more intimate with a lot more skin it was nearly impossible to bring things to completion. It wasn’t that they hadn't tried such things, more so that one or both parties put an end to what they were doing before their roaming hands got very far. The grave keeper was notorious for pulling gloved fingers away from less familiar territory.
Aesop really hadn't minded all that much. He would never push his lover beyond what he was comfortable with. He himself was somewhat unsure just how much pleasure he would find in anything more than their brief liplock. The embalmer had never partaken in such invasive behavior. Especially the kind that entailed wandering hands, lips, and tongues acting on their devious desires behind closed doors. Though his unease did not keep him from wanting to try copulation of some form, he was only human after all. Furthermore, he suspected Andrew had wanted to go further than chaste kisses and intertwined fingers, just as he did.
However, there were obvious religious factors holding the fairer skinned man back from acting on his rather unholy desires. Were one of them female, perhaps the only thing that would prevent them from delving into more sensual acts would be marriage. However, both of their male gender identities meant their situation was far more complex.
Tonight, Aesop would press the question as to why they had not tried to go further. It hadn't been intentional. He himself was weary of touch for the most part, Andrew was really the only person he enjoyed any form of physical contact. Even then he preferred restraining from frequent shows of affection. In the embalmer’s room, they held one another in a slow dance. It wasn't much of a proper dance at all as Andrew had two left feet, they followed no particular pattern. The larger male's hands rested at his lover's hips while Aesop's own hands resided on the other's shoulders.
"Were this a serious lesson you would learn that our chests should be so close that we could hold a newspaper between the two of us without the use of our hands."
This was the gray-haired man who spoke, informing his partner, gently tugging the gentleman closer. This bridged the gap that had remained, filling the once empty space with warmth. Andrew, lanky though he was, still had such muscular definition that being pressed so close was an opportunity to feel the sturdy build of his chest. It left room for the imagination to picture all that was hidden under his usually grim garments. Tonight he wore the white coat of the choir uniform provided to him. The light color made him appear brighter. Aesop matched in his own clothing, similar to his usual casual wear only it was all white rather than grey.
The pair paced small circles in one another's arms, content with the simplicity of the movement.
"I wouldn't have expected such closeness in a dance meant to be so formal." There was a warm smile on the grave keeper's lips. It was a delightful sight on him. Compared to the passive frown that usually resided on his mouth. This small grin he shared now was saved for the company of his beloved and close friends.
"It is meant to be something romantic. Wives dance this close to their husbands, as do men performing this dance to impress those they wish to court."
"You have already done a well enough job at courting me, am I meant to be your wedded lover now?" Since growing so close, Aesop learned that his dearest companion was fond of teasing him. Whether it be in a joking manner or more romantic.
"If one day you would allow me, I wouldn't at all mind that we be joined in whichever way you please. There's a number of ways in which we might be joined, Andrew." The mortician learned as well, that he enjoyed teasing him back, causing his usually shy man to become flustered. Playing along with his own statement his hands moved from his partner's shoulders to find his neck and lower the other into a kiss. In doing so, Aesop had to lift his heels, as Andrew's height required him to do so.
His lover complied, having slowly grown more comfortable with the simple act of their lips meeting. The mental block that held him back in the beginning, less of an issue, as he had grown to enjoy the feelings and implications of touch . His large hands gripped Aesop's hips, as he leaned down some to make the motion easier on his partner. The closeness they shared ebbed with tension Andrew was still largely weary of. The press of their bodies urged him to seek out more than their well acquainted mouths. This was a want he largely ignored, having only skimmed his hands and lips elsewhere..
Testing the waters, following his instincts, the embalmer added depth, following Andrew's lips with an open mouthed kiss. The grave keeper must have subconsciously sought to do the same as his tongue delved into the warmth of his beloved's mouth. Surprise found them both, a pleased hum leaving the shorter man's throat. Andrew groaned as they explored this added sensation. They had kissed before but never had the devout believer attempted to do so with his tongue dragging over teeth and lips. As it turned out the feeling was delightful for them both.
Though as it went with Andrew, it hadn't lasted long before he made to pull back. Not before Aesop could protest by gently biting the other's lower lip, fingers tugging at the ends of platinum blonde hair.
Their breaths came short as their mouths disengaged. Andrew's shivering ruby eyes searched Aesop's charcoal ones, landing on his slicked lips after.
"By joined you mean more than rings and a priest blessing our union." He accused, his focus split in multiple directions.
"I mean exactly what we have done, what more we could do. Our being together is something that can be furthered not only by a blessing on a piece of paper. I don't believe that I'm alone in wanting to experience intimate touch with you. Even more so now." Aesop's expression searched his companion's.
