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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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[ It's a difficult task Liem has put before him: to think of a dare that will take his husband away from him as little as possible. Because it's obvious, by the way Liem clings to him, that he does not wish to part -- and neither does Cardan want to relinquish his pleasant weight nor the covetous arm around him.

He hums softly as he deliberates, fingers stroking idly through Liem's soft hair, disheveling its artful styling. His head tilts automatically, naturally as breathing, to allow for the journey of Liem's mouth -- and just then, the task occurs to him anyway.

He grins, glancing down at his husband. ]

What I wish for, Liem, is to mark you. Once for each of your years.

[ His fingertips find Liem's neck, slide idly along the elegant line of his throat, tracing along cool skin. ]

But alas -- we both know any bruise of my making would fade before night's end.

[ Though he is mainly grateful for his husband's unnatural toughness, it is vexing that he can never claim Liem in this way and have the evidence stay. It disappears like so much smoke, leaving skin as perfect and unmarked as if it had never been touched; it takes much of the satisfaction out of the game.

But not tonight, for Cardan has a solution that should satisfy them both. His fingers slip off Liem's neck, flitting instead to his own; he pushes aside the lacy edge of his collar, revealing the slant of a pale collarbone. ]

...so let me have them instead, that we both may recall these pleasures for a while.

[ Even if it does mean Cardan must wear high necklines and opaque fabrics for the next little while. ]

[Cardan is right to suppose that Liem might begrudge a dare that obliged him to release his affectionate embrace for very long, or restrain himself from decorating his husband's skin with his kisses. After all, since his husband went to such lengths to ensure Liem actually celebrated his birthday, surely he should be allowed to enjoy it as he likes: wrapped around his spouse, indulging the wants he is obliged to shelve on most other occasions. Given his desires, Liem greets Cardan's choice of dare with a slow, pleased curl of lips against his jaw.]

How admirably efficient.

[The thought of rising in the evenings with slow-fading reminders of this night peppered over Cardan's bare skin makes eagerness flutter in his belly — and it is no trial at all to turn his attention from his husband's jaw to his throat instead. He simply needs to tilt his mouth down to brush it over the elegant curve of pale neck, accept the invitation it presents, and suck a deliberate mark into the skin there.]

You always wear these so well…

[He seems in no hurry at all, seeing no point in attempting to rush through such a thing. His meandering journey over Cardan's throat continues, wandering it with soft, exploratory kisses as he unhurriedly seeks the site of his next mark.

Eventually, one of these marks will surely be a bite. Whether it will be soon or only on the twenty-fifth remains to be seen.

But he has still barely begun, and since he sees no reason to wait until he has finished to do so, he murmurs, between kisses, against the front of Cardan's throat:]

So. Truth or dare?

[ Even before he had set Liem his task, Cardan knew it would become a trial of his own. He is ever weak to the ministrations of that ardent mouth, of unbearably soft kisses and the sharp, dangerous fangs he knows to be lurking behind them. But neither knowing nor expecting it prevents the wanting shiver that takes him when his husband sets about his mission, nor the heat that spreads, as if by magic, from Liem's unhurried touch.

When he lets himself sink back down onto the rug, his covetous hands pull Liem down with him. He is hardly in the mood for moving, either -- and anyway, his husband has never been particularly inclined to boss Cardan around. And so. ]

Truth, [ he murmurs, careful to keep his breath steady around the word, as if the jump in his heart rate isn't betraying him regardless. How strange that it should be so easy to give up his secrets when he had guarded them so jealously all of his life. But then, in all their time together, Liem has never asked him for a forfeit he was ill-prepared to give. ]

Though you are... mm, being cheated. Given I cannot speak anything but.

[Liem doesn't wait for Cardan's reply before sucking another mark against his throat, following him down again onto the rug at the pull of warm, insistent hands. He has been patient up until now, he thinks; he's indulged his affection without rushing into fanning his desire. But Cardan has dared him to decorate him thoroughly with marks, and surely he doesn't expect Liem to play coy with such a task.

So as he lets his husband tug him down atop him, he slips cool fingers beneath the lacy neck of his shirt, pulling it aside to expose more unblemished chest and collarbone, the elegant line of one shoulder, all of which he intends to kiss thoroughly. His other hand, with patient industry, attends the task of tugging the fabric free of Cardan's trousers.]

I don't feel cheated.

