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I love me some gen threads, especially funny or drama-filled ones, but I am also shamelessly here for shipping AUs. The general Liem-shipping vibe is "I want more than this, but I shouldn't & they can't possibly want me back," so if you're into that, I've got what you need. His default setting is very D&D-like high fantasy, but I'm comfortable playing him in modern fantasy settings as well. Pretty much any prompt can also accommodate Liem being a full vampire instead of a dhampir, if that's your thing.

Prompts for inspiration:
• Arranged Marriage: Liem's shady vampire family has arranged his marriage to you, but he seems a rather reluctant fiance.
• Bodyguard Shipping: It's Liem's duty to keep you safe and out of trouble, possibly despite your best efforts.
• Companion to Royalty: Reclusive vampire king Liem and YOU! Are you a gift from a local power? Sacrifice from the townsfolk? Or did you just stumble up the road to his castle during a storm?
• Enemies to Lovers: Maybe Liem is a foreign agent trying to sabotage your country or organization. Or maybe you're rebelling against the current regime and he's trying to take you in.
• Fake Dating/Fake Married: A relationship is your cover story while you're travelling for some secret reason. Gotta keep up appearances.
• Hunter & Hunted: Are you a hunter trying to track Liem down? Or a snack that proved more than he bargained for?
• Hurt (Comfort Optional): Whether he's hurt, sick, drugged, or just upset, two things remain constant: Liem needs help, and he doesn't want to accept it. But maybe you don't want to fix him anyway; maybe you want to make him worse.
• Living a Lie: Whether you're undercover on a mission, or you lied to cover something up and now you have to commit, you're stuck playing a role until you accomplish some secret objective — or until you can shake off your nosy company.
• Loss of Control: For whatever reason, one of you is struggling not to go berserk — or perhaps has already failed. If it's Liem, can you help him come back to himself, or are you the one pushing him over the edge?
• Out of the Frying Pan: The classic "tried to help someone in trouble, ended up with a new and possibly worse problem" situation. But at least you're in it together!
• Priest/Celibacy: Default here is that Liem is the priest, but it could go the other way. Smutty, or just laden with UST? You decide.
• Texting: Stupid TFLN-style text threads, my beloved...
• Random Scenario: For if none of the above tickle your fancy.

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And when, Cardan, was your dutiful husband meant to acquire a tolerance for Faerie liquor?

[Liem poses this idle question as they pass through Hollow Hall's dim little back corridors, unseen and unnoticed, even by the dreaming humans who pass them by. He begins to understand the strangeness his husband must have experienced upon his arrival to Ironside, when he moved into his new groom's home and had to contend with human staff who were all clear-eyed and fluent of speech. Even the dominated staff at other vampires' homes don't tend to display such profound neglect.

It works out in their favour tonight. There is no one to question their quiet passage through the manor, no one to note the way their fingers twine together or the way Liem cleaves as close to his husband as the space will reasonably allow, stealing longing glances at Cardan in the low light. It is only once they emerge near the stables that Liem attempts to recall himself some dignity, so that he can at least climb back into the carriage without wobbling on the way up.

He is intensely grateful for the privacy the little space provides, and sighs back against the seat as soon as the door closes.]

I did not imagine you were yet so vulnerable.

[ He's not unaware of the closeness of Liem's body to his, of the way he keeps glancing at Cardan -- and he remembers the relief on his husband's face when he'd spotted him. Perhaps Liem is drunker than Cardan had initially thought -- and happier than he is letting on about being herded back home. He supposes anyone in that position might have been glad to see a co-conspirator's face.

Well, Cardan is all too happy to play caretaker.

For now, he will settle opposite Liem, not quite as languid and lounging as he usually might. It's only once they have rattled past the gates of Hollow Hall that Cardan allows himself to breathe out a little of his tension. His eyes find his husband's face, careful in their catalogue of his features -- the huge, dark eyes, the sharp cheekbones, his mouth. He wonders if Liem might taste of liquor, and then-- wonders why on earth he should have to wonder about this. ]

Come here, [ he will demand, quietly, holding out his hand. ]

[Cardan says that he had not imagined Liem yet so vulnerable — and truthfully, neither had Liem. He had not conceived of a drink capable of rendering a vampire — even one especially disinclined to excess — intoxicated with a single sip. Moderation did not exist when it came to such things; but then, what concern was that to folk who had no desire to use restraint to begin with?

