Bez (he/him, trans man) decides that the best way to earn his forgiveness is for Vin (he/him, cis man) to get his face fucked. A bonus story from the world of The Hero’s Assistant that requires no prior knowledge and does not spoil it! Written for #TDickXmas’s “face fucking someone” prompt.

Click here for content warnings.

Bez primarily uses the terms “dick” and “cock” to refer to his genitals, with one mention of “cunt.” There is a moment of magical mind melding where Bez and Vin share the sensations of each other’s genitals.

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“That was fun,” Vin sings as Bez swipes the hotel key.

He scoffs. “For who?”

The last day of the Mutants in Research Winter Conference lasted as long as it usually does—Fuck-My-Life-O’clock in the morning. The volunteers kept the event running smoothly enough, but they suck shit at herding everyone out when it finally ends.

And it doesn’t help that the hero Dr. Vladimir Vincent Dream attended this year, his tall, muscular figure a signpost, his black-and-gold signature cape a distraction, and his handsome brown face with his long black waves the main attraction.

“For both of us?” Vin laughs, deep voice rumbling. “I took so many pictures of you at your panel that security got nervous. Their thoughts were on how to escort me out without making a scene until they saw who I was.”

“If you had read my thoughts, you would’ve known you were already making one.”

It’s why Bez didn’t want him to come at all. But now they’re finally back at the hotel for the night–morning–and Vin’s pleased humming is just pissing him off. Bez slips off his wool coat and snow-covered boots before walking fully inside.

It’s fancy—one of those places with two bedrooms, a full kitchen, and a living room. The living room has cold wooden floors centering a geometric rug, a television, and a plush couch set that Bez would love to fall asleep on. There’s even a floor mirror, reflecting his white suit that contrasts with his dark brown skin.

He looks damn tired.

“Next year, maybe we could do a panel together.”

Bez turns away from the couch and stares up at Vin. “Have you listened to a word I’ve said?”

Vin tugs loose trapped curls from his bun and fingers through it. “That I… I distracted you?”

Unbelievable.

“Get on your knees.”

“Pardon?”

Vin looks at him, eyebrow arched in question, but it only makes Bez more frustrated. Is it so unbelievable that he’d want to make demands sometimes?

“Knees,” he repeats, firmer.

An insufferable smirk grows on Vin’s handsome face, but he slowly slides down, one knee at a time, on the cool wood floor. Vin tucks the long lock of hair containing his stark white streak behind his ear and peers up at him, smug and expectant.

Bez can see his own glare reflected in Vin’s eyes–barely hidden by errant locs he’d put in a ponytail before giving up the band to Vin.

“Unbuckle.”

“Yes, sir,” Vin says, amusement in his tone.

He takes his time with it, sliding his hands firmly up Bez’s white suit pants before tracing a finger across the leather of his belt. Vin inches his face closer as he hooks into the buckle and slowly slides the prong out. Bez can feel the heat of Vin’s mouth this close, tickling his stomach the more it’s exposed.

The pants fall free, and Vin kisses his black boxers, smiling into his crotch and then kissing down to his dick. Bez hates how much he wanted this all damn day; he’s no better than those gawking fans of his.

Bez wonders if Vin can smell the trapped remnants of his cunt’s arousal as he spreads his legs a little wider.

He grips the back of Vin’s head, clenching him by his hair, before gently pressing him forward. Vin sighs against him and opens his mouth, licking at the thin fabric. 

A slow drag down. An even slower drag up. Brown amber eyes focused up on his face. The scruff of a low-trimmed beard. The dampening of wool-cotton. Bez is entranced by the show before him, finds himself beginning to grind against those plump lips and broad nose.

“You’re so… fucking hot, I can’t stand it,” Bez admits. “Love seeing you all smiling and dressed up. Hate it.”

Vin kisses his crotch again, and Bez yanks him back, a fist full of hair.

“No,” he groans. “Keep it open.”

“Mmm, yes, sir.”

His mouth opens and Bez shoves him back on, grinding harder now as the wet patch makes the thin fabric even thinner to reveal the buds of Vin’s tongue. The texture teases him, making Bez want to just take the boxers off to feel the full heat of that open mouth, but the fabric’s roughness hurts so good. It’s just right–so right–

Vin sucks on the tiny tip of his cock through the fabric, and Bez gasps. His hips stop, and both of his hands grip the top of Vin’s head. Bez throws his own head back, eyes fluttering closed as Vin’s nose presses deeper and deeper in his desperate attempt to enclose more and more of Bez’s cock in his mouth, no matter the fat hairy lips and boxers in his way. The wet suction is suddenly too much and not enough.

