[Once he has relinquished any more of his husband’s kisses, Liem is eager to return with him to the house’s warm embrace. The idle pleasure of the last few hours seems to follow them back in from the cold, and even once they are again among the servants, Liem cannot quite care to disguise the spring their trip has added to his step.
He is, perhaps, a little pleased with himself over the success of their adventure. It is a rare kind of delight for him, so he sees no harm in savouring it.
This time, he asks the house to ready a bath ahead of time, before they’ve even returned to their rooms. The noise of running water greets them on their return—a welcome sound for Liem, who has politely avoided touching Cardan on their walk back through the halls, and is impatient to rid himself of his rudely persistent chill. The door has barely closed behind them when he begins flicking open the buttons of his waistcoat, already wandering in the direction of the bathroom.]
[ In contrast to last time, Cardan has allowed the servants to exchange his boots for shoes and replace his sweater with one that isn't damp with snow -- though his tail is still out, trailing him with pleased little loops. He is still chilly, which is why he lingers in front of the fireplace with his cup of steaming, briskly astringent pine tea.
Liem's sojourn toward the bathroom gets him a raised eyebrow. ]
Eager to avoid your punishment from last time?
[ His smirk is incorrigibly smug. Now that they're back on solid ground, he is free to draw his arrogance around him once more like a cloak; all the better to disguise the alarmingly tender delight he feels at Liem's satisfaction with the trip. ]
[Prior to his marriage, it never occurred to Liem to concern himself with his temperature in cold weather, or with warming himself up after venturing into it. Never before has he needed to restrain himself from touch over such a thing; given how insatiable he has become for the pleasure of his husband coiled around him, he finds himself impatient to rectify this particular obstacle to something that now seems to him like a necessity.
He meets Cardan’s smirk sidelong, his fingers continuing without pause down the line of buttons at his front. In moments the waistcoat hangs undone, and he moves to unknot his tie instead.]
Have you a mind to revenge yourself on me again?
[His tone is light, innocent and just a little taken aback, as though he had never considered his husband might harbour such wickedness.]
[ Cardan leaves the blissfully hot fireplace with some reluctance -- but needs must, and his current need dictates that he cross the room to stop before Liem. His tea-warmed fingers advance to curl under Liem's chin, urging him to tip his face up so that Cardan might eye him. Once Liem's tie is undone, the fingertips trail down, over the pale line of his throat and to its hollow. ]
As I recall, you enjoyed yourself quite thoroughly.
[ Last time, and also this night.
Liem is not much warmer than he was outside -- but Cardan is, and his palm in particular is. He slides it casually over the base of his husband's throat, splayed fingers flirting with the skin just inside his collar. ]
[Liem’s mission to undress is a race against the time it takes for his husband to distract him entirely from his purpose. The fingers curling beneath his jaw make his hands pause, still gripping silk. As Cardan’s warm, seductive touch wanders his neck, bright tongues of need flare hot in his belly and slip down to his thighs; his pace as he flicks open the buttons of his shirt is notably more sluggish than before.
His gaze at his husband tilts heavily toward flirtatious interest.]
That depends entirely on the nature of the “crime.”
[If Cardan repays Liem’s teasing disrespect by putting him in his place, does the punishment not count if Liem takes pleasure in his own humiliation? Even if Cardan takes pleasure in the act regardless? Even if the disrespect was nothing more than provocation?]
Besides, I didn’t enjoy being dunked fully clothed into my bath. What I enjoyed was being the object of your desire for playful retribution. [A smile plays with the corner of his mouth.] Among other things.
Among other things, [ Cardan echoes, his tone betraying a marked interest in what those other things might be. But he doesn't ask; instead he leans in, tail curling saucily as he brings his mouth to Liem's ear.
The low rumble of his voice is, as always, indulgent. ]
But you never answered my question. Are you behaving?
[ Is he provoking Liem, leaning close as he is, with his own shirt collar undone and the pulse at his wrist pressed against his husband's collarbone? Hopefully so. Liem is right: Cardan does have discipline on his mind.
How funny that he, who has not one regimented bone in his body, should be wed to a man who likes to be so tested. But then, Cardan likes it too -- likes the way Liem's throat feels under his hand, deceptively delicate. Likes the way his lover lets him put his hands wherever he wishes, only fanning his possessive urges. Likes Liem's game indulgence in arbitrary rules and trials. ]
[Remaining focused on his mission to bathe himself warm is exceedingly difficult when his husband insists on getting into his space like this, on putting his hands on him as though he isn't borderline-freezing. The fingers now paused on his shirt buttons would much rather sneak beneath the hem of that cozy sweater. His mouth would fit so naturally against the pale curve of Cardan’s bare throat.]
Husband, you sound almost as though you’d like to encourage me to mischief.
[It is too much, to expect him to ignore his lover while he is right here. Liem’s fingers abandon their half-finished chore to spread against Cardan’s chest instead, fanning over the fuzzy knit of his sweater. Tipping his head gently, he presses his chilly cheek to his husband’s warm one.]
