[If Liem has any inkling about the kinds of things Simon has been putting Matt through, he masks it extremely well. He watches patiently as Matt approaches and sits at the desk. His manner is pleasantly businesslike.]
Now, while you’re in my care, we will be using our time constructively.
[He opens one of the desk drawers and withdraws a rather fancy pen—a thoughtful birthday gift from Simon, who doesn’t have to know about this use for it, but would probably approve if he did. Now standing straight-backed next to the desk, he looks down at Matt.]
Regardless of one’s vocation, discipline is vital to nurture. It allows one to exercise restraint, and to persevere in the face of adversity. It is one of the virtues that separates civilized beings from creatures of instinct—from beasts.
[Sliding the top sheet of paper closer, he writes a line on it in flowing, perfectly even script, then turns the page so Matt can easily read it: I will not allow myself to be ruled by my desires. Crisply, he places the pen atop the untouched stack of paper.]
Matt's feeling a lot of feelings right now. The first, and most immediate, is that Liem sounds really good saying all this, like some kind of sexy bowtie-wearing professor. The second is a hot flush over the line on the page. But the third ...
Well, Matt picks up the pen. But he can't help hedging: ]
It seems like a difference, more than a virtue versus deficit. Anything in excess is a problem--even discipline.
[ But Matt doesn't want to make an actual sticking point of this when it's all for fun. And when he personally feels as though he's suffering from the opposite of discipline. He starts to write: I will not ... ]
[Liem raises an eyebrow at the commentary Matt adds before bending to his task. Mildly, he says,]
That’s an intriguing point you raise—though I must note that in order for there to be a difference, you would first need to demonstrate that you have discipline. You certainly aren’t in danger of suffering from an excess of it.
[Turning for a moment to regard the wall of shelves, he reaches out and hefts a large, spherical paperweight. He walks around the back of Matt’s chair to stand on his non-dominant side.]
You should know that every time you talk back to me, I’m going to take it as a sign that your current task is too comfortable for you.
[ Matt makes a sort of hmph! at Liem saying--or rather, heavily implying, then saying--that he doesn't have any discipline. He does so! He's just under a gem curse! (That this entire operation was Matt's idea does not escape him. It's just occupying a very small back corner of his mind at present.)
Part of him can't help but wonder what else Liem will throw at him if he raises another counterpoint. How many paperweights does he own?
Matt continues allow myself to be ruled by. His handwriting isn't as perfect as Liem's--he's accustomed to sketching magical diagrams, but sigils are more of an art than a science. Still, he's making an effort to be neat. His left hand, meanwhile, lifts off the desk, palm turned up.
[As soon as Matt has outstretched his hand to Liem’s satisfaction, he deposits the paperweight carefully into it. As paperweights go it’s quite heavy, but it should still be simple to hold—for the first minute or two, that is.]
Don’t move your arm, and don’t let it touch the desk.
[Stepping back, Liem regards Matt’s progress from over his shoulder. He inspects the completed line with a small tsk.]
A valiant first effort, Matt—but I know you can do better. Presentation is important. Think of this as an opportunity to impress me.
[Doesn’t he want to impress him? Or at least be obedient enough to re-earn the free use of his other hand?]
[ Matt says hmm at Liem's instruction, softer this time. He has his reservations about the specific verbiage here, and the philosophies that may underly it, but opportunity to impress me strikes a pleasing note in him. Even with the paperweight in his palm, Matt visibly perks up.
Again it is.
The paperweight is heavier than he expected, but it has a cool, reassuring heft in his hand. For the moment, it's simple enough to hold his arm in place as he writes. At the end of the sentence, Matt flicks a glance up to Liem--partly for his assessment of Matt's penmanship, but partly ...
Well, the lack of discipline thing has to be just for sexy games, right? Liem said he wasn't looking to humiliate him. Matt figures whatever he can read in Liem's face will help him figure out how to proceed. ]
[When Matt glances up at him, Liem is watching him rather than the paper. Right now he’s mostly trying to gauge his reactions, to feel out what Matt responds best to, and to guess the general shape of his limits. “Keep me in line” is such a broad request, and the specifics of what might make it enjoyable are so subjective. But he does know his own preferences, and he’s pleased when Matt perks up a little to tackle his next instruction. He looks so inexcusably kissable.
When Liem looks back at the page, a smile steals gently over his features.]
Very good, Matt. I am impressed, and not just by your penmanship—you take instruction very well.
[That’s really the point of the exercise: to give him the opportunity to follow instructions, and to give Liem the chance to reward him with something nice. Speaking of—]
Why don’t you give me another three lines just like that, for an even five? If you do, I’ll be able to reward you for your hard work.
On the one hand. Matt does love a stern, cool, bossy Liem.
But even more than that, Matt loves seeing a stern, cool, bossy Liem soften just a little bit. Just enough for him to catch it in the corners of his smile. And when he starts in with things like good and reward and the particularly intoxicating you take instruction very well ...
