[Caught in the wake of his climax, Liem is so steeped in blind, yearning affection that the hands encircling his wrists catch him by surprise. His splayed fingers halt before they can progress past Cardan’s waist, stroking gently over lean, tight muscles, but Liem leans away again so he can see his husband’s face.
He so rarely gets to see his lover look so tormented.]
You are ever the engineer of your own problems.
[He observes this, quiet with fondness, after a moment of breathless scrutiny. The fading of his urgency has only left more room for a growing, frighteningly tender desire—and despite still aching, shivery and oversensitive as he shifts against him, he cannot resist the impulse to press nearer with a soft noise, to kiss Cardan again. Deliberate, and sweet with longing.
He wants what Cardan demands, and more. He wants to belong to him, wants to be the object of not just his desire, but his obsession, his trust, his love. Liem’s wanting seems endless; it has harried him for months, growing louder each with each stolen night that Cardan is still by his side. He cannot imagine being free from it.
And yet, no matter how he might have wished to deny it, he also cannot recall a single time, before his marriage, that he ever felt this way.]
[ The groan he muffles against Liem's mouth is piteously hungry. Despite the sensitized shudder it wrings from him, he arches up into the kiss, as ever unable to refuse Liem in this. His hands release his lover's wrists; he runs them up Liem's back, possessive and greedy for him.
Liem is right. He has done this to himself. ]
...and what a terribly sweet torment it is.
[ But by the time he has pulled away enough to grin up at his husband, he will have recovered a little of his equilibrium. Not all of it -- not enough for his heart to cease hammering in his chest, nor for the tension to leave his body. The ache of wanting is almost unbearable. He breathes it against Liem's jaw, closing his eyes against its onslaught. ]
Your trousers.
[ He has no use for them now. And if they can shift Liem's attention for the next minute or so, all the better. ]
[The wild need that Cardan’s groan inspires in Liem should be shocking, given the bliss still settled heavily over him in the aftermath of his climax. Even though his mind ought to be clearer now, freer from distraction, he still feels caught by the greedy hands on his back and the warm mouth brushing his jaw. He is still pitifully transfixed by Cardan’s smile, still beguiled by his scent, still blind to everything but the precious, irreplaceable man in his arms. It makes him wish to put his mouth all over him, pull him close, and feel every heated inch of Cardan’s body twined with his.
Because he can. And because nothing else could possibly be more important at this moment than loving him, however briefly he might have the chance to.
Longing throbs through Liem like pain from an open wound, too keen to be ignored. Though he cannot imagine it fails to show on his face, in the curve of his mouth or the plaintive hunger in his eyes, he still pulls away, rolling off his husband to prop himself just beside him instead. Cardan remains correct; his trousers still need to come off, and even Liem’s reluctance to peel himself from his lover cannot silence his insistent need to be finally, fully bare with him. Shoving his trousers impatiently down his legs, he strips as hurriedly as he can with just one hand.]
You distracted me.
[He’s still distracting him. But that is unlikely to change.]
[ He watches Liem, caught by his expression -- by the desire he sees mirrored there, so strangely keen even now. It flutters on his breath, the ferocity of it. Already, he wants Liem back in his arms. He reaches out compulsively, trailing warm fingers over Liem's ribs, the lean dip of his waist. Not touching him is impossible -- not when he looks at Cardan like that, like he's the only thing that matters. How long has it been since he had felt he was someone like that? ]
I meant to.
[ His smile is a little rueful -- but only a little, because he doesn't actually regret it. ]
I want to be the sole object of your attention. Always.
My jealousy knows no reason.
[ And even so, even after Liem's trousers are off his body, he makes himself wait -- just a moment longer, just half a breath. Just enough to take him in one last time, bare and beautiful in his tousled vulnerability. His hand finds Liem's, intertwines their fingers again.
But his own yearning is too momentous -- like the roar of an avalanche, it will bury him if he doesn't act. He shifts his weight, moving so he is poised over his husband.
When Cardan presses him into the sheets, the feeling of relief is so intense it is nearly painful; he sighs with it, dipping close to bury his face against the pale column of Liem's throat. ]
None except you, [ Cardan tells him, not entirely sure that he's making sense anymore. He is distracted now -- caught up in his lover and his lust and the insistent, inescapable tenderness that fills his breast, pushing against his rib cage, so obvious that Liem will surely hear it on Cardan's heartbeat. ]
[Often, when Liem is with his husband, he struggles to lose himself in the moments they share. He cannot let himself forget the true nature of their partnership, cannot let himself think it might be anything other than what it is: Transactional. Temporary.
But he might forget now, just for a little while. He might lose sight of it in his husband’s dark, intent stare, in the warm fingers lacing with his, in the senseless murmur Cardan presses against his throat as he covers Liem with the weight of his body. The words pierce through him, a little painful; the longing filling his chest only aches harder, filling his lungs and constricting his throat with the intensity of his wanting.
Liem wraps an arm tight around him, every bit as jealous as his husband.]
You are so dangerous like this.
[Dangerous—and so terribly, inescapably precious. Liem tilts his head to press a kiss to Cardan’s temple, burying his nose in tousled raven curls, and murmurs into his hair.]