[Liem hides a grin against Cardan's shoulder, already supremely pleased by the marks on his pale throat and by the speeding of his heart. Perhaps Cardan is bound to the truth on every other night as well, but he's certainly not obliged to divulge whatever truths Liem asks for.]

Tell me a story about yourself, husband. A true story; one that I don't know yet.

[ Cardan raises an eyebrow at the number of specific conditions Liem has attached to his request; it’s interesting to see his spouse picking up on some rather Faerie habits. Though, in this specific case, it is also a little unnecessary: every story is at least a little bit true, and Cardan would not be so boring as to tell Liem something he already knows.

The problem, he realizes, is deciding which story to tell. He filters them through his head, not helped at all by the transit of cool hands over his skin. Liem’s efforts in tugging his shirt out of his waistband also happen to free his tail; it slithers out, sweeping restlessly over the rug. When Liem’s mouth descends onto his newly bared skin, the tip trembles in tune with Cardan’s slow and meticulously controlled breathing, even as his eyes flutter shut, lost in sensation.

There is no shortage of strange and raucous experiences in his memory — and yet the choice is surprisingly difficult. So many of his good memories are with Nicasia, but it seems uncomfortable to share those with his husband now, when he already knows they were together for some of that time. The others are often awful in some way or other; he doesn’t think Liem would like to hear a story of his cruelty towards someone else, nor every childish prank he had pulled in his teenage years. A story like that would be charming from his eternally composed husband, but from Cardan’s lips it would surely sound like boasting at best, embarrassing drivel at worst.

In short, Liem is right: he loathes to talk about himself. ]

You make it difficult to concentrate, [ he complains, for all that he is the very cause of his own woes. Still, his hands find Liem’s hair, the nape of his neck, warm fingertips splaying down his collar as Cardan arches languidly against him, biding for time. ]

…but very well. You have met the moth, but you know not whence it came from, nor how I came to bring it with me to Ironside. Let me tell you about that.

Oh… Am I?

[The smile that Liem presses against Cardan's collarbone at the sound of his husband's complaint is a little playful. How could he have guessed that Cardan might find Liem's affections distracting when trying to tell his story? After all, Cardan has never hesitated to demand things of Liem while distracting him with his touch. Surely this kind of thing should be easy for him, in that case.

Not that Liem is being particularly cruel in his efforts, anyway. For the time being, his hands stay contentedly above Cardan's waistband, busying themselves with sweeping his shirt open and getting all over the lithe, moonlit body beneath. His mouth wanders over the graceful line of his collarbone and back up to his shoulder at leisurely pace, leaving a trail of cool kisses in its wake, pausing here and there to suck another mark into the skin.]

Tell me then, Cardan, [he murmurs, sliding further down his husband's body so he can pay proper attention to his chest. He takes a momentary break from his mission so he can flick his tongue over a nipple. He intends to leave a proper mark there, too, but first he observes,] You do not seem terribly fond of it.

[ It occurs to him that he may have failed to consider just how large a number twenty-five is; already his skin feels primed to touch, heated and sensitive where Liem's mouth trails. And still, and still--

Cardan prides himself on few things as he does his ability to feign indifference. They are far past that point now -- he is too flushed, his tail too twitchy and responsive, his breath a little too erratic despite his best efforts. Still, it is the least he can do to keep his voice calm and even, to school his features into something resembling hauteur.

Even if his hands tense at the tease of Liem's tongue over his nipple; even if it sends a startling little jolt of pleasure through him. This is only the second time he's given his husband free rein over himself in this way, and he is starting to think that it was unwise. ]

I am not, [ he agrees, quite easily. ]

It was my mother's pet, not mine. She found it in... [ Already he has to pause; already he must take a careful breath in, his fingers tightening on Liem an infinitesimal amount. ] ...in the Crooked Forest, and fed it wine and honey from her own hands until it was tame.

[ Which is most certainly more care than she had ever shown him, but then he was only her son, and not some far more useful creature that could transport her above the clouds.

Not that he's bitter. What does he have to be bitter about, when his husband is so generous with his touch, when the stars are clear and bright above them, and the night creatures sing their forest songs all around? Nothing at all. ]

It's why it doesn't listen.

