sterngaze | open post

[ As it turns out, Liem usurps any sense of self-control Cardan might have possessed. He feels feverish with need, helpless against the flood of it; his breathing is already frantic, and they have barely started. His entire world has narrowed only to Liem: Liem's soft mouth on his skin; Cardan's name on Liem's breath; the delicious rake of nails down Cardan's back, the spark of pain so good it makes him hiss and arch into it; the way Liem feels, the unrelenting cling and drag of his body around Cardan's cock, tearing gasps out of him every time Liem takes all of him.

He thought he could weather it. He always had before -- had always been careful, deliberate in caring for his partners' pleasure, even when his lovers meant nothing to him. But he'd wanted to fuck Liem since he'd pressed Cardan into a tree, with snow in his hair and his eyes alight with predatory instinct. It has been hours of wanting -- and before that, weeks of fleeting, desperate touches, hasty trysts when they could find an hour of time between meetings and papers.

He miscalculated. He'd waited too long, wanted too desperately, and now he's far too alight with need, too overwrought to finish what he had started. He can feel the pleasure building in his body, too easily stoked, too eager for release. ]

Liem--

[ His hands tremble with the effort of easing up their iron grip; desperation colours his voice, and he cannot bring himself to hide it even so. ]

Liem, I can't--

[ He bites his own lip, hard enough to taste blood. He doesn't want it to end, not like this, not yet. But how is he meant to stop the inevitable? The pleasure searing its way through him is as inescapable as a lighting strike; he can feel it rising in him with every movement of Liem's body against his, with every sound, touch, and breath full of his husband's scent. ]

[As he moves against Cardan, chasing the pleasure between them, the greedy want in Liem builds until he's half mad with it. Each fevered gasp that escapes Cardan's throat, each racing beat of his heart, each press of his body against him makes Liem feel wild, at the mercy of his own need — and for once, there is nothing and no one to bring him to heel. There is only the warmth of Cardan's skin, and the scent of him, drawn in with each helpless, frantic breath. There is only the desperate sound of his own name on Cardan's lips. He could not abandon his heedless pursuit of bliss while it hovers just within his grasp, even if he wanted to.

And there is nothing he has ever wanted less.

It does not matter if Cardan eases the demanding grip on his hips; Liem's grip on him remains covetously tight, and his hips still move against him with unfettered desire, as irresistible as spell-born compulsion. The unsteady breaths pulled from him with each stroke are still strained with need. And he still cannot drag his lips from their caress of Cardan's skin, even as his need overtakes him and he can think of nothing but meeting the hot, relentless torrent of his pleasure head-on.]

Don't, [Liem breathes against his neck, against the mess of crimson smears his mouth has made of it. Don't stop. Don't hold back. His lips are too busy trailing kisses down to his shoulder to form the words. He feels rabid with warmth and want; desperate to sink his teeth into something. There's a reason he shouldn't, and yet—

Ecstasy shudders through him, heedless, and he bites with a muffled whine as his climax overtakes him.]

[ Don't, Liem demands, and Cardan has no words to tell him that he can't do anything else. Nothing and no one could stop the pleasure taking hold of him, sharp-edged and so keen he's not certain he can bear it. Not even Liem, who is the sole cause of Cardan's intemperance--

The bite of teeth into his shoulder is shocking. With how reticent Liem has been to sup on him in the first place, with how careful he seems in not taking more than needed-- Cardan groans against the burst of pain, his eyes wide and astonished, taking in none of the ceiling's splendid moulding even as he arches back against the tub's edge, his hips bucking sharply up into the exquisite sheath of Liem's body. He wants it, of course he does, just as he always wants Liem's teeth and his predatory grace and his bloodlust, no matter how ill-advised it may be.

He's never been very wise about the things he desires, anyway.

There is nothing he can do against the spike of sensation. His wet hand slides into Liem's hair, pressing him close with desperate need; it's all Cardan can do to keep moving as his husband tightens around him. It's enough pleasure to make a man lose himself, and he does, he does, feeling himself unravel even as he cradles Liem urgently close.

Whatever desperate noise he makes is lost to the sound of his own blood thundering in his ears.

It takes him a long time to catch his breath. Longer still to even consider opening his eyes, which had fallen shut sometime between the bite and what was ostensibly an orgasm but felt rather like a highly personalized explosion. He doesn't want to move, nor does he feel like relinquishing his husband, whom he's still holding on to like Liem will disappear if he doesn't. He wishes to consider absolutely none of the things that continue to exist beyond the bathtub, beyond his husband's skin against his own, or the intriguing twin aches emanating from his throat and his shoulder.