[ He grins, deeply pleased to be dragging Liem down into chaos and irresponsibility. He had already absconded with his caution, if only for a time -- and hadn't it been glorious? He thinks of Liem on the ice, bright-eyed and intent, thinks of him flushed and dishevelled on the way to a banquet, letting Cardan sneak his hands under his clothes. Even with the worries he had taken onto himself, it had been well worth it.
Though he doubts that even magic could make Liem truly insensible. ]
You've had to use too much of it tonight, [ he will tell Liem, dragging himself up to his lover's face with a half-stifled gasp, unable to ignore the hot shiver of need he feels at the contact. The hand that isn't clasped in Liem's finds his hip, his thigh, curling greedy fingers over soft skin so he can urge him to bend his knee. To bare himself to Cardan -- so that Cardan may claim him once more, bury himself in him and forget about everything and everyone else.
He's so impatient with it; every second feels like torture. And yet, and yet-- ]
[Liem needs little encouragement to forget his reason for a while and spend the morning indulging foolish fancies. The past evening shook him more than he cares to recall just now; he is eager to set it aside in favour of Cardan’s hand in his, Cardan’s weight against him, Cardan’s green scent and breathless, beguiling voice.
Though he’s forced to acknowledge that he can’t recall a time when Cardan didn’t inspire such wants.]
Gladly.
[Liem doesn’t bother to suppress the pleasurable shiver that runs through him when Cardan shifts against his body. It feels like the easiest, most natural thing in the world to give in to his husband’s coaxing grip, to spread his legs and invite him in. Even now, he remains greedy for it; for him.
It’s easier still to tip his face up and claim that soft, smiling mouth with his, now that Cardan is so near. He may as well be foolish, now; may as well slide his fingers into his lover’s hair, may as well caress the warm hand clasped with his. May as well kiss him like he never wants to stop, because certainly Cardan must be used to that by now regardless.]
[ Liem is irresistible when he's like this: soft, pliant, inexcusably tender. It kindles a feral, insatiable greed in Cardan's belly -- the absolute need to claim him until there is no shred of doubt about whom Liem belongs to. Until Liem doesn't remember ever having been anyone else's. It pulses painfully through his cock, shivers compulsively through him; his grip on Liem tightens even as he pants against his lover's mouth.
He cannot wait. When he presses inside him, the noise he makes is of pure animal need. Even this is agonizing: every part of him feels aflame with urgency, and yet he must go slow. He's too taut with desire, too sensitive and eager. If he's not careful-- ]
Liem. [ His teeth sink into Liem's lip, this time: a sharp little nip. It's his punishment for driving Cardan insane. He cannot quite manage to be gentle; instead, his kisses are heavy, burdened with all of his many desires.
His free hand tangles in the sheets, white-knuckled. He takes a few more breaths before his hips pull back all the way, slowly, only to slam back inside his lover's body. And again. And again, setting a merciless, steady rhythm, and he has to gasp around each one. He's not going to last. He can't. But it's fine, it's fine, it must be fine, because surely nothing that has ever felt this perfect could be wrong. ]
Liem, [ he breathes against the corner of his mouth, and it's as close to a prayer as he's ever come. ]
[Liem cannot even be startled anymore by his immediate, greedy relief when his husband presses into him, or by the sharp spike of lust that shoots through him when Cardan bites his lip. He has long since accepted that no amount of indulgence seems able to satisfy his hunger for the man in his arms; that was abundantly clear even before the long, half-frantic day they’d shared in Elfhame, after Balekin’s revel.
He wants him still—and with each shiver that runs through his lover’s body, with each heavy kiss and panted breath, the need sleeping in his veins pulses more urgently through him. It makes him arch against his husband, seeking to meet each heavy thrust just so as eagerness trembles through him in shallow little gasps.]
Cardan—
[He wants to tell him that he is Cardan’s, that Cardan can be as greedy and foolish and wicked and indulgent as he likes with him, because Liem cannot refuse him and has no desire to try. He wants to drown in his heated kisses and the glide of breath against his skin, in his husband’s ardour and unfettered desire. He wants to surrender to the tight clutch of his hand and the relentless, addictive way he moves inside him.
But his mouth is possessive as it maps Cardan’s lip, his jaw, and the fingers in Cardan’s hair grip tight as his lover claims him again, and again. Avarice fills him up, and his name on Cardan’s lips sets it ablaze.]
[ When Liem moves to meet his thrusts -- when his grip in Cardan's hair tightens, sending a delicious jolt of pain-pleasure down his spine -- it's all he can do to gasp, increasingly frantic with it. His eyes slide shut; every muscle in his body feels tight with need. It hurts, to want this much: his heart still feels bruised when it beats in his chest. But how could he possibly stop?
No, he has waited too long, has nearly lost too much. Liem's mouth on his heated skin is a balm against every fear. Cardan had meant to claim him, to mark him as his own-- yet it is Liem's claim on him that makes him shiver, helpless against the wave of emotion that tightens the back of his throat.