[ And if he sounds vaguely annoyed about that, all the better to hide the slightly breathless way his voice flutters towards the end. ]

[One might think that Liem isn't listening either, from the ardent attention he's busy paying to Cardan's body. Certainly his hands are occupied with it, gliding over feverishly warm skin, luxuriating in the way Cardan moves beneath his attentions, feeling the restless rise and fall of his breaths. He teases his husband's other nipple with gentle fingers even as he lingers about the first, nibbling sensitive skin before each mark he stamps on Cardan's chest.

But he is listening, even so; even if he is more captivated by the distracted quality of his husband's breaths than with the story of his mother's pet moth.]

And yet, it is back at my house, sleeping in my stables.

[It is notably not still in this wood, lurking within the summery shelter of Elfhame's lush, still-green trees. Liem does not bother to ask how his mother's pet came to be in his possession; it was apparent long before now that neither of Cardan's parents have been involved in his life for a long time. Whatever became of Cardan's mother, she is clearly not here.

However the moth came to accompany Cardan on his journey to his new groom's home, Liem lets his husband reach that part of his tale in his own time. After all, Liem hasn't bestowed even half the marks he's been tasked with yet. He can't neglect his mission.

And so, he slides a little further down, to trail more of those cool, open-mouthed kisses over Cardan's stomach, and to claim him there as well.]

Mm. [ Closing his eyes may have been a mistake; it only makes the tease of Liem's mouth more all-consuming in his thoughts. He swallows, hard, biting back the heated little sound that threatens to rise from his throat when Liem focuses attention on his nipples. He should have known, of course, that his husband was going to be as thorough and conscientious about this as he is about everything else -- he should have expected nothing else, and yet he finds himself helplessly pinned beneath his attention. It turns out that languid eroticism is difficult to achieve when his trousers are already tight with his arousal and when every new bruise Liem sucks onto his skin makes Cardan want to squirm into his hands.

But he continues anyway -- slower, more considered, so that he does not stumble over his substantially more breathless words. ]

I... would bribe it. With mead, whenever I needed to... go to Ironside. That's the only way.

[ ...to reach Ironside? Well, in some ways it was. But what he meant is-- ]

To get it to-- do any... [ Under Liem's ministrations, the muscles in his stomach twitch, then tense; the tail jerks, tapping Liem's arm. For an abrupt moment, Cardan appears to hold his breath in an effort at stillness.

When he speaks again, his voice is a little strained. ] ...Liem.

[ His hands detach themselves from his husband's shoulders, his hair, to curl around his face -- to prompt him to look at Cardan as he lifts his head to glance down at his husband. His tone is as carefully even as he can make it. ]

That tickles.

[It should not rightly be possible for Liem to enjoy himself any more than he already is. He is already so captivated by his husband like this, lying half-bare and uncommonly pliant, by his own will now at the mercy of Liem's kisses. Each shift of the body beneath his lips or the hands in his hair spurs a wanting little flutter in his belly; the breathless, overly-deliberate telling of Cardan's story makes something far fiercer flare possessively in its place.

Really, he cares little for how the moth might have found its way from Elfhame to Ironside; it's Cardan's unerring focus he has always coveted, and now, with heat flushing his husband's skin and his confined erection making itself obvious with each movement he makes over his husband's hips, he quite obviously has his wish.

But his mapping of Cardan's stomach is interrupted, along with his husband's story. Delighted by the sudden (and familiar) reaction to his lips brushing lower over Cardan's abdomen, seduced by the insistent cradle of his husband's hands, Liem looks up to meet his gaze.

And smiles— no, grins at him, radiant with pleasure.]

Does it?

[His excision is that of a man who has been delivered a marvellous and unexpected gift. The prospect of making his husband struggle not to giggle during his leisurely assault is immediately seductive; the chance of Cardan being not entirely successful makes the idea irresistible.]

Well, don't leave your story half-finished, husband. Surely there's more to it than that.

[ If the predictable sharp narrowing of his eyes, if the glare that he shoots Liem's way is a little delayed, it's because that grin stutters something inside him to a halt. Between endless dinners and even more endless nights of paperwork and schemes, he cannot remember the last time he saw his husband so alight with joy -- had he ever? It makes Cardan's heart pang against his ribs, a little painful with some emotion he cannot quite grasp.

He knows immediately that he cannot let it show. And so the glare is forthcoming, all the more heated for the fact he's still twitchy and responsive under his husband's cool hands -- can't help being anything but, with how sensitized he feels.

It appears that his husband has decided to use Cardan's own tricks against him.