"If I am wrong please tell me. I won't push the matter again. But if not then show me. I want to feel you, Andrew. You can touch me. I won't fall apart."
Taking a moment, the pale skinned grave digger considered his lover's feelings and his own. Of course, he wanted more intimacy with Aesop. He wanted to know what the other looked like bare beneath his clothes, what touch brought him white-hot pleasure. It wasn't that he hadn't daydreamed about these unspeakable desires before, only that it felt forbidden to imagine such circumstances let alone bring them to fruition.
"Of course I have wanted these things with you, only that I haven't felt right to pursue my wants in something so sensual." This body of his modeled in God's own image, it was unholy to make a mockery of his lord's gift by tainting it with sexual intent.
"You are not wrong for something you can't help. You're not wrong for loving me or wanting to show that love in a more personable way. Sin or not, it is forgiven. Theft, which you have committed is a sin. Lust is sin, masturbation is sin, these things are unavoidable and natural. Your Christ died so that these acts are forgiven. If this is all true, why continue to carry guilt and abstain from appeasing these desires?"
Aesop was not a believer in the faith but having Andrew as his partner he took care in having the basic knowledge of its commandments. He did not mean to be insensitive but to help free his beloved of this baggage he carried for humanity's most basic instincts.
"You make fair points, however, the teachings are quite different coming from a clergy, so it has been hard for me to stray from their direct word of our lord. But I do want to engage in more than what we have. If we were to carry through with more, I want to start slow.."
This was by far much more than Aesop had expected coming from someone who had bent entirely to the will of the catholic faith for years. He was of course delighted to hear that they might start to try sensual acts that each of them have dreamt of.
"Thank you for opening up about the matter, and for trusting me with this. We can of course take things at a slow pace. This will be entirely new to me and I'm sure it could be uncomfortable at times. If anything we do is not okay on either of our ends we will stop for the moment."
Aesop took the grave digger's hands and placed them on his own face, enjoying the feeling of his lover's calloused fingers holding him so gently. That night ended with Andrew returning to his room, repeating Aesop’s words of assurance in his head.
It was some time before these words proved their worth in meaning.
It was days later, following a rough match, the gravely pair took a bath together in one of the manor’s provided private bathrooms. Aesop got to filling the bathtub with warm water while his lover lit candles for lighting. They had both wanted to make their soak as relaxing as possible. Their hunter had been a new opponent, its name origin lying in a torture device. The breaking wheel. Needless to say it was brutal. Especially so as their given location was the Moonlit River Park, a hellish place for Andrew due to the sun’s unbearable rays. Door locked to the rest of their peers, the pair finally had some peaceful time alone.
This would be the first time either of them had seen the other in the nude. Andrew removed his black garments, setting them aside in a pile while Aesop did the same.. He was particularly unnerved by such exposure. He hated the idea of living company to begin with, and while this was his lover, it still didn’t take away the fact that he had never shown so much of his skin to anyone. He had his back turned as he stripped away each layer.
Andrew did the same, not so confident in the appearance of his bare body. With the complexion of his skin that most saw as ‘unnaturally’ pale, he felt as though he looked dead. Not to mention the scar tissue that mapped over his skin. How it came to be that Aesop could be attracted to the looks of him, he couldn’t fathom. Once undressed, he slid into the bath, thankful that it was large enough to accommodate his height. He had been unaware that his beloved watched him enter. Andrew felt heat rise in his face. Aesop was gorgeous. He was quite frankly stunned, as so it seemed was the embalmer.
“You cheated by turning back while my eyes were cast away you know?” Andrew spoke, voice trembling with the first words he said.
“You’ve gotten me back by looking up.” Aesop’s vision diverted, his hands gathering in front of himself, tightly clasping his hands, thumbs rubbing against each other.
“Curiosity killed the cat. Come on in.” Andrew’s hand motioned for his lover to join him, sensing his unease being on display as he was.
Aesop hesitantly lowered himself into the water, fitting snugly in his lap, which brought the antisocial embalmer to the quick realization of just how close the two of them were. Days ago, Andrew would not go so far as to be bare chested around Aesop not only due to his catholic guilt but because of his fear built around his near translucent skin, and yet, here they were fully exposed to one another.
Aesop was slowly allowing his stiff limbs to loosen, anxiety over such intimacy leached out of his skin. It went without saying that such vulnerability was difficult for them both. Two recluses had finally crawled out of their webs to greet the vast possibilities of touch and companionship. It would be difficult for the embalmer especially since he’d had so little interaction with the living. However, this was Andrew whom he trusted without question.