He is Liem's. He is his in some deep, animal way, much more feral and strange than any legal arrangement to exist between them. He belongs here, with Liem, making him laugh and groan and agree to foolish plans. He wants this. He wants to be-- ]
I'm going to come, [ he tells Liem, as solemnly as possible -- which is not very, given how heavily he's breathing. He can feel the white-hot pleasure of it, more inexorable each time he sinks into the tight grasp of Liem's body, fills him up with his greed and his desire and his endless longing. He smears his mouth over his lover's, the brush of his kisses haphazard and breathless.
And, because he's a fool, he opens his eyes just as orgasm overtakes him, shuddering through him like thunder. ]
[Cardan’s beauty always seems the most overwhelming to Liem, the most inescapable, when his lover is teetering right on the edge of climax just like this. Something about the way his elegant insouciance comes apart under the demands of his pleasure strikes Liem as singularly lovely; he could see him thus every evening and morning for a hundred years, and still never cease to be enchanted.
How foolish that when they first married, Liem was suspicious his strange, Faerie husband might catch him in some trap. No spell could do the job any better; Cardan has ensnared him already, just by being his.
When he does come, when Liem feels orgasm shudder through his lover as he clutches him tight, his own pleasure takes him by surprise. Desperate, hungry affection slams through him as Cardan comes undone atop him, so sudden Liem has to shut his eyes against it; he groans, then bucks against his husband as, for the second time, fear and need and sensation and terrible, unruly sentiment drag him over the edge of his climax.
It is only afterwards that Liem finally forces himself to relax his desperate grip on Cardan’s hand, and Cardan’s hair. But it is just to adjust his hold; he slides his arm back around his husband instead, too content to move even enough to burrow beneath the covers.
How he is ever going to convince himself to release Cardan again, he has no idea.]
[ He doesn’t expect it; Liem had just come, and Cardan hadn’t so much as touched him, too desperate in his pursuit of his own selfish greed. His eyes widen with it as he watches — feels Liem buck against him, tighten around him with near-painful eroticism. Desire claws at him, hammers in his throat, and the helpless moan that escapes him is too honest, too wanton, to unguarded. ]
Oh—
[ For a moment, he can’t breathe. And then he does, his gasps breaking against Liem’s pale cheek as he collapses against his lover. Only now do his eyes slide shut after all, at least until he can calm the unruly beating of his heart.
Some time later, once he regains coherent thought, he will lift their clasped hands and kiss each of Liem’s knuckles in turn, reverently. ]
You’ve been wrong all this time. You are the menace.
[For all that Liem’s troubles have not vanished or even diminished in the last hour, he cannot seem to care about a single one just now. The moment is too peaceful, the man in his embrace too enchanting in his post-coital languor. When Cardan lifts their joined hands to press soft kisses to Liem’s knuckles, a mix of affection and painful, hopeless longing makes Liem’s chest go tight.
The smile he directs at his husband is wry.]
Have I stolen your title? That doesn’t seem right.
[Not when Cardan takes such clear joy in menacing him thoroughly and often. By contrast, Liem cannot imagine how he could be considered particularly accomplished in that regard.
Though he will admit to being capable of applying himself.]
Perhaps you just aren’t accustomed to being on the receiving end.
[He wiggles his hips slightly against his husband, making a double entendre of the remark.]
Mm. [ His eyes flutter shut again as a sensitized little shiver dances up his spine. He has given up on seeing himself released from his desire for his husband, but it seems that he is yet vulnerable to being victimized also.
Though, with Liem, that never quite means what Cardan would expect it to.
He will regain his arrogance in a moment’s time, anyway, quirking a lazy eyebrow at Liem. ]
And why should I be?
I know where my talents lie.
[ The talents he had cultivated under Balekin’s thorny mentorship: cruelty, callousness, caprice. How lucky for him that his husband had only ever seemed to desire more of his vices.
Still, Liem menaces him indeed. It’s only that Cardan cannot tell him — cannot reveal how much it enchants him to have his lover mussed and loose-limbed in his arms, bare of the armor of impeccable tailoring and professional demands. Even exhausted as he feels, he wants him still. He wants him always.
His touch is a little wistful as it traces along Liem’s cheek, paints light fingertips over the lines of his mouth — the one thing he could not have tonight, at least not in the way he’d wanted. ]
[Even the playful arrogance in his husband’s manner cannot quite dispel the tender, enchanted feeling that has taken root in Liem’s chest as he looks up at his lover. Cardan ever fascinates him with the different facets he allows Liem to glimpse: his tenderness, his temper, his mischief, his pride. He is a whimsical companion, but as a spouse he is steadfast. He is sometimes quick to anger, but always greedy for Liem’s touch. He is plainly used to getting his way, but sometimes indulges Liem to his own detriment.
And even as he smirks lazily down at him, the fingers tracing the contours of Liem’s face remain gentle. Liem has never known anyone quite like him.]
It is never a bad thing to diversify one’s skillset.
[Liem’s lips murmur against warm, soft fingertips. He has to resist the urge to suck them into his mouth, because as much as he would like to, that would make carrying on a conversation challenging.