Well, he doesn't melt exactly. (He couldn't without dropping the paperweight.) But his smile flickers a bit wider, and the set of his shoulders relaxes.
Matt starts on a third iteration of the sentence, lashes drooping as he focuses. By the beginning of the fourth, his hand has started to tremor slightly, borne down by the weight in his palm. Still, no reason for standards to flag: His fifth line is, if anything, the most painstakingly scripted of all.
Though by then, he's really starting to feel it in his forearm. His gaze flicks back to Liem's face. ]
[As neat and carefully-scripted as each subsequent line is, it’s Matt’s immediate focus and earnest attention to his task that pleases Liem the most. It wasn’t flattery when he said that Matt takes instruction well; when he’s being compliant, when he wants to do as he’s asked, it shows just as starkly as the words he’s inking onto the page. Anticipation soaks through Liem with the slow, dawning thrill of an ocean tide discovering it has the ability to sway the moon in its orbit.
But he watches Matt’s progress patiently, noting the slight tremble in his arm, the painstaking deliberation with which he finishes the fifth line. He’s been very diligent with his task, and Liem nods slightly, satisfied, in answer to his question.]
You certainly may.
[He leans his hip against the edge of the desk, giving Matt a moment to place down the weight before his arm turns to cooked spaghetti. Then, bending down slightly, he takes Matt’s jaw in his fingertips and gently tilts his face up toward his. His voice is a low murmur.]
[ Ah. Now Matt can melt. He sighs as Liem takes his jaw, the touch so light it feels like half his imagination. ]
I'm good. [ His gaze drops to Liem's hip where it rests, then slides up the lines of his body, column of his spine to the dark pools of his eyes. Matt smiles. ] I like when you're pleased with me. It feels very ...
I feel safe.
[ There's a slight uptick to this last remark, as if Matt's wavering between a period and question mark. Before a few minutes ago, he wouldn't have thought to say as much. He wouldn't have thought he needed it. Now, though, the desire is clarifying itself, like a flashlight that illuminates more of your path as you walk it. ]
[Whatever he might say in praise of discipline or restraint, there’s no way Liem could ever judge Matt for seeking intimacy because of his gem. His emerald isn’t acting up even a little right now, and he’s still only a hair away from throwing out his plans for the rest of the evening and just delivering Matt’s preposterous quantity of birthday kisses two weeks early. It’s distractingly difficult to think about withholding anything from him with the skin of his jaw warm beneath Liem’s fingertips, and their faces mere inches apart. It would be so easy to close the distance between them, to trace the planes and angles of Matt’s face with his lips so he can be sure he remembers them all, to spirit him out of this study and think about nothing but inscribing his devotion over his body. It would be shamefully easy, in fact. The only thing keeping him from changing his mind here and now is that this current iteration of their evening was Matt’s idea.
So although the pad of his thumb glides consideringly along Matt’s lower lip, he doesn’t lean in and kiss him. Yet. And although his expression softens, he doesn’t say what he thinks—that pleased with Matt feels like his natural state, that he falls into it as easily as breathing. Yet.]
That’s good.
[Now he does dip closer, just enough to brush his lips against Matt’s temple. His breath plays softly over his ear when he speaks again.]
I could hardly fail to be pleased with you, Matt—not when you’ve made such a diligent effort for me. And you do have plenty of practice with diligence, don’t you?
[Because wasn’t his diligence one of the first things Liem noted about him after they first met? And didn’t they agree that it was an eminently attractive quality?]
[ Matt inhales, slight but sharp, as Liem's thumb traces his lip. He doesn't otherwise move, not even when Liem leans in to place a cool kiss on his temple--when he speaks so softly into his ear.
Matt's smile brightens at the mention of diligence. He remembers that moment, of course, and almost feels guilty--obviously Liem doesn't really think he literally can't control himself, or whatever Matt's insecurities were piping up to say. Was it shitty of him to even think it? But after a moment (steady breath, soft and draping shoulders, Liem's nearness), Matt figures it's just a feeling. Information. The information is he's a mess right now, but he doesn't need to judge himself. Just let what is, be. ]
I do have that. Yeah. [ Breathed. ] It's hard to know how to direct it, sometimes, when I feel like this. That's why I need you.
[Liem brushes another kiss against Matt’s cheekbone, lips curving in a smile in response to the breathed reply. He takes quiet relish in the opportunity to provide something that Matt feels like he needs—to take the responsibility from him for a little while, to give him a break from himself. In a way, it’s grounding for Liem as well; he’s always done best when he has a clear goal by which to orient himself.]
And I’m glad to be of service. I intend to take good care of you.
[His thumb slides against Matt’s cheek as he dips a little lower, finally claiming his lips with a soft kiss. When he pulls away, it’s only far enough so that he can see his face.]
I’d like to give you a little more of a challenge, Matt—an excuse to exercise your focus, and to impress me further.
[This is, he thinks, a chance for Matt to flex his muscles doing something he’ll be good at. This is Liem providing direction for his diligence, and setting him up for success.]