If I have had any wicked impulses this evening, they have safely avoided bearing fruit.
[Perhaps he might have been tempted to put his icicle fingers up Cardan’s shirt after their race and his trip into the riverbank, but after he was kissed so soundly, it seemed cruel to inflict further chill on his shivering spouse.]
[ Sometimes he thinks he likes this best: the strange twilight between tease and seduction, with its careful breaths and casual touches, when Liem is already distracted but hasn't yet given in fully. It is satisfying how easily his husband lets him get into his space and peddle his nonsense, pull him away from his work, put his hands wherever he pleases. He draws in a soft breath when Liem's hands find his chest, feeling triumphant. Desire snakes its way down his spine, insidious and eager, hotter than the warmth of any hearth. Liem's cheek against his own makes his eyes flutter shut, briefly. ]
Very virtuous of you.
[ He makes it sound vaguely disapproving.
His mouth brushes over Liem's temple, light as a breath. ]
[Here is the problem with Cardan’s villainous scheme to tempt Liem into mischief, if that is what he’s doing: The more he touches Liem like his body is Cardan’s possession, and the more he makes demands that he so obviously expects to see fulfilled, the more Liem simply wants to bend to his every whim. Already the delightful shiver from those soft lips brushing his temple compels Liem more than any latent mischievous desires. The slow drag of his hands down his husband’s clothed chest never reaches his sweater’s hem.]
Ah… I had half a mind to prey on you after you laughed at me. To trap you and warm my fingers on you, just a little.
[His confession is soft, and he speaks it with a hint of coy reluctance that suggests he knows he’s been a little bad. If Cardan hadn’t diverted him with a kiss, perhaps he would have menaced his husband after all.]
It is so tempting to have you at my mercy sometimes, when you don’t expect it.
[ It seems that Liem is unwilling to let himself be goaded into mischief quite so easily; instead, here he is, confessing his sins to Cardan. Well, so be it. Cardan hides his avaricious little grin against his lover's hair. When he straightens, there is no sign of amusement -- only coolly raised eyebrows. ]
I take it back. What villainous thoughts, husband.
[ He can think of only a couple occasions when Liem has had him at his mercy -- and only one of them entirely unexpected. Though he remembers, too, how surprisingly delighted Liem seemed at the opportunity to torture him with his kisses.
Perhaps his husband has developed a sadistic streak after all.
He reaches behind him to put his cup down on an errant bureau. He needs both hands: this way, he can slide both his palms down the exposed skin of Liem's chest, luxuriating in the feeling of lithe (albeit icy) muscle.
From there, he picks off where Liem left off with the buttons. ]
Are you going to have trouble with keeping your hands to yourself, Liem?
[ The sly upward twitch at one corner of his mouth suggests that he already knows the answer. ]
[It speaks to Liem’s deep, enduring fussiness that even with Cardan holding his gaze, hand warm against his skin, Liem still spares a frown towards his errant teacup when he sets it down on the bureau. That is what coasters are for. Now it’s going to leave a ring…
But he cannot ignore the hands sliding over his chest, nor the way eagerness races down his spine as Cardan so deliberately continues the task he’d abandoned. He’ll have to worry about the bureau later, since at present he is busy levelling an intent gaze at his husband’s mouth and wishing it were on his.]
Yes, [he predicts. For hours now he has been waiting and wanting to get his hands properly on his spouse. Thus his hurry to dunk himself in his bath—which Cardan is now keeping him from. His cool fingers caress Cardan’s waist through layers of clothing as he contemplates the warm body beneath.]
I spend so much of my nights not touching you already, Cardan.
[He could be good, of course. But if his husband doesn’t even wish him to, then what would be the point?]
[ That gets Liem a wry eyebrow quirk, even as Cardan suppresses a shiver at the touch on his waist -- perhaps in distant memory of that night under Elfhame's stars. ]
Perhaps you should have thought of that before letting your hands freeze.
[ Certainly there was ample opportunity for Liem to touch Cardan earlier in the evening -- should he have only considered abandoning his work duties, his athletics, or any of the other stupidly disciplined activities he so insists on.
Cardan's contemplative tone bodes ill for Liem's desire to touch him now. The prince, meanwhile, seems to have no compunctions about letting his hands roam -- finishing up with Liem's shirt to sweep his hands over his stomach, his flanks, characteristically greedy. His index fingers hook into the waistband of Liem's immaculately tailored trousers, pulling him flush against Cardan. His little exhale is measured.
His smiling mouth bends to Liem's ear, pressing against the delicate shell. ]
You'll just have to overcome your baser impulses. At least until I've warmed up again.
[ The hands on Liem's waistband release him; Cardan reaches, instead, for the hem of his own sweater, intent on pulling it off over his head. ]
[The look Liem aims up at his husband’s cool regard is rueful, perhaps in agreement; here and now, after their hours-long expedition into the snow, he finds himself hungering for his spouse rather more keenly than he’d anticipated. It seems short-sighted for him to have landed himself in this circumstance, even if Cardan is the one blithely standing in the way of the solution to his problem. After all, he should have anticipated that his husband would be mischievous and difficult. These are hardly new traits for him.