He will, eventually, recover enough energy to pet Liem's hair, though so lazily that it is more of a suggestion than a proper caress. ]

[It's well that Liem has occupied his mouth as Cardan bucks against him, caught in the throes of that urgent, irresistible pleasure. He has tasted too much of him, become drunk on the lush vibrance of his veins, and the enchantment of it, of him, fills Liem with thoughts too foolish to speak aloud. He can only blame the seduction of the blood warming him from within for the helpless contentment that the feel of Cardan's hands on him brings, or the way the word mine bumps at the back of his teeth when his lips brush bloodied skin.

He wants to stay here like this forever, in this warm, dreamlike place where he can pretend that this is enough — that he is enough — and that it is not debts and promises that keep Cardan by his side, within the reach of his embrace. The fantasy is dangerously easy to entertain at times like this, with his blood singing and his senses full of his husband. But even under the weight of bliss that makes his eyelids feel leaden and his body feel as insubstantial as clouds, he cannot quite let himself believe his own fancies, much though he might wish to be deceived for at least a little while.

And he does not lift his face from its cozy press against Cardan's shoulder until he is confident he can open his mouth without saying something he'll regret.

Though first he must recover the wherewithal to move his neck.]

Cardan, [he murmurs from the vicinity of Cardan's collarbone. He probably has blood all over his face at this point; it's a good thing he's already in the bath.] Did I say that I'm grateful you dragged me outside to look at the snow?

[ For a moment, Cardan doesn't answer; he's too content, and also -- still buried inside Liem, which means that even the most minor movement makes him ride out a sensitized, pleasurable little shiver. It is astounding that Liem still feels so good, now; astounding also that Cardan could have had him so thoroughly and still feel the insistent pull of want curl in his belly.

It's never going to be enough, he's realizing. No matter how much of him is touching Liem, no matter what they've done, he will ever want more. ]

You did not.

[ He supposes he could make the effort to open his eyes. His hand slips down from its place in Liem's hair to draw along his cheek, smearing the red streak he finds there. That makes him grin because it's funny: never before has he left a bath dirtier than when he'd entered.

A brief touch to his own throat confirms that this, too, is rather bloody. He cannot bring himself to feel an ounce of concern over it; instead, his fingers sweep down Liem's warm flank to settle once more at his hip, this time far more gently. ]

Are you?

[Draped over Cardan as he currently is, contented by the wandering inspection of his fingers and the way they are still fit so perfectly and pleasingly together, Liem finds it hard to summon any reason to move from exactly this spot. He imagines that the temperature of the water will eventually become uncomfortable for his husband, but that concern is not pressing enough to roust him from his lazy occupation of Cardan's lap.

He meets the grin that Cardan directs down at him with a slow, pleased smile.]

Yes.

[Yes, he is grateful. Not for the chance to see the fresh snowfall, so much as for the rare opportunity to forget the circumstances surrounding their marriage, and spend time with his husband as if he were simply a man that he liked and wished to be close with. He has not had the luxury of being so carefree in far too long.

Cupping Cardan's jaw, Liem tips his head just enough to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Tomorrow, as he must, he'll return to his duties and his cares. For now, he refuses to spare them even a single thought. As he pulls back, his thumb, sliding gently over warm skin, brushes the soft curve of Cardan's lip. He says, almost wistfully,]

… It's been years since the last time anyone threw snow at me.

[ The blood on Liem’s face lends him an odd touch of savagery; in conjunction with that warm smile, it makes something in Cardan’s chest flutter. He sighs against the soft brush of lips on his face, almost relaxed enough to let his eyes slide shut again, except that he wants to watch Liem. After all — Cardan sees him so rarely like this, soft-edged and bare of most of his worries.

The thumb on his mouth reminds him it’s still sore from where he’d sunk his own teeth into the skin; he inhales, softly, when Liem’s touch passes over the cut.

He supposes he can’t imagine anyone he knows throwing snow at Liem. Not the servants, nor the vampire gentry— perhaps Iago, when he was little? Cardan knows almost nothing about Liem’s childhood. Certainly it doesn’t seem likely, with where his relationship with his father seems to stand.

