[ Liem's tormented wriggling atop him is ever delicious, not to mention distracting; he shuts his eyes, briefly, at the tease of it. It is truly a miracle that Liem has not yet realized just how enamoured Cardan is with him, with his cool hands and his rare bouts of mischief. Or maybe he has -- maybe he knows that Cardan lets him take liberties that he would allow from no one else. Certainly, he could not have missed Cardan's unerring focus on him over the span of their marriage.
Cardan is looking at him now, even as he uncaps the small bottle, even as he traces down the line of Liem's spine with warm, oil-slicked fingers, his touch deliberately light and unhurried. He watches the desire his usually temperate husband fails to conceal, the frustration it so thrills him to see, that familiar wry smile.
And when his fingers wander lower, when they press inside his lover, his own smile is warm with pleasure. ]
No, [ he'll tell Liem, not bothering to hide his affection, ] I suppose you don't have to be patient at all.
[ After all, it won't make a difference: whether he's patient or eager, Liem will be subject to Cardan's whims all the same. ]
[Liem doesn’t know when Cardan began to look at him with such warmth, or when his touch began to feel like relief, but Liem shivers into the slide of those fingers like he’s been waiting for them for days. He swallows, alight with insatiable, ever-present greed for this man who regards him with such inexplicable fondness. His husband is so dangerous like this. He could demand from Liem anything he wished, as long as he kept looking like that, kept sounding like that, soft with affection and indulgence.]
I don’t know how you do this to me.
[He murmurs it between panted breaths, restless and distracted with want. How does Cardan destroy his composure so effortlessly, every single time? He wasn’t ever like this, before; he had self-restraint. Now, the pleasure of being tangled in his lover’s whims feels like drowning. He doesn’t know how to stop, or even make himself want to try.
So he doesn’t. He only dips close again to stamp fevered kisses over Cardan’s jaw, his cheekbone, his temple, his ear. He doesn’t need to be patient, after all. He only needs to be Cardan’s.]
[ Cardan doesn't know how he does it, either. He doesn't know how he weathers it when Liem gets like this, frantic and fervent with his impatience. And, as always, Liem's mouth is his undoing -- somehow even here, even like this, when his husband is kissing him with haphazard tenderness rather than with sharp-edged, dangerous hunger.
He feels a wanting sound, nearly a whine, catch at the back of his throat. It doesn't matter that he's just come; it doesn't matter that all they've really done since then is kiss and fuck around. He cannot be here, with Liem so restless and full of desire in his lap, and not be a little insane about it. He's been home for too short a time, has had too few mornings alone with his husband yet. ]
I don't know, [ he sighs, between kisses, ] why we ever do anything besides fucking. We're so incredible at it.
[ And he so wants to fuck Liem now. His tail coils atop the sheets -- harried with his own insistent need -- even as oil-slick digits fuck into Liem, intent on working him open. ]
[If Liem can find any comfort in his own irrepressible need for his husband, it is that Cardan seems at least to be afflicted with the same malady. For every hungry touch and longing kiss he has ever given his husband, Cardan has always met his greed with more of his own. Sometimes Liem wonders if there is any limit to Cardan’s desire for intimacy, or if, like Liem, he is cursed with the feverish need for more, no matter how he indulges his hunger.]
Politics, [Liem mutters disgustedly, like a curse. Everything that makes his life more difficult always seems to come back to politics; if not for that, he imagines he and Cardan could spend all night in each other’s arms as often as they wanted.
He doesn’t bother following this train of thought. It seems so much more important to catch Cardan’s mouth in kiss after breathless kiss, stuttered and haphazard as the pleasure of those insistent fingers rolls up his spine in languidly-building waves. He would rather focus on the lush softness of Cardan’s mouth, and the tease of his hurrying pulse, and the warm, lean shape of Cardan beneath him.]
There is never a time, during any night [—Liem gasps against Cardan’s lips, hard and aching and impossibly impatient with it—] that I don’t wish we were making love instead.
