[Even while buried beneath the weight of endless work and barely any sleep, Liem can only linger in the warm fog of his dreaming for so long. The careful transit of heated kisses over his body, the brush of warm fingertips—they tease at his longing just as surely as they inflame his need. He has been missing his husband’s touch for the better part of the last ten days, and now, he has it. No dream could hold him in the face of this irresistible reality.
He does not rouse all at once. Like the others, the kiss pressed against his chest simply brushes the edges of the fog, pulling a soft, pleased sigh from him. The heat of Cardan’s mouth on his hip reaches through, though his half-formed awareness does nothing to restrain his restless shifting as eagerness pulses straight to his cock. For a soft and muzzy stretch of moments, sleep and wakefulness tangle together so he cannot discern what is real and what has simply followed him out of the hungrier corners of his dreams.
But the slick stroke of Cardan’s fingers against his entrance and the slide of his mouth over his cock demand his attention, even if only to drag a moan from his throat. As he begins to regain the capacity for complex thought, he is confronted with the realization that he is not only awake, but desperately horny, and in the midst of being preyed upon by his spouse.]
Mnh, Cardan—
[He cannot be anything but breathlessly wanting, despite his disorientation. Groggily, he tips his head so he can peer down at his husband.]
The grin Cardan aims up at Liem is radiant with mischief. His eyes reflect the sparse light like a cat's; under the sheets he's still half-buried in, his tail curls in pleased loops. He is delighted at being caught, delighted at the way his name sounds on Liem's lips, delighted at his husband's sleepy, puzzled expression, at the way desire seems to have wrapped itself around him even so.
But he is greedy for more. More of that unguarded need, more of Liem's voice, more of his taste and the feel of him. He mouths at the tip of Liem's cock, deliberately light about the kisses he leaves there, more hot breath and symbolism than touch. The hand between Liem's thighs is no less committed to teasing; slick fingertips rub against him, leisurely, indulgently, as if Cardan is not already desperate for him. As if he hadn't been desperate for days now.
But it doesn't matter if Cardan is desperate, so long as Liem is -- so long as Liem wants him back, so long as he's Cardan's to have and to desire. That Liem happens to desire him so groggily -- with sleep hiding in his mussed hair and in the heavy drop of his lashes -- only adds a charming air to the whole endeavour. ]
[Even while Liem is confused and still half-asleep, delight blooms ruthlessly in his chest at the smile his husband levels at him from his position between his legs. The reality of waking up to find him there overwrites every other concern he’d been holding in his mind, for one tempting moment narrowing the world to just the two of them, stretched out in their bed and painted with the light of the dying fire in the hearth.
It’s astonishing he hasn’t woken up this way before. It’s astonishing he’s never roused his husband thus. It seems like hunger should have driven one of them to such indulgence long before now. Certainly he makes no effort to object as Cardan continues to tease him, his leisurely touch keeping Liem rapt with hungry anticipation.
But he recalls, belatedly, why they have not touched recently, and why his tiredness weighs on him so heavily despite the excitement his husband’s caress demands. This time when he speaks, his murmur breathless with desire and still rough with sleep, there is a hunt of reproof in his tone.]
[ The lingering roughness in Liem's voice is hypnotically attractive; if nothing else, Cardan wants him to keep talking because of the way it sends a pang of keen need through his veins. But then, he always wants Liem to keep talking, just as he always craves those vulnerable, unpolished parts of him, like treasures that only Cardan is privy to.
Still, Cardan will pause to consider him in the orange light of the fire, as if he truly needed to think in order to answer the question. His free hand finds its way to Liem's knee, urging him to bend it so that Cardan may brush his mouth, thoughtfully, against the inside of Liem's thigh. ]
I could not be more serious.
[ And since he no longer needs to hold back from biting, that's what he does, marking the tender skin before running his tongue over the bruise. He is smug about this, too. ]
[Liem considers a healthy dose of suspicion to be eminently reasonable for him to have, considering the nature of the man he’s married. Much as he trusts his husband—more than he ever thought he would when they were first wedded—one of the things he trusts Cardan to cleave to most is his desire to amuse himself at the expense of Liem’s plans. On this particular occasion, the primary victim appears to be his plan to catch a few hours of sleep between nearly double-length work nights.
But maintaining any kind of reservations becomes difficult when Cardan coaxes his leg up—and Liem bends it obligingly, even now—to brush warm lips against the tender skin of his inner thigh. The bite sends lust pulsing straight to his cock; his breath turns heavy with it, interrupting any rebuttal he might have followed up with a soft groan instead.
He’s not sure whether this is meant to be a punishment or a temptation. Maybe it’s both. By the time he decides on an answer, he’ll certainly be in too deep for it to matter regardless.]
You know I am.
[His fingers find the side of Cardan’s face, skimming one angular cheekbone and then the slant of his ear.]
[ He forever craves this: the pliant way Liem moves for him, even when he's trying to be cross -- the sound of that groan, sweet to Cardan's ears, and still enough to make his pulse speed with hungry, terrible need. He doesn't want to wait, not even to tease; the slick fingers between Liem's thighs shift to press inside him, insistent.
That makes his pulse speed, too. His gaze on Liem is intent. ]
What other time have you left me?
[ His face leans into the caress of Liem's cool hand, unable to resist. Somehow this has become dear to him, too -- particularly in light of the tense hour they had spent arguing after Cardan's fit, when Liem had not touched him at all. ]
Should I accost you during your meetings? When you're busy signing correspondence?
[ It's difficult not to imagine it, given the activity he's currently engaged in. His other hand wraps lazily around Liem's cock, stroking in an indulgent, unhurried rhythm. He will rest his temple against Liem's thigh.
The smile growing on his face is thoroughly predatory. ]
[Paying proper attention to the threat that his husband’s words present becomes increasingly difficult as Cardan continues his campaign of distraction. A week and a half is not so long to go without touch, all things considered, and yet Liem already feels so starved for it that he cannot focus on anything else. He is so hungry for the press of those long fingers inside him, for the lazy stroke of Cardan’s hand over his erection—even for the gentle lean of his head against his thigh.
