Chapter Text
Ike is in a great mood the next morning as he follows Soren to his office, staring at his ass as he walks in front of him. “So today’s prompts are prone and choking. Technically scat too, but I know we both veto that. Prone and choking though, that’s right up your alley, right?”
“Are you really willing to choke me?” Soren asks back as he scans a document in his hand.
“Sort of,” he says, “the book pointed out that my arm around your neck is technically me choking you, only as long as I don’t tighten it too much it gives you the freedom to press your throat as much or little as you want.”
Soren pauses in his walk and Ike has to quickly halt himself lest he run into him. “Oh.”
He moves in front of him just to make sure - and yep, he looks interested, like he hadn’t thought of that before, as opposed to nervous or disgusted. “Think about it?”
“I will,” he agrees, and then they both look at the intake door when they hear an impatient knock. It is, of course, not an intake day. Ike feels himself bristling. In contrast Soren deeply sighs, resigned. “Bets on who’s pestering us now?”
He thinks. “Another snob from Begnion trying to get us to come down there.”
“A solid guess. Judging from my life recently, I’m guessing it’s Bastian again, Aimee, or Lethe.” As in, the three people not currently at the fort who annoy him the most. They walk together to the door and Soren opens it, revealing it is in fact Lethe.
Ike still holds a grudge against her for holding Soren at crossbow point all those years ago, although he can logically get that she thought he’d somehow kidnapped or hurt Ranulf. Still he finds himself moving in front of Soren on instinct. “Hi, welcome to the fort, what do you need?”
Her arms are crossed and she’s scowling - but that means nothing because she’s always scowling. “I’m here for Skrimir.”
“Thank fuck,” Soren says with undisguised relief from behind him. “He needs to go home already.”
“Agreed,” the cat says as she marches past them, on a mission. Curious, Ike follows as she makes a beeline for Skrimir, somehow - obviously she can smell him out, because she finds him even though he’s hiding inside one of the kitchen cupboards. Ike is genuinely impressed. “King Skrimir! The negotiations should be over!”
“They aren’t!” he protests from his hiding spot.
She marches over to the cupboard and opens it. He is squished in there pretty good, but he manages to reach out and pull the door shut again. “King Skrimir,” she says more firmly, “You have a country to run.”
“I am, from here,” he argues.
She opens the door again. He closes it again. This happens four more times, each time her face getting redder. Ike is still confused as to how he even got in there in the first place.
“Fine, we’ll do this the hard way,” she growls, whipping out a stone. It glows in the palm of her hand as she says into it, “He’s gone rogue.” So much for the magic being so fancy-shmancy and Begnion only.
It is less than ten minutes later that Lyre, Ranulf, Kyza and Mordecai arrive too, and Ike can’t stop watching this fascinating situation a little guiltily. They can’t get the leverage to drag him out, so instead they somehow bust out screwdrivers and mallets and start taking apart the cabinet. Oscar is going to be pissed. Eventually it’s weakened enough that Skrimir’s sheer weight makes it fall apart and he comes tumbling out.
Ike expects Skrimir’ll make a run for it, but Mordecai has already blocked the exit. So, Skrimir lays on the ground like a limp fish. The other five felines each grab a limb, with Lyre grabbing his tail of all things, and working together they get him about two feet before he shifts and they all collapse in a giant pile. He stays shifted, a massive lion just taking up most of the space in a relatively small room.
The group reconvenes to discuss this. “We might need to send a message to King Caineghis,” Mordecai suggests.
Ranulf is visibly exasperated. “He’s not scared of Caineghis. We’ll have to summon Giffca.” Skrimir protests this - Ike may not be able to understand his words, but his tone is pretty obvious.
“In the meantime, maybe we can lure him out with buffalo and catnip?” Lyre suggests, not looking optimistic. “Except I’m not hunting any buffalo. They scare me.”
“Then why did you suggest it?” Lethe demands of her. She sticks her tongue out at her.
“We could dismember him,” Kyza suggests dully.