[ Making love catches him by surprise, making his thoughts stutter. Which is stupid: it is only a figure of speech, and hardly the first time Liem has shared some heartbreakingly tender sentiment when overcome with lust. His husband is fond of romance, after all.
But that doesn't make it any less potent. It doesn't change the sharp pang of confused yearning that radiates out from Cardan's chest. It doesn't make him stop wanting Liem, who's on top of him and wrapped around him, whose body is too tight around his fingers, who kisses him with such urgent, breathless need. ]
Liem. [ He can't help the hard little shiver that runs through him. It's impossible not to be pulled in by the magnetism of Liem's desire; the way he is now, Cardan has to grit his teeth not to be swept away by it entirely. His fingers slip into soft brown hair, cradling the back of his husband's head so that he may not pull away even for a moment. ]
I want you. Liem-- [ He breaks off on the edge of a moan, smearing unfocused kisses over the line of his lover's jaw. How can he weather both Liem's impatience and his own? How could anyone? ]
[When Cardan had suggested keeping him occupied, Liem had assumed his husband meant to torment him for the intervening time until he was able to grant Liem’s wish. He doesn’t think he was wrong about this, but more and more, as Cardan pants and shivers beneath him, works him open and clutches him close, Liem suspects his husband is experiencing more than a little torment himself.
It makes Liem feel a little magic—the way he can pull such desperation out of Cardan, no matter what they are doing or how recently he has come. He never expects it, even after all these months. To think that he could captivate anyone thus.]
You have me, [he murmurs, warm voice and cool breath tickling Cardan’s pointed ear. Closeness and pleasure pool in his belly, intoxicating, as he squirms in his husband’s lap. He wants to stay here like this forever; he also wants so badly to be fucked that he can’t think of anything else.]
All for your own. [He nuzzles breathless kisses over Cardan’s skin, wherever he can reach. Lust pounds through him like an avalanche.] Cardan. Have me.
[ Cardan's eyes slide shut, heavy with the longing that arcs through him, crawling up his throat. Its greedy fingers whisper down his spine when Liem's breath caresses his ear, make his erection throb with urgent heat. If he has Liem, then Liem certainly owns him -- more thoroughly and completely than anyone else ever had. ]
You are ever generous, [ he murmurs, his voice a little rough with it, though his mouth quirks in self-deprecation, ] to indulge my greed.
[ He forces himself not to rush, nonetheless. Cardan is careful when he pulls his fingers from Liem's body, almost leisurely when he splays his hands over his slim hips -- directing him to move up so he's poised over Cardan's cock. They have both waited so long; even though he's just come, it feels like he's been awash in desire for an eternity and a half.
And still-- ]
Slowly, [ he instructs, and the look he directs at Liem is a little calculating. He wants him to take his time, wants to torment both of them just a little longer. And when Liem has, when he's taken the length of Cardan's cock, Cardan wants to hold him there -- his hands firm, suddenly, even as his heart threatens to hammer out of his chest, as he struggles to breathe against the dizzying onslaught of sensation. ]
[Liem doesn’t feel generous when he moves against Cardan, when he paints his skin with kisses and tells him to take everything he wants. He feels hungry, desperate and eager for his touch. He needs Cardan’s affection and greedy desire just as keenly as Cardan needs to sate it. His skin feels primed for it, so ready for touch that the absence of Cardan’s body pressed against his would be intolerable.
Which makes it difficult, now, to wait any further. He has been hard for Cardan since he was first laid down on the bed, and his patience has been stretched to its limit during tease after tease. When Cardan slides his fingers free and guides him onto his cock, it is all Liem can do not to sink down all at once, no matter what his husband says.
But he does go slowly, with a soft sound that is too bare with longing. Liem’s fingers curl greedily against Cardan’s chest as he takes him in, inch by torturous inch, trembling with the leashed desire to squirm against him as he seats himself snugly in Cardan’s lap. His husband’s thundering pulse drums against his ears, mirroring his own frantic urgency, if not the actual beating of his heart.