Maybe it was the lover Liem had mentioned, that evening after the attack. The thought displeases him; in the water, his tail curls, the wet tuft of it drawing along Liem’s bare thigh.

But all he says is: ] You were surprisingly martial about it.

[ Right before he parts his lips wider so he can drag his tongue along the pad of Liem’s thumb. His half-lidded gaze on Liem is deliberate. ]

[Despite his ease and his contentment, Liem’s gaze grows more intent as it lingers on Cardan’s face. It is an easy face to become absorbed in, especially when Cardan is so exquisitely dishevelled and charmingly relaxed, and especially when his dark, lovely eyes are trained on Liem. And not even the afterglow of a good fuck can keep Liem from wanting more of his husband, particularly when the heady thrill of Cardan’s blood still thrums beneath his skin, throwing every sensation into sharp, seductive relief.

His gaze drifts distinctly down to watch the drag of Cardan’s tongue when it slides against his thumb.]

Was it surprising?

[The goal of a snow fight is to win, isn’t it? Liem can’t recall a snowball fight he’s ever been a part of that didn’t devolve into a melee of wrestling and shoving snow down unguarded collars. Sometimes, in his later teenage years, sex was also a follow-up; in his experience, one thing tended to lead to the other, though he can see why it would be slightly different for Cardan.

Liem shifts, straightening with a shivery little exhale so he can look down at his husband as he pushes his thumb between Cardan’s parted lips. Beneath his lowered lids, his irises are thin rings of blue against a field of black.]

Surely you would not have preferred if I’d simply brushed the snow from my hair and carried on.

[ Liem shifts in his lap, and Cardan shivers again, any potential response dying on his lips. A few minutes ago, he had thought his energy utterly spent, but Liem makes a compelling case for the alternative. He is, suddenly, keenly interested in the slide of his husband's body against his own; though he's just come, he feels a heavy pulse of heat pang through his cock. His hands urge Liem closer-- ]

Mm.

[ There is little room for a more eloquent answer when he's busy sucking Liem's thumb into his mouth. And anyway, most of his truthful answers would have been obvious. Of course he preferred a reaction. Of course he liked the fight, even if he was sure to lose it. And though Liem's sharp focus had surprised him, surely Liem knows by now of his husband's penchant for danger.

Liem had looked good, sharp and dangerous in the snow; he looks better now, sex-mussed and dark-eyed, looking at Cardan like he intends to make a meal of him, still. Cardan tips his face down, his tongue teasing over the digit in his mouth, indulgent. Funny, how different it feels from his own spiteful, demanding exploration of Liem's teeth.

The corner of his mouth curls into a self-satisfied smile. ]

[It is impossible to behold Cardan like this — to straddle him within the circle of his arms, still full of him, still surrounded by his scent — and not ache to have more. More of his touch; more of his kiss; more of his heated, wanting looks. Liem swallows, hopelessly distracted, as Cardan sucks his thumb into his mouth, hands pulling him close. This is not the highest he's been after drinking blood, but he has had more than he might have on other nights, and it makes the throb of desire beneath his skin difficult to entirely sate.

So he does not bother with temperance, for once. His other hand slides up, smearing through the blood on Cardan's skin as he traces fingers along his shoulder and neck, over the lines of his jaw, the sharp point of one elegant ear. He wants to see him; wants to drink in the sight of him, to sup on it like he's already drunk the life in his veins. And he wants to move against him again, to grind his hips against him for the sheer indulgence of it — so he does, with a soft, hungry exhale as he devours him with his eyes.]

Dishevelment looks so good on you, [he murmurs, sliding his fingers into Cardan's already sex-mussed hair.] But then… everything does.

[ Liem grinds against him and Cardan's grip tightens in surprise; the delicious friction tears a heated little sound from his throat, involuntary and wanting. His eyes lock on Liem's gaze, meet his hunger with Cardan's own intemperate wanting. At this moment, with Liem's weight on top of him, with those gentle hands whispering over his face, his ear, Cardan cannot imagine any part of himself he would not offer up to him.

He releases Liem's finger from his mouth, pulling away with one last, languid swipe of his tongue. The look Cardan directs his way is not languid at all, and neither is the impatience in his voice. ]

You, [ Cardan will tell him, leaning forward until his mouth is millimetres from Liem's, mere breaths away, ] are being a tease.