“You always say that, but it’s always illegal,” Ranulf retorts. “And so is blowing him up, setting him on fire, setting the building on fire, or any other war crimes.”
“You have to admit you’re tempted, though,” Kyza replies breezily, looking at their nails disinterestedly.
“Of course I am! But for some reason he is our king and that would be considered treason.”
Skrimir rolls onto his back, legs spread and completely relaxed. He is very smug and obviously not offended at the threats to his health and safety.
“Does he still have a crush on the Parentless boy? Maybe we can offer him a kiss,” Lethe volunteers.
“No,” says Ike, getting all their attention. “Keep thinking.”
“Are you going to stand there gawking, or will you actually do something useful?” Ranulf accuses.
“Gawking. Is this the real reason why your king stays home in war? Because when they leave they won’t go home?”
“You’re somewhat smarter than you look, not that that says much,” Lethe retorts rather cattily. He’s not offended, for obvious reasons. “This is a common problem. There’s no good solution. We could move him by each shifting and biting on, but that would cause a fight.”
“And be very awkward and taste bad,” Mordecai agrees. “So, we wait?” None of his teammates look happy at the suggestion.
Ike is torn. Overall he doesn’t like the idea of waiting. He feels he can’t really drop his guard with all these guests around. But seeing Giffca have to browbeat Skrimir into complying like he’s a dumb cub might be worth it. “You’re all welcome to stay, I guess. Not sure where you’ll sleep, but we’ll figure it out. And I’ll get Priam to annoy Skrimir in the meantime.”
“As if summoned by magic, Priam the Hero has arrived!” said boy declares dramatically from behind him, and Ike turns in time to see him strike a pose with his hands on his hips. “I’m bored.”
“Shocker,” says Ike. “Uncle Skrimir needs to go home, can you help?”
Priam scoffs. “Of course! Although I don’t want him to go home, he’s pretty cool and he owes me a ride. But I can get him to go!” He saunters past Ike and starts to try to push Skrimir out. As one can imagine, he doesn’t get far. Skrimir knocks him over, curls up beside him, and starts licking his hair. Priam is not pleased, but Skrimir purrs loudly.
“Good luck,” Ike says with amusement, leaving them all to it.
“Daddy! Daddy I have the greatest idea for an adventure!”
Ike is not startled out of his weeding by the approaching of his beans. Misania is excited and Lucien is nervous. Grass is green. “Yeah?”
“We can help Luci be brave by talking to… a stranger!!!!” She is very proud of this. “There are a bunch of kitties in the kitchen and we don’t know their names yet!”
Ike, as usual, goes along with it by instinct, but frankly she’s got a great idea. “That’s a great idea. I know just the one, too.” Lucien’s worried look intensifies. “You’ll see. Trust me, Squeaker.” He stands up, wipes the dirt on his pants, and scoops them both up.
The Gallians are all still in the kitchen and mess hall, although Priam is gone. Skrimir is still transformed and Kyza is poking him with a stick in the kitchen, and the cats are in the mess hall tinkering with the trebuchet. Mordecai is also in the mess hall and is covered in chickens.
“Hey,” he says softly, to clue Mordecai in that this will take a gentle approach - Mordecai may be among the most gentle people Ike has ever met, but he is still a tiger and a warrior, after all, and he doesn’t want to take any chances here. “I’d really like you to meet my son. Misania, go play, okay? I’ve got this.”
“But can I cross it off the Adventure List if you do it?” she asks as he sits with Lucien in his lap and puts her on her feet on the floor.
“Sure,” he says.
“Great! Good luck, Luci! Hi Uncle Kitty!!!! And hi, my name is Misania Alena Greil but some people used to call me Mia!” She runs off to go ‘help’ the cats.
“To clarify, he’s afraid of strangers, not laguz,” Ike explains. “Skrimir is one of his favorite people. But this is hard for him, and you’re one of the nicest people I know.”