If I’m using a toy on you, will you still be able to follow my instructions and do a good job?
[ Embarrassingly, or at least prematurely, when Liem's lips touch his Matt makes a stuck little sound. He already sounds so desperate. Is that the sapphire, or is it him? Given how he usually feels around Liem, Matt suspects it's a moment of felicitous convergence.
He tries to push the thoughts of the gem to one side, insofar as he can. He focuses on Liem--his face, his nearness, the questions and instructions he may offer. At the toy question, a brilliant smile overtakes his face. He looks not unlike a debutante who's finally been asked to dance, which is great because that's how he feels. ]
Yes, [ he murmurs. A slight pause, and he admits, ] Depends on the toy. But yes.
[Gods—he’s barely touched Matt, and already he sounds so eager. Lust sparks in Liem’s belly, demanding and overwarm, fed by that little wanting noise. The urge to coax out more just like that sinks its claws into him, but he’s wary of feeding that spark too well, of letting it grow too hot. He can’t let go of himself when he’s the one who’s meant to be in control.
For now, he focuses on Matt’s answers, on considering how best to explore his limits without overwhelming them. That smile is pleasing, though—it’s promising. Liem reflects it softly back, small and secretive, as he straightens up again.]
That’s good. Let’s find out, then.
[He releases Matt’s jaw, pushes gently away from the desk.]
I’d like to keep the challenge manageable for you, so we’ll start slow. Strip for me, please.
[He slides open another drawer, and this time he takes out some items that definitely don’t belong in the desk of anyone expecting to do actual work: first a bottle of lube, then a butt plug. Last to emerge is a little remote that somehow manages to be both innocuous and extremely conspicuous.]
[ By the time strip for me is out of Liem's mouth, Matt's hand is already at the hem of his sweater. He rises, pulling sweater and undershirt over his head to bare his chest, and drapes both over the back of his chair. He toes off his socks, leaving them on the floor, and sends the soft lounge pants and his underwear to join them.
His gaze is drawn to the path of Liem's hands, then the opening of the drawer. Matt's eyebrows arch as he pulls out lube, plug, and remote. His surprised exhalation is too faint to be a laugh, but it's unmistakably amused. ]
Mmhmm. [ A murmur of assent for the direction, unnecessary but pleasing to utter. Matt bends down, setting his elbows on the desk, and arranges his legs a little wider than his shoulders. After a moment's consideration, he shifts to spread them wider still. ] Like this?
[ They really have barely gotten started. But thanks to Liem's soft kiss and little touches--thanks to the toy and remote--and with the submissive thrill of the position Liem's asked him to take--Matt's cock has already started to stiffen. It's almost embarrassing to respond so emphatically to so little, but at the same time, there's a hedonistic pleasure in it. ]
[Liem barely even has to wait a moment before Matt is stripped and taking his position at the desk—a sight that he enjoys more than he’d anticipated, he now finds. Obedience just looks so good on him, and the enthusiasm he can read in the lines of his body certainly doesn’t hurt. Thrill flutters inside Liem like a tiny heartbeat, and he has to take a moment, as he regards Matt, to dismiss the traitorous bubble of guilt that emerges to smother it. He takes a breath, loosening the knot of apprehension in his chest. He gives himself permission to enjoy what Matt is offering him so willingly.]
Just like that.
[With brisk efficiency, he gathers Matt’s discarded clothes and deposits them on the floor next to the cushioned chair. Fortunately Liem’s floor is pristine, so they don’t pick up so much as a stray hair. When he looks back at Matt, a hint of amusement curves the corners of his mouth.]
You look so good bent over my desk. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought you in here; it’s going to be hard to get any work done if I’m thinking about this whenever I use my study.
[As he muses aloud he plucks his rings off one by one, all but the garnet on his right pinkie, and places them deliberately on one of his shelves. Then, retrieving the little bottle from the desk, he takes a moment and then slides a generously-lubed fingertip over the pucker of Matt’s ass.]
Matt—I recall you telling me that you like to use prayers and poems as a focus during spellcasting.
[Patiently, he circles his slick finger around Matt’s entrance—and then, just as patiently, he begins to slide it in.]
[ The presence of a plug is a good hint about where things might be going. As soon as Liem voices his approval of Matt's position, Matt draws in a deep, steady breath, letting the air and light flow through his limbs. He'll want to be relaxed for what's about to happen.
And it's important to focus, because left to his own devices, Matt would be hopelessly distracted by Liem. Even with all his best intentions, he can't help melting for him. Liem says you look so good, and Matt exhales on a warm sigh. Liem sets his rings down, and each click draws a shiver. The pad of Liem's finger slides slickly against Matt's entrance, and his hips hitch. He sighs again. Breathes, coaxing his muscles to go slack. ]
Oh. [ And a moment later, as Liem begins to penetrate him: ] Ohh.