And in any case, he cannot be cross with Cardan when his hands feel so delightful on his chilled skin, and his breath is so warm against his ear. Even if it does not warm him appreciably, he cannot object to the distraction of his husband’s body pulled against his own. Restraining the baser impulse to worm his hands under Cardan’s shirt, he indulges a different impulse instead, and slides them down to cradle the lean curve of his ass.]
There is… mm… [—Liem pauses, distracted, to observe Cardan pull the sweater over his head —] a hot bath in the other room that could warm you up quite efficiently.
[It might actually be a little too warm for his husband’s liking, but the longer they fuck around, the less of an issue that will be.]
Oh? [ says Cardan, as if he hadn't been ignoring said bath in favour of thwarting his husband. He tosses the sweater in the general direction of an armchair, though without any particular care about whether it actually lands there. As soon as it's out of his hands, he will lean in again, this time to crush his mouth against Liem's. His kiss is hungry, spurred on by Liem's hands on him -- dangerous in more than one way, now. He can't help but covet their touch regardless, no matter how foolish the desire.
His hand braces against the bureau as he advances, one thigh sliding between Liem's to pin him there, grinding their hips together in a shiver of delicious friction. Unfortunately, he cannot yet be as close as either of them want -- indeed, touch will become more challenging as Cardan's plans progress. When he pulls back to breathe, his hands find the front of his own shirt. His tie is in Liem's coat pocket; all that's left to deal with are the buttons.
His grin at Liem is sharply, breathlessly self-satisfied. ]
[Even if some part of Liem still wishes to be good, to let Cardan do whatever he wishes without complaint or interruption, what Cardan wishes seems more and more to be to make his restraint impossible—or at the very least, distractingly frustrating. That kiss stokes his hunger, and when he’s pressed back against the bureau, the grind of Cardan’s hips against him pulls a wanting little sigh from his throat. Something about his husband using his body to hem him in—whether against wall or furniture or bare ground—always makes him desperately aware of just how they fit together, of the placement of those long-fingered hands and the heat of the lithe form pressed against him. He cannot help but crave more.
Liem has, evidently, forgotten all about undressing himself. He is much more interested in the smug grin his spouse aims his way, and his own keen want to kiss it again. Surely that is allowed. His chilly hands stay safely occupied with his husband’s rear as he leans up to press a chilly kiss to the corner of his mouth.]
Advantage? [he murmurs, brushing his lips against his husband’s jaw.] Of the bath, or of me?
Yes, [ Cardan breathes, smug and impatient all the same. He cannot begrudge Liem his kiss -- cannot even pretend that he does, though he does tilt his head when Liem's mouth wanders too close to his vulnerable neck. That will earn Liem a punitive little nip, not that Cardan imagines he'll feel much chastened.
After which Cardan has to kiss him again, indulgent with longing -- because he wants to. Because no matter how cold Liem still might be, that quiet little sigh and the feel of him against Cardan kindles eager, irrepressible need in him. And because he wants his husband's desire to be even more demanding and torturous than his own, teased taut by his demands.
With the last of his buttons coming undone, his hands are free to return to Liem's face, slide into his hair. And when he's finally done, he will pull back -- and step back, pulling himself from the grasp of Liem's hands.
He watches his husband while undoing the cuffs of the shirt -- watches him, too, as he lets it slip off of his shoulders and crumple at his feet. ]
[Perhaps perversely, the nip warning him away from Cardan’s neck only relaxes Liem further into his wicked husband’s care. He is ever beguiled by that little spark of pain and the shiver of pleasure that follows—at least where his lover’s mouth is involved.
There is, he’s begun to suspect, probably nothing Cardan could do with his mouth that wouldn't delight him.
Certainly the way he kisses Liem only makes him more discontented to lose him when his husband moves back, pulling from his covetous grasp. His eyes narrow slightly as he watches Cardan’s shirt slip from him, exposing the lean, lovely body that he is presently forbidden from touching any of. Liem plucks his cuffs undone instead to occupy his hands, but his attention is not so easily redirected.]
Oh, I am always hungry for the latter.
[Perhaps that weeks-long stretch at the beginning of their marriage, when he had done nothing but weather Cardan’s constant menacing, turned Liem into some kind of pervert with an insatiable lust to be preyed upon. He cannot recall wishing for such a thing before the last six months—at least, not outside the realm of fantasy.]
[ He'd often heard -- and shared -- the cruel insinuation that mortals must like being tricked, else why would they make it so easy? But Cardan didn't think he had ever believed it. No one truly liked being tricked, regardless of how deserved it was, or how foolish they were.
And then he'd met Liem.
He likes the distraction in his husband's face and his half-hearted attempt at his own cuffs. He likes that Liem watches him; he likes that narrow-eyed stare, the spark of thwarted annoyance that sometimes still flashes in his face when Cardan is being particularly unreasonable. Like right now, when he's denying Liem his warm-up bath -- denying them both the pleasure of fucking already, after what feels like hours of stolen kisses and breathless wanting.