It speaks to a failure of his imagination, that he has continued to make assumptions based on his life in Ironside even in the midst of this alien place. Cardan is right to be incredulous.

He has, he knows, made trouble for them both. If Balekin seeks recompense for their insult, Liem will not be the only one to pay for it. But at the moment, he is easily distracted. It is a simple thing for Cardan to lift him from his melancholy.

He has only to extend his hand, and Liem reaches out to take it, claiming it for himself as he crosses the modest space between them to straddle Cardan's lap. He places that hand where he so keenly wants it, which at the moment is against his gently flushed face, cupped beneath his own. And, breathing out a small sigh, he leans close to catch Cardan's mouth in a kiss.]

[ For his part, now that they are merrily returning to the palace, Cardan is blissfully unconcerned with Balekin's rage. He has ever liked to stoke it, just a little -- oft to his detriment, but also to prove that he was not yet a bird fully caged. If Balekin questions him about their hasty departure, he can always blame it on Liem... or some offence the party guests must surely have committed against either of them. The Circle of Grackles is a bitchier court than even the Circle of Larks; there will be no shortage of potential insults to pick from.

It's stupid to worry about. Not when he has secured the money they came to Elfhame for, and especially not when he has his uncommonly pliant and affectionate spouse in his lap. Cardan's other hand joins his first in cradling Liem's face, fingertips still fascinated with the gentle spread of that blush -- not warm, not really, even though it feels like it should be. He worries instead about tasting the traces of revelry on Liem's lips, and whether intoxication will allow Cardan to finally be the one to kiss his husband breathless. He thinks not, but his attempt will be valiant regardless. ]

You look so good like this, [ he will murmur-- and then catch himself and frown a little, pulling away, Liem's face still caught in the cage of his fingers. ] How are you feeling?

[ ...perhaps he should be more concerned. Cardan is not a restrained drinker, but the liquor he smells on Liem will get even him on the road to oblivion sooner rather than later. ] And how much have you had, anyway? Half a bottle? More?

[Kissing Cardan is a much more agreeable activity for Liem to be devoting himself to than considering the difficulties that might yet find them further down the road. He settles more comfortably against him, hands slipping inside his coat in the quest to touch his husband in all the ways he'd so diligently avoided earlier that evening, and he seeks comfort in those hungry kisses and the warm, curious fingers framing his face.

On nights like this one, Faerie seems just as fantastically bewildering as ever — but no matter how lost he feels amongst the sea of wicked smiles and pointed ears, Cardan remains his harbour and his north star. He is the one thing in Liem's life that he can count on to remain constant, and when he is alone with him, it's amazing how easily other concerns manage to fade into the background.

He is indeed breathing rather more noticeably when Cardan pulls back to regard him, and warmth flutters eagerly in his chest in a way that is probably, hopefully just because of the liquor. He blinks for a moment as he summons the reason for his husband's questions back to his mind.]

Drunk and foolish, [he admits, though this should be no great surprise.] I had… It was only a couple ounces, probably.

[It had not seemed like a threatening quantity of drink at the time.]

[ Liem’s proximity is, as always, distracting. It takes him a moment — caught up in the touch sneaking under his clothes, in the lovely cadence of Liem’s breath and the lithe weight of his body in Cardan’s lap — to process the answer to his own question.

His eyebrows rise. ]

…it appears you have been tricked. As have I.

[ A little funny, really; they have both overestimated Liem, albeit for different reasons. He should be angry at the interloping courtiers, probably, but it’s difficult to do when his deeply attractive husband is in his lap, affectionate and drunk and apparently relieved to be with him.

Cardan sighs, a little wistful, and lets his hands settle on Liem’s thighs, stroking absent-mindedly along the fine fabric of his trousers. But his eyes are half-lidded when he regards Liem’s face, and there is something greedy hiding in the velvet-soft affection of his voice. ]

How drunk, Liem?