The grave keeper leaned back against the frame of the tub, his eyes falling shut while his head laid on the porcelain edge. The light from today's match had left his eyes stinging, it was nice to finally give them a break. A sigh escaped him, shoulders shaking as the sound left. He pushed away the nagging thought that reminded him how his lover's backside brushed right over his genitalia as he had gotten in the bath. The skin to skin feeling was so new and present at the forefront of his mind though it was short-lived.
"I know today's match was hard on you. Are you feeling alright now that it's done with?" Hesitantly, Aesop settled back into his partner, the ends of his hair meeting the water as he tipped his head back against Andrew's chest.
The movement sent feelings to both of their nerves, Aesop feeling his anxiety spike and weave under his skin once more. He hadn’t given thought to how their anatomy might briefly connect with movement. It took some readjusting to prevent further flustering from either party.
“Better now that we’re here. If being underground didn’t give me such claustrophobia I would have liked to stay buried the entire match. I almost wished I had been chaired and sent off first. It frightens me to be in a place so bright, hurts my eyes, and would burn my skin were it not so well covered. I miss the overcast skies that hung over the Lutz Cemetery.”
Once he had some time to rest his strained eyes, the larger male used his fingers to comb through Aesop’s hair. He loved to see the gray tresses set loose from their usual tie, to drag his hands through the soft locks. His beloved mortician leaned into the touch. He always enjoyed when Andrew played with his hair, and when the man gripped at it in their few heated kisses. Without much thought his mind slipped, taking into account that he may quite like Andrew pulling at the longer strands once they got deeper into sensual matters. This was an idea he would like to entertain when his lover's bare body was not so closely pressed to his in such a calming manner.
"The good news is we shouldn't be matched for a few days now that we've played today. You and I can spend some time together without being dragged out to be made a spectacle of." The embalmer said this with relief. He wouldn't be made to interact with the other survivors whose company put him at unease.
"Speaking of our time together, I might like to try some of what we mentioned the other day between our dancing lessons in your room. If you would be interested, that is."
The stone-eyed man sat forward so that he could turn around to look back at the now flushed grave keeper in the candlelight.
"If you're sure, I'm not opposed. Would you like to return to my room or yours?"
"I feel as though I would mind the mess less than you would. After we finish whatever it is, I can care for my laundry later.."
The thought was nice, how his beloved took into account his cleanliness. Andrew wouldn't mind replacing his sheets at a later time so that they could clean up themselves and have Aesop's made bed to sleep in after their experimentation. The embalmer nodded, agreeing to this plan, laying back in the welcoming chest of his lover.
"What might you like to do? When we arrive in your room that is."
"I'd like to intimately get to know your body, where it dips and curves, rises and turns into sharper edges. Pass my hands over your smooth skin and press kisses to the places your flesh moves over bone. Introduce my fingers to the more delicate places of you. These are all the things that have been on my mind since before you confronted me. I have pictured you in my dreams, corrupted thoughts caressing my mind."
He spoke in poems, words so gentle for such erotic acts. Aesop's breath shuttered in his chest, caught off guard by the admittance. He hadn't expected such phrases from Andrew's holy mouth. Those lips had uttered many prayers and now he spoke of his carnal desires as though they were the lord's scripture. Perhaps if religious texts had come from a voice enthralling as the angel's behind him, Aesop could know the meaning of faith.
The embalmer cataloged the images his mind created from the syllables that met his ears. Arousal warmed his stomach, the feeling spreading through him like a hungry flame. Andrew felt it too. The thrum of energy stringing their wants to each other, his hands sought out purchase around the other's middle. Those long fingers of his ghosted over the man's torso trekking over the indentations where his ribs laid under skin.
"If you plan to do all of this tonight perhaps we should get on with it."
So, they did. The two of them dried, put on their change of clothes. Simple loose white button-downs, the both of them wrapped in a robe in case they ran into any other survivors in the halls.
Once behind the closed door to Andrew's room, the pair removed the unnecessary outerwear.
"Show me all that you've thought of doing with me?"
He didn't have to ask twice, the taller male took his lover's hand, leading him to the empty bed. Andrew took a seat, drawing his companion into his lap, Aesop's legs hesitantly wrapping around him. He took a breath, relishing in the simple skin to skin contact. His hand took Aesop's chin, thumb dragging over the man's lower lip. Leaning forward, he captured his partner's lips between his own. His tongue parted the fine pink mouth that melded with his. That other large hand of his resided on the embalmer's hip.