But, as it turns out, Liem isn't the only pervert around.
Having rid himself of his shirt, Cardan only smiles and turns, heading into the bathroom he'd stopped Liem from entering. He's efficient, at least -- removing his rings on the way there, so that he may scatter the handful of them onto a low little table. After this, he turns and leans against it. ]
How lucky, that you've ended up with Elfhame's most vexing man.
[ Speaking of which: Cardan looks down, wiggles his covered toes, and then glances back at Liem. ]
My shoes, husband, if you would.
[ The shoes that he's still, uncharacteristically, wearing. ]
[Had someone told Liem, months ago, that his upcoming marriage would see him eager to be toyed with and bullied by his husband, he would have had nothing but scorn for the suggestion. For him to truly desire his husband’s torment, in reality and not just in idle fancies, he would need to believe that it wasn’t mean-spirited. He would need to feel that his husband actually liked him.
And astonishingly, despite his best efforts… he does. He is eager for that smug, villainous smile, for the frustration his husband inflicts on him at his whim. When Cardan strolls into the bathroom and pauses there, glancing at him as he looks up from his shoes, the arrogance of his idle demand feels comfortable. It feels intimate.
He wouldn’t have guessed that such a thing could provoke such longing in him.
Impatience means that by the time Liem trails after him into the bathroom, he’s shouldered off his undone layers, leaving them on the floor in his wake. He kneels before Cardan bare to the waist, and though the look he aims up at him is level enough to suggest some degree of rebellion lurking behind it, spurred by impatience or some scrap of pride, he still props his husband’s shoe against his thigh and works it undone with quick, compliant fingers.]
I cannot decide if that makes you more alluring, or if your allure makes you more vexing.
[ He laughs, delighted at Liem's obedience and his impatience and his lithe shirtlessness. Cardan will watch Liem kneel before him with all the arrogance of a monarch receiving his due -- watch the nimble fingers untangle his laces, watch the flash of stubborn pride. Helpless affection fills him alongside his customary avarice, warming his face with an unexpected flush.
As always, everything Liem gives him only makes him only more possessive. ]
What a terrible man you make of me, [ he murmurs, tenderly. His fingers trail idly down his own stomach. Lazily, unhurriedly, he will undo the fly of his trousers so he can slide long fingers inside, so he can take himself in hand and stroke.
And even with his best attempts at languor, his breath stutters to a halt with the pleasure of it. In an effort not to shiver, his teeth dig into his lip. He is piteously hard; he has been hard for what feels like close to an hour, since he'd first put his hand on Liem's throat and made him pause in his task.
But then, is not all of their marriage built on the foundation of frustrated desire? He breathes out, carefully, and then does it again -- a slow, deceptively lazy rhythm, as if he isn't going a little insane already. He wants Liem: he wants his mouth, and he wants those obedient, efficient hands, and he wants his pliant pleasure and the sharp edge of his teeth. He wants those things desperately, and yet--
His gaze, though heavy-lidded, never leaves Liem's face. ]
That's one, [ he says, of the shoe, ignoring the breathy hitch in his own voice. ]
[For all his compliance and his clever fingers, Liem cannot truly make a good attendant when he is so painfully distracted by the man who he’s meant to be undressing. He swallows as he absently sets the first shoe aside, his gaze fixed on his half-clothed spouse as Cardan slides his hand down his belly to slip it inside his own trousers. He can no more tear his gaze from the sight of his obvious pleasure than he could deafen himself to the music of his speeding pulse or the breathy sound of his voice.
Liem desperately, impatiently wants Cardan bared to his touch. That he is not presently permitted to touch him does not even cross his mind; he is too busy lifting Cardan’s other foot onto his lap, unlacing the shoe entirely by feel as he continues to level a devouring stare at his spouse.
He does not remain at his husband’s feet once he’s pulled the other shoe free, but stands again so he can cage him against the table at his back. His fingertips trail up Cardan’s thighs to pause at the waist of his trousers, just a twitch away from the bare, vulnerable skin of his flanks.]
The bath is ready for you, Your Highness. [His words are a hushed murmur, accompanying the contemplative stroke of his thumbs over Cardan’s hips.] Aren’t you going to go in?
[ It's perverse, probably, for the threat of Liem's icy fingers at his waist to make him shiver into the next stroke of his hand, riding the hot little pang of lust it provokes. But fear ever does this to him -- makes his pulse hammer and the blood thunder in his throat, in his chest, beneath the thin skin of his wrists. Makes him wanton and stupid. He knew it would be like this. He'd known it from the night of their wedding, when he'd first stepped close to Liem and caught blood on his scent.
Besides, his husband looks delectable stripped to his waist and caught by desire, those bright eyes on Cardan's face. It is a shame Cardan can't kiss him without leaning a little too close. ]
...mm.
[ For a moment, it seems like that might be his only response. His eyes flutter closed. His grip on the table is hard; the fingers flex, a little helpless, in time with his heavy breaths. He could probably keep going -- could probably come just like this. Could make Liem watch him as he does, close enough to see and hear every detail of Cardan's coming undone.