This makes assessing the danger his husband poses to his productivity rather difficult.]
Hh… ah…
[Pleasure curls insistently up his spine, making him squirm a little against the sheets. It is so unfair of Cardan to ask him anything while his thoughts are entirely full of want for him, of his hands and his mouth and his cock. Of course he doesn’t care about desk work while Cardan is busy teasing hungry, restless breaths from his throat. He doesn’t even care about getting back to sleep. He doesn’t care about anything but letting Cardan keep touching him, for as long as he might want.
Sighing, he lets his head fall back against the bed, his eyes slipping closed again.]
Let’s not get carried away…
[He won’t deny that he would like it, on some level—but obviously Cardan doesn’t need any more encouragement to accost him when he’s not expecting it.]
[ He laughs at Liem's protest -- which sounds half-hearted to Cardan, but then he himself is just as distracted. How could he not be, when Liem's reaction is so immediate, when those soft moans are so at odds with the consuming, howling need he kindles inside Cardan?
It is unreasonable. It has always been unreasonable, from the very beginning. He doesn't care, and he doesn't stop -- but he moves, sliding up Liem's body until he can, once again, take his lover's mouth for his own. He wonders how he ever went without this at all. ]
No, [ he will murmur, when he separates some time later. Though who could call it a separation, when he breathes his refusal against Liem's lips? ]
As I told you--
[ He had held on to his composure for ten long nights, and then further still. But now that he has trapped Liem under him, now that he's working him open and pliant for his cock, feeling that familiar, silken grip of his body once more-- Cardan can feel his need spiraling out of control more rapidly than he'd anticipated.
How is it possible to miss someone when sleeping wrapped around them every night?
And still, and still. His own erection presses up against Liem's hip, and he can't quite help the way he has to move against him, grinding, swallowing the plaintive little whine that threatens to escape him. Everything feels hypersensitized; every touch makes sparks of pleasure shiver through him, as if by strange magic.
He already sounds breathless, but there is no helping that. ]
[Somehow, his husband manages to deliver both torment and succour with the same touch. Liem’s nerves are all alight with want for him, making each unhurried stroke of his fingers a balm to his loneliness even as it inflames his need. As pleasure shivers up his spine, he sinks back against the sheets and wishes ardently that he could spend the entire night trapped in bed with Cardan, just like this.
When Cardan moves up his body to capture his mouth with his own, Liem’s arms come possessively around him, their hold sleepy but implacable. The languor in his movements does not at all prevent him from seeking Cardan’s kiss with single-minded hunger.
An eager hum escapes him when Cardan grinds against his hips. Pressing a kiss against the corner of his mouth, Liem slides one hand down to cup his ass, encouraging him to repeat the motion.]
You so love to test me, [he breathes against his jaw, brushing his lips over it.] How I’ve missed your bullying.
[ It's the smallest, strangest things -- like when Liem takes him in his arms, and need pangs through Cardan with painful ferocity. His husband is exhausted; he knows full well just how little rest Liem has had in the past week and a half. A caring spouse might have been tempted to let him rest, to save his own desires for when they're both at their best.
But Cardan is too greedy a man not to want this. At the end of a long night full of endless work, when Liem is tired to the bone, too weary to keep his eyes open, Cardan still wants him to desire this. He wants Liem to press close and wrap around him, to be overburdened with endless, dizzying lust. He wants Liem's exhaustion and his frustration and the tightness that makes its home around his eyes when his carefully laid plans are going awry -- he wants to have these things just as he wants everything else, always, no matter how unreasonable.
This is probably quite awful of him.
Still, when Liem urges him to keep moving, he shivers with the pleasure of it. The tail brushes Liem's knuckles as it coils; Cardan ruts against him, shamelessly indulgent, his sighs heavy with need. He doubts Liem will drink from him now -- but still he tips his face just enough to offer his throat with its hammering pulse, and curls his fingers just so inside of him, intent on driving home the tease. ]
Are you certain... [ He has to catch his breath, just a little bit. ] ...that you won't regret nursing me back to health?
[For some reason, Liem hadn’t anticipated that a result of returning his husband to good health would be Cardan keeping him from sleep to fuck him through his exhaustion. This isn’t the first time his spouse has engaged in similar mischief, and he doubts it will be the last, but still the familiar thrum of lust buzzing insistently just beneath the fog of his fatigue comes as a surprise.
And, perversely, a delight as well. For all that he had tried to keep his thoughts focused on necessary things over the past several days, the indulgence of feeling Cardan move against him again rocks Liem with bliss that rivals the even sweetest blood high. He has missed this terribly. He’s missed him.
The curl of Cardan’s fingers coaxes a whine from his throat, muffled against the warm stretch of neck just beneath his jaw. His reply is breathlessly wanting.]
Very certain.
[His lips murmur against Cardan’s racing pulse, cool and curious as they skim over it. He is sure his husband wishes on some level to tempt him with this, too, to tease him since he refuses to bite Cardan without the doctor’s approval—but Liem has been bereft of the chance to kiss his husband for far too much of the past couple weeks. He is indulgent in painting hungry kisses over Cardan’s throat, punctuated with the gentle scrape of teeth and the languid swipe of his tongue over his pulse.]
[ He expects Liem to avoid biting him -- expects him to tease Cardan with the tantalizing scrape of sharp teeth, with his ardent kisses. What he never anticipates is the vicious, breathtaking longing Liem's mouth provokes in him. Even when he has him, even when his lover is right here in his arms, when Cardan is all over him-- it is not enough. It will never be enough.
It recalls to him what Liem had said about blood, that very first time. ]
Liem--
[ He shivers, hard -- but keeps moving anyway, unable to resist the delicious friction of it, the lure of feeling Liem against him after what feels like forever. They have touched every day since Cardan has been instructed to rest -- but not like this. Not with Liem under him; not with Cardan working him open, having to bide his patience after all the time they had spent not fucking.