The stoney eyed mortician sucked the tongue that delved between his lips, drawing a foreign sound from Andrew, a newly acquired skill that he took a fair amount of pleasure in. His own hands laced his lover's throat, gliding down his neck, one found the cursed cross that Andrew wore daily. He held tight to the symbol, the corners of his occupied mouth turning upward slightly. Tonight God would be forgotten, and Aesop he would draw new hymns from Andrew's lips. He would be the only christ the blonde could speak of, become the grave keeper's new religion, if only just for tonight. His unoccupied hand drifted to his beloved's chest, popping buttons on the white nightshirt.
Andrew's hands began to wander as well, slipping up the loose-fitting fabric that matched his own. He was true to his word, fingertips following the plains of porcelain skin, mapping out his lover's divine figure. Briefly breaking the kiss, the grave keeper's mouth went after new expanses of skin. The scarred lips placed open-mouthed kisses along the sharp jaw that he admired every chance he got, went further as to follow the path of Aesop's neck. Running on his actions rather than thoughts, he gently pushed his partner flat to the bed.
His own shirt hung open on his chest, revealing a myriad of scars he would rather forget. Here on his shoulder, were the burns of hot irons. There toward his sternum, the ragged drag of shattered glass, near his navel, the prodding pokes of pitchforks and warped skin from improper stitches. It was clear, the many reasons why he feared the living and was anxious to bear his skin to the world. He sat up, pausing his lip's practiced worship on Aesop’s marble-carved body as he caught the glass-eyed stare of his beloved.
Those usually gloved hands came up to trace the scars marring the grave keeper’s skin. He hadn’t realized just how deep the brutality that his beloved had suffered ran. If he were able, he would have removed such sick souls from this world. Any and all who dared to be so heartless had no place among the living. No right to tarnish the beauty of his dearest love.
“Come here, Andrew, please allow me.”
He could not remedy these old wounds, but he could cover them in the gentleness and love that such an angelic being deserved. All who had dealt him harm had not known that they were demonizing a saint. There was no one so kind as Andrew. He who buried the good-natured no matter their class status, who would not hurt a fly. He had the largest heart of any man, this Aesop knew as fact.
And so the mortician's tongue would become a balm for his serene soul, his fingers a gauze to bandage damage done long ago.
The larger male moved to straddle his partner who leaned up to kiss the streaks of scar tissue, caressing the staggered lines. His tongue traced the fair pink buds on Andrew's chest as his hands continued to lavish appreciation over the rest of the man's torso.
"The heavens did an immaculate job creating you. There's not a thing I'd change to better you." Aesop followed the path of destruction left behind on his beloved, adorning him with new markings, blooms of purple and pink. These all lead up his chest, a line of violet up that fine china throat, landing his final press of lips to Andrew's forgotten mouth. The grave keeper shed the thin white fabric completely now, making efforts to rid Aesop of his matching nightshirt.
Goosebumps rose over his skin at such praiseful phrases. Andrew found the words misplaced. There was no perfection outside of heaven's court. He was no divine creature. He was flawed just as the lord planned. But each and every one of these imperfections of his had drawn the embalmer in. It was this that made him glad that he had been born so distant from the average of all God's other many beautiful creations.
Before long, he had drawn back from all the attention he received, taking Aesop's hands in his own, pressing his lips to the palms of them. From here he left the limbs on his violin hips where his lover gripped for a firm hold. The blonde's fingers tested new limits now, pinching and twisting his companion's nipples, drawing a sigh from fine lips. Still he longed for more. If this was divine, any more would be rapture. The grave keeper leaned back some, anticipation for what was to come growing, which was evident in his length that twitched from the sight of the man before him. His countless dreams of this occurrence paled in comparison to reality.
His lover's physique matched the beauty of Michelangelo's greatest works. To see Aesop Carl was to have met the marble carved David given life. To feel him was to understand the blessing of touch in its truest form. A gift so sacred when experienced in such a manner that Andrew was sure this was higher than any religious experience. This was enlightenment. His soul bore no anguish in the moments that their flesh met. He would write tomes recollecting their love for lifetimes after.
Hesitantly, he reached lower, taking hold of Aesop's hardened cock. Which elicited a hum of pleasure from his partner who squeezed Andrew's hips tighter. He ran his thumb over the flushed pink skin at the tip of his partner's dick, admiring the curves of its head and divet of his slit. Shaking breaths left his beloved, whose eyes pressed shut tight and tongue made passage over quivering lips. His hand wrapped around the length of Aesop's dick beginning to work the shaft in slow motions, gauging what seemed to feel best to the other. The tempo remained at a slow pace, allowing his lover to adjust to the new sensation of someone else giving him such intimate stimulation. The hands on Andrew's hips fell lower, seeking to provide the same attention.