The gaze he directs up at his husband grows penetrating, though he remains languidly pleased.]
[ In some ways, that doesn't surprise him. He'd noted Liem's slyness from the last -- and first, really -- time that Cardan given him free rein over his pleasure. Back then, he had thought it opportunism; after all, Cardan had all but asked to be tormented.
Now, with Liem's intent gaze on his face, he is no longer so certain. ]
I don't think it suits me. I have always made for an ill-tempered victim.
[ He has never made for much of a victim at all, carnally speaking. He'd always ascribed it to his naturally intimidating qualities. The Folk who weren't afraid of him tended to not be particularly interested, on account of being too old and powerful to take up with spoiled princelings.
But Liem had never been intimidated by him, either. ]
[For some reason, Liem’s perception of his husband has never entirely lined up with how Cardan seems to expect he should see things. He is too dismissive of other Faeries’ opinions of the young prince, and too charmed by qualities Cardan seems to regard as unpleasant. Even his husband’s skepticism only encourages Liem’s intent regard to warm further, unapologetically content with this unpromising summation of his lover’s demeanour.
Opening his mouth, he tips his head just enough to grab Cardan’s fingertips playfully between his teeth. It’s only for a moment; after sliding his tongue against the tips of his captive fingers, he releases them again to press a kiss against those damp fingertips instead.]
I still like you when you’re ill-tempered.
[His hand finds Cardan’s cheek, strokes gently along it like he can’t quite believe he’s real; that he is flesh and blood, and that he still belongs to him even though Liem cannot fathom possessing something so rare.
It doesn’t matter that Cardan has complicated almost every aspect of his life, has made it more difficult and in some ways more dangerous. It doesn’t matter that he is proud and spiteful and demanding, and that he is sometimes disagreeable even with his own lover. No one else could make these things seem irresistible the way Cardan does. There is no one else Liem wishes to be with more.]
[ It's a little frightening, how predictably his breath catches at the soft threat of Liem's teeth on his skin, how immediately thralled he is by that irresistible mouth. Lust flares in his belly, not at all cowed by his recent release nor the way he aches in the aftermath of the poison.
Something about Liem's hand on his face makes his heart constrict, and that’s painful too.
He'll dip down to kiss him, eager to escape the feeling. He wants to be seduced by Liem's taste, by the sweetness of his kisses and the easy desire that quickens at his touch. He wants to think of those things, and not of the strange yearning he sometimes recognizes in his husband’s face, or how, even after all this time, Cardan so often fails to anticipate the thing Liem truly wants. But it has been a strange, difficult night; he does not feel quite like himself. Perhaps it is only that which lends his thoughts their morose tone, now. After all, he has never before let his anxieties distract him from the easy pleasure of his husband’s companionship.
Only after some time will Cardan pull back, a little breathless, to retort: ]
That's only because I've seduced you with my good looks and excellent taste in decorative lacework.
[ He'll flash his most roguish grin at Liem, just to prove the point. ]
[It is a testament to how easily Liem becomes lost in his husband, that the slide of Cardan’s mouth on his own manages to banish the thoughts from his head, even though he was powerless to quiet them himself. As long as Cardan keeps kissing him, as long as they are alone and tucked safely in each other’s embrace, no trouble in the world could touch him.
And even if, somewhere at the back of his mind, Liem knows that they must still contend with any number of terrible problems—right now, they seem small and unimportant compared to this. Of course they seem small, when confronted with the warmth of Cardan’s kisses and the dazzling immediacy of his familiar, roguish smile.
Liem’s mouth lifts at the corners, indulgently amused.]
Among other things.
[Liem considers it a major omission that Cardan didn’t include his mischief or his seemingly insatiable desire for physical affection, but perhaps his husband assumes these things go without saying. Sliding his fingers back into soft black hair, Liem leans up to kiss the corner of his husband’s smiling mouth.]
But you are right, of course. You certainly don’t become any less handsome when you’re cross.
[ He could spend forever like this, with pillow talk and Liem’s gentle hands, exchanging kisses like secrets between them. He wants to spend forever like this — or at least long enough for desire to close its tendrils around him again, sweet and certain. He doesn’t care that he’s tired; he doesn’t care about the hour, or the fact that the fire will eventually die in its hearth. He is here, and he is still alive, and the less he thinks about the things that might have happened, the better.
And still, he has to— ]
Liem. [ It sighs out of him, serious, even a little grave. He’s not sure Liem wants him to bring this up, either, and he certainly knows that words are cheap.
[He isn’t expecting the gravity that falls back over Cardan like a cloak. It’s unlike his husband to dwell on unpleasant things; Liem has always known him to avoid them unless he had no other choice, and move on at the first opportunity. When Cardan sighs soberly down at him, Liem’s easy contentment is interrupted completely, replaced with uncertainty.
He doesn’t know why Cardan is revisiting this.]
Yes, [he agrees.
He did save him, for the second time. Perhaps Cardan wouldn’t have had to field two different attempts on his life over the past half-year if he’d still lived in Balekin’s house… but then, perhaps he would have. Either way, he is under the protection of Liem’s house now, and Liem most specifically. If anyone is going to be saving Cardan’s life, it will most likely be him.