But he's not sure even Liem's obedience runs so deep as to hold in that circumstance. So he forces himself to open his eyes again; his half-lidded gaze finds his husband's face, focuses on his features. ]
No, [ Cardan says, the word more deliberate for his effort to control his breathing, ] I've changed my mind.
Why don't you go first, husband?
[ In his defense: that tub is still suspiciously steamy, and his husband makes for a giant ice cube. Liem may be immune to scalding, but Cardan decidedly isn't. ]
[Cardan is wise to suppose that Liem’s restraint might not last in this circumstance, with Cardan caught in his grasp and so close to coming undone. His gaze on his husband is rapt, hungry; when Cardan’s eyes slide closed, he very nearly closes the remaining distance between them to paint impertinent kisses over his unguarded throat.
He might still, if he can’t persuade himself to resist.
The fingers slide from Cardan’s hips, one hand finding the table’s edge and the other the fastenings of his own shoe, which he simply lifts up behind him to unlace right where he stands. He finds himself uninclined to withdraw even slightly, at least before he must.]
What a tease you are.
[To keep him from his hot bath, to distract and waylay him, only to decide to send Liem on his way after all. To expect Liem to accommodate his whims even so.
He nudges off his first shoe; sets to unlacing the second. If he is leaning closer now, if his breath slides cool against his husband’s bare collarbone, surely he is just leaning against the table to keep his balance. His slow exhale is deliberate.]
[ He's pleased by the insistent way Liem stays in his space -- pleased, too, by the accusations that fall from his husband's lips. The tip of his tail flutters with it, even as he shivers against the threat of that chilled mouth on his skin, so close.
He doesn't bother repressing his grin. ]
Astray, husband?
[ Well, it is true that Liem is infinitely more pliable when he's horny. Cardan cannot pretend to fully understand it, but then he cannot recall ever desiring to be under someone else's control.
There are many things about his husband he does not yet understand.
But it doesn't matter; he doesn't need to understand Liem to want him, clearly. What he needs is for his husband to hurry up with the undressing, to get in the bath, and warm up so that Cardan can give up on the farce of pretending to have patience. Already, his breaths come a little too quickly. He had gone very still when Liem had tipped closer: a convenient enough excuse to give himself a break from his incessant desire. ]
Is there elsewhere you ought to be?
[ His tone says, Of course not. In fact, Liem never ought to be anywhere but where Cardan wants him -- which is here, with Cardan, and preferably also with fewer articles of clothing. ]
[It is well that Cardan is pleased by Liem’s impudence, because now that he’s close like this again, close enough to appreciate the green scent and impertinent heat coming off his husband’s skin, he has no desire to go quietly to his bath without first claiming some pleasure for himself. His husband has drawn the game out too long, touched him too little, and he now finds himself wishing to repay just a little of his mischief.
That, and Cardan does look so eminently desirable like this. Who could be expected to resist?
Now finished his unlacing, he nudges off his other shoe, returning his free hand to his husband’s hip. Of course there is nowhere else he ought to be; he is Cardan’s for the rest of the night, after all. And in almost every way that matters, he will be Cardan’s for far longer than that.
And for now, Cardan is his.
Liem’s fingers slide up to curl over the slim curve of his waist. His mouth dips to smear a chill kiss against the hollow of his throat. Cold lips move against blood-warm skin.]
Not anymore.
[He will retreat, finally, towards the bath, stepping back and undoing his trousers as he goes. Then, shucking the last of his clothes, leaving them abandoned on the tile, Liem slides into the bath with a sigh.]
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no subject
He is, perhaps, a little pleased with himself over the success of their adventure. It is a rare kind of delight for him, so he sees no harm in savouring it.
This time, he asks the house to ready a bath ahead of time, before they’ve even returned to their rooms. The noise of running water greets them on their return—a welcome sound for Liem, who has politely avoided touching Cardan on their walk back through the halls, and is impatient to rid himself of his rudely persistent chill. The door has barely closed behind them when he begins flicking open the buttons of his waistcoat, already wandering in the direction of the bathroom.]
no subject
Liem's sojourn toward the bathroom gets him a raised eyebrow. ]
Eager to avoid your punishment from last time?
[ His smirk is incorrigibly smug. Now that they're back on solid ground, he is free to draw his arrogance around him once more like a cloak; all the better to disguise the alarmingly tender delight he feels at Liem's satisfaction with the trip. ]
no subject
He meets Cardan’s smirk sidelong, his fingers continuing without pause down the line of buttons at his front. In moments the waistcoat hangs undone, and he moves to unknot his tie instead.]
Have you a mind to revenge yourself on me again?
[His tone is light, innocent and just a little taken aback, as though he had never considered his husband might harbour such wickedness.]
After I so indulged you this evening?
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As I recall, you enjoyed yourself quite thoroughly.
[ Last time, and also this night.