[ The fingers on Liem’s thighs splay, a little possessive. If Cardan’s sly smile is any indication, he is no longer asking out of concern. ]

[Cardan's scrutiny and the surprised lift of his brows might have caused Liem some embarrassment, had it not been for the cushion of drink insulating him from his troubles. Even if he were to feel shame at his husband's observation that he'd been tricked, it could hardly show on his face, given how the liquor has already painted a flush across his cheeks regardless.

But that is of little concern to him. For the past week, he has been endeavouring to support his husband in whatever way he can, to be his partner and ally even in this land he knows so little about. But this is still Cardan's home, in its own way, not Liem's — and in some ways it's relieving to be a little unprepared, to have his weaknesses exposed and to simply lean on Cardan for once, letting him take the reins.

He does lean on him, when Cardan moves his hands down to Liem's thighs. Liem rests his forehead against Cardan's with a soft sigh, letting his eyes sink closed for a moment. With his eyes shut, the motion of the carriage is enough to make his head spin.]

Substantially, [he murmurs.] The kind that I've only ever previously arrived at by working at it.

[With the kind of liquor available in Ironside, how could it have been otherwise?]

And usually, in private.

[ Cardan watches him, for a moment, looks at the soft curl of Liem’s lashes against his cheeks and the curve of his mouth, and feels an odd tenderness entirely incongruent with his plans for the night. It feels, strangely, like Liem is entrusting himself to him. He looks dangerously vulnerable like this — delicate in a way Cardan had never thought of his husband as being. He doesn’t know what to do with the strangely protective instinct that seizes him at the sight.

His breath out is quiet, deliberately measured. ]

Are you tired?

[ He tilts his face to brush his mouth against the corner of Liem’s, more a caress than a kiss, achingly gentle about it. His hands sweep indulgently up to Liem’s slim hips, his waist, drag careful fingertips up over his chest until Cardan’s palms find their way to that flushed face once more, cradling him there. He’s a little jealous: of Liem’s drunkenness, of the ease with which he seems to trust Cardan with himself, undeserving as Cardan may be — undeserving as he almost certainly is. ]

[The smile that twitches over Liem’s mouth spreads with a soft and uncharacteristic ease as warm lips brush his skin. His husband is a far cry, now, from the forbidding figure that had stalked through Balekin’s party to chase away his overbold companions. Liem has come more and more to treasure the rare moments of tenderness that he manages to find with him — moments that seem to appear of their own accord, so spontaneously that he isn’t sure even Cardan expects them.

Ordinarily, he tries not to let this alarming degree of contentment be overtly obvious — for reasons that seem insignificant at the moment, caught as he is in this easy, dizzying bliss. Would it be the end of the world, if his own husband knew that he made Liem happy?]

No, [he says, tipping his mouth into a lingering, affectionate kiss.] Just…

[He interrupts his own thought, too intent on kissing the soft curve of his husband’s mouth, on chasing the intimate feeling of warm hands cradling his face and Cardan’s breath soft against his lips. How often is he indulged like this? How often does he let himself want to be?]

Just relaxed. You’re so warm.

[ Cardan has been kissed many times in his life: soft kisses and hard ones -- bored ones from courtiers who were with him just to be seen, earnest ones from the besotted, and ardent ones from those caught in the throes of passion. Why is it, then, that the way Liem's mouth molds to his feels like something secret and a little new? He feels heat curl insistently in his belly, sweet and eager and wanting. ]

Indulgence looks delightful on you.

[ Cardan's mouth curves into another satisfied smile, though he cannot quite summon his usual sharp, mischievous edge to go along with it. Instead, he hides it against the crook of Liem's neck, pressing hot, unhurried kisses just above his unnecessarily stiff collar. If his tail were out, it would be making satisfied loops against the velvet cushions of the seat.

Liem isn't tired, which means that Liem is in rather more danger than he probably suspects. Even back at the party, with all his irritation bubbling through his blood, Cardan had the forethought to swipe a single, specific little bottle off a low side table. It burns a hole in his jacket pocket now.

But that is a trick for later. Now, his touch trails to Liem's chin, a single long finger pressing to the underside of it, directing Liem to look at him. He has, if nothing else, regained his smugness; affectionate hunger lives in the gaze he directs at his husband. ]

I wonder how much of it you're willing to give me.