[ As ever, being asked to think of any words means that all of them flock from his head. Matt scrambles to come up with even one of the reams of poems and prayers he uses in his spells, and seizes on the one that's often on his mind in this place, the stanza that translates to when it dances and flings its lively, mocking sound, this radiant world of metal and of gems transports me with delight. ]
Quand il jette en dansant son bruit vif et moqueur, [ he begins, speaking gently on the exhale. He pauses to steady himself, to let more weight sink onto his forearms so he can relax into Liem's slick touch. ] Ce monde rayonnant de métal et de pierre ...
Me ravit en extase, et j'aime à la fureur les choses où le son se mêle à la lumière.
[Liem’s lips curve, his eyes resting steadily on Matt as he begins to recite. He recalls this bit of poetry from the weeks before Brumfast, in the collection of poems he’d considered when he was putting together Konoha’s gift. He read quite a lot of poetry during that period in particular, and this one he certainly revisited more than once. But it does take him a moment to place it; the words have a different kind of life to them spoken aloud, one he couldn’t properly replicate in his native tongue. They sound fascinatingly different from Matt’s usual speech—softer, almost musical.
He’s doing beautifully well so far, with both his instructions and with relaxing for Liem as he penetrates him deeper. He murmurs in soft approval as he feels him yield, his finger curling to stroke slickly against Matt’s inner wall as he continues to coax some of the tightness from him.]
That’s lovely. Keep going for me, Matt; I’ll tell you when you can stop.
[The slide of his finger as he works is gentle, but insistent. When Liem judges that he’s relaxed enough, the pad of a second finger presses against Matt’s entrance alongside the first. Deliberately he eases it inside, slowly stroking out and then fucking back into him.]
[ That's for the curl of Liem's finger, the irresistible slide of his touch. Matt's head falls forward, his hips hitching back. His breaths come shallowly for a moment, but spurred by Liem's gentle instructions, he evens himself out. He relaxes, sinking back down onto his forearms, and breathes deeply again. ]
Aimer, [ he murmurs. ] Et du haut du divan elle souriait ... d'aise a mon amour profond et doux comme la mer. [ Just when he's slipped back into the rhythm of the words, Liem slides a second finger into him. Matt's startled into another moan, the weight of it coloring the next line he utters: ] Qui vers elle montait. Comme vers sa falaise ...
[ His lashes flutter. They feel heavy. ]
Liem. [ It's not an appeal for leniency. Matt doesn't want him to stop. He just can't resist crowning the poem with the pearl of his name. ] Les yeux fixés sur moi, comme un tigre dompté. D'un air vague et rêveur ...
[As he touches Matt, as his eyes linger heavily over his form with each breath and movement, Liem feels his mouth go dry and his clothes grow hot. He loves the way Matt recites poetry, the rhythm of it, the way he seems to devote his entire body to the endeavour—but even more than that, he loves watching his poise begin to fray beneath the assiduous work of his fingers. He loves the sound of his name on Matt’s lips. It's far too early for him to come undone entirely, but Liem wants to tease him gently closer to the edge. And sooner or later, he wants to see him clutch at it to avoid being pushed over.
For now, he’s held captive by the rise and fall of Matt’s voice, by the feel of him relaxing by degrees as he uses his fingers to slowly fuck him open. Liem finds himself quietly matching him breath for breath as he continues, as though their bodies were connected by invisible strings. But captive or not, he reins himself in after a few more strokes, withdrawing with a small, satisfied sigh.]
Matt… You’re doing so well.
[His voice is a gentle murmur as he once again retrieves the bottle from the desk, and this time uses it to coat the toy liberally.]
You’re being so good for me…
[Desire colours his praise, thrums through the bond between them as the slick tip of the plug kisses Matt’s entrance. Then, patiently, Liem begins to slide it inside, one cool hand steady against Matt’s skin as he eases it in bit by bit.]
[ When Liem pulls out of him, Matt whimpers softly. He's positive he knows what's coming next, and he's all for it, but his body wants what it wants--and what it wants is to have Liem in him, not letting him go for a moment. Matt murmurs, sounding almost apologetic: ]
I love you.
[ It just sort of slips out. Luckily, they've previously established that this kind of behavior is okay.
And luckily, Liem doesn't leave Matt untouched for long; he places a cool hand on Matt's skin, balm to his feverishness, and starts to push the plug into him. Matt groans. His erection juts towards the desk, rosy and flushed. And, because he wants to show his gratitude for Liem's guidance, for a safe place to point his sloshing desire--for telling him just where and how to stand, permitting him to strip himself and spread himself-- ]
D'un air vague et rêveur ... elle essayait des poses. Et la candeur unie à la lubricité, [ as his muscles stretch, the pressure of the plug yielding to a feeling of pleasant fullness, ] donnait un charme, neuf à ses ...
[Surprised recognition causes Liem’s eyes to flick a little wider as those three words slip from Matt’s lips. Somehow he hadn’t anticipated that they would make another appearance after their otherworldly interlude in the midst of that snowstorm; hearing them now is very like running unexpectedly into a loved one who lives way out in the countryside. The words stamp against his heart like clumsy kisses, leaving him pleasantly discomposed, with his lips forming quietly around Matt’s name.