Very well, then; even Cardan has to admit this is fair and more than fair, even if it is a little frightening to let Liem toy with his self-control this way. But if this is what Liem wants, then surely he does not expect Cardan to make it easy on him. When he pushes himself up on one arm, his expression will have smoothed back out to cool condescension; his free hand slides into Liem's hair, cradling his head with a menacing kind of tenderness. And if he's still flushed, if he has to bite back a shiver every time Liem brushes up against this trapped erection, that's--

That's just fine. ]

Of course there is. [ The way he breathes it, it has the air of a threat. His smile flashes, toothy and sharp, and his voice has the clipped cadence of a man trying very hard to keep himself together. ]

I brought it with me [ another deliberate breath; his stomach flexes and then relaxes in time with his exhale ] to be annoying.

[Cardan truly has decided to indulge him tonight. Liem beams back at that narrow-eyed look, meeting his husband's sour little glare with playful good humour. How can he not? For all that Cardan insists on wearing his coolest expression while Liem has his way with him, he yet continues to permit him his fun. Never before has Liem had the opportunity to enjoy his birth anniversary so thoroughly.

When Cardan moves to prop himself up, Liem dips back down — beckoned back to the pale, as-of-yet unmarked stretch of midriff peeking over his waistband. If he wanted to be really salacious, he would tug his husband's trousers down to get at the tender skin between his hip bones. Perhaps he will, in a bit.

But for now he contents himself with nuzzling cool kisses against Cardan's trim stomach, intrigued by each flutter of the muscle there, pleased by the strained quality of his breath.]

Oh?

[As ever, Liem is careful with his teeth, even when nipping warm skin, gentle little bites that he then works into a mark. Perhaps the hickeys themselves won't quite tickle, but the affectionate wandering of his mouth in between certainly must.]

[ He is grateful for the cover of annoyed arrogance; it takes the place of several things that would otherwise show in his face far too clearly. Like his need -- teased a little keener with each careful press of sharp teeth. He feels pinned with it, trapped between the erotic urgency of Liem's fangs and the too-gentle brush of his mouth, which pulls bitten-off gasps out of him as he tries valiantly not to squirm. It's as if his body is confused, unsure whether to feel aroused or alight with laughter. That alone would have been more than overwhelming -- but of course, he has committed to telling a story.

One that Liem doesn't even appear to be listening to. ]

Oh, yes, [ Cardan continues, the sharpness in his voice belying his breathy undertone. He feels like he's trying to balance on a knife's edge; his fingers bite into the silken rug, knuckles white. ] All the better-- to...

[ He can't. He can't-- he bites down on his lip, but laughter threatens to bubble up anyway. Somehow his awareness of it makes it worse; the hand in Liem's hair detaches, flying up to cover his mouth, as if that will do anything, contain any of the indignities Liem is about to inflict on him. ]

To-- fuck... terrorize my insolent husband with. Ah-- h-ha... [ His stomach trembles, and then he does squirm, unable to help it, even as another breathy giggle makes its way up from his chest, and another, and-- he has to screw his eyes shut and bite down on his knuckle, and even then it hardly works. ]

Liem.

[ His dignity is in shambles; if he weren't so distracted by sensation, he might have found time to be furious. And still, something stops him from seizing Liem's hands, from pulling him away. He can feel the heat on his face, regardless of the blistering glare he directs down at his husband. He's utterly breathless, increasingly unable to keep still entirely. ]

You fiend, ha... hah--

Edited (grammar) 2023-10-01 15:06 (UTC)

[Liem does earnestly try to stick to his intentions, to pepper his husband's stomach with indulgent little love bites until he's satisfied that he's done a thorough job. After all, twenty-five is a lot of marks to bestow, and Cardan's trembling midsection presents such a tempting canvas. He'd be remiss not to pay Cardan the attention he deserves there, too.

But Liem has never heard his husband struggle so against his laughter before, nor seen him so ruthlessly robbed of his dignity. The sound of his breathless complaints wakes a tender, aching feeling in his chest; when he looks up again from the site of his newest mark, Cardan's flushed, harried glare pierces him right through.

His mean, arrogant, princely husband has no business being so endearing.]

How [— Liem says, lifting his head with a frown creasing his brows and a soft, fond look touching the very corners of his lips —] am I meant to complete my dare when you insist on tempting me so, Cardan?

[Because Liem cannot help but want to crawl back up his body, take him in both hands, and kiss that scowl off his face.]