He's so hard already; he's not going to last. He can only hope that Liem is right there with him, that he'll follow him off the edge as faithfully as he ever has. ]
Your mouth, [ he will tell Liem, breathlessly, turning his head to brush a kiss to the gentle point of his lover's ear, ] is my boon and my curse.
[Liem’s wanting had not disappeared during the long nights he’d spent working his way through various business matters, or during the short days he’d wrapped his fatigued limbs around Cardan and fallen into dreamless slumber. Of course not. It had plagued him quietly: a dull ache low in his chest, a tickle at the back of his mind, ever present.
But it had not been like this. He cannot imagine now, with Cardan’s breath warming his ear and his body moving against him, how he could possibly drag himself away for any reason, no matter how necessary. How will he pull himself again from his husband’s embrace to return to his duties when the sun begins to sink towards the horizon? Even if he must, for Cardan’s sake as well as his own, he cannot bring himself to care about anything but the terrible, bone-deep relief that Cardan’s ardent attention brings him. He feels senseless with it, even as lust makes him shiver and sigh and ache beneath the indulgent onslaught of his husband’s touch.
And still, despite his hunger, there is one thing he will not do.]
As long as I must.
[Perhaps it is unfair of him to trust any human, no matter how experienced with medicine, to know better than his faerie husband when he has fully recovered. And yet, what else is he supposed to do when Cardan clearly wants his bite so keenly, and has so little care for the state of is own person? Liem is the same way, after all; he well knows the temptation of judging his condition “good enough” to continue on as normal.
He doesn’t want Cardan to feel good enough. He wants him to feel well.]
[ He's not surprised by the answer, but even so it pulls a frustrated huff from him. This time, when he bites down on Liem's earlobe, it is most definitely punitive, ineffective as he knows the gesture to be. It's just that he's never been able to stop himself from wanting Liem, even at his most annoyed. ]
You, [ he growls, in between sharp nips down the line of his lover's throat, ] are stubborn as an ancient goat. I am the most flush with blood I have ever been. Any more, and I am liable to explode.
[ He pulls his digits out -- only so he can grasp Liem's hips properly in both his hands. The heavy, slow grind of his hips is as pointed as the dark glare he directs Liem's way. ]
Surely you can tell.
[ If not by Cardan's amazingly hard erection, then maybe by the fact he is warm now, all the time, from his hands to the tips of his ears. Or by the vigour with which his heart beats in his chest anytime he is angry or excited or horny -- frequent occurrences of late, and especially around Liem.
Or by the fact that Cardan is telling him, and cannot lie.
It's probably not going to work. They've retreaded this conversation many times -- and besides, despite his obvious irritation, he wants to fuck more than he wants to fight. But he cannot quite leave it alone, even now, and especially not when Liem has decided to use his fangs to tease him. ]
[If the sharp nip of Cardan’s teeth is meant to punctuate his irritation, the biting is having mixed results. Liem certainly notices, if the breathy little exclamation is anything to go by, though by the clutch of his fingers against Cardan’s back and the eager squirm of his hips, he is not feeling particularly punished. He is also struggling to devote the attention his husband might desire to his grievances, occupied as he is with the mean little nips travelling down his throat.
He would not go to such lengths and frustrate his husband for so many days just to encourage Cardan to be crueller with his attention—but it would be false to claim he doesn’t covet this side of him, too.
When Cardan shifts back to grip his hips, Liem flicks sleepy, lust-heavy eyes open to seek his face. He slides one cool hand around to his husband’s chest, caressing idle patterns over his heart.]
How am I to know if your health is as it should be?
[Have they not spent most of their marriage with Cardan in a state of regular bloodloss? Surely Liem cannot be expected to recall how warm his spouse was when they barely touched, or what the usual rhythms of his heart were at the end of summer when it is now mid-winter.
Obviously Liem cannot be trusted to make such judgments, or he would have insisted that something was amiss long before his husband fainted in the middle of getting up from his couch.]
[ He bites back a hiss at the greedy grasp of Liem's hands over his back; he cannot bite back the goosebumps that spread across his skin, the little shivers of pleasure that take him anytime Liem reaches for him like this. And if the gentle hand over his heart quickens a strange ache in it, then he pays it no mind -- he's too preoccupied with his need, with the languid exhaustion in Liem's heavy-lidded gaze.
Cardan's raised eyebrows are exaggeratedly dramatic. ]
Because I am telling you, and your continued doubt is hurtful.
[ The message is, perhaps, not very underscored by the fact he leans in to kiss the tip of Liem's nose... and then straightens, rising up on his knees. His smile is a little cruel. ]
...but very well. Shall I keep doing this each day, until you have no choice but to concede?
[ He would. He will. Liem knows well his spite and his selfishness; surely this behaviour is only expected. For a moment, Cardan only eyes him, notes the exhaustion around his eyes and the length of his lashes, the disarray of his clothes and the arousal that perseveres, still, even now. Cardan wants that -- wants Liem to desire him even when it's difficult and unwise and irrational, when it's out of order with Liem's neat plans for his nights and his days. And so, and so--
The hands on Liem's hips tighten, and then relax. ]
Turn over, would you?
[ Well, if he would be selfish, then he might as well go all the way. ]
[Liem is not nearly awake enough to field the mixed messages his husband is sending him, through his impatient words and arched brows and light, affectionate kiss. If this is one of those situations where his husband is throwing up a smoke screen to disguise his personal feelings, Liem’s present exhaustion is making the ploy particularly effective. In the middle of sex is always a challenging time for him to attempt to focus on anything else, regardless; even as an intent frown muddles its way onto his face, he remains urgently aware of the predatory eyes assessing him and the warm hands on his hips.
How could he spare a single thought for his rapidly deteriorating sleep schedule when he is so ruled by this incessant longing?]
I am not the one you need to convince, [he insists as he regards the menace he wedded. Despite his fluttering breaths and his aching cock, his body rebels at the idea of dragging himself up to oblige his mercurial spouse. A drowsy fuck in the middle of the day should not involve this much repositioning.