Also, the alternative doesn’t bear thinking about.]
[ The problem, of course, is that thanking Liem cheapens the act; how can he repay something so precious as his life with mere words? And yet, and still, he feels like he must acknowledge it somehow.
He leans his forehead against his lover’s, closes his eyes. ]
…it is a rare gift.
[ A difficult, heavy thing. But is it not also joyous? Does it not fill him with a strange, anxious pleasure, to know his husband cares for him thus? He cannot help but be greedy for this, too, much as he mislikes seeing Liem upset. ]
Your care and your concern alike. Do not think I value it cheaply.
[Despite his misgivings, Liem cannot help but crave the gentle contact of Cardan’s brow leant against his own. He has no desire to make his husband indebted to him for something he forced him into to begin with, but if this is how Cardan wishes to express his sentiments on the matter, Liem cannot object.
He supposes he can accept a little gratitude. After all, he doesn’t value Cardan’s life remotely cheaply; it would be insulting to expect nothing at all for his actions.]
That pleases me to hear.
[Cool fingers stroke gently through Cardan’s hair as Liem tips his face to brush his nose against his lover’s, his budding apprehension melting from him. For a moment, he is tempted to say something bold—tempted to think that if Cardan values his regard in that way, perhaps it might not be a terrible thing if he knew that he had his love, also. Perhaps he might even be happy.
But he cannot quite make himself believe it. It would be unfair to both of them for him to yearn for the impossible, instead of being happy with what he already has.]
[ It is far too little to wish for, for one. Abysmal as Liem’s standards for a lover seem to be, Cardan knows he has in him the capacity to be greedy. Is he not, in many ways, just as starved as Cardan himself? Is that not why they had fallen in step with each other so well in the first place?
Still, the relief that spreads from Liem’s soft touch is strange. He doesn’t understand it. Liem hadn’t asked for recognition; why was it so important that Cardan said this to him?
…well, whatever it is, now is not the time for self-examination. His mouth curls, louche and indulgent. ]
I desire so many more things from you.
[ This is true — even having been already gifted so much, he can never help wanting. But tonight, he has no desire to ask for anything Liem shouldn’t be prepared to give. Instead, he will move to press his hot, ardent mouth to Liem’s white throat, shivering at the sinuous shifting of their hips against each other as he does.
Even if Cardan has already claimed him, even if weariness weighs down his limbs — if tonight has taught him anything, it’s that their time together may be more transient than either of them thinks. It seems foolish to waste it on sleep. ]
[Cardan reveals one extent of Liem’s lie quickly and efficiently. His contentment of a moment before is interrupted immediately by the hot, irresistible press of his husband’s mouth to his throat; arching automatically, Liem tips his head with a small sigh to offer up the bare line of his neck, acutely aware of how obvious his instant distraction is. It’s like flicking a switch—one that lights his nerves with eagerness to be touched, making Cardan’s every movement against him impossible to ignore.]
Oh— Still?
[He breathes this, as though the conclusion of their recent intimacy provided any obstacle at all to his own ever-ready desire. There must be a limit, he thinks, even though they have consistently failed to find it. Perhaps if their lives were less busy with other things, less fraught with uncertainty, he might eventually have his fill of Cardan’s touch. But he cannot imagine a world in which that actually came to pass.
The hand in his lover’s hair becomes possessive, a jealous embrace urging him to remain there, painting kisses over Liem’s throat.]
I suppose you’ve caught me.
[In his lie; in Cardan’s clutches. Either way, Liem is equally pleased.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
He so rarely gets to see his lover look so tormented.]
You are ever the engineer of your own problems.
[He observes this, quiet with fondness, after a moment of breathless scrutiny. The fading of his urgency has only left more room for a growing, frighteningly tender desire—and despite still aching, shivery and oversensitive as he shifts against him, he cannot resist the impulse to press nearer with a soft noise, to kiss Cardan again. Deliberate, and sweet with longing.
He wants what Cardan demands, and more. He wants to belong to him, wants to be the object of not just his desire, but his obsession, his trust, his love. Liem’s wanting seems endless; it has harried him for months, growing louder each with each stolen night that Cardan is still by his side. He cannot imagine being free from it.
And yet, no matter how he might have wished to deny it, he also cannot recall a single time, before his marriage, that he ever felt this way.]
no subject
Liem is right. He has done this to himself. ]
...and what a terribly sweet torment it is.
[ But by the time he has pulled away enough to grin up at his husband, he will have recovered a little of his equilibrium. Not all of it -- not enough for his heart to cease hammering in his chest, nor for the tension to leave his body. The ache of wanting is almost unbearable. He breathes it against Liem's jaw, closing his eyes against its onslaught. ]
Your trousers.
[ He has no use for them now. And if they can shift Liem's attention for the next minute or so, all the better. ]
no subject
Because he can. And because nothing else could possibly be more important at this moment than loving him, however briefly he might have the chance to.