Bez pushes Vin’s head off of him and looks back at his grinning expression. Vin already knows what he wants–his hands slide his sticky boxers down, and the cool air only lasts a moment before Vin’s hot mouth encases him again.

With no barriers, Bez’s entire body seems to seize.

“Nn, fuck, Vin. Just like that. Don’t stop.”

His tongue caresses the entire underside of Bez’s twitching dick, and he feels every single rough bud.

“Hahhh more. More.”

Bez buries his fingers anew in Vin’s thick hair and rolls his hips again, this time picking up the pace to fuck himself into Vin’s mouth. He stares down at the reverent expression he takes, smugness replaced with lustful deference and submission. Vin looks beautiful. A rush ripples through him as he stills Vin’s head and holds his gaze, biting his lip to keep from crying out.

Gods, he wants to fuck the shit out of him. This will have to do. Bez smacks his hips against Vin’s face and listens to him moan as he gets his mouth used.

“You like me fucking your face, hm? You moan like you love it. You used to, mm, say how I was addicted to cock. M-maybe it was all projection, huh?”

Vin moans louder in affirmation, drool beginning to drip down his lips, and Bez feels like he’s losing his mind.

“Fuck. Maybe we should mind swap, Vin. I’d pay to see how well you can c-choke on your own dick.”

Bez offers his foot, and Vin spreads his knees immediately, just enough room for Bez to grind his heel against Vin’s crotch to feel the rock hard erection. His trapped dick strains for something, anything, no matter how meager and distant through the pants.

“Wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to get stuck like that for you, would it?” Bez muses as he grinds his heel faster, in time with his thrusts. “I bet you’d love for me to f-fuck you with your own cock and swallow come every night.”

“Can I?” Vin asks,directly into his mind. Bez can feel his emotions unfiltered–desperate and needy for more, the kind of charged heat that pulses through his veins instead of flowing.

He says “Yes,” before pinpointing what Vin is asking for because Bez would agree to anything in this moment.

Vin’s amber eyes flash gold, and the light pressure of magic fizzles everywhere they touch. It happens so fast that Bez’s mind barely has time to register the familiar caress of dreams on his skin and nightmares biting his fingertips.

With every thrust, Bez can feel his own nose brutally smacked with musky happy trail and his tongue reamed with the sweet tang of slick dick. Fuck, his dick is bigger in his mouth than he expects. With the way he’s thrusting, he can’t tell if his cock is one or two or even three inches. His mouth is sore, but it feels good, and the pressure of an eager foot on his groin feels great. 

Vin is close. Heat reverberates from Vin to Bez to Bez to Vin to Vin and Bez from Vin and–

Oh. He’s going to come.

The realization of it only edges him on more. Yes. He’s going to come in Vin’s mouth and his mouth; he’s going to fuck himself and Vin until it hurts, and he’s going to feel Vin’s tongue in his mouth and on his dick the entire time it’s happening.

“Shit…”

Heat and electricity shoot through Bez’s groin. He’s too sensitive but forces himself not to pull away when the rolling sensations explode through him.

“Vin… Vin… Just like that…”

So good. So beautiful. So good. So beautiful. Bez’s hand relaxes and massages across Vin’s scalp–his scalp–as he gasps through his–their–peak. He’s not shooting ropes, but he feels them and the way they press against tight boxers and pants. When the pleasure turns painful, he pulls his hips back out of Vin’s mouth–his mouth–and sighs as he watches himself twitch against Vin’s lips.

The magic dissipates like a daydream–it eases off his lips and dick and scalp. Bez is only one person again but no less exhausted.

“Sooo good, Vin,” he praises. Bez leans down to plant a kiss on his soaked lips.

Vin opens his mouth for more, and Bez indulges him, gently sliding their tongues together, biting his lip, kissing and kissing until neither of them can breathe.

He plants a final kiss on his nose and gazes into Vin’s half-lidded eyes. Something twists in his chest, and he reminds himself that one day he’ll go home to his own dimension.

“You should do that more often,” Vin murmurs.

Bez’s lip upturns. “I should. You always look amazing on your knees.”

Vin laughs, and Bez helps him stand up from the floor. The difference in their height returns and, for some reason, Bez doesn’t feel quite so small. When it comes to having sex, it never seems to matter.

“Shall we head to bed?”

Bez nods and gently leads him by the hand to the bedroom, then pushes him to sit on the edge of the bed. He unbuckles Vin, and they both sigh when his cock is freed from its pants-ly prison.

Vin was right about one thing–he is addicted to cock. Not that Vin minds because he watches Bez, entranced, the entire kneel down.