And yet, he pushes himself upright with a sigh, gathering his limbs so he can turn himself over without an unplanned tangling of legs. At least he can please himself while he does so; as he sits up, his hand snakes around the back of Cardan’s neck so he can steal another kiss from him. He may as well, if he’s about to be facing the other direction.
Only then will he do as Cardan has asked, and flip over so his husband can continue to have his way.]
[ If he feels a pang of remorse when Liem forces himself upright with obvious weariness, when he still takes the opportunity to steal a kiss from Cardan’s lips even so — well, there’s nothing for it. The intimate, insidious lust that floods him at the sight of his husband ass-up and offering himself would trump most of his considerate impulses, even if he weren’t already in a vengeful mood. Since he is, all he does is fit his hands over Liem’s hips once more, urging them to lift as Cardan moves to press against his back, covering him with the heat of his own body.
Liem might be bereft of the ability to kiss him, but Cardan certainly isn’t. His mouth presses to Liem’s neck, his shoulder; Cardan’s fingers wrap around him to tease his hard cock even as his own presses up against Liem, foreboding. ]
Then I suppose your torment is simply at my whim, [ he murmurs against Liem’s nape, sounding smug rather than sorry. And when the same cruel hand slides his lover’s thighs apart so Cardan can press inside him in one long stroke, he cannot bring himself to feel any regret at all. He only wants, keenly and endlessly, aflame with urgent need after waiting what feels like several eternities. There is no hiding his abrupt, ragged breath in, nor the way his hand fists in the sheets as he pauses to collect himself. In some way, Liem was right: surely the heartbeat pressed up against his back is truly frantic now, for all that Cardan feels no dizziness — only fever-hot, consuming hunger.
[Liem can think of far worse fates than to be tormented at his husband’s whim, whether it be for an hour or two, or again and again over the course of days. He cannot resist the seductive pull of it; he cannot think of a time, even from the very first, when Cardan’s demands didn’t make desire shiver beneath his skin, or when the weight of his husband’s body against his didn’t make all other thoughts flee from his head, however briefly.
It is the same now: the pliant way he shifts at the coaxing of Cardan’s hands; the soft, wanting breath that sighs from him as Cardan’s heated kisses wander his skin; the familiar, hungry eagerness that flares in his belly at the provocative stroke of warm fingers and the press of Cardan against him. He wants all of it, has to suppress his own impatience for more—though he cannot entirely smother the needy whine that slips out when his husband teases his desperately-hard cock. It has just been far too long already since he let his husband touch him; all of the wanting that he’d been denying for nights on end now seems to spill from him all at once.]
Always, [he breathes, and then swallows a moan as Cardan fucks into him. He is now, as ever, Cardan’s to do with as he pleases—because Liem cannot, regardless of his efforts, deny the helpless bliss of being desired. And the feverish heat with which his husband desires him is blissful indeed to weather, even if it is a torment.] Cardan…
[ He feels desperate with desire. The stretch of Liem's lithe body beneath his own, the way Cardan can feel every sigh and tremble, can press close and closer still -- it's so perfect that it should rightly distress him. He breathes in the delicate scent of Liem's shampoo and feels a strange, incongruent ache settle behind his ribs.
His arm wraps around his lover; he wants to leave no distance at all between them. He wants to never let him leave the bed nor Cardan's embrace, never be claimed by frivolities like parties or work or even plotting to save both their lives. ]
Always, [ he agrees, his voice rough as his mouth moves against the shell of Liem's ear. There is a thrill in having him exposed to Cardan's voice, to his mouth and his teeth, vulnerable to his desires even here. A thrill, too, in how he knows that Liem will hear his breath stutter with need when he moves, fucking back into him with insistent tenderness. ]
I shall give you no-- hah-- no peace from me, Liem Talbott. Not until you beg me to cease.
[ Wild, untamable affection mingles in his chest with a strangely painful need. Liem's scent, the sound of his voice, even his fussiness about keeping Cardan healthy -- he wants to cradle those things to him like treasures, to curl atop them like a dragon with a hoard. There is a moment of clarity: he recognizes the feeling, and feels a shard of terror slice through him.
But that, too, is swept away by raw need. His palm presses against Liem's chest, smooths down his stomach to wrap around his cock again, urgent. He is so pliant and eager under Cardan's hands; how could he not crave this, always? ]
[Something about Cardan’s presence behind him always seems to make Liem especially sensitive to touch: to the tease of Cardan’s mouth and the press of his body and the deliberate wandering of his hands. His wanting seems heightened with his husband fitted against his back like this, his arm wrapped around him and his lips brushing his ear. Liem cannot help but arch against him, greedy for the feel of his lover pressed close.
Always he wants to feel more: to feel not just desired, not just coveted, but possessed. He wants the unsteady cadence of Cardan’s breaths as he fucks him, and the wild beating of Cardan’s heart thumping against him, and the greedy clasp of his arm keeping him close. He wants his menace and his obsession. He cannot stop wanting.
He can only tremble at the deliberate transit of the hand down his body, and then moan in earnest this time as Cardan once again wraps insistent fingers around his cock.]
Ah— Why… [Even when he tips his head, he cannot really see his husband—but he’s compelled to try nonetheless.] Why would I wish for that?
[ Cardan’s breathless laugh breaks against Liem’s shoulder. He wishes he had more hands, that he didn’t need to brace himself against the bed— he wants to curl greedy fingers over Liem’s jaw, his throat, awful with possessive need. He wants more of Liem’s moans, wants to drive him a little insane — because Cardan clearly already is. ]
You are indomitable. Wherever did I find you?
[ It occurs to him, not for the first time, that no one would ever have wed them, had they known how well the union would work. He cannot recall a time when he had worked so hard for someone’s pleasure and been so glad of the labour.