Longing throbs through Liem like pain from an open wound, too keen to be ignored. Though he cannot imagine it fails to show on his face, in the curve of his mouth or the plaintive hunger in his eyes, he still pulls away, rolling off his husband to prop himself just beside him instead. Cardan remains correct; his trousers still need to come off, and even Liem’s reluctance to peel himself from his lover cannot silence his insistent need to be finally, fully bare with him. Shoving his trousers impatiently down his legs, he strips as hurriedly as he can with just one hand.]
You distracted me.
[He’s still distracting him. But that is unlikely to change.]
no subject
I meant to.
[ His smile is a little rueful -- but only a little, because he doesn't actually regret it. ]
I want to be the sole object of your attention. Always.
My jealousy knows no reason.
[ And even so, even after Liem's trousers are off his body, he makes himself wait -- just a moment longer, just half a breath. Just enough to take him in one last time, bare and beautiful in his tousled vulnerability. His hand finds Liem's, intertwines their fingers again.
But his own yearning is too momentous -- like the roar of an avalanche, it will bury him if he doesn't act. He shifts his weight, moving so he is poised over his husband.
When Cardan presses him into the sheets, the feeling of relief is so intense it is nearly painful; he sighs with it, dipping close to bury his face against the pale column of Liem's throat. ]
None except you, [ Cardan tells him, not entirely sure that he's making sense anymore. He is distracted now -- caught up in his lover and his lust and the insistent, inescapable tenderness that fills his breast, pushing against his rib cage, so obvious that Liem will surely hear it on Cardan's heartbeat. ]
no subject
But he might forget now, just for a little while. He might lose sight of it in his husband’s dark, intent stare, in the warm fingers lacing with his, in the senseless murmur Cardan presses against his throat as he covers Liem with the weight of his body. The words pierce through him, a little painful; the longing filling his chest only aches harder, filling his lungs and constricting his throat with the intensity of his wanting.
Liem wraps an arm tight around him, every bit as jealous as his husband.]
You are so dangerous like this.
[Dangerous—and so terribly, inescapably precious. Liem tilts his head to press a kiss to Cardan’s temple, burying his nose in tousled raven curls, and murmurs into his hair.]
You’ll make me forget all my good sense.
no subject
Though he doubts that even magic could make Liem truly insensible. ]
You've had to use too much of it tonight, [ he will tell Liem, dragging himself up to his lover's face with a half-stifled gasp, unable to ignore the hot shiver of need he feels at the contact. The hand that isn't clasped in Liem's finds his hip, his thigh, curling greedy fingers over soft skin so he can urge him to bend his knee. To bare himself to Cardan -- so that Cardan may claim him once more, bury himself in him and forget about everything and everyone else.
He's so impatient with it; every second feels like torture. And yet, and yet-- ]
Be foolish with me for a while, husband.
no subject
Though he’s forced to acknowledge that he can’t recall a time when Cardan didn’t inspire such wants.]
Gladly.
[Liem doesn’t bother to suppress the pleasurable shiver that runs through him when Cardan shifts against his body. It feels like the easiest, most natural thing in the world to give in to his husband’s coaxing grip, to spread his legs and invite him in. Even now, he remains greedy for it; for him.
It’s easier still to tip his face up and claim that soft, smiling mouth with his, now that Cardan is so near. He may as well be foolish, now; may as well slide his fingers into his lover’s hair, may as well caress the warm hand clasped with his. May as well kiss him like he never wants to stop, because certainly Cardan must be used to that by now regardless.]
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He cannot wait. When he presses inside him, the noise he makes is of pure animal need. Even this is agonizing: every part of him feels aflame with urgency, and yet he must go slow. He's too taut with desire, too sensitive and eager. If he's not careful-- ]
Liem. [ His teeth sink into Liem's lip, this time: a sharp little nip. It's his punishment for driving Cardan insane. He cannot quite manage to be gentle; instead, his kisses are heavy, burdened with all of his many desires.
His free hand tangles in the sheets, white-knuckled. He takes a few more breaths before his hips pull back all the way, slowly, only to slam back inside his lover's body. And again. And again, setting a merciless, steady rhythm, and he has to gasp around each one. He's not going to last. He can't. But it's fine, it's fine, it must be fine, because surely nothing that has ever felt this perfect could be wrong. ]
Liem, [ he breathes against the corner of his mouth, and it's as close to a prayer as he's ever come. ]
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He wants him still—and with each shiver that runs through his lover’s body, with each heavy kiss and panted breath, the need sleeping in his veins pulses more urgently through him. It makes him arch against his husband, seeking to meet each heavy thrust just so as eagerness trembles through him in shallow little gasps.]
Cardan—
[He wants to tell him that he is Cardan’s, that Cardan can be as greedy and foolish and wicked and indulgent as he likes with him, because Liem cannot refuse him and has no desire to try. He wants to drown in his heated kisses and the glide of breath against his skin, in his husband’s ardour and unfettered desire. He wants to surrender to the tight clutch of his hand and the relentless, addictive way he moves inside him.
But his mouth is possessive as it maps Cardan’s lip, his jaw, and the fingers in Cardan’s hair grip tight as his lover claims him again, and again. Avarice fills him up, and his name on Cardan’s lips sets it ablaze.]