[Liem hums, soft and breathless and eager, at the heated wandering of Cardan's mouth over his neck. Any lingering worries he might have had about his husband's meeting with Balekin are swept aside as he tips his head in invitation, exposing a little more of his neck to Cardan's mouth. He winds an arm around his husband's shoulders, holding covetously onto him as their transport rumbles along.

If there are lingering concerns that will need to be addressed as a result of this outing, they will need to wait until he's sober regardless.

After all, what a shame it would be to deny his husband the chance to enjoy him like this, dizzied with affection and ease as he so rarely is. Liem is loath to deny him anything without a good reason, and at the moment, he cannot think of anything he objects to less than Cardan's gentle touch and leisurely kisses. The light pressure beneath his jaw sends a small, pleasurable shiver down his spine, and the hungry look in Cardan's regard makes a sweet little thrill of want flare low in his belly. Only the light contact of that finger stops him from leaning in again to kiss his husband's smug mouth.]

You can have whatever you like from me.

Ah—

[ It’s the answer he expects, and still it sends an electric little thrill through him, charged with heady desire. ]

You may regret that offer, [ he will murmur, but it’s in the velvet-soft tone of a man who cannot help his obvious pleasure, and who isn’t planning on taking anything back.

Instead, he tips his palm so he can run his thumb over the curve of Liem’s lower lip, as he’s done so many times before. He’s ever been a man too in touch with his many wants; there is barely a pause between his smiling warning and the first of his demands. ]

I want your mouth, Liem. I want it on me. Here, in this carriage.

[ He thinks back on that night at the townhouse, when Liem had stripped him, when Cardan’s hand had been in his hair and that dangerous mouth had trailed down his chest, and he had thought, for a moment, about how it would look wrapped around his cock. He thinks of it sometimes, still, when paperwork is boring and Liem is too busy to entertain him.

His gaze on his husband is considering. ]

Will you give me that, too?

[Liem's lashes dip briefly when his husband's hand tilts, when his touch traces along his bottom lip. He cannot contend with Cardan's touch on his face without being absorbed by it, without wishing to tip his face into those stroking fingers and press kisses against the skin there. He wishes to kiss many places on his husband, of course — but his hands, clever and beautiful and tender, have long been an object of his fascination.

Cardan warns that he may regret offering himself up so freely, and he knows that his husband can be imaginative with his whims. Still, Liem does not think he will regret it at all.]

Yes.

[Yes, he says; he will give that to him, happily. Certainly he has done so enough times in his own idle fantasies, even if none of them ever managed to get past his lips.

And he does tip his head, just enough to press his mouth sweetly to the flesh between Cardan's thumb and finger, soft and lingering, as he slowly unwinds his arm from about his husband's shoulders. His palms slide down Cardan's chest, down his waist, to splay over his hips. Holding his husband's gaze, he slides off of his lap and back, to a kneeling position on the cramped carriage floor.]

Did you think I might not?

[ Cardan watches Liem's descent with a marked uptick in his pulse; it hammers in his throat, too eager despite his languid eyes and calm hands. They trail to Liem's shoulders, and then up again, tracing the gentle points of his ears, sliding into the hair he had spent such efforts on earlier this night. Despite asking for it, he had not realized how much he'd wanted this until Liem was kneeling on the floor in front of him; now desire hits him with a dizzying intensity, intoxicating in its own right.

But his husband is asking questions, which is as good a distraction as any. ]

I dare not assume where your preferences lie. [ His shrug is as easy as the self-assured, deceptive little smile on his face. ] They surprise me often enough.

Besides, I would not have. [ He pauses, then amends: ] Prior to you.

[ It had always seemed like an act of debasement, somehow, until that night in Liem's bedroom, with nevermore shimmering in his blood and the strange frustration of Liem's refusal to give up on their marriage. A prince of Elfhame did not suck cock; certainly he cannot imagine Balekin nor Dain in the act. ]

No?

[Liem sighs into Cardan's wandering touch, the pleasant slide of elegant fingers over his ears and into his hair. He slides his own hands down as he nestles himself between his husband's legs, stroking idly over the fine fabric clothing his thighs. Not only does he look exceptionally pleasing from this angle, gazing down at Liem like this, but the immediate uptick in the sound of his heartbeats makes a quiet little smile curl over Liem's expression — like his stirring excitement is a secret that he's not meant to know.