[ Which is Cardan's job, clearly; it Cardan who should be rolling his hips against, into Liem -- so he does. This time he is at least prepared for the heady, hot shiver of lust over his sensitized skin, nearly too intense to endure. He does it again, his breath stuttering. And again--

He's going to fuck Liem again, he realizes. He might fuck him in this bathtub, maybe without so much as pulling out. Even though they both had just climaxed, even though they should wish only to curl around each other and rest.

It's already been a few minutes and already he cannot think of anything else. ]

[Whatever reply Liem means to give to Cardan's reprimand is aborted for the moment, replaced with a soft gasp instead as Cardan rolls his hips up, into him. Pleasure shivers insistently through him, chased closely by a spike of lust that steals his breath. He had meant to tease a little — had wanted to see that heat and hunger reflected in his husband's face — but sensation that had been self-indulgent moments ago becomes dangerously seductive with Cardan as its instigator. He can't help but meet each roll of his husband's hips, shivering and greedy for the drag of him against his body, nor can he resist the urge to slide his tongue over Cardan's lip and then pull him closer to catch his mouth in a heated kiss.

Never mind that only minutes ago he was still reeling from climax, scarcely and to scrape together the will to move so much as a finger. Never mind that they've both been operating on barely any sleep for weeks, and dawn is already beginning to threaten the white-shrouded landscape outside. Now that he has capitulated to his want, he cannot imagine reining it in again.]

And yet, [he sighs against his husband's mouth, sliding the damp pad of his thumb over his cheek,] for my behaviour, I am rewarded.

[It is a reward fit to drive him to distraction, eager as his body is to respond to the press and slide of his husband moving against him, but he cannot help but want it. More than rest, more than dignity and self-restraint, he wants to let his husband tease him into desperation and fuck him again. Wanting Cardan has ever been unwise — and that has never made Liem any more able to resist wanting all of him regardless, no matter how much he might wish to limit himself or how much trouble his wanting brings him.]

[ It's unreasonable, he thinks, that kissing Liem feels so lovely -- particularly when his husband is being greedy and insistent about it -- when they have so little time for it on the regular.

Unreasonable and unfair altogether. ]

I am a fervent supporter of mischief.

[ Especially, he thinks but doesn't say, from terminally serious men with too many troubles on their daily ledgers. He grins his quick, bright grin and bestows a kiss onto Liem's eminently serious nose. ]

Even at my own expense.

[ His hands move, trailing over Liem's skin under the water. He wonders if the hard body under his touch is a result of martial training, though he has never seen Liem engage in such activity; then again, he has no idea what his husband does late in the afternoons when Cardan is still fast asleep. Sometimes he thinks he'd like to know, but dragging himself out of bed is difficult enough, and he's become a thoroughly nocturnal creature during his time in vampire lands.

It's easy to let his hands stray. He draws them up over Liem's chest and then back down the planes of his back, his hips, his legs. Cardan's hands run up the soft skin on the inside of Liem's thighs, splay over his hip bones -- fingers laying, feather-light, over the bruises he had left there. The bruises will be gone soon enough, he supposes, fading like a sigh in the wind. It's perpetually annoying that he cannot mark Liem the same way Liem marks him.

His fingers whisper over Liem's cock, the mere suggestion of a caress. ]

...I rather neglected to touch you. [ He was too busy losing his mind to remember, which is unlike him. Still, he doesn't sound rueful about it at all. The black gaze on Liem is instead coolly attentive. ] Though that certainly didn't stop you from coming.

[Liem cannot recall ever meeting anyone with a smile as lovely as Cardan's. Like his blood, it seems more vibrant, more intriguing, more full of promise than those of other men. Also like his blood, a taste of it only makes Liem want more. He would wonder if this was a faerie quality, but he already met no shortage of smiling Folk at their wedding; none of them had smiles as singular as his husband's.

Only Cardan's smile manages to make him feel breathless, when he has no need for breath to begin with.

Despite his fervour and his distraction, Liem's hands remain languid in their possessive wandering of his husband's face, his hair, his ears, his throat. A small smile curves the corners of his mouth, content past all shame, as he brushes his knuckles gently against Cardan's jaw. He exhales with keen-edged want as fingers whisper along his cock, but when he leans in again, the slide of his lips against Cardan's is itself barely more than a breath.]

I did tell you, [he murmurs.] I lose my patience when I drink. And… I may have tasted more of you than I really needed.

[It's just difficult to drink according to need when his husband tastes so intoxicating, and when he has such a pleasing reaction to having Liem's mouth at his throat.]