Mine. My Cardan.
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No, he has waited too long, has nearly lost too much. Liem's mouth on his heated skin is a balm against every fear. Cardan had meant to claim him, to mark him as his own-- yet it is Liem's claim on him that makes him shiver, helpless against the wave of emotion that tightens the back of his throat.
He is Liem's. He is his in some deep, animal way, much more feral and strange than any legal arrangement to exist between them. He belongs here, with Liem, making him laugh and groan and agree to foolish plans. He wants this. He wants to be-- ]
I'm going to come, [ he tells Liem, as solemnly as possible -- which is not very, given how heavily he's breathing. He can feel the white-hot pleasure of it, more inexorable each time he sinks into the tight grasp of Liem's body, fills him up with his greed and his desire and his endless longing. He smears his mouth over his lover's, the brush of his kisses haphazard and breathless.
And, because he's a fool, he opens his eyes just as orgasm overtakes him, shuddering through him like thunder. ]
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How foolish that when they first married, Liem was suspicious his strange, Faerie husband might catch him in some trap. No spell could do the job any better; Cardan has ensnared him already, just by being his.
When he does come, when Liem feels orgasm shudder through his lover as he clutches him tight, his own pleasure takes him by surprise. Desperate, hungry affection slams through him as Cardan comes undone atop him, so sudden Liem has to shut his eyes against it; he groans, then bucks against his husband as, for the second time, fear and need and sensation and terrible, unruly sentiment drag him over the edge of his climax.
It is only afterwards that Liem finally forces himself to relax his desperate grip on Cardan’s hand, and Cardan’s hair. But it is just to adjust his hold; he slides his arm back around his husband instead, too content to move even enough to burrow beneath the covers.
How he is ever going to convince himself to release Cardan again, he has no idea.]
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Oh—
[ For a moment, he can’t breathe. And then he does, his gasps breaking against Liem’s pale cheek as he collapses against his lover. Only now do his eyes slide shut after all, at least until he can calm the unruly beating of his heart.
Some time later, once he regains coherent thought, he will lift their clasped hands and kiss each of Liem’s knuckles in turn, reverently. ]
You’ve been wrong all this time. You are the menace.
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The smile he directs at his husband is wry.]
Have I stolen your title? That doesn’t seem right.
[Not when Cardan takes such clear joy in menacing him thoroughly and often. By contrast, Liem cannot imagine how he could be considered particularly accomplished in that regard.
Though he will admit to being capable of applying himself.]
Perhaps you just aren’t accustomed to being on the receiving end.
[He wiggles his hips slightly against his husband, making a double entendre of the remark.]
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Though, with Liem, that never quite means what Cardan would expect it to.
He will regain his arrogance in a moment’s time, anyway, quirking a lazy eyebrow at Liem. ]
And why should I be?
I know where my talents lie.
[ The talents he had cultivated under Balekin’s thorny mentorship: cruelty, callousness, caprice. How lucky for him that his husband had only ever seemed to desire more of his vices.
Still, Liem menaces him indeed. It’s only that Cardan cannot tell him — cannot reveal how much it enchants him to have his lover mussed and loose-limbed in his arms, bare of the armor of impeccable tailoring and professional demands. Even exhausted as he feels, he wants him still. He wants him always.
His touch is a little wistful as it traces along Liem’s cheek, paints light fingertips over the lines of his mouth — the one thing he could not have tonight, at least not in the way he’d wanted. ]
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And even as he smirks lazily down at him, the fingers tracing the contours of Liem’s face remain gentle. Liem has never known anyone quite like him.]
It is never a bad thing to diversify one’s skillset.
[Liem’s lips murmur against warm, soft fingertips. He has to resist the urge to suck them into his mouth, because as much as he would like to, that would make carrying on a conversation challenging.
The gaze he directs up at his husband grows penetrating, though he remains languidly pleased.]
Besides, I like being able to menace you.
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[ In some ways, that doesn't surprise him. He'd noted Liem's slyness from the last -- and first, really -- time that Cardan given him free rein over his pleasure. Back then, he had thought it opportunism; after all, Cardan had all but asked to be tormented.
Now, with Liem's intent gaze on his face, he is no longer so certain. ]
I don't think it suits me. I have always made for an ill-tempered victim.
[ He has never made for much of a victim at all, carnally speaking. He'd always ascribed it to his naturally intimidating qualities. The Folk who weren't afraid of him tended to not be particularly interested, on account of being too old and powerful to take up with spoiled princelings.
But Liem had never been intimidated by him, either. ]
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Opening his mouth, he tips his head just enough to grab Cardan’s fingertips playfully between his teeth. It’s only for a moment; after sliding his tongue against the tips of his captive fingers, he releases them again to press a kiss against those damp fingertips instead.]
I still like you when you’re ill-tempered.
[His hand finds Cardan’s cheek, strokes gently along it like he can’t quite believe he’s real; that he is flesh and blood, and that he still belongs to him even though Liem cannot fathom possessing something so rare.