He should have done this long before now. Only, it had seemed too brazen a thing to offer, when he hadn't known whether his husband would allow such a thing. For all that Cardan might not have been willing to get on his knees for another man, there was a certain amount of trust inherent in consenting to the reverse. Certainly, Liem had never felt anything but at Cardan's mercy when his mouth was on his cock.

Leaning closer, he spreads Cardan's thighs a little with his hands — so he can tug open the top fastening of his fly with his teeth.]

You indulge me so, husband.

[He is not sure if he means Cardan's willingness to blow him, or the opportunity he's just been afforded. He's pleased about both. Liem's fingers make swift work of the rest of his fly, and slide inside to give him a few unhurried strokes — but his eyes are still trained upwards, on his husband's.]

[ The maneuver Liem pulls with his teeth takes him by surprise; somehow, even after all these months, he does not expect Liem to be provocative. And what else can one call this, if not provocation? ]

…you are easy to please.

[ In this, and in most things. He will never not be thrilled by the liberties his formal, prudent husband permits him to take — by how receptive Liem is to his whims, how easily he bends to the most unreasonable of Cardan’s desires. It makes him want to be worse — greedier, more demanding.

His breath slides out of him in a soft, pleased sigh at the unhurried slide of cool fingers. As always, his skin feels overheated against his husband’s touch, his desire shivery in his blood. His interest in this has been at least a little pragmatic — he has big plans for the night ahead, and they will require patience of him.

And still, he wants that dangerous mouth with a startling ferocity. ]

Besides, you don’t yet know of all the terrible things I wish to do to you.

[ His easy grin places the statement somewhere between a threat and a promise. ]

[A soft laugh escapes Liem at his husband's vaguely threatening proclamation. He cannot think of a single occasion when Cardan had laid his hands on him that didn't make Liem eager for more of his touch. Now, with liquor gently colouring his cheeks and making his blood hum, the prospect of being subjected to his husband's wicked caprices makes want coil in his belly.]

I can be patient.

[Even intoxicated as he is, Liem is content to attend to his husband's request now and let Cardan reveal his designs at his own leisure. He has enough to occupy him for the moment regardless.

Cardan still looks unfairly handsome like this, with hunger in his eyes and a sigh of satisfaction on his lips. Liem wants more of that — wants to see him caught up in his own pleasure, too hungry and eager to think of anything else but Liem's mouth and Liem's hands. When he frees the cock from Cardan's trousers, the kisses that he smears along the shaft are hungry too, lips and tongue wandering, both deliberate and intent, as he acquaints his mouth with the taste and shape of it.

As ever, he feels feverish to the touch — almost shockingly so, as he draws the flat of his tongue along the underside of his cock. The heat always manages to excite him further, and despite his claim to patience, he feels his own trousers grow uncomfortably tight.

But given his current occupation between his husband's thighs, he likes that just fine.]

Can you?

[ Of course he can -- perhaps better than anyone else Cardan knows. But even so, his mouth curls, smug. ]

We shall see.

[ The smile stutters when Liem's mouth finds his cock. He doesn't look away-- he can't, not even when watching makes his pulse race too keenly, the spike of need too obvious. He watches Liem's mouth and tongue, his breath caught up in their path over his skin, and does not bother hiding the naked want on his face. And why should he? Liem is his, fair and square, and Cardan has no interest in pretending that he doesn't desire him as keenly and earnestly as he does.

It would be a little late for that, anyway. He'd shown his hand months ago.

Then: the leisurely drag of tongue, preposterously obscene against the backdrop of Liem's aristocratic face. Cardan has to pull one of his hands from his husband's hair so he can brace himself against the seat instead, fingers digging into the cushion. And even when he tips his head back against the carriage wall, his breath heavy, lust coiling hot and heady in his belly-- even then, he watches, his eyes narrowed to slits. ]

Liem, [ he will ask, so softly that the rattling off the carriage nearly drowns it out, ] have you been holding out on me?