But his hands remain steady in their tasks, and slowly he eases the plug inside until he’s filled Matt with the toy and the base is firmly seated against him. Liem shifts next to him, tracing his fingertips up the long lines of his back.]
Pause a moment; just breathe.
[His hand slows to rest flat against Matt’s upper back, just below his shoulder blades. Although the toy is fully inserted, Liem clearly expects him to remain in this position for the time being. His gaze roams Matt's body, from his spine and his limbs to the jut of his cock.]
Look at you… So eager for me—but so focused. I almost wish I could reward you right now. Hmm.
[Almost. Liem’s fingers slide further up to glide around the curve of Matt’s neck, tracing gently over the pulse thrumming in his throat, the hard line of his jaw.]
We’ll both just have to be patient. First, Matt, I want you to finish what you started. Can you do that for me?
[His other hand finds the remote waiting on the desk—and with a nudge, sends the plug rumbling gently to life.]
[ Matt's eyes close. Obediently, he stops his recitation. He focuses instead on his breath, the way it rushes through his body and floods his limbs with light and heat. It's energy he can shape, and for Liem, he will: He inhales on a steady count, holds the breath for another, and expels it slowly. He does the same again, and again, and once more; his body feels like it's melting around the plug, coaxing it deeper. He feels like he's melting onto the desk. As Liem's hands move up his back and neck, skating over his jaw, those parts of him feel like they're melting too. But his feet remain planted, and his cock remains hard between his legs.
He means to answer Liem in the affirmative. But before he can, the plug begins to vibrate, and Matt moans in surprise. ]
Ohh. Yes--yes. Yes I can, I can--et son bras et sa jambe. [ That comes out breathy. Matt does better on the next line. ] Et sa cuisse et ses reins, polis comme de l'huile, onduleux comme un cygne passaient devant mes yeux clairvoyants et sereins.
[ Finish what you started. The directive shines like a beacon, a lighthouse-flare in an ocean of sensuous need. Matt fumbles his way through the next two stanzas, always seeking to strike a balance between the words, his physical posture, and the pleasure the plug wrings from him with every buzz. He tries not to let himself become distracted by Liem's hands.
There's a dropped line or two over the next two stanzas, the occasional transposed word, but Matt's memorization of this poem has never been entirely perfect. If he were being graded on it, it'd be a solid B+. ]
Et la lampe s'étant résignée à mourir, [ he murmurs, strained, ] comme le foyer seul illuminait la chambre ...
[As Matt continues to forge on through his recital of the poem, finding his footing once more, warm approval fills Liem and spills, honey-like, through the caress of his hands. His fingers cup the delicate column of Matt’s throat, brush like moths’ wings against the edge of his ear, card gently through the dark tousle of his hair. They skim the nape of his neck and stroke along the slim line of his shoulder. There is a longing in him to love Matt like this, off-balance and striving despite it. He is hungry for the chance to be patient, to be steady, to be the trellis upon which the climbing vine of Matt’s desire can spread and bloom riotously. If distraction makes him need to cling all the more tightly, then so much the better.
It doesn't matter that Matt’s reproduction of the poem isn’t perfect. Liem hasn’t memorized it down to the last word—he doesn’t know it line by line. But he does remember its ending, and when the final stanza is upon them, his hand stills on the back of Matt’s neck, his thumb pausing its soft caress along his spine. Despite the occasional dropped line or transposed word, Liem is impressed with his composure, murmuring his pleasure at his progress—and for the last few lines, he teases the vibration up another notch on the remote.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Now, while you’re in my care, we will be using our time constructively.
[He opens one of the desk drawers and withdraws a rather fancy pen—a thoughtful birthday gift from Simon, who doesn’t have to know about this use for it, but would probably approve if he did. Now standing straight-backed next to the desk, he looks down at Matt.]
Regardless of one’s vocation, discipline is vital to nurture. It allows one to exercise restraint, and to persevere in the face of adversity. It is one of the virtues that separates civilized beings from creatures of instinct—from beasts.
[Sliding the top sheet of paper closer, he writes a line on it in flowing, perfectly even script, then turns the page so Matt can easily read it: I will not allow myself to be ruled by my desires. Crisply, he places the pen atop the untouched stack of paper.]
Copy it.
no subject
Matt's feeling a lot of feelings right now. The first, and most immediate, is that Liem sounds really good saying all this, like some kind of sexy bowtie-wearing professor. The second is a hot flush over the line on the page. But the third ...
Well, Matt picks up the pen. But he can't help hedging: ]
It seems like a difference, more than a virtue versus deficit. Anything in excess is a problem--even discipline.
[ But Matt doesn't want to make an actual sticking point of this when it's all for fun. And when he personally feels as though he's suffering from the opposite of discipline. He starts to write: I will not ... ]
no subject
That’s an intriguing point you raise—though I must note that in order for there to be a difference, you would first need to demonstrate that you have discipline. You certainly aren’t in danger of suffering from an excess of it.