[ The reprieve, at least, lets him take a deep breath, though he still cannot suppress the remaining shivers running over his skin, nor the sense of danger -- with Liem's hands still cradling him as they are. Still, he is grateful for the opportunity to regain at least some control over his expression.

But his glare is stymied a little by some sentiment he sees in Liem's face. Unlike his husband, Cardan isn't particularly keen on having his precious dignity trampled, not even by Liem -- who certainly gets away with doing almost everything else. Still, he cannot bring himself to be truly annoyed with him even now, just as much as he can't quite keep his hand from finding its way to Liem's face, tracing lightly along the steep cliff of his cheekbone, brushing against the corner of that soft and dangerous mouth. It just that Liem so rarely gets to indulge himself; of all the people Cardan has ever known, his husband is most alarmingly prone to denying himself pleasures in the name of duty.

He is, however, confused. ]

I am hardly the villain taking advantage of me.

[ Usually, he has a good handle on when and how he's tempting Liem, considering that he once devoted a month of his life to naught else. Right now, he has no idea what his husband is talking about. He is already menacing Cardan, and it doesn't seem to impede him from painting Cardan's skin with love bites at all. ]

[As ever, Liem responds to the touch of Cardan's fingers on his face by turning towards it, beguiled immediately by the meeting of some ever-hungry want. Though his eyes remain on his husband's face, he lifts one hand to find Cardan's fingers with his own, keeping his hand there as he leans gently into his touch.

He is not distracted from his delight at the cracks in his husband's mask of dignity; rather, he's attempting to turn it to a productive purpose. The unruly tenderness in his chest remains.]

You're right; you've lent your villainous mantle to me.

[So that Liem can amuse himself with Cardan as he so rarely does. So that he can claim him for his own and indulge desires he's rarely hinted at.

The fingers cupping Cardan's hand slide down to his cuff, to loosen it and coax the lacy fabric back from his wrist. Since he has lifted his attention from his husband's bare abdomen for the moment, he may as well devote it here. Sliding his touch up Cardan's inner forearm, he tilts his mouth to find the soft skin there, recalling as he does the last occasion Cardan had offered his wrist to him. This time, though, he only intends to leave a bruise.]

My valiant, long-suffering husband, [he murmurs, a bit wryly.] Your laughter is enchanting — and you have an eminently kissable scowl.

Don't think flattery will soften my ire, [ grouses Cardan, even though it absolutely will and is. But that's why Liem ought not to think it: because it's working too well already, and it would be dangerous if his husband understood just how much sway his affection holds.

And he is too primed for tenderness – too shivery with pleasure at Liem's cool fingers traversing up his sleeve, to his mouth finding the sensitive skin at his wrist with its hammering, heated pulse. That even this should feel enchanting is testament to some strange sorcery; for all that Liem is not the one with magic in his veins, he has nonetheless entangled Cardan in his web as well as any of the Fair Folk could.

It's so different from the last time, when Liem had been the one overwhelmed, unmoored with sensation. It makes Cardan a little nervous – and still, he cannot deny Liem any of his wants. Not because it's his birthday – not even because it's in the terms of the game they are playing. It's just that his husband is so dangerous and beautiful in the moonlight, that his hands are so certain and his desire for Cardan so deliberate. It's weakness on Cardan's part to indulge it; and yet, and yet…

Ah, but he does want to kiss Liem. It is torturous to wait for him to have his fill of this activity, which seems to have no end. Already Cardan wants him back in his lap, under the purview of his hands and his mouth, where he can be the one having his way with his husband.

But in the absence of such– ]

Truth or dare, Liem?

[ Well, he did finish his story, more or less. The fact it was a terrible effort is no one's business. ]

[Somehow, despite Liem's preoccupation with teasing his husband with kisses, and despite Cardan's ornery objections to this predation, Liem manages to near the number of marks that he'd been assigned. Though he has a few more yet to bestow, the end is in sight when he pulls his lips back from the tender skin of his husband's wrist, leaving a flushed red love bite in his wake.

He eyes it consideringly as he ponders his husband's question.]

Dare.

[Because he is not done yet, and he does not wish to further occupy his mouth with speaking at the moment. Somehow, Cardan's complaining only makes Liem more eager to be done with his mission. For all that he well enjoys dotting his husband's skin with kisses, he still misses the warmth of his lips.