[ It's only halfway a joke. Somehow, he just hadn't expected his husband to be so at ease with this. ]

[For all that his husband wears smugness like a fine suit, Liem feels pleasure flutter behind his ribs at the look on Cardan's face as he gives him what he wanted: his mouth on him, diligent and obscene and unabashedly indulgent. He is just as eager to finally know the taste and feel of Cardan against his tongue as he is to see that satisfied, possessive look turn impatient with stoked need.

And besides, he's also eager to please. This is what his husband demanded, after all.

For a moment, as Cardan gazes accusingly down at him, Liem just smiles, looking uncommonly feline as his fingers stroke lazily over his cock. Indeed, there's no trace of unease or unfamiliarity about him as he shifts between his husband's thighs, glances back down — and then takes him into his mouth, swallowing him up as deep as he comfortably can. The heat of him invading his mouth is unfamiliar, but the weight against his tongue, the slide of soft skin, the way he fits his mouth around him are not.

One might think the presence of sharp teeth would make for a challenge, but if it does, Liem seems practised at accounting for it. He does not concern himself with petty things like breathing as he works Cardan's cock, his attentions deliberately patient — as he said he could be. And he intends to deliver.]

[ This is not a side of his husband he's familiar with. Is it the drink? But when he recalls the easy, sweet way Liem has folded himself into his lap, it is still much different from the satisfied little smile Liem flashes his way.

It is probably a little deranged that all he feels at the sight of those sharp fangs is another pang of excitement.

He breathes in when Liem's mouth slides over his cock, and for a moment, can't help the way his eyes flutter shut with pleasure. The hand in Liem's hair slips down, brushes warm knuckles over his flushed cheek, meandering and tender. His stubborn desire to touch his husband has not receded; even now, caught up in sensation, he still wishes he could get more of Liem.

But if his husband has suddenly acquired a taste for mischief, then Cardan will simply have to take a different tack.

His eyes open, focus on Liem again, and he has to field the sharp swell of want at the sight of him. It takes a measure of self-control to not give in to it, not to shiver against the cushions and tip his hips up into the mercy of that mouth. Already Cardan can think of little else. ]

You're doing so well, [ he says, and the rumble of his voice is low with need and soft with fondness -- a little arrogant and a little affectionate, even as he strokes his thumb down the slant of his husband's sharp cheekbone. ] Don't stop.

[There is such an intimate pleasure in using his mouth on his husband like this, in the transient privacy of their borrowed carriage. Liem is so enamoured with the soft sound of Cardan's breath, the speeding of his pulse and the brush of his fingers against his cheek. He looks so beautiful and so unbearably precious with pleasure lying heavily upon him, softening his elegant features. Even the arrogance that continues to live in his gaze and his seat and the gentle wandering of his touch cannot rob him of that tender loveliness; if anything, the foil of that arrogance only serves to heighten it.

It undoes Liem, a little. Maybe because of the drink, because it always makes him lean towards the sentimental. His mind has become untidy, all his thoughts and feelings set adrift instead of being tucked neatly away where they belong — so he is left at the mercy of his own yearning when Cardan strokes one gently flushed cheek, murmuring what sounds more like encouragement than demand. It quickens some warm and urgent feeling in his chest, and if he were not so immediately occupied, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from tipping his face into that touch and nuzzling against it.

Instead, he chases that blissful loveliness further, with the attentive stroke of his fingers and the indulgent slide of his mouth. He relishes all of it: the weight of Cardan against his tongue as he takes him in, the heated slide of him, the familiar taste of him as he sucks at the tip of his cock. Even if Cardan's encouragement makes him feel a little wild, even if patience becomes more difficult with each of his husband's breaths, he couldn't bring himself to stop.

Because he wants Cardan's pleasure — fiercely and incessantly. And no need of his own will distract him from that.]

[ His request for this had been strategic: he had thought it pertinent to get his own insistent needs out of the way so that he may have greater reserves of patience once they reached the solitude of their chambers, once he had Liem all to himself and at his whims' mercy. He'd wanted to come simply so he could be calm about driving Liem a little insane.

He had not thought to be so easily caught up in it.