He does not bother with subtlety; he can’t, not with the way his own need has set every nerve in his body on fire, not with the tight grip of Liem’s body making him feel like he’s losing his mind. His mouth smears over his lover’s shoulder, the crook of his neck. The grip of his hand is tight, moving in time with each indulgent stroke of his hips, and with each one his pleasure closes in, relentless and inescapable. ]
My dearest victim—
[ His, his alone to torment and tease and trouble and soothe, too, when his cruelties have run their course. He cannot care if he deserves Liem, cannot be unselfish about this even a little bit.
He doesn’t want to stop. He doesn’t want it to end—
His teeth sink into Liem’s shoulder, and he cannot help that either. ]
[Maybe Liem’s eyelids are heavy with his exhaustion, and maybe it is cruel of Cardan to demand his desire when sleep is still clinging to him so jealously, but regardless of the demands his lover makes of him, Liem cannot help but want to meet them all. He doesn’t feel indomitable so much as insatiable; the only thing propping him up in the face of Cardan’s cruelties is his own hunger.
It blooms hot and insistent beneath his skin in the wake of each kiss; rolls through him with every thrust of Cardan’s hips and every stroke of his hand. The low rumble of his husband’s voice in his ear only makes the longing building inside him wilder, until he’s not sure how he can bear it any longer.]
Yours, [he gasps, and clutches at the sheets as he tries not to squirm into his husband’s touch. The feeling that awakens in his chest at being called Cardan’s dearest anything is rabid, insensate with need. Frustration adds the edge of a whine to his breaths as he teeters on the edge of it, unprepared; then Cardan’s teeth clamp down on his shoulder, and his hips buck fruitlessly against him as a hot pulse of pleasure races down his spine, shoving him up to the edge and over.]
[ He's desperate to hold on, to draw this out longer, because it can't be enough-- it can't possibly be enough. He wants to hold his husband down and fuck him for hours; he wants to hear Liem tell him he's Cardan's again and again and again. But Liem's orgasm rocks through him, and when his hips buck, Cardan moans, helpless against his own feverish pleasure. He doesn't stop. He cannot stop. His hand on Liem keeps stroking; Cardan moves in him, still, hard merciless thrusts, chasing that endless pleasure for just a breath and a heartbeat longer, unwilling to let go. ]
Liem-- [ His eyes are shut; he breathes it against his lover's skin, a prayer against his desperation and his endless greed. ] Fuck, Liem--
[ And then he's there, and he's trembling through it, his arm coiling around Liem like a vice as he does.
It takes him some time to catch his breath and regain his faculties in the aftermath. Stubborn affection curls up in his chest even so. His fingers stroke idly down Liem's flank, indulgent in the pleasure of touching him, even if Cardan is already plastered against him as is. ]
Next time someone tells me we oughtn't be fucking, [ he informs Liem, quite reasonably, without bothering to open his eyes, ] I am simply going to ignore them.
[For a very long moment, the storm of twinned pleasure and need pushes every thought out of Liem’s head, leaving him gasping in the throes of his climax. His world becomes nothing but keen spikes of sensation, the thundering of Cardan’s heart, and the heat of his breath against Liem’s skin—and in that world, Cardan is unmistakably king.
Though even as the urgent waves of pleasure begin to recede and Liem begins to recall the existence of other matters, the man wrapped around him becomes no less precious.
Even now, there is still nothing he wants more than to be tangled up in his husband’s embrace, painting his skin with drowsy kisses in defiance of the sun still ruling the landscape outside. He wants to stay that way until he has reacquainted himself with all the pleasures he’s been denying himself since the doctor conducted her examination over a week ago. That the world will not stop turning to accommodate this seems hugely unfair.
Of late, he seems to have more and more desire, and less and less time in which to fulfill any of it.]
That person is almost certainly bound to be me, [he observes. He’s reminded of his husband’s suggestion that he might accost him in the middle of his work. This seems like a prime opportunity for that kind of statement to him, though Liem suspects he ends up actually objecting to Cardan’s nonsense far less than he actually ought to.]
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He does not rouse all at once. Like the others, the kiss pressed against his chest simply brushes the edges of the fog, pulling a soft, pleased sigh from him. The heat of Cardan’s mouth on his hip reaches through, though his half-formed awareness does nothing to restrain his restless shifting as eagerness pulses straight to his cock. For a soft and muzzy stretch of moments, sleep and wakefulness tangle together so he cannot discern what is real and what has simply followed him out of the hungrier corners of his dreams.
But the slick stroke of Cardan’s fingers against his entrance and the slide of his mouth over his cock demand his attention, even if only to drag a moan from his throat. As he begins to regain the capacity for complex thought, he is confronted with the realization that he is not only awake, but desperately horny, and in the midst of being preyed upon by his spouse.]
Mnh, Cardan—
[He cannot be anything but breathlessly wanting, despite his disorientation. Groggily, he tips his head so he can peer down at his husband.]
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The grin Cardan aims up at Liem is radiant with mischief. His eyes reflect the sparse light like a cat's; under the sheets he's still half-buried in, his tail curls in pleased loops. He is delighted at being caught, delighted at the way his name sounds on Liem's lips, delighted at his husband's sleepy, puzzled expression, at the way desire seems to have wrapped itself around him even so.
But he is greedy for more. More of that unguarded need, more of Liem's voice, more of his taste and the feel of him. He mouths at the tip of Liem's cock, deliberately light about the kisses he leaves there, more hot breath and symbolism than touch. The hand between Liem's thighs is no less committed to teasing; slick fingertips rub against him, leisurely, indulgently, as if Cardan is not already desperate for him. As if he hadn't been desperate for days now.
But it doesn't matter if Cardan is desperate, so long as Liem is -- so long as Liem wants him back, so long as he's Cardan's to have and to desire. That Liem happens to desire him so groggily -- with sleep hiding in his mussed hair and in the heavy drop of his lashes -- only adds a charming air to the whole endeavour. ]
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It’s astonishing he hasn’t woken up this way before. It’s astonishing he’s never roused his husband thus. It seems like hunger should have driven one of them to such indulgence long before now. Certainly he makes no effort to object as Cardan continues to tease him, his leisurely touch keeping Liem rapt with hungry anticipation.