Mordecai is serene, petting chickens. He nods and smiles at Lucien, but says nothing. Lucien is shaking in Ike’s arms, Ike letting him appraise him in peace. Gradually he relaxes, and Ike smiles. Lucien waves at Mordecai, who waves back.
“Can you tell him your name?” Ike encourages.
Lucien nods and leans over. Ike assists him getting closer to whisper into Mordecai’s ear. Mordecai smiles broadly. “Hello Lucien. I am Mordecai of Gallia. You are brave.” Lucien blushes heavily.
“Good job!” Ike praises. “Usually that takes way longer,” he explains to Mordecai.
Mordecai downright beams. It’s frankly adorable. “Would you like to pet my squirrel?” Lucien’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and Mordecai holds out a huge hand with a sleeping baby squirrel curled up in it. “I am…”. He frowns and growls something in the direction of the other cats.
“Nursing,” Lucien supplies, very quietly but technically out loud, and Ike could cry in pride. It’s Mordecai’s turn to look surprised. “Uncle Kitty is working on teaching us kitty speak.”
“Smart cub,” Mordecai says with genuine enthusiasm, and Ike knows everything is going to be fine.
Lucien blushes more. “Can I help feed her?” Mordecai looks to Ike, who nods. Before he can agree aloud though, Lucien gasps. “Please wait!” He scurries off.
“Cute,” says Mordecai.
“Considering how much cute stuff you see, that means a lot,” Ike says with pride.
Lucien comes back with his extra-large Goldoan flying squirrel plush, offering it up to Mordecai. “Here!” Mordecai growls something softly, friendly as he takes it. “Thank you!” He looks at Ike. “He said I have good caring instincts!”
“You do,” Ike agrees, melting. Then, smiling, Mordecai stands, the chickens scattering with indignation, and Lucien follows him out.
Ike isn’t crying, what are you talking about?
Much later, Ike goes to check on Soren, who is, true to form, in his office. “So Luci made a new friend and got to bottle-feed a baby squirrel, Misania made a whole bunch of new friends and got to take goals off the Adventure List, Priam gave up trying to push Skrimir out, and now all three are with the chickens,” he says once Soren looks up at him.
Soren smiles. “I have a feeling I know who Lucien befriended. It’s odd to think that a tiger of all things has so many forest friends. Do you think he eats any?”
“Eh… Seriously? I hope not. That’s barely a little snack for him.”
Soren smirks, eyes unfocused as he thinks about it. “I’ve decided that he does. The cute little creatures hold council and select the most annoying one, sacrificing that one to Mordecai to appease him as if he were their forest god. I bet it’s usually a chipmunk. Everyone wins.”
Ike snickers, picturing it - the squirrels and other forest creatures holding a vote and handing over an asshole chipmunk to the serene, calm Mordecai who pops the chipmunk into his mouth like popcorn chicken. “You’re ridiculous. And clearly in a good mood.”
“Actually, yes. And I take it Lethe brought friends?”
“Oh, yeah, I forgot to actually tell you that. They’re all here in the kitchen trying to get Skrimir out, but he’s not budging. They tried to get him into the trebuchet, but it broke.”
“Oh, I know how to get him to leave,” Soren says confidently.
“They already ruled out fires and explosions,” Ike warns. “And I ruled out you giving him a kiss.”
“Ew, no. And unnecessary.” He gets up and leaves his office, walking to their suite. Curious, Ike follows him. He goes into their bedroom and pulls out a box from under the bed, and immediately Ike’s ears heat up at the rather scandalous items in it. Soren picks out a familiar cone with barbs on it that is unnaturally large.
“No…” Ike is horrified. “You got the Skrimir dildo?!” His horror turns to laughter when he sees Soren drew big eyes on it, making it look kind of like an earless elephant. “Sweet baby Yune, Soren! What the hell?!”
“I saved it for just this kind of situation,” Soren says smugly, taking it and walking back out. Ike follows, not sure what else to do because this is wrong and hilarious and awful. They go into the mess hall, where Skrimir is still sprawled on his back in the kitchen and the other felines are working on building a cart with wheels. Now an angry Oscar, Titania and Shinon are also helping with the attempted lion extraction. “Hey Skrimir!” They all look up as Soren tosses the dildo at him. It hits him on the nose, bouncing off. “Go fuck yourself.”