Though he is still tempted to slither yet lower, to fit in one last tease before Cardan ceases to be at his mercy. The landscape of his husband's lean hips beckons with promise, and the mere thought of leaving some of his love bites there makes want flare low in his belly. Liem's thoughtful gaze slides back to Cardan's as his fingers glide over kiss-warmed skin, to the fastenings of his trousers.

This time, however, he waits, just for a moment: Perhaps to gauge his husband's reaction before he commits to menacing him further. Or perhaps simply to hear the content of his dare.]

[ He is well primed for the question; desire already simmers under his skin, stoked warm and eager by the deliberate transit of Liem's mouth over his body. His skin always feels fever-hot when Liem touches him, over-sensitized no matter where his cool fingers stray -- and now, when they stray down his abdomen, he can only shiver as he weathers that deliberate look.

He is no longer laughing, unwillingly or otherwise. The half-lidded gaze that meets Liem's is expectant. Cardan's terrible flaw, the one that forever gets him in trouble, is that he has never been smart enough to back off in time; even after all of his husband's mischief, he cannot help but want to answer the challenge.

His mouth curls. ]

I want you, [ he demands, every soft-edged word certain as a promise, ] to be greedy, husband.

[ Even if it should rob Cardan of more of his dignity, even if it is unreasonable. Liem's brazen exploration of his body has hooked its claws in him; it is the first time Cardan has seen him take his due without asking for permission. For all that he'd complained, he is curious of the shape Liem's selfishness might take.

And either way, he cannot imagine his husband would want more than he is willing to give. ]

[The answering smile curls slowly but unhesitatingly over Liem's expression. I want you to be greedy, his husband says, and he is reminded immediately of a morning many weeks ago, when he had said much the same thing. He recalls the predatory, feline look that had come over his husband, and the dangerous, seductive thrill that had shot through him in response; perhaps that same thrill is what Cardan is now courting.]

As you wish.

[He need not be coy, then, about dipping his mouth back to the warm skin just above Cardan's waistband, to taste him again with a deliberate glide of his tongue. The process of exploring his stomach with his deluge of kisses was delightful; he'd not object at all to the chance to indulge a bit more.

But he only lingers there for the time it takes for him to unfasten Cardan's trousers and pull them down his hips. His mouth descends lower, mapping a meandering trail from lower belly to hip — while his hands slide back up again, the fingers of one curling over his husband's waist, and the others skimming over a hip bone and across, to wrap around Cardan's cock and stroke.]

[ In the end, as much as he'd complained, as flustered as he'd gotten, this is still what he wants: Liem's mouth on his skin, exquisite in its indulgence; his patient, gentle hands; the sharp anticipation that creeps up his spine, delicious and novel. And when those same hands free him from the confines of his trousers, when the fragrant night air kisses his heated skin, he can only sigh and shiver gleefully into Liem's touch. A gasp slides out of him when those cool fingers wrap around him; the tail taps against the rug, restless.

Ah, but how fervently he always wants that dangerous mouth. Dangerous -- and occupied, which just means that it is up to Cardan to fill the silence with something other than his restless breaths. ]

It seems unmeet, [ he observes, warm and silken and utterly unrepentant, ] to have the guest of honour labour so for my pleasure.

[ But if it is unmeet, he is going to do nothing about it. Has he not, after all, built his whole life on the spoils of transgression? Let this be but another. He is ever the one who is endlessly greedy, in the end. His fingers find the gentle point of Liem's ear, stroke along its delicate shell, smooth over soft brown hair. ]

I wonder. Do you remember it? Last time.

[ He was so drunk, after all. Cardan is certain Liem doesn't recall much of the night at all. ]

[If a reason exists why Liem shouldn't have the pleasure of getting his mouth and his hands on his husband on his own birthday, he doesn't wish to know what it is. He is too intent on coaxing more of that shivery restlessness from his spouse, too covetous for the catch and sigh of his breath and for the taste of warm skin against his lips. He feels a little unhinged with it, drunk on Cardan's willing submission to his want, to his greedy desire for his husband's pleasure; it does not make him feel at all cheated.]

Mm.

[He hums contentedly against a damp red mark stamped next to the slant of one hip, his eyes sliding closed for a moment at the caress of warm fingers over his hair. The scrape of his teeth over yet-unmarked skin is thoughtful.]

Not well enough.