But he recalls, belatedly, why they have not touched recently, and why his tiredness weighs on him so heavily despite the excitement his husband’s caress demands. This time when he speaks, his murmur breathless with desire and still rough with sleep, there is a hunt of reproof in his tone.]
What game are you playing, husband—?
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[ The lingering roughness in Liem's voice is hypnotically attractive; if nothing else, Cardan wants him to keep talking because of the way it sends a pang of keen need through his veins. But then, he always wants Liem to keep talking, just as he always craves those vulnerable, unpolished parts of him, like treasures that only Cardan is privy to.
Still, Cardan will pause to consider him in the orange light of the fire, as if he truly needed to think in order to answer the question. His free hand finds its way to Liem's knee, urging him to bend it so that Cardan may brush his mouth, thoughtfully, against the inside of Liem's thigh. ]
I could not be more serious.
[ And since he no longer needs to hold back from biting, that's what he does, marking the tender skin before running his tongue over the bruise. He is smug about this, too. ]
Are you not mine to desire, Liem?
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But maintaining any kind of reservations becomes difficult when Cardan coaxes his leg up—and Liem bends it obligingly, even now—to brush warm lips against the tender skin of his inner thigh. The bite sends lust pulsing straight to his cock; his breath turns heavy with it, interrupting any rebuttal he might have followed up with a soft groan instead.
He’s not sure whether this is meant to be a punishment or a temptation. Maybe it’s both. By the time he decides on an answer, he’ll certainly be in too deep for it to matter regardless.]
You know I am.
[His fingers find the side of Cardan’s face, skimming one angular cheekbone and then the slant of his ear.]
Even in the middle of the day, apparently.
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That makes his pulse speed, too. His gaze on Liem is intent. ]
What other time have you left me?
[ His face leans into the caress of Liem's cool hand, unable to resist. Somehow this has become dear to him, too -- particularly in light of the tense hour they had spent arguing after Cardan's fit, when Liem had not touched him at all. ]
Should I accost you during your meetings? When you're busy signing correspondence?
[ It's difficult not to imagine it, given the activity he's currently engaged in. His other hand wraps lazily around Liem's cock, stroking in an indulgent, unhurried rhythm. He will rest his temple against Liem's thigh.
The smile growing on his face is thoroughly predatory. ]
But perhaps you would like that.
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This makes assessing the danger his husband poses to his productivity rather difficult.]
Hh… ah…
[Pleasure curls insistently up his spine, making him squirm a little against the sheets. It is so unfair of Cardan to ask him anything while his thoughts are entirely full of want for him, of his hands and his mouth and his cock. Of course he doesn’t care about desk work while Cardan is busy teasing hungry, restless breaths from his throat. He doesn’t even care about getting back to sleep. He doesn’t care about anything but letting Cardan keep touching him, for as long as he might want.
Sighing, he lets his head fall back against the bed, his eyes slipping closed again.]
Let’s not get carried away…
[He won’t deny that he would like it, on some level—but obviously Cardan doesn’t need any more encouragement to accost him when he’s not expecting it.]
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It is unreasonable. It has always been unreasonable, from the very beginning. He doesn't care, and he doesn't stop -- but he moves, sliding up Liem's body until he can, once again, take his lover's mouth for his own. He wonders how he ever went without this at all. ]
No, [ he will murmur, when he separates some time later. Though who could call it a separation, when he breathes his refusal against Liem's lips? ]
As I told you--
[ He had held on to his composure for ten long nights, and then further still. But now that he has trapped Liem under him, now that he's working him open and pliant for his cock, feeling that familiar, silken grip of his body once more-- Cardan can feel his need spiraling out of control more rapidly than he'd anticipated.
How is it possible to miss someone when sleeping wrapped around them every night?
And still, and still. His own erection presses up against Liem's hip, and he can't quite help the way he has to move against him, grinding, swallowing the plaintive little whine that threatens to escape him. Everything feels hypersensitized; every touch makes sparks of pleasure shiver through him, as if by strange magic.
He already sounds breathless, but there is no helping that. ]
The restraint will ever be yours, Liem.
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When Cardan moves up his body to capture his mouth with his own, Liem’s arms come possessively around him, their hold sleepy but implacable. The languor in his movements does not at all prevent him from seeking Cardan’s kiss with single-minded hunger.
An eager hum escapes him when Cardan grinds against his hips. Pressing a kiss against the corner of his mouth, Liem slides one hand down to cup his ass, encouraging him to repeat the motion.]
You so love to test me, [he breathes against his jaw, brushing his lips over it.] How I’ve missed your bullying.
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But Cardan is too greedy a man not to want this. At the end of a long night full of endless work, when Liem is tired to the bone, too weary to keep his eyes open, Cardan still wants him to desire this. He wants Liem to press close and wrap around him, to be overburdened with endless, dizzying lust. He wants Liem's exhaustion and his frustration and the tightness that makes its home around his eyes when his carefully laid plans are going awry -- he wants to have these things just as he wants everything else, always, no matter how unreasonable.
This is probably quite awful of him.
Still, when Liem urges him to keep moving, he shivers with the pleasure of it. The tail brushes Liem's knuckles as it coils; Cardan ruts against him, shamelessly indulgent, his sighs heavy with need. He doubts Liem will drink from him now -- but still he tips his face just enough to offer his throat with its hammering pulse, and curls his fingers just so inside of him, intent on driving home the tease. ]
Are you certain... [ He has to catch his breath, just a little bit. ] ...that you won't regret nursing me back to health?
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And, perversely, a delight as well. For all that he had tried to keep his thoughts focused on necessary things over the past several days, the indulgence of feeling Cardan move against him again rocks Liem with bliss that rivals the even sweetest blood high. He has missed this terribly. He’s missed him.
The curl of Cardan’s fingers coaxes a whine from his throat, muffled against the warm stretch of neck just beneath his jaw. His reply is breathlessly wanting.]
Very certain.