Skrimir stares at the model of his own transformed penis with its enormous cute eyes staring at him before he abruptly shifts back to being beorc-shaped, laughing uproariously, pun intended. He’s so amused he can’t even talk as he inspects the dildo and laughs harder. He doesn’t even protest as his entourage starts to hogtie him. “You are the best, little one,” he gushes amongst the laughter. “Have all my dessert for eternity! And half my kingdom!”
“Absolutely not. Besides, if I accepted, I would have claims to Daein, Goldoa and Gallia, so you might want to rethink that,” says Soren, smirking.
Do not kill Skrimir! Don’t kill him, don’t kill him, don’t kill him, Ike chants to himself. Just because I could get away with it and it would make everyone’s lives happier doesn’t mean I should kill him! Just because he asked my husband to marry him doesn’t mean I should shove a sword through his face! By the time Ike has calmed himself, he hears the tail-end of literally everyone protesting the thought of Soren ruling most of the continent.
“Cough himbo cough," says Shinon.
Titania pinches the bridge of her nose. "And what does THAT mean?"
Shinon is very pleased to share his worldly wisdom. "There's a few qualifications: a man, who is a beefcake, generally nice, and a moron. That's a himbo. Himbo," he points to Skrimir, “and himbo.” He of course points to Ike. "That they're also both simps for the same guy is a coincidence."
"So I am a simp and a himbo now?" Ike has to ask. "I mean, you're really over here making up insults for me? It's kind of flattering, I'm not gonna lie.”
“Flattering. Sure.”
“Anyway, I hope you can capitalize on his weak moment and get him out of here,” Soren tells Ranulf.
“The fact that that dildo exists and is actually pretty accurate means I want to get out of here as soon as possible,” Ranulf agrees. Working together, the other felines get Skrimir onto their makeshift wagon and push him out. Skrimir is still laughing and holding his new dildo. Ike is too disturbed to be relieved that they’re gone.
“Ya know, I’m really disappointed with Uncle Skrimir,” Priam is saying as Soren tucks his eldest spawnling into bed. “He never took me for a lion ride, and you were supposed to like, insult Uncle Nasir for him too right? You didn’t do that. Uncle Nasir is boring and deserves it. So why did Uncle Skrimir leave?”
“He technically had a job to do,” Soren explains, “and I made him laugh in a different way, so I got all his cheesecake.” He squirreled it away into a corner of the cold closet and created a rune that will blast anyone who tries to touch it across the room. He knows these people. “Sorry you missed out on the lion ride, but it’s easier for all of us if he’s not here.”
“He and Dad and me eat everything,” he agrees, “and so his portion of everything was cutting into my portion of everything.”
“For all that you insist you are a dragon, I think you might actually be a pig,” he teases. Priam giggles and makes oinking sounds. “Good night, Spawnling.”
“Oink oink, Papa!” He burrows into his blankets. Smiling, Soren leaves his bedroom.
… and is immediately dragged into his own.
His instincts are to freeze, which works out because it’s Ike who rather forcefully manhandles him up against the wall, directly behind him but crouching enough he can whisper in his ear. “You flirted with Skrimir.”
He raises an eyebrow as Ike starts to disrobe him. “When did I do that? When I chucked a dildo at his face or when I told him there was no way I was going home with him?”
“You were nice to him,” Ike counters, and Soren can feel the cool air on his skin as his clothes fall away. “You teased him. He asked you to marry him.”
“And I said no.” Soren is deeply unsure what is going on here. Is Ike genuinely upset or is he himself teasing? He knows that other people showing interest in him is one of Ike’s biggest triggers, but he’s never doubted Soren’s fidelity before…
Ike pauses, a big hand coming to cover Soren’s heart. “Shit, sorry, too much?” He backs up.