[He recalls the carriage floor solid beneath his knees, and Cardan's fingers caressing him much like this, and the heat of him against his tongue — but little else. It is a problem he intends to rectify, and as he wanders Cardan's skin with leisurely kisses and teasing nibbles, he sees no reason not to glide lips and tongue over his cock as well, for all that his attention is still required elsewhere. It's just indulgence: enough to reacquaint himself with the feel and the taste of him, before his teeth and tongue find another mark elsewhere, and his hand continues its languid caress over silken skin.]

[ Liem's response provokes mixed feelings. He'd expected it; after all, his husband had been so very, very drunk, so pliant and suggestible under Cardan's touch. It's a shame -- because the gauntlet Cardan had put him through had taken some effort and planning to achieve, and because it feels unjust that the person whom it was for is not the one who remembers it.

But Cardan also knows that the things his husband had said, in those long, pleasure-soaked hours, were not thoughts he would have voiced if he had been in his right mind. There is an odd pleasure in hoarding them to himself -- fleeting, tender little sentiments, no doubt heightened and baited by the paces he had put Liem through. They are Cardan's alone now, and he is ever jealous of things that are his.

...But his meditation on the transience of pleasure will have to wait. His thoughts shift-- slide away entirely when Liem's mouth finds his erection, drawing a heated, urgent gasp from him. For a moment, all Cardan can do is breathe, his eyes unerringly focused on Liem's face; for a moment, he wants so savagely that it wipes away everything else.

And then Liem's mouth is gone, and Cardan's teeth sink into his own lip, frustrated. He feels bereft and pinned down all at once, trapped by the stroke of his husband's deliberate fingers. As ever, this is his own fault entirely: he had set the ridiculous dare, failing to think through the consequences. It's just that being at fault doesn't make him any less hard, doesn't make his want for his husband any less urgent. He wants to complain about it, about the thorough way Liem's mouth teases bruises onto his skin, but what could he say that would spare his pride? Instead-- ]

I've been such a terrible influence.

[ He manages to sound deadpan about it, despite the way his breath catches every time Liem's mouth descends onto his skin. ]

[The dry remark Cardan summons in the face of Liem's teasing pulls a soft laugh from him, gusting over damp, heated skin. Though he remains intent on working another bruise onto the lovely canvas of his husband's body, the fingers of his free hand move automatically in a fond, idle caress over Cardan's flank. When he has finished with his current occupation, he nuzzles a kiss against his husband's skin with a smile.]

Such royal arrogance, [he observes. The idea that Cardan lured his staid, dutiful husband into mischief with his own habits delights Liem more than a little, not least of all because of how embarrassingly obedient Liem has been for him since almost the first time Cardan touched him.

He has not yet made his twenty-fifth mark, but at present Liem finds himself far more interested in the urgent breaths he'd pulled from his husband, and the animal longing he'd glimpsed in his expression. He wants more of both, to remember properly whenever he glimpses one of the bruises stamped onto Cardan's skin. Even though his fondness for teasing is not nearly as transient as his spouse might naively believe, tonight, at this moment, what he wants most of all is Cardan's desire.

Though he doesn't really need to choose between the two. Not when he can return to his indulgent exploration of his husband's cock, mapping it with languid kisses and the obscene slide of his tongue, even as his damp, saliva-slicked fingers slide with lazy deliberation over the head.]

One of my many outstanding qualities, [ Cardan agrees, with not an ounce of self-consciousness. And why shouldn’t he? Of all the flaws he’d cultivated under Balekin’s care, arrogance has proven among the most fruitful.

And he can use a little arrogance now, when Liem returns full attention to his cock. It’s what he’d wanted — but he had not imagined that the lazy, deliberate drag of Liem’s tongue would provoke him quite like this. Lust flares hotly under his skin; something about Liem’s unhurried manner, about the leisurely slide of his mouth over Cardan’s skin makes him feel alight with it, unable to think of anything else. Liem will easily get his quick, urgent breaths, his hammering pulse — the caught way Cardan looks at him, as if he could not look away even if he’d wanted to.

Cardan is very bad at waiting. He’s especially bad at it during a times like these, when he has little to do with his hands — even burying his fingers in Liem’s hair is a challenge, thwarted as he is by his own gift of flowers. He wants to touch his husband— wants to hold him, to press himself against him and take control, the way he always has. The fact he cannot is making him a little insane. ]

Liem, [ he sighs, just to say it, though even that is shot through with longing. His restless fingers trail along his husband’s jaw, the side of his neck, aimless in their journey. ]

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