But there is no need to hold back, for once. The Palace of Elfhame will loom over them soon, and besides, even if he had patience, how is he supposed to weather that skillful, clever mouth, the patient hands, the sight of his husband flushed and so eager to give him this pleasure? Surely no man could. ]

Liem-- ah.

[ The gasp escapes him unbidden, breathless and not at all like the cool, collected mien he'd aimed to portray. He detaches his hand from the cushion and slides his fingers into Liem's soft hair instead, joining his other hand. Hypocritically, despite his own preferences, he's achingly gentle about it. And if his hands are a little unsteady, if his breath comes in erratic gasps, it's only because pleasure races too keenly up his spine. ]

Liem, [ he says again, just to say it, because his husband's name has never felt so musical on his tongue as during moments like these. Want rises through him, keener with each stroke of Liem's gorgeously devoted mouth. Cardan doesn't want to take his eyes off him, so he bends towards him instead, even as his teeth bite down on his lip to silence the needy sounds threatening to escape him.

And if his hands curl, if they grip tight after all, it's only because he's trying not to thrust up into that dangerous, slick mouth, and because his heart is racing, and because heat floods him as his climax looms closer, more and more inevitable with each sharply drawn breath. ]

[Liem is not generally one to crave the spark of pain dragging over his skin or tugging against his scalp. (Though the sting of a bite, like probably every lover he's ever had, he does covet.) The prospect of that particular brand of torment sits ill with him, when deliberate. Just because he can easily tolerate roughness does not mean that he wants to.

And yet, the tightening of Cardan's fingers in his hair makes an aching thrill run down his spine, electric with desire. Perhaps it is the breathless, wanting way in which he says his name, or the way his teeth dig into his lip as he tries to be silent. Want looks so breathtaking on him; if he forgets to be gentle because of Liem's hands and Liem's mouth, that discourtesy is one that he'll welcome eagerly.

He just wants to hear the rhythm of those sharp breaths stutter, wants to feel Cardan tremble with it when his pleasure overwhelms him completely. And he wants to taste him, for once in a way that he hasn't yet done. It is that dizzy, drunken want more than any thought for propriety that will keep his mouth dutifully stroking Cardan as his pulse races higher and his climax threatens — and when he does come, his eyes will still be caught fast on Cardan's face.]

[ Orgasm crashes into him like a tidal wave: slowly and then all at once, surprising him with its power, with the way that pleasure drags him under. He wants to watch Liem until the last -- tries to keep his gaze locked on that bright, crystalline blue, and yet-- When his climax rocks through him, it's all he can do to hold on to him. His eyes slide shut; a breathless, wanting moan escapes him as he shivers through it, as he comes undone under the caress of Liem's mouth.

Still, he blinks his eyes open as soon as he can manage. The exhausted black gaze finds Liem's again, eager for the sight of him. As the grip of Cardan's fingers loosens, as he leans his head against the carriage wall and tries to calm his racing heart, he will only watch Liem. His thoughts are uncommonly soft -- more so because he's sure that every single one of them is showing on his face, and equally certain that he lacks the capacity to silence his traitorous expression. For a moment or two, he will only breathe.

And when he's caught his breath, he is going to frame Liem's face in the cradle of his hands, tip up his chin, and lean down to kiss him, obscene in his open longing. ]

[It is everything he might have wished for: the way Cardan's eyes slide shut with the force of his pleasure, the want tangled up in that breathless moan, the way his climax trembles through him beneath Liem's caress. The sight and sound and feel and taste of him make the need in Liem coil and writhe, and that need escapes him in the soft, helpless sound he makes, muffled against the cock still occupying his mouth.

He should have done this sooner. But if he had, he doesn't know how he could ever go anywhere with Cardan without spending every carriage ride thinking about it.

He takes the opportunity, as his husband subsides against the carriage wall, to straighten back up and take a cursory breath. Even now, Cardan smells as he always has, tastes as he always has: uniquely herbal, like he is just a plant somehow magicked into the shape of a man — but one that Liem is nonetheless eager to get his mouth all over. Especially now, with that soft look on his husband's face making him feel strangely desperate.

He presses himself into that kiss like he's been starved for them, like he wasn't kissing his husband only minutes ago.]

Cardan…

[He murmurs it against his mouth, because he's here, and because he can. His husband, his lover, his—]

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