Soren turns to look him up and down. He still can’t read him. “Are you genuinely mad at me?”
Ike’s head tilts in confusion. “No? Why would I be trying to seduce you if I was mad at you? I’m just playing a bit, channeling my annoyance with Skrimir into sex. You like it, right?”
“Ohhh.” He sighs in relief, feeling his heart calm a little. “Sorry.” They both stand there a little awkwardly. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine, sorry, I came on too strong,” Ike apologizes, “Um, table that and come here.” He scoops Soren up and carries him to bed.
“Um, I could… we could start over?” Because a passionate possessive Ike is always a treat. “I just wasn’t sure. What were you hoping for? To punish me for flirting, or to reestablish that I wasn’t?”
Ike lays him down in bed, kneeling over him. “Hadn’t thought that far ahead. I just really want to have sex with you and want you in the mood too.”
He smiles up at him as Ike continues disrobing them both. “You had the right idea. Maybe just picture me giving Skrimir a kiss to make him leave.”
Ike’s eyes darken. “To quote you, absolutely not.” Then he leans in and takes Soren in a surprisingly rough, passionate kiss, completely dominating him, and Soren relaxes with submission to accept it. The way they respond to any sort of romantic rivalry is very different, with Ike increasingly possessive and very sexual, and Soren just feeling a deep sense of wrongness and almost despair that makes him feel the opposite of sexual. Thankfully neither has to truly worry about it.
Soren wants to give in, let Ike control his body and use him for validation and satisfaction, but he still has to gently push on his shoulder to try to get him to pause. At this point they are both naked, somehow, and Ike just goes to his neck instead. “I need to prep myself.”
Ike pauses, groans in dismay, and sighs. “Can I do it?”
“To quote myself, absolutely not. I’ll make it quick.” He shimmies out from underneath him, Ike looking extremely dissatisfied, so he quickly moves to the bathroom and cleans himself up before coming back out.
Ike makes it clear he was not happy having to wait by picking him up and tossing him back in bed, on his front, before crawling on top of him, his legs on the outside of Soren’s to hold them together. He starts kissing and nipping at the back of Soren’s neck as he himself casts the silencing spell. “Ready for me?”
“Ye-“. He’s cut off when two things happen at once - first, Ike rather abruptly sliding inside him, deeper in this position than most others, the kind of deep that fills him up and makes him whole but also makes it really hard to adjust; and second, Ike puts his arm around Soren’s neck, slightly tightening to put him in a headlock.
Instinctively Soren reaches to grab at Ike’s arm, digging nails in as Ike kneels on either side of Soren’s pressed-together legs, deeply grinding into him. His impulsive need to protect himself gradually fades as the pleasure steps up and his body recognizes that this might be the most gentle way to restrain someone because he can breathe just fine. He has to grit his teeth with the force of the grind, but he can handle this.
“Okay?” Ike asks him in his ear, moving his hips perfectly and making Soren's legs shake from the pressure.
“Yes,” he chokes out.
“Good, you look fucking gorgeous right now. Look.”
He opens his eyes and realizes that their fucking mirror is right there and holy shit this is really hot, he wasn’t kidding. Soren is completely covered by Ike, only his head and hands are visible, the muscles in Ike’s arms are huge, is it wrong to think your husband putting you in a headlock is incredibly sexy? He can’t even care that he himself looks pleasure-pained.
“Skrimir could never fuck you as good as I do,” Ike murmurs. Soren whimpers, he can’t help it, he’s so weak to dirty talk. “We were made for each other. You gonna-”
He was probably going to ask if Soren was about to come, but he’s too late, he’s coming hard, not that he can do anything but take it. And for all Ike’s dominating bravado, he’s coming too, just as helpless and addicted as Soren is to this.
He finds it hard to get his breath under control with the arm around his neck, but thankfully Ike soon removes it. He’s so tired he can’t even move. Good thing he doesn’t have to worry about anything and he is completely beyond any shame as he falls asleep.
Ike: 👍🏻👍🏻
Soren: 👍🏻👍🏻