[His lips murmur against Cardan’s racing pulse, cool and curious as they skim over it. He is sure his husband wishes on some level to tempt him with this, too, to tease him since he refuses to bite Cardan without the doctor’s approval—but Liem has been bereft of the chance to kiss his husband for far too much of the past couple weeks. He is indulgent in painting hungry kisses over Cardan’s throat, punctuated with the gentle scrape of teeth and the languid swipe of his tongue over his pulse.]
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It recalls to him what Liem had said about blood, that very first time. ]
Liem--
[ He shivers, hard -- but keeps moving anyway, unable to resist the delicious friction of it, the lure of feeling Liem against him after what feels like forever. They have touched every day since Cardan has been instructed to rest -- but not like this. Not with Liem under him; not with Cardan working him open, having to bide his patience after all the time they had spent not fucking.
He's so hard already; he's not going to last. He can only hope that Liem is right there with him, that he'll follow him off the edge as faithfully as he ever has. ]
Your mouth, [ he will tell Liem, breathlessly, turning his head to brush a kiss to the gentle point of his lover's ear, ] is my boon and my curse.
How long are you planning on denying us both?
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But it had not been like this. He cannot imagine now, with Cardan’s breath warming his ear and his body moving against him, how he could possibly drag himself away for any reason, no matter how necessary. How will he pull himself again from his husband’s embrace to return to his duties when the sun begins to sink towards the horizon? Even if he must, for Cardan’s sake as well as his own, he cannot bring himself to care about anything but the terrible, bone-deep relief that Cardan’s ardent attention brings him. He feels senseless with it, even as lust makes him shiver and sigh and ache beneath the indulgent onslaught of his husband’s touch.
And still, despite his hunger, there is one thing he will not do.]
As long as I must.
[Perhaps it is unfair of him to trust any human, no matter how experienced with medicine, to know better than his faerie husband when he has fully recovered. And yet, what else is he supposed to do when Cardan clearly wants his bite so keenly, and has so little care for the state of is own person? Liem is the same way, after all; he well knows the temptation of judging his condition “good enough” to continue on as normal.
He doesn’t want Cardan to feel good enough. He wants him to feel well.]
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You, [ he growls, in between sharp nips down the line of his lover's throat, ] are stubborn as an ancient goat. I am the most flush with blood I have ever been. Any more, and I am liable to explode.
[ He pulls his digits out -- only so he can grasp Liem's hips properly in both his hands. The heavy, slow grind of his hips is as pointed as the dark glare he directs Liem's way. ]
Surely you can tell.
[ If not by Cardan's amazingly hard erection, then maybe by the fact he is warm now, all the time, from his hands to the tips of his ears. Or by the vigour with which his heart beats in his chest anytime he is angry or excited or horny -- frequent occurrences of late, and especially around Liem.
Or by the fact that Cardan is telling him, and cannot lie.
It's probably not going to work. They've retreaded this conversation many times -- and besides, despite his obvious irritation, he wants to fuck more than he wants to fight. But he cannot quite leave it alone, even now, and especially not when Liem has decided to use his fangs to tease him. ]
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He would not go to such lengths and frustrate his husband for so many days just to encourage Cardan to be crueller with his attention—but it would be false to claim he doesn’t covet this side of him, too.
When Cardan shifts back to grip his hips, Liem flicks sleepy, lust-heavy eyes open to seek his face. He slides one cool hand around to his husband’s chest, caressing idle patterns over his heart.]
How am I to know if your health is as it should be?
[Have they not spent most of their marriage with Cardan in a state of regular bloodloss? Surely Liem cannot be expected to recall how warm his spouse was when they barely touched, or what the usual rhythms of his heart were at the end of summer when it is now mid-winter.
Obviously Liem cannot be trusted to make such judgments, or he would have insisted that something was amiss long before his husband fainted in the middle of getting up from his couch.]
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Cardan's raised eyebrows are exaggeratedly dramatic. ]
Because I am telling you, and your continued doubt is hurtful.
[ The message is, perhaps, not very underscored by the fact he leans in to kiss the tip of Liem's nose... and then straightens, rising up on his knees. His smile is a little cruel. ]
...but very well. Shall I keep doing this each day, until you have no choice but to concede?
[ He would. He will. Liem knows well his spite and his selfishness; surely this behaviour is only expected. For a moment, Cardan only eyes him, notes the exhaustion around his eyes and the length of his lashes, the disarray of his clothes and the arousal that perseveres, still, even now. Cardan wants that -- wants Liem to desire him even when it's difficult and unwise and irrational, when it's out of order with Liem's neat plans for his nights and his days. And so, and so--
The hands on Liem's hips tighten, and then relax. ]
Turn over, would you?
[ Well, if he would be selfish, then he might as well go all the way. ]
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How could he spare a single thought for his rapidly deteriorating sleep schedule when he is so ruled by this incessant longing?]
I am not the one you need to convince, [he insists as he regards the menace he wedded. Despite his fluttering breaths and his aching cock, his body rebels at the idea of dragging himself up to oblige his mercurial spouse. A drowsy fuck in the middle of the day should not involve this much repositioning.
And yet, he pushes himself upright with a sigh, gathering his limbs so he can turn himself over without an unplanned tangling of legs. At least he can please himself while he does so; as he sits up, his hand snakes around the back of Cardan’s neck so he can steal another kiss from him. He may as well, if he’s about to be facing the other direction.
Only then will he do as Cardan has asked, and flip over so his husband can continue to have his way.]
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Liem might be bereft of the ability to kiss him, but Cardan certainly isn’t. His mouth presses to Liem’s neck, his shoulder; Cardan’s fingers wrap around him to tease his hard cock even as his own presses up against Liem, foreboding. ]
Then I suppose your torment is simply at my whim, [ he murmurs against Liem’s nape, sounding smug rather than sorry. And when the same cruel hand slides his lover’s thighs apart so Cardan can press inside him in one long stroke, he cannot bring himself to feel any regret at all. He only wants, keenly and endlessly, aflame with urgent need after waiting what feels like several eternities. There is no hiding his abrupt, ragged breath in, nor the way his hand fists in the sheets as he pauses to collect himself. In some way, Liem was right: surely the heartbeat pressed up against his back is truly frantic now, for all that Cardan feels no dizziness — only fever-hot, consuming hunger.