[Turning for a moment to regard the wall of shelves, he reaches out and hefts a large, spherical paperweight. He walks around the back of Matt’s chair to stand on his non-dominant side.]
You should know that every time you talk back to me, I’m going to take it as a sign that your current task is too comfortable for you.
Hold out your arm. Palm up.
no subject
Part of him can't help but wonder what else Liem will throw at him if he raises another counterpoint. How many paperweights does he own?
Matt continues allow myself to be ruled by. His handwriting isn't as perfect as Liem's--he's accustomed to sketching magical diagrams, but sigils are more of an art than a science. Still, he's making an effort to be neat. His left hand, meanwhile, lifts off the desk, palm turned up.
My desires. ]
no subject
Don’t move your arm, and don’t let it touch the desk.
[Stepping back, Liem regards Matt’s progress from over his shoulder. He inspects the completed line with a small tsk.]
A valiant first effort, Matt—but I know you can do better. Presentation is important. Think of this as an opportunity to impress me.
[Doesn’t he want to impress him? Or at least be obedient enough to re-earn the free use of his other hand?]
Try again.
no subject
Again it is.
The paperweight is heavier than he expected, but it has a cool, reassuring heft in his hand. For the moment, it's simple enough to hold his arm in place as he writes. At the end of the sentence, Matt flicks a glance up to Liem--partly for his assessment of Matt's penmanship, but partly ...
Well, the lack of discipline thing has to be just for sexy games, right? Liem said he wasn't looking to humiliate him. Matt figures whatever he can read in Liem's face will help him figure out how to proceed. ]
no subject
When Liem looks back at the page, a smile steals gently over his features.]
Very good, Matt. I am impressed, and not just by your penmanship—you take instruction very well.
[That’s really the point of the exercise: to give him the opportunity to follow instructions, and to give Liem the chance to reward him with something nice. Speaking of—]
Why don’t you give me another three lines just like that, for an even five? If you do, I’ll be able to reward you for your hard work.
no subject
On the one hand. Matt does love a stern, cool, bossy Liem.
But even more than that, Matt loves seeing a stern, cool, bossy Liem soften just a little bit. Just enough for him to catch it in the corners of his smile. And when he starts in with things like good and reward and the particularly intoxicating you take instruction very well ...
Well, he doesn't melt exactly. (He couldn't without dropping the paperweight.) But his smile flickers a bit wider, and the set of his shoulders relaxes.
Matt starts on a third iteration of the sentence, lashes drooping as he focuses. By the beginning of the fourth, his hand has started to tremor slightly, borne down by the weight in his palm. Still, no reason for standards to flag: His fifth line is, if anything, the most painstakingly scripted of all.
Though by then, he's really starting to feel it in his forearm. His gaze flicks back to Liem's face. ]
May I put it down?
no subject
But he watches Matt’s progress patiently, noting the slight tremble in his arm, the painstaking deliberation with which he finishes the fifth line. He’s been very diligent with his task, and Liem nods slightly, satisfied, in answer to his question.]
You certainly may.
[He leans his hip against the edge of the desk, giving Matt a moment to place down the weight before his arm turns to cooked spaghetti. Then, bending down slightly, he takes Matt’s jaw in his fingertips and gently tilts his face up toward his. His voice is a low murmur.]
How are you faring?
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I'm good. [ His gaze drops to Liem's hip where it rests, then slides up the lines of his body, column of his spine to the dark pools of his eyes. Matt smiles. ] I like when you're pleased with me. It feels very ...
I feel safe.
[ There's a slight uptick to this last remark, as if Matt's wavering between a period and question mark. Before a few minutes ago, he wouldn't have thought to say as much. He wouldn't have thought he needed it. Now, though, the desire is clarifying itself, like a flashlight that illuminates more of your path as you walk it. ]
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So although the pad of his thumb glides consideringly along Matt’s lower lip, he doesn’t lean in and kiss him. Yet. And although his expression softens, he doesn’t say what he thinks—that pleased with Matt feels like his natural state, that he falls into it as easily as breathing. Yet.]
That’s good.
[Now he does dip closer, just enough to brush his lips against Matt’s temple. His breath plays softly over his ear when he speaks again.]
I could hardly fail to be pleased with you, Matt—not when you’ve made such a diligent effort for me. And you do have plenty of practice with diligence, don’t you?
[Because wasn’t his diligence one of the first things Liem noted about him after they first met? And didn’t they agree that it was an eminently attractive quality?]
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Matt's smile brightens at the mention of diligence. He remembers that moment, of course, and almost feels guilty--obviously Liem doesn't really think he literally can't control himself, or whatever Matt's insecurities were piping up to say. Was it shitty of him to even think it? But after a moment (steady breath, soft and draping shoulders, Liem's nearness), Matt figures it's just a feeling. Information. The information is he's a mess right now, but he doesn't need to judge himself. Just let what is, be. ]
I do have that. Yeah. [ Breathed. ] It's hard to know how to direct it, sometimes, when I feel like this. That's why I need you.