Liem is not much warmer than he was outside -- but Cardan is, and his palm in particular is. He slides it casually over the base of his husband's throat, splayed fingers flirting with the skin just inside his collar. ]
Surely revenge calls for the opposite.
no subject
His gaze at his husband tilts heavily toward flirtatious interest.]
That depends entirely on the nature of the “crime.”
[If Cardan repays Liem’s teasing disrespect by putting him in his place, does the punishment not count if Liem takes pleasure in his own humiliation? Even if Cardan takes pleasure in the act regardless? Even if the disrespect was nothing more than provocation?]
Besides, I didn’t enjoy being dunked fully clothed into my bath. What I enjoyed was being the object of your desire for playful retribution. [A smile plays with the corner of his mouth.] Among other things.
no subject
The low rumble of his voice is, as always, indulgent. ]
But you never answered my question. Are you behaving?
[ Is he provoking Liem, leaning close as he is, with his own shirt collar undone and the pulse at his wrist pressed against his husband's collarbone? Hopefully so. Liem is right: Cardan does have discipline on his mind.
How funny that he, who has not one regimented bone in his body, should be wed to a man who likes to be so tested. But then, Cardan likes it too -- likes the way Liem's throat feels under his hand, deceptively delicate. Likes the way his lover lets him put his hands wherever he wishes, only fanning his possessive urges. Likes Liem's game indulgence in arbitrary rules and trials. ]
no subject
Husband, you sound almost as though you’d like to encourage me to mischief.
[It is too much, to expect him to ignore his lover while he is right here. Liem’s fingers abandon their half-finished chore to spread against Cardan’s chest instead, fanning over the fuzzy knit of his sweater. Tipping his head gently, he presses his chilly cheek to his husband’s warm one.]
If I have had any wicked impulses this evening, they have safely avoided bearing fruit.
[Perhaps he might have been tempted to put his icicle fingers up Cardan’s shirt after their race and his trip into the riverbank, but after he was kissed so soundly, it seemed cruel to inflict further chill on his shivering spouse.]
no subject
[ Sometimes he thinks he likes this best: the strange twilight between tease and seduction, with its careful breaths and casual touches, when Liem is already distracted but hasn't yet given in fully. It is satisfying how easily his husband lets him get into his space and peddle his nonsense, pull him away from his work, put his hands wherever he pleases. He draws in a soft breath when Liem's hands find his chest, feeling triumphant. Desire snakes its way down his spine, insidious and eager, hotter than the warmth of any hearth. Liem's cheek against his own makes his eyes flutter shut, briefly. ]
Very virtuous of you.
[ He makes it sound vaguely disapproving.
His mouth brushes over Liem's temple, light as a breath. ]
Tell me more about those impulses.
no subject
Ah… I had half a mind to prey on you after you laughed at me. To trap you and warm my fingers on you, just a little.
[His confession is soft, and he speaks it with a hint of coy reluctance that suggests he knows he’s been a little bad. If Cardan hadn’t diverted him with a kiss, perhaps he would have menaced his husband after all.]
It is so tempting to have you at my mercy sometimes, when you don’t expect it.
no subject
I take it back. What villainous thoughts, husband.
[ He can think of only a couple occasions when Liem has had him at his mercy -- and only one of them entirely unexpected. Though he remembers, too, how surprisingly delighted Liem seemed at the opportunity to torture him with his kisses.
Perhaps his husband has developed a sadistic streak after all.
He reaches behind him to put his cup down on an errant bureau. He needs both hands: this way, he can slide both his palms down the exposed skin of Liem's chest, luxuriating in the feeling of lithe (albeit icy) muscle.
From there, he picks off where Liem left off with the buttons. ]
Are you going to have trouble with keeping your hands to yourself, Liem?
[ The sly upward twitch at one corner of his mouth suggests that he already knows the answer. ]
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But he cannot ignore the hands sliding over his chest, nor the way eagerness races down his spine as Cardan so deliberately continues the task he’d abandoned. He’ll have to worry about the bureau later, since at present he is busy levelling an intent gaze at his husband’s mouth and wishing it were on his.]
Yes, [he predicts. For hours now he has been waiting and wanting to get his hands properly on his spouse. Thus his hurry to dunk himself in his bath—which Cardan is now keeping him from. His cool fingers caress Cardan’s waist through layers of clothing as he contemplates the warm body beneath.]
I spend so much of my nights not touching you already, Cardan.
[He could be good, of course. But if his husband doesn’t even wish him to, then what would be the point?]
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Perhaps you should have thought of that before letting your hands freeze.
[ Certainly there was ample opportunity for Liem to touch Cardan earlier in the evening -- should he have only considered abandoning his work duties, his athletics, or any of the other stupidly disciplined activities he so insists on.
Cardan's contemplative tone bodes ill for Liem's desire to touch him now. The prince, meanwhile, seems to have no compunctions about letting his hands roam -- finishing up with Liem's shirt to sweep his hands over his stomach, his flanks, characteristically greedy. His index fingers hook into the waistband of Liem's immaculately tailored trousers, pulling him flush against Cardan. His little exhale is measured.