"Andrew, I want to feel you." Aesop's voice was airy, wrought with the immensity of what he felt and wanted more of. Wanton abandonment gave way to the grave keeper's neglect of his own pleasure. Andrew licked his hand for added lubricant, then took his own dick in hand which was leaking at the head, and joined their members together. His long fingers wrapped around them, the result enough to pull a sigh of relief and surprise from Andrew. Aesop gave a quiet groan at the added sensitivity. From here on he began the slow pumping motions again, inciting a soft moan past his bitten shut lips. The fingers at his sides that had dropped lower resided on pale thighs, clawing at the skin with dull nails.
Andrew was never one to use the lord's name in vain but it seemed so that his other half took no issue in the matter.
“Christ, continue you’re doing so well, Andrew please.”
The embalmer faced away his head tilted to the side, while he spoke between short breaths. Such words drove more passion into their copulation, Andrew's hand moving quicker with the utterance of his name. The grave keeper tightened his grip slightly, reveling in the added pressure. His heart was rattling his ribcage with how quick it beat in his chest. Voice shaking he pleads Aesop's name, subconsciously lifting his hips searching for completion. This did something that the both of them enjoyed, the slide of Andrew’s cock against Aesop’s made the gravekeeper’s stomach pool with molten pleasure that built with the movement. So he continued to thrust into his closed fist a huff of a moan leaving him at the feeling. His eyes that had fallen shut opened up to see Aesop’s wrecked expression. He felt his length twitch in his hand against his lover's weeping dick and allowed his head to fall back.
It was then that Aesop spared a glance up at his partner. What he saw stole the air from his lungs. Andrew was beautiful to begin with but this was beyond the bounds of beauty’s definition. One of the hands that were at Andrew’s thighs moved, he licked his index finger and thumb before using the wet digits to twist and pull at his own flushed nipples. He allowed an unabashed moan of his lover’s name to leave his parted lips, closing his eyes once more, breath coming short. They were both unbearably close. Aesop’s hips moved in sync with his partner’s thrusts, chills going through his spine at Andrew’s followed sigh of Aesop’s name.
The pair both sought out their completion, following a rhythm entirely their own. Andrew's hand aided the movement of their hips, his thumb sweeping over the wetness gathering at the tips of their dicks. A few strokes later and Aesop came, white painting his bare chest. He gasped a swear, clawing down his thighs leaving red trails in his wake. Andrew's climax followed not long after, egged on by the sight and sound of Aesop's own final throes of pleasure. The grave keeper's bangs fell over his red eyes, riding out the final waves of his finish. His cum gathered on the other's skin and his own hand, adding to the mess. He caught his breath, leaning back to sit before his spent lover.
There was silence aside from their shared breathing, both amazed and wrought by what they had just experienced together. Andrew reached for his abandoned shirt, wiping his hand clean, then offering the fabric to Aesop to do the same for himself. The embalmer gladly took the offered cloth, removing the mess of white that streaked his skin.
After a moment of gaining their composure, Andrew turned to gauge Aesop’s expression. The man shared his gaze, his mouth curving in a small smile. He leaned over to peck Andrew’s cheek.
“Thank you, my love. I enjoyed each minute of it. I hadn't expected so much out of tonight.”
Andrew shifted to lay on his side, fully facing his lover; his body, newly adorned with loving bruises was on full display.
“Neither did I, truthfully I was unsure of how this would all carry through but I’m thankful to have shared this experience with you, Aesop.” The grave keeper’s fair skin was flushed over the higher points of his frame, he wore a somewhat sheepish smile still surprised by himself and his partner.
Aesop was infinitely thankful for the life that coursed through Andrew’s veins. This was one person he would never wish death to take. He looked ethereal in the afterglow of something so physically demanding. Little did the embalmer know that his companion thought the same of him.
“As am I, I care for you deeply Andrew. I apologize for leaving so soon but I would like to go take a proper shower, after you do the same I’ll meet you in my room?” He gathered his forgotten nightshirt donning it and his robe.
“Of course, I will see you later on tonight..”
And so the mortician took his leave, of course this meant Andrew was alone with his thoughts.
It just so happened that most of these thoughts were rather blissful and left him at ease. He took refuge in the comforting image of his lover lain bare in rapture before him. There was an insurmountable deal of trust that was proven through their earlier endeavor. Andrew felt a new appreciation for the body he was born in. That someone else found beauty in it. That it allowed him to experience such physical forms of love, from hugs, kisses to all of the filth it was capable of. Perhaps guilt would continue to haunt him, though he was decided that he could abstain from grieving for his sins for now, and wallow in the joy he felt.