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And I’m glad to be of service. I intend to take good care of you.
[His thumb slides against Matt’s cheek as he dips a little lower, finally claiming his lips with a soft kiss. When he pulls away, it’s only far enough so that he can see his face.]
I’d like to give you a little more of a challenge, Matt—an excuse to exercise your focus, and to impress me further.
[This is, he thinks, a chance for Matt to flex his muscles doing something he’ll be good at. This is Liem providing direction for his diligence, and setting him up for success.]
If I’m using a toy on you, will you still be able to follow my instructions and do a good job?
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He tries to push the thoughts of the gem to one side, insofar as he can. He focuses on Liem--his face, his nearness, the questions and instructions he may offer. At the toy question, a brilliant smile overtakes his face. He looks not unlike a debutante who's finally been asked to dance, which is great because that's how he feels. ]
Yes, [ he murmurs. A slight pause, and he admits, ] Depends on the toy. But yes.
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For now, he focuses on Matt’s answers, on considering how best to explore his limits without overwhelming them. That smile is pleasing, though—it’s promising. Liem reflects it softly back, small and secretive, as he straightens up again.]
That’s good. Let’s find out, then.
[He releases Matt’s jaw, pushes gently away from the desk.]
I’d like to keep the challenge manageable for you, so we’ll start slow. Strip for me, please.
[He slides open another drawer, and this time he takes out some items that definitely don’t belong in the desk of anyone expecting to do actual work: first a bottle of lube, then a butt plug. Last to emerge is a little remote that somehow manages to be both innocuous and extremely conspicuous.]
Then bend over the desk—legs apart.
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His gaze is drawn to the path of Liem's hands, then the opening of the drawer. Matt's eyebrows arch as he pulls out lube, plug, and remote. His surprised exhalation is too faint to be a laugh, but it's unmistakably amused. ]
Mmhmm. [ A murmur of assent for the direction, unnecessary but pleasing to utter. Matt bends down, setting his elbows on the desk, and arranges his legs a little wider than his shoulders. After a moment's consideration, he shifts to spread them wider still. ] Like this?
[ They really have barely gotten started. But thanks to Liem's soft kiss and little touches--thanks to the toy and remote--and with the submissive thrill of the position Liem's asked him to take--Matt's cock has already started to stiffen. It's almost embarrassing to respond so emphatically to so little, but at the same time, there's a hedonistic pleasure in it. ]
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Just like that.
[With brisk efficiency, he gathers Matt’s discarded clothes and deposits them on the floor next to the cushioned chair. Fortunately Liem’s floor is pristine, so they don’t pick up so much as a stray hair. When he looks back at Matt, a hint of amusement curves the corners of his mouth.]
You look so good bent over my desk. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought you in here; it’s going to be hard to get any work done if I’m thinking about this whenever I use my study.
[As he muses aloud he plucks his rings off one by one, all but the garnet on his right pinkie, and places them deliberately on one of his shelves. Then, retrieving the little bottle from the desk, he takes a moment and then slides a generously-lubed fingertip over the pucker of Matt’s ass.]
Matt—I recall you telling me that you like to use prayers and poems as a focus during spellcasting.
[Patiently, he circles his slick finger around Matt’s entrance—and then, just as patiently, he begins to slide it in.]
Recite something for me.
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And it's important to focus, because left to his own devices, Matt would be hopelessly distracted by Liem. Even with all his best intentions, he can't help melting for him. Liem says you look so good, and Matt exhales on a warm sigh. Liem sets his rings down, and each click draws a shiver. The pad of Liem's finger slides slickly against Matt's entrance, and his hips hitch. He sighs again. Breathes, coaxing his muscles to go slack. ]
Oh. [ And a moment later, as Liem begins to penetrate him: ] Ohh.
[ As ever, being asked to think of any words means that all of them flock from his head. Matt scrambles to come up with even one of the reams of poems and prayers he uses in his spells, and seizes on the one that's often on his mind in this place, the stanza that translates to when it dances and flings its lively, mocking sound, this radiant world of metal and of gems transports me with delight. ]
Quand il jette en dansant son bruit vif et moqueur, [ he begins, speaking gently on the exhale. He pauses to steady himself, to let more weight sink onto his forearms so he can relax into Liem's slick touch. ] Ce monde rayonnant de métal et de pierre ...
Me ravit en extase, et j'aime à la fureur les choses où le son se mêle à la lumière.
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He’s doing beautifully well so far, with both his instructions and with relaxing for Liem as he penetrates him deeper. He murmurs in soft approval as he feels him yield, his finger curling to stroke slickly against Matt’s inner wall as he continues to coax some of the tightness from him.]
That’s lovely. Keep going for me, Matt; I’ll tell you when you can stop.
[The slide of his finger as he works is gentle, but insistent. When Liem judges that he’s relaxed enough, the pad of a second finger presses against Matt’s entrance alongside the first. Deliberately he eases it inside, slowly stroking out and then fucking back into him.]