It doesn’t matter that Cardan has complicated almost every aspect of his life, has made it more difficult and in some ways more dangerous. It doesn’t matter that he is proud and spiteful and demanding, and that he is sometimes disagreeable even with his own lover. No one else could make these things seem irresistible the way Cardan does. There is no one else Liem wishes to be with more.]
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Something about Liem's hand on his face makes his heart constrict, and that’s painful too.
He'll dip down to kiss him, eager to escape the feeling. He wants to be seduced by Liem's taste, by the sweetness of his kisses and the easy desire that quickens at his touch. He wants to think of those things, and not of the strange yearning he sometimes recognizes in his husband’s face, or how, even after all this time, Cardan so often fails to anticipate the thing Liem truly wants. But it has been a strange, difficult night; he does not feel quite like himself. Perhaps it is only that which lends his thoughts their morose tone, now. After all, he has never before let his anxieties distract him from the easy pleasure of his husband’s companionship.
Only after some time will Cardan pull back, a little breathless, to retort: ]
That's only because I've seduced you with my good looks and excellent taste in decorative lacework.
[ He'll flash his most roguish grin at Liem, just to prove the point. ]
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And even if, somewhere at the back of his mind, Liem knows that they must still contend with any number of terrible problems—right now, they seem small and unimportant compared to this. Of course they seem small, when confronted with the warmth of Cardan’s kisses and the dazzling immediacy of his familiar, roguish smile.
Liem’s mouth lifts at the corners, indulgently amused.]
Among other things.
[Liem considers it a major omission that Cardan didn’t include his mischief or his seemingly insatiable desire for physical affection, but perhaps his husband assumes these things go without saying. Sliding his fingers back into soft black hair, Liem leans up to kiss the corner of his husband’s smiling mouth.]
But you are right, of course. You certainly don’t become any less handsome when you’re cross.
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And still, he has to— ]
Liem. [ It sighs out of him, serious, even a little grave. He’s not sure Liem wants him to bring this up, either, and he certainly knows that words are cheap.
He says it anyway. ]
You saved me.
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He doesn’t know why Cardan is revisiting this.]
Yes, [he agrees.
He did save him, for the second time. Perhaps Cardan wouldn’t have had to field two different attempts on his life over the past half-year if he’d still lived in Balekin’s house… but then, perhaps he would have. Either way, he is under the protection of Liem’s house now, and Liem most specifically. If anyone is going to be saving Cardan’s life, it will most likely be him.
Also, the alternative doesn’t bear thinking about.]
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He leans his forehead against his lover’s, closes his eyes. ]
…it is a rare gift.
[ A difficult, heavy thing. But is it not also joyous? Does it not fill him with a strange, anxious pleasure, to know his husband cares for him thus? He cannot help but be greedy for this, too, much as he mislikes seeing Liem upset. ]
Your care and your concern alike. Do not think I value it cheaply.
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He supposes he can accept a little gratitude. After all, he doesn’t value Cardan’s life remotely cheaply; it would be insulting to expect nothing at all for his actions.]
That pleases me to hear.
[Cool fingers stroke gently through Cardan’s hair as Liem tips his face to brush his nose against his lover’s, his budding apprehension melting from him. For a moment, he is tempted to say something bold—tempted to think that if Cardan values his regard in that way, perhaps it might not be a terrible thing if he knew that he had his love, also. Perhaps he might even be happy.
But he cannot quite make himself believe it. It would be unfair to both of them for him to yearn for the impossible, instead of being happy with what he already has.]
I couldn’t wish for anything more.
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[ It is far too little to wish for, for one. Abysmal as Liem’s standards for a lover seem to be, Cardan knows he has in him the capacity to be greedy. Is he not, in many ways, just as starved as Cardan himself? Is that not why they had fallen in step with each other so well in the first place?
Still, the relief that spreads from Liem’s soft touch is strange. He doesn’t understand it. Liem hadn’t asked for recognition; why was it so important that Cardan said this to him?
…well, whatever it is, now is not the time for self-examination. His mouth curls, louche and indulgent. ]
I desire so many more things from you.
[ This is true — even having been already gifted so much, he can never help wanting. But tonight, he has no desire to ask for anything Liem shouldn’t be prepared to give. Instead, he will move to press his hot, ardent mouth to Liem’s white throat, shivering at the sinuous shifting of their hips against each other as he does.
Even if Cardan has already claimed him, even if weariness weighs down his limbs — if tonight has taught him anything, it’s that their time together may be more transient than either of them thinks. It seems foolish to waste it on sleep. ]
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Oh— Still?
[He breathes this, as though the conclusion of their recent intimacy provided any obstacle at all to his own ever-ready desire. There must be a limit, he thinks, even though they have consistently failed to find it. Perhaps if their lives were less busy with other things, less fraught with uncertainty, he might eventually have his fill of Cardan’s touch. But he cannot imagine a world in which that actually came to pass.
The hand in his lover’s hair becomes possessive, a jealous embrace urging him to remain there, painting kisses over Liem’s throat.]
I suppose you’ve caught me.
[In his lie; in Cardan’s clutches. Either way, Liem is equally pleased.]
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