【转载】Cicero&Listener【机械化动物吧】

The Listener was a beautiful man. A handsome man, oh, yes.
Cicero didn't realize he could be so enamoured, so entranced and starstruck by any living person. The Night Mother, of course. If she were alive once more, he would follow her everywhere, he would attend to her every whim, and he was sure that in her life she had been a beautiful, beautiful woman.
But of course, the Night Mother wasn't very active company those days, and when the maddening loneliness, that eternal silence drove him into painfully dizzy fits, he needed only to look towards the Listener to know that he had someone to follow.
And follow him he would, over spikes, through fire, into the jaws of a dragon, if only to hear another word from him, another whim, request, remark, anything! His voice was so sweet. His body so strong. His kills so perfect.
On a bitter cold night, after a job well done, he and the Listener were staying within the warm confines of Candlehearth Hall. They shared the same room, and Cicero watched the Listener intently. The Nord was shirtless, dabbing a rag into the wash basin and scrubbing it over his body. As he wiped away the sweat that had gathered under his leather armor, his chest glistened, and Cicero could not (and would not) conceal his fascination.
The Listener raised a brow as Cicero continued to stare.
"Enjoying the show, Cicero?"
Cicero wondered what his beloved Listener meant by this. Never before had he protested or even acknowledged Cicero's adoring gaze, simply allowing him to watch as he changed his armor or washed off, only prompting him to turn around when he was about to expose his most... intimate areas.
"Does the Listener not appreciate Cicero's gaze? Shall Cicero turn around? Go to bed?" His eyes widened, and he fidgeted, wringing his hands and shifting from foot to foot.
"You do like looking at me, don't you?"
"Of course!" Cicero didn't hesitate, voice cracking with enthusiasm. "The Listener is a fine man to watch. I am honored every moment I am in your presence, dear Listener. Why would Cicero not want to watch you?"
"Oh, Cicero," The Nord chuckled in his deep, soft voice. "My loyal friend."
Cicero's heart leapt at the word of praise.
"Loyal until the day -"
"Until the day one of us dies horribly in service of the Mother," The Listener's smile widened, easily recalling their agreement.
"The Listener always remembers!"
"Of course I do." He was silent for a moment, in thought. "Do you know what I think?"
"Cicero could not begin to imagine. Perhaps... of knives? Perhaps of the elegant curve of a sword? Perhaps of his loyal Cicero's finesse as he helps the Listener destroy a helpless victim?"
"Perhaps Cicero is a bit off the mark," The other man responded fondly. "I think I enjoy you watching me."
Cicero's eyes lit up with glee.
"Anything that pleases you. I will continue to watch!"
"Even as I remove the rest of my armor?"
Cicero's hands twitched in a jolt of excitement.
"Truly? Cicero may watch?"
"I want you to," He said quietly, unbuckling the straps and shuffling out of the tough leather. Beneath was only a thin pair of pants to protect his skin - it occurred to the jester that he had not even seen that much of the Listener before.

The Nord watched Cicero carefully, and slid his thumbs under the edge of his pants. Cicero's hands began twitching and fidgetting again, wishing the Listener would not tease him so. He could almost see, he could almost see what was under!
"Please," He squealed impatiently after a few moments without movement. The Listener smirked, and slid them down - and Cicero felt his whole body buzz and tingle with excitement as, for the first time, he saw what the Listener had so cruelly hidden from him, eyes fixed on his thick, long member. (He muttered to himself that he would have expected no less of the Listener.)
The other man remained calm, and, after giving letting him have a good look, turned to dip the wash rag into the water again. Cicero was then given a view of his beautifully tight buttocks - it was maddening, simply maddening.
It wasn't enough. It wasn't enough at all, but Cicero vowed to himself that he would not do anything that he was not allowed to do. But if only the Listener would say the word...
The Listener spread his legs and bent over, slowly washing them, running the cloth up his calves, to his inner thighs, around to his rear (a particularily lovely sight to Cicero.) He turned back around, then, to the jester's delight and frustration, began washing between his legs, working the soft cloth around his length. Cicero swallowed.
"The Listener is so perfect," He breathed, feeling that tingling throughout his body beginning to channel into a needful warmth between his legs.
"Could you do me a favor, Cicero?"
"Anything at all," Cicero's head felt feather-light.
"Come here and make sure I haven't missed a spot."
Cicero was certain his heart stopped.
"Cicero doesn't understand."
"Feel my skin. Make sure I'm good and clean," The Nord instructed, gesturing for Cicero to approach him. Cicero's cheeks were flushed with arousal, and he couldn't believe what he was hearing. Was he imagining things? Cicero was very good at imagining things, and thought that perhaps he was simply having a particularily desperate spell of madness. But no, the Listener was right there, and he vaguely heard him repeat his instructions.
Snapping out of his dazed state, Cicero hurried to his side, and his hands trembled as he lifted them up.
"...The Listener is... certain this is alright?" He could touch the listener? Right there, on the bare skin? And the listener wanted it?
"It's more than alright, Cicero." With that, the Listener took one of his shaking hands and placed it on his chest. Cicero remained still for a moment, heart racing, before placing down his other hand, and he began to trail his fingers over the Nord's muscular form. Lower down, over his stomach, savoring the contact, savoring every moment he could touch him.
He greedily wondered where else he could touch when his hands came to rest, looking up at the Listener for guidance - he could simply die, simply die, if he did something wrong just then.
He didn't have to keep dreaming - the Listener took his hand once more and placed it on his member, and Cicero felt, right there in his bare hand, that his beloved leader was stiffening from his touch. He moaned in excitement.

西塞罗的YY文！！

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【转载】Cicero&Listener

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