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[ That's for the curl of Liem's finger, the irresistible slide of his touch. Matt's head falls forward, his hips hitching back. His breaths come shallowly for a moment, but spurred by Liem's gentle instructions, he evens himself out. He relaxes, sinking back down onto his forearms, and breathes deeply again. ]
Aimer, [ he murmurs. ] Et du haut du divan elle souriait ... d'aise a mon amour profond et doux comme la mer. [ Just when he's slipped back into the rhythm of the words, Liem slides a second finger into him. Matt's startled into another moan, the weight of it coloring the next line he utters: ] Qui vers elle montait. Comme vers sa falaise ...
[ His lashes flutter. They feel heavy. ]
Liem. [ It's not an appeal for leniency. Matt doesn't want him to stop. He just can't resist crowning the poem with the pearl of his name. ] Les yeux fixés sur moi, comme un tigre dompté. D'un air vague et rêveur ...
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For now, he’s held captive by the rise and fall of Matt’s voice, by the feel of him relaxing by degrees as he uses his fingers to slowly fuck him open. Liem finds himself quietly matching him breath for breath as he continues, as though their bodies were connected by invisible strings. But captive or not, he reins himself in after a few more strokes, withdrawing with a small, satisfied sigh.]
Matt… You’re doing so well.
[His voice is a gentle murmur as he once again retrieves the bottle from the desk, and this time uses it to coat the toy liberally.]
You’re being so good for me…
[Desire colours his praise, thrums through the bond between them as the slick tip of the plug kisses Matt’s entrance. Then, patiently, Liem begins to slide it inside, one cool hand steady against Matt’s skin as he eases it in bit by bit.]
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I love you.
[ It just sort of slips out. Luckily, they've previously established that this kind of behavior is okay.
And luckily, Liem doesn't leave Matt untouched for long; he places a cool hand on Matt's skin, balm to his feverishness, and starts to push the plug into him. Matt groans. His erection juts towards the desk, rosy and flushed. And, because he wants to show his gratitude for Liem's guidance, for a safe place to point his sloshing desire--for telling him just where and how to stand, permitting him to strip himself and spread himself-- ]
D'un air vague et rêveur ... elle essayait des poses. Et la candeur unie à la lubricité, [ as his muscles stretch, the pressure of the plug yielding to a feeling of pleasant fullness, ] donnait un charme, neuf à ses ...
Neuf à ses métamorphoses.
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But his hands remain steady in their tasks, and slowly he eases the plug inside until he’s filled Matt with the toy and the base is firmly seated against him. Liem shifts next to him, tracing his fingertips up the long lines of his back.]
Pause a moment; just breathe.
[His hand slows to rest flat against Matt’s upper back, just below his shoulder blades. Although the toy is fully inserted, Liem clearly expects him to remain in this position for the time being. His gaze roams Matt's body, from his spine and his limbs to the jut of his cock.]
Look at you… So eager for me—but so focused. I almost wish I could reward you right now. Hmm.
[Almost. Liem’s fingers slide further up to glide around the curve of Matt’s neck, tracing gently over the pulse thrumming in his throat, the hard line of his jaw.]
We’ll both just have to be patient. First, Matt, I want you to finish what you started. Can you do that for me?
[His other hand finds the remote waiting on the desk—and with a nudge, sends the plug rumbling gently to life.]
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He means to answer Liem in the affirmative. But before he can, the plug begins to vibrate, and Matt moans in surprise. ]
Ohh. Yes--yes. Yes I can, I can--et son bras et sa jambe. [ That comes out breathy. Matt does better on the next line. ] Et sa cuisse et ses reins, polis comme de l'huile, onduleux comme un cygne passaient devant mes yeux clairvoyants et sereins.
[ Finish what you started. The directive shines like a beacon, a lighthouse-flare in an ocean of sensuous need. Matt fumbles his way through the next two stanzas, always seeking to strike a balance between the words, his physical posture, and the pleasure the plug wrings from him with every buzz. He tries not to let himself become distracted by Liem's hands.
There's a dropped line or two over the next two stanzas, the occasional transposed word, but Matt's memorization of this poem has never been entirely perfect. If he were being graded on it, it'd be a solid B+. ]
Et la lampe s'étant résignée à mourir, [ he murmurs, strained, ] comme le foyer seul illuminait la chambre ...
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It doesn't matter that Matt’s reproduction of the poem isn’t perfect. Liem hasn’t memorized it down to the last word—he doesn’t know it line by line. But he does remember its ending, and when the final stanza is upon them, his hand stills on the back of Matt’s neck, his thumb pausing its soft caress along his spine. Despite the occasional dropped line or transposed word, Liem is impressed with his composure, murmuring his pleasure at his progress—and for the last few lines, he teases the vibration up another notch on the remote.]
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dex save = calculated 15
dungeon master says: get ready for more of that
he's a natural ........... 1
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