His smiling mouth bends to Liem's ear, pressing against the delicate shell. ]
You'll just have to overcome your baser impulses. At least until I've warmed up again.
[ The hands on Liem's waistband release him; Cardan reaches, instead, for the hem of his own sweater, intent on pulling it off over his head. ]
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And in any case, he cannot be cross with Cardan when his hands feel so delightful on his chilled skin, and his breath is so warm against his ear. Even if it does not warm him appreciably, he cannot object to the distraction of his husband’s body pulled against his own. Restraining the baser impulse to worm his hands under Cardan’s shirt, he indulges a different impulse instead, and slides them down to cradle the lean curve of his ass.]
There is… mm… [—Liem pauses, distracted, to observe Cardan pull the sweater over his head —] a hot bath in the other room that could warm you up quite efficiently.
[It might actually be a little too warm for his husband’s liking, but the longer they fuck around, the less of an issue that will be.]
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His hand braces against the bureau as he advances, one thigh sliding between Liem's to pin him there, grinding their hips together in a shiver of delicious friction. Unfortunately, he cannot yet be as close as either of them want -- indeed, touch will become more challenging as Cardan's plans progress. When he pulls back to breathe, his hands find the front of his own shirt. His tie is in Liem's coat pocket; all that's left to deal with are the buttons.
His grin at Liem is sharply, breathlessly self-satisfied. ]
Then who am I, not to take advantage?
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Liem has, evidently, forgotten all about undressing himself. He is much more interested in the smug grin his spouse aims his way, and his own keen want to kiss it again. Surely that is allowed. His chilly hands stay safely occupied with his husband’s rear as he leans up to press a chilly kiss to the corner of his mouth.]
Advantage? [he murmurs, brushing his lips against his husband’s jaw.] Of the bath, or of me?
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After which Cardan has to kiss him again, indulgent with longing -- because he wants to. Because no matter how cold Liem still might be, that quiet little sigh and the feel of him against Cardan kindles eager, irrepressible need in him. And because he wants his husband's desire to be even more demanding and torturous than his own, teased taut by his demands.
With the last of his buttons coming undone, his hands are free to return to Liem's face, slide into his hair. And when he's finally done, he will pull back -- and step back, pulling himself from the grasp of Liem's hands.
He watches his husband while undoing the cuffs of the shirt -- watches him, too, as he lets it slip off of his shoulders and crumple at his feet. ]
Or would you prefer one over the other?
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There is, he’s begun to suspect, probably nothing Cardan could do with his mouth that wouldn't delight him.
Certainly the way he kisses Liem only makes him more discontented to lose him when his husband moves back, pulling from his covetous grasp. His eyes narrow slightly as he watches Cardan’s shirt slip from him, exposing the lean, lovely body that he is presently forbidden from touching any of. Liem plucks his cuffs undone instead to occupy his hands, but his attention is not so easily redirected.]
Oh, I am always hungry for the latter.
[Perhaps that weeks-long stretch at the beginning of their marriage, when he had done nothing but weather Cardan’s constant menacing, turned Liem into some kind of pervert with an insatiable lust to be preyed upon. He cannot recall wishing for such a thing before the last six months—at least, not outside the realm of fantasy.]
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[ He'd often heard -- and shared -- the cruel insinuation that mortals must like being tricked, else why would they make it so easy? But Cardan didn't think he had ever believed it. No one truly liked being tricked, regardless of how deserved it was, or how foolish they were.
And then he'd met Liem.
He likes the distraction in his husband's face and his half-hearted attempt at his own cuffs. He likes that Liem watches him; he likes that narrow-eyed stare, the spark of thwarted annoyance that sometimes still flashes in his face when Cardan is being particularly unreasonable. Like right now, when he's denying Liem his warm-up bath -- denying them both the pleasure of fucking already, after what feels like hours of stolen kisses and breathless wanting.
But, as it turns out, Liem isn't the only pervert around.
Having rid himself of his shirt, Cardan only smiles and turns, heading into the bathroom he'd stopped Liem from entering. He's efficient, at least -- removing his rings on the way there, so that he may scatter the handful of them onto a low little table. After this, he turns and leans against it. ]
How lucky, that you've ended up with Elfhame's most vexing man.
[ Speaking of which: Cardan looks down, wiggles his covered toes, and then glances back at Liem. ]
My shoes, husband, if you would.
[ The shoes that he's still, uncharacteristically, wearing. ]
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And astonishingly, despite his best efforts… he does. He is eager for that smug, villainous smile, for the frustration his husband inflicts on him at his whim. When Cardan strolls into the bathroom and pauses there, glancing at him as he looks up from his shoes, the arrogance of his idle demand feels comfortable. It feels intimate.
He wouldn’t have guessed that such a thing could provoke such longing in him.
Impatience means that by the time Liem trails after him into the bathroom, he’s shouldered off his undone layers, leaving them on the floor in his wake. He kneels before Cardan bare to the waist, and though the look he aims up at him is level enough to suggest some degree of rebellion lurking behind it, spurred by impatience or some scrap of pride, he still props his husband’s shoe against his thigh and works it undone with quick, compliant fingers.]