[ Another hitched breath accompanies Liem’s movement; for a moment, Cardan’s eyes flutter shut against that feather-light kiss, against the shift of Liem’s hips against his own. ]

As I lost mine. Or perhaps, more accurately, you took it from me.

[ Because it’s Liem’s fault, obviously, that Cardan wants him so keenly, all the time — mostly, Cardan imagines, because of how often Liem is unavailable. But surely even the most distant husband in the world could not provoke such longing if he didn’t feel like this or look like this, sharp-edged danger wrapped in softness. Not that he often sees Liem’s face look this gentle, even with Cardan’s blood still adorning his skin.

It prompts something tight to contract in his chest.

Long fingers wrap around Liem’s cock in earnest, setting about the task of teasing him back to hardness. Cardan himself is halfway there already, which seems like an achievement even for a man of his own rare talent.

He shivers again and then exhales, soft. ]

We do this too rarely. I shudder to think what depravity another wait like this will pull out of me.

[ It’s half joke and half promise, though the half-lidded gaze on Liem seems more considering than not. ]

[If Liem took Cardan's patience from him, he's not sure where he put it. He certainly didn't end up using it himself, at any point during his fevered pursuit of his husband's climax. He had been too busy drowning himself in him, and admittedly, although his reckless desperation has subsided, he is still every bit as loath to relinquish this rare moment of pleasure they've found for themselves. He covets Cardan's fond attention just as he covets his greed; either way, he is in no hurry to retreat to the embrace of sleep, regardless of how much they both might need it.

He just wants to stay like this, with him, for a while longer.

The stroke of Cardan's hand around his cock makes him sigh, and then squirm a little, deliberately, against his husband's hips. He slides a careful arm around Cardan's shoulders, avoiding the punctures bloodying one side, as he nibbles gently at his mouth.]

You'll make me curious with talk like that.

[It's not a strong argument for why Liem should be making more time for his husband, though the dearth of time he's had for personal desires of late has been the result of necessity rather than negligence. He'd be hard pressed to fit more in anywhere, unless they both gave up altogether on sleep — or unless Liem got over his aversion to fucking at parties.]

Then how will I ever concentrate on work?

[ That squirm is yet another delicious tease; even if Cardan had any illusions about his husband's exceptional sense of hearing, Liem is too close to miss the sharp inhale that every movement of his hips precipitates in Cardan. The friction is one thing, but it's the strange intimacy of the act that catches Cardan off-guard, that makes desire pierce through him, heady and insistent. Adding in the teeth is just unfair; it brings back memories of Liem's mouth at his throat, on his shoulder, both of which throb sympathetically in reminder.

Cardan kisses him, fervent and a little punitive about it, his own teeth far less inhibited in his exploration of Liem. The hand on Liem's cock is equally insistent; Cardan wants to see that little squirm again, wants to pull it out of Liem on his own terms -- and maybe this is a little vengeful, too, but surely his husband is used to Cardan's temperament by now. ]

You won't.

[ He says it like it's a thing Liem ought to have already known. This time, the grin that curls against Liem's mouth is sharp-edged and full of self-satisfaction. ]

As I told you: the restraint will be yours.

[ And surely Liem didn't think a faerie's promise to be without repercussions? ]

[Cardan's kiss coaxes a soft, wanting sound from Liem, and a shiver as the nip of teeth sends lust spiking through him. It is so easy, he's found, to rouse Cardan's mean side, regardless of where they are or what they're doing. It seems to flicker to life all of its own accord, and often it ends up catching him by surprise — but every single time, the surprise is unfailingly underpinned with a hot flare of excitement.

It's wonderfully efficient of Cardan to work that kind of tease into his efforts as he strokes Liem back to full, hard impatience.]

Ah…

[He rolls his hips again, fingers curling in Cardan's hair he chases that delicious friction further. He's in no hurry to give Cardan any other reply, busy as he is with kissing more of that vexing, self-satisfied mouth.

His husband takes such joy in heaping problems upon his shoulders; perhaps even as much enjoyment as Liem finds in being subjected to his whims.]

You're a menace, Cardan — but you're my menace.

[ Liem's words draw an odd little shiver from him, though the glance he directs his husband's way is considering. Cardan pauses for a moment, his expression as unreadable as he can make it. His answer is quiet. ]

I have told you this, too.