How he lived without this, he does not know. ]
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It is the same now: the pliant way he shifts at the coaxing of Cardan’s hands; the soft, wanting breath that sighs from him as Cardan’s heated kisses wander his skin; the familiar, hungry eagerness that flares in his belly at the provocative stroke of warm fingers and the press of Cardan against him. He wants all of it, has to suppress his own impatience for more—though he cannot entirely smother the needy whine that slips out when his husband teases his desperately-hard cock. It has just been far too long already since he let his husband touch him; all of the wanting that he’d been denying for nights on end now seems to spill from him all at once.]
Always, [he breathes, and then swallows a moan as Cardan fucks into him. He is now, as ever, Cardan’s to do with as he pleases—because Liem cannot, regardless of his efforts, deny the helpless bliss of being desired. And the feverish heat with which his husband desires him is blissful indeed to weather, even if it is a torment.] Cardan…
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His arm wraps around his lover; he wants to leave no distance at all between them. He wants to never let him leave the bed nor Cardan's embrace, never be claimed by frivolities like parties or work or even plotting to save both their lives. ]
Always, [ he agrees, his voice rough as his mouth moves against the shell of Liem's ear. There is a thrill in having him exposed to Cardan's voice, to his mouth and his teeth, vulnerable to his desires even here. A thrill, too, in how he knows that Liem will hear his breath stutter with need when he moves, fucking back into him with insistent tenderness. ]
I shall give you no-- hah-- no peace from me, Liem Talbott. Not until you beg me to cease.
[ Wild, untamable affection mingles in his chest with a strangely painful need. Liem's scent, the sound of his voice, even his fussiness about keeping Cardan healthy -- he wants to cradle those things to him like treasures, to curl atop them like a dragon with a hoard. There is a moment of clarity: he recognizes the feeling, and feels a shard of terror slice through him.
But that, too, is swept away by raw need. His palm presses against Liem's chest, smooths down his stomach to wrap around his cock again, urgent. He is so pliant and eager under Cardan's hands; how could he not crave this, always? ]
...perhaps not even then.
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Always he wants to feel more: to feel not just desired, not just coveted, but possessed. He wants the unsteady cadence of Cardan’s breaths as he fucks him, and the wild beating of Cardan’s heart thumping against him, and the greedy clasp of his arm keeping him close. He wants his menace and his obsession. He cannot stop wanting.
He can only tremble at the deliberate transit of the hand down his body, and then moan in earnest this time as Cardan once again wraps insistent fingers around his cock.]
Ah— Why… [Even when he tips his head, he cannot really see his husband—but he’s compelled to try nonetheless.] Why would I wish for that?
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You are indomitable. Wherever did I find you?
[ It occurs to him, not for the first time, that no one would ever have wed them, had they known how well the union would work. He cannot recall a time when he had worked so hard for someone’s pleasure and been so glad of the labour.
He does not bother with subtlety; he can’t, not with the way his own need has set every nerve in his body on fire, not with the tight grip of Liem’s body making him feel like he’s losing his mind. His mouth smears over his lover’s shoulder, the crook of his neck. The grip of his hand is tight, moving in time with each indulgent stroke of his hips, and with each one his pleasure closes in, relentless and inescapable. ]
My dearest victim—
[ His, his alone to torment and tease and trouble and soothe, too, when his cruelties have run their course. He cannot care if he deserves Liem, cannot be unselfish about this even a little bit.
He doesn’t want to stop. He doesn’t want it to end—
His teeth sink into Liem’s shoulder, and he cannot help that either. ]
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It blooms hot and insistent beneath his skin in the wake of each kiss; rolls through him with every thrust of Cardan’s hips and every stroke of his hand. The low rumble of his husband’s voice in his ear only makes the longing building inside him wilder, until he’s not sure how he can bear it any longer.]
Yours, [he gasps, and clutches at the sheets as he tries not to squirm into his husband’s touch. The feeling that awakens in his chest at being called Cardan’s dearest anything is rabid, insensate with need. Frustration adds the edge of a whine to his breaths as he teeters on the edge of it, unprepared; then Cardan’s teeth clamp down on his shoulder, and his hips buck fruitlessly against him as a hot pulse of pleasure races down his spine, shoving him up to the edge and over.]
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Liem-- [ His eyes are shut; he breathes it against his lover's skin, a prayer against his desperation and his endless greed. ] Fuck, Liem--
[ And then he's there, and he's trembling through it, his arm coiling around Liem like a vice as he does.
It takes him some time to catch his breath and regain his faculties in the aftermath. Stubborn affection curls up in his chest even so. His fingers stroke idly down Liem's flank, indulgent in the pleasure of touching him, even if Cardan is already plastered against him as is. ]
Next time someone tells me we oughtn't be fucking, [ he informs Liem, quite reasonably, without bothering to open his eyes, ] I am simply going to ignore them.
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Though even as the urgent waves of pleasure begin to recede and Liem begins to recall the existence of other matters, the man wrapped around him becomes no less precious.
Even now, there is still nothing he wants more than to be tangled up in his husband’s embrace, painting his skin with drowsy kisses in defiance of the sun still ruling the landscape outside. He wants to stay that way until he has reacquainted himself with all the pleasures he’s been denying himself since the doctor conducted her examination over a week ago. That the world will not stop turning to accommodate this seems hugely unfair.
Of late, he seems to have more and more desire, and less and less time in which to fulfill any of it.]
That person is almost certainly bound to be me, [he observes. He’s reminded of his husband’s suggestion that he might accost him in the middle of his work. This seems like a prime opportunity for that kind of statement to him, though Liem suspects he ends up actually objecting to Cardan’s nonsense far less than he actually ought to.]
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