I cannot decide if that makes you more alluring, or if your allure makes you more vexing.
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As always, everything Liem gives him only makes him only more possessive. ]
What a terrible man you make of me, [ he murmurs, tenderly. His fingers trail idly down his own stomach. Lazily, unhurriedly, he will undo the fly of his trousers so he can slide long fingers inside, so he can take himself in hand and stroke.
And even with his best attempts at languor, his breath stutters to a halt with the pleasure of it. In an effort not to shiver, his teeth dig into his lip. He is piteously hard; he has been hard for what feels like close to an hour, since he'd first put his hand on Liem's throat and made him pause in his task.
But then, is not all of their marriage built on the foundation of frustrated desire? He breathes out, carefully, and then does it again -- a slow, deceptively lazy rhythm, as if he isn't going a little insane already. He wants Liem: he wants his mouth, and he wants those obedient, efficient hands, and he wants his pliant pleasure and the sharp edge of his teeth. He wants those things desperately, and yet--
His gaze, though heavy-lidded, never leaves Liem's face. ]
That's one, [ he says, of the shoe, ignoring the breathy hitch in his own voice. ]
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Liem desperately, impatiently wants Cardan bared to his touch. That he is not presently permitted to touch him does not even cross his mind; he is too busy lifting Cardan’s other foot onto his lap, unlacing the shoe entirely by feel as he continues to level a devouring stare at his spouse.
He does not remain at his husband’s feet once he’s pulled the other shoe free, but stands again so he can cage him against the table at his back. His fingertips trail up Cardan’s thighs to pause at the waist of his trousers, just a twitch away from the bare, vulnerable skin of his flanks.]
The bath is ready for you, Your Highness. [His words are a hushed murmur, accompanying the contemplative stroke of his thumbs over Cardan’s hips.] Aren’t you going to go in?
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Besides, his husband looks delectable stripped to his waist and caught by desire, those bright eyes on Cardan's face. It is a shame Cardan can't kiss him without leaning a little too close. ]
...mm.
[ For a moment, it seems like that might be his only response. His eyes flutter closed. His grip on the table is hard; the fingers flex, a little helpless, in time with his heavy breaths. He could probably keep going -- could probably come just like this. Could make Liem watch him as he does, close enough to see and hear every detail of Cardan's coming undone.
But he's not sure even Liem's obedience runs so deep as to hold in that circumstance. So he forces himself to open his eyes again; his half-lidded gaze finds his husband's face, focuses on his features. ]
No, [ Cardan says, the word more deliberate for his effort to control his breathing, ] I've changed my mind.
Why don't you go first, husband?
[ In his defense: that tub is still suspiciously steamy, and his husband makes for a giant ice cube. Liem may be immune to scalding, but Cardan decidedly isn't. ]
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He might still, if he can’t persuade himself to resist.
The fingers slide from Cardan’s hips, one hand finding the table’s edge and the other the fastenings of his own shoe, which he simply lifts up behind him to unlace right where he stands. He finds himself uninclined to withdraw even slightly, at least before he must.]
What a tease you are.
[To keep him from his hot bath, to distract and waylay him, only to decide to send Liem on his way after all. To expect Liem to accommodate his whims even so.
He nudges off his first shoe; sets to unlacing the second. If he is leaning closer now, if his breath slides cool against his husband’s bare collarbone, surely he is just leaning against the table to keep his balance. His slow exhale is deliberate.]
I am so easily led astray by you.
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He doesn't bother repressing his grin. ]
Astray, husband?
[ Well, it is true that Liem is infinitely more pliable when he's horny. Cardan cannot pretend to fully understand it, but then he cannot recall ever desiring to be under someone else's control.
There are many things about his husband he does not yet understand.
But it doesn't matter; he doesn't need to understand Liem to want him, clearly. What he needs is for his husband to hurry up with the undressing, to get in the bath, and warm up so that Cardan can give up on the farce of pretending to have patience. Already, his breaths come a little too quickly. He had gone very still when Liem had tipped closer: a convenient enough excuse to give himself a break from his incessant desire. ]
Is there elsewhere you ought to be?
[ His tone says, Of course not. In fact, Liem never ought to be anywhere but where Cardan wants him -- which is here, with Cardan, and preferably also with fewer articles of clothing. ]
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That, and Cardan does look so eminently desirable like this. Who could be expected to resist?
Now finished his unlacing, he nudges off his other shoe, returning his free hand to his husband’s hip. Of course there is nowhere else he ought to be; he is Cardan’s for the rest of the night, after all. And in almost every way that matters, he will be Cardan’s for far longer than that.
And for now, Cardan is his.
Liem’s fingers slide up to curl over the slim curve of his waist. His mouth dips to smear a chill kiss against the hollow of his throat. Cold lips move against blood-warm skin.]
Not anymore.
[He will retreat, finally, towards the bath, stepping back and undoing his trousers as he goes. Then, shucking the last of his clothes, leaving them abandoned on the tile, Liem slides into the bath with a sigh.]
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