[ That very first night: Am I not your creature? Back then, Cardan had not meant it in any terms but the coldest and most perfunctory ones and Liem had seemed appalled by the thought altogether. Cardan had wondered, sometimes, what would have happened if he hadn't said it -- would they have fucked right then and escaped the weeks of dancing around each other? Probably not. Surely, he would have found some other way to punish his husband for his unhappiness.

Part of him wonders what changed Liem's mind; another part figures that he didn't. He imagines arousal makes it easy to say things one doesn't mean.

Still, it's not untrue. And being Liem's pet menace is better than being Balekin's.

Besides, there are other things to draw his focus -- though "draw" is a mild understatement for how his attention is forcefully shattered with lust whenever Liem moves. They have, somehow, managed to work their way back into wanting, and so soon; Cardan is starting to realize that maybe this kind of longing has no end and no satisfaction.

He will chase it anyway. He pulls back, his back against the edge of the tub to draw his hips out and then sharply up, fucking into Liem. The breath stutters in his throat; it's not enough. He wants-- ]

I want you under me, [ he will confess. It's a problem. He wants to press Liem down with his weight and his hands and his mouth, wants to wrest back what little control he has given up in this position, wants to bury himself entirely in Liem and earn the moniker of menace bestowed on him. ]

[If Liem were not so drunk on Cardan's touch and nearness and blood, if he were in a warier mood, he would think better of calling his husband mine, at least aloud. The word seems dangerously possessive; it has myriad implications that he hesitates to associate with any of his relationships, even this one, bound as it is by marriage vows. Liem regards his husband carefully for a quiet moment, trying to read the inscrutable expression on his face.

He did not think Cardan happy when he'd suggested, that first night, that he was Liem's. He does not know, meeting his stare, if he could call him happy now, either.

But Cardan's hands are still warm on his skin, and when he pulls back, fucks into him, the spike of sensation pulls a groan from Liem's throat. As ever, his body remains keenly, distractingly tuned to his husband's touch, regardless of what else he might think deserving of his attention.

Cardan's admission makes Liem raise an eyebrow, though the effect is lessened somewhat by the breathless longing painted over his face. He is more than a little loath to remove himself from his husband's embrace, even if it is just to briefly rearrange themselves.]

I suppose I could move. [His tone is pensive; his hands, if anything, seem to want to clutch Cardan closer. Liem nuzzles against his husband's ear, lips slightly curved.] You know, I'm starting to think this wasn't the best place for us to do this.

[This would be a little easier if his husband didn't need to breathe; as it is, the water does present a bit of an added barrier.]

[ He feels that groan travel down his spine, hot and immediate. It makes it difficult to keep his face coolly composed. Cardan will do it again, unable to resist the keen, silken pleasure of it, of seeing and feeling Liem's reaction when he thrusts into his body. How strange to be so indulgently wrapped around each other when they've spent the past weeks barely touching. ]

And whose fault is it that we're both in the tub, Liem? [ Cardan asks, quite reasonably -- if one ignores all the provocation he's done, anything is reasonable. No, this is all Liem's fault; he is to blame for Cardan's hunger, his yearning, and the rest of their current circumstance.

The combination of raised eyebrow and everything else about Liem's expression makes him smile. It's thoroughly endearing of his husband to attempt to be sober in the face of even the most ludicrous circumstance. It makes Cardan want to tease him further, to see if he can maintain that thoughtful tone even under the strain of Cardan's indulgent savour of him.

Then again, Cardan has an even worse idea. He closes his eyes in an attempt to ignore Liem's mouth, the cool brush of it against the sensitive shell of his ear -- closes them, and tries his best to focus. His arm wraps around Liem, pulling him tight against his own body; the other moves to brace against the lip of the tub.

It's necessary, if only because the water is growing tepid. ]

Hold on to me.

[ That's all the warning Liem gets before Cardan pulls them both out of the water and up, sliding onto the edge of the tub instead. ]

[Cardan’s question prompts a laugh from Liem, low and amused — and oh, that feels delightful while he’s still wrapped around Cardan’s cock. A shiver follows the laugh, even as he grazes his husband’s ear with his teeth.]

I’m not going to dignify that with an answer.

[Who is it that dumped him into the bath in the first place, after bargaining away his promise not to pull Cardan in after him, because he wanted a secret instead? Liem’s hands are feeling pretty clean right now, for all that they’re still smeared in places with Cardan’s blood.

Those same hands clutch tighter when he’s pulled tight against his husband’s body, startling a heated gasp from him. The slide of his own arms closer around Cardan in response to his command is automatic, but it takes until he moves for Liem’s sensation-drowned brain to catch up with the reason behind the imperative. They’re already sliding onto the lip of the tub before he can think that maybe he should protest, at least on the grounds that he’s been manhandled enough for one night.

But that would be a filthy lie, and he’s not going to bother. He just winds his limbs around his husband instead, valiantly resisting the urge to grind against him while they’re balanced on the wet rim of the bathtub.]

Oh… [Despite feeling like he shouldn’t be distracting his husband at present, Liem can’t quite stop himself from pressing his lips to his jaw. It’s right there, after all, and he is so eminently kissable.] I admire your dedication to getting what you want.

[ It's a good thing that Liem shows restraint because, with everything wet and slippery as it is, this is ambitious territory even for a man as coordinated as Cardan. His fingers tighten on Liem almost desperately as their weight shifts -- as Liem settles into his lap again -- trying to concentrate despite the tantalizing press of sensation. Liem's weight on him feels good, intoxicating in how he's wrapped around Cardan, wet and bare and Cardan's to maneuver as he wishes. Keeping his focus is already going to be more than a little challenging.

But Liem is right: he is determined, even if he must take a moment, his eyes closing as he reaches for composure. Another breath-- and then he'll turn to kiss Liem, hard and wanting, because he might as well get it all out while he's still got something to lean on.

Then Cardan gets to the business of getting what he wants. Both his hands come to hold on to Liem, splayed over his ass. Slowly, carefully, he will swing one leg over the side of the tub, then the other -- swivelling until he's facing outside the tub.

Then he rises. For a moment or two, his vision goes dark at the edges, but that's harmless enough-- he locks his jaw and stands resolutely still, and everything returns to normal soon. And then all that's left is the impossibly long, tricky trek to the bedroom, navigating over slick tile and through the door, with his husband distractingly, maddeningly close, shifting against Cardan with every step.

He's not entirely sure how he's going to make it without losing his mind. ]

[It is well that Cardan takes a moment to kiss Liem again once they are perched on the tub's edge, because Liem cannot be as he is — wrapped tight around him, eager for each shift and press of warm, bare skin against his own — without wanting to kiss his husband breathless. As things stand, he's not sure how he's meant to last all the way to their bed without being the cause of an accident.

Not that it would be underserved, but he happens to be rather invested in the both of them actually reaching their destination promptly.

The grip of hands on his ass makes him throb where he's trapped tight against Cardan's body, and the shift of his husband as he moves is distracting enough that, despite himself, he digs his nails hard against the scarred skin of his back. And despite the pleasing prospect of having his husband on top of him, pressing his damp body down into their sheets, he is nevertheless seduced by the prospect of Cardan simply pinning him against a handy wall and fucking him there. At the moment, he's hard pressed to think of anything else.

Hard pressed to keep his mouth to himself, too, for all that he'd intended on being accommodating while his husband so kindly carried him to their bedroom. Liem manages to wait that long, lasting until after they've crossed the threshold from tile to rug-covered-hardwood before the chaste press of his cheek against Cardan's neck becomes a nuzzle, and then a kiss.]

[ Cardan has to admit that he may have overestimated himself. The bite of Liem's nails pulls a low, bitten-off groan from him; as gratified as he is that his husband seems to have taken his request to be rougher to heart, this is hardly the time. It is already taking so much of his thought to concentrate on walking straight, on not dropping Liem or slipping on the tile. It's arduous to remain poised when every one of his senses is teased raw by pleasure, when Liem is still warm and wrapped so tightly around him--

The mouth on his throat cracks his composure. He stops, toes digging into the silk rug as one arm comes out to brace himself against the wall, leaving only one of his hands to support his husband. Not that this matters, giving how tightly Cardan is gripping him. ]

Liem...

[ The growl comes through gritted teeth; Cardan's eyes are slivers of black as he glares down at Liem, his breath heavy in his chest. For the first time, he considers it a curse that their bedroom is as spacious as it is.

He also considers dumping his suddenly impertinent husband back in the bath. Unfortunately, this would deprive him of the strange pleasure of Liem's mischief, not to mention the silken cling of his body around Cardan-- and who is he, if not a creature who seeks pleasure above all? Even when it is difficult. Even when stopping is worse, because now he has nothing at all to distract him from the lust pounding wild through his veins. ]

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