From between uneven breaths, he mutters,] From where comes this sudden patience?
[He thought his husband had eschewed such things.]
[ Cardan's laugh is a huff of warm breath against Liem's cheek. ] From you.
[ Where else? Who else could have taught him to want this -- this strange, difficult pleasure, the frantic fluttering of his heart pulsing through his throat, his belly, his cock. He feels drawn taut like a bowstring. Every muscle in his body fights against the urge to move, to fuck up into Liem's tight body, to give them both what they have wanted for the better part of the hour.
He exhales, a little shaky, and brushes his mouth over the slant of Liem's cheek, feather-light. His hands on Liem remain resolute. ]
You made me like this. I lay my newfound perversion at your feet, husband.
[ He sounds mostly smug about this -- even if his breath hitches on every couple of words. Despite his bravado, he cannot wait much longer. He swallows, braces himself, and then rolls his hips upward, against his lover. It makes him gasp, makes him clutch at Liem, makes strain colour his voice. ]
I love-- tormenting you... ah... want you to remember what we feel like--
[ Together, just like this, with Cardan sheathed snugly inside Liem like he's always belonged there. Like they should never be apart at all. ]
[Over the several months of their marriage, Liem has experienced many intimacies with Cardan—some that he’d never imagined sharing with anyone, much less him. He has again and again been surprised by the depth of closeness they manage to share, and by the degree of tenderness he receives from the prince he met only last summer.
Again, he finds a startled kind of pleasure taking up residence next to his heart. When Cardan finally fucks into him, he almost whines with how much he wants to move against him too, how eager his body is to ride him, to feel him again—but he doesn’t. Instead he presses his face against the feverish curve of his husband’s neck, strangely overcome by the thought of his intemperate husband casting immediate gratification aside simply to savour the way they fit together.]
Ha… [He stamps a breathless kiss against Cardan’s shoulder, trying to drown the sentiment welling up beneath his breastbone: that they belong together; that he could keep Cardan at his side and in his arms for the rest of his life.] I couldn’t forget… if I tried…
[A month’s absence couldn’t keep him from longing for Cardan’s touch every single day and night; he cannot fathom not wanting it anymore, not wanting more of this. Not when Cardan sounds like that, feels like that, holds him like that and says you with a cadence that makes Liem feel unlike anyone else in the world.]
[ It proves overwhelming, in the end: the soft brush of Liem's mouth on his bare skin, his gentle voice and breathless eagerness. Tenderness fills Cardan up and scours him raw; he grits his teeth against it, a little desperate. He can't-- He can't take it, not like this. His palms whisper up Liem's flanks, fingertips tracing the way his ribs expand with the strange rhythm of breaths he doesn't really need. ]
Then remind me, [ he demands, and that feels raw, too. His hands tremble a little with the terrible, delicious torture of keeping still. It feels strange that he should have hold of something so precious, that Liem should feel so solid under his touch, so real and alive and Cardan's, through some stroke of luck he has never understood.
He tilts his face, his mouth finding Liem's temple, his ear. ]
Remind me what it's like to have you, Liem.
[ He's going to last an embarrassingly short time, he knows. It suddenly matters not at all. ]
[The warmth of Cardan’s voice brushing his ear can’t help but send a shiver down Liem’s spine and have want pulsing low in his belly, impossible to ignore. His husband is too irresistible like this, with gentleness sneaking into his touch beneath the hungry demands of his words. Liem is liable to forget just how impermanent their union really is—to start believing that Cardan would stay with him forever. That he would actually want to.
The soft, yearning part of him already has.]
Like this…
[Liem slides a hand up Cardan’s chest, skimming his neck to cradle his cheek as he tilts his own face toward him, claiming a soft, longing kiss. His own helpless need prevents him from lingering long; he has to move, has to pull away to find the leverage he needs. But his eyes remain steady on Cardan’s, hungry for the sight of him as he shifts his weight and then begins to ride him, slow and torturously deliberate.
It reminds him of the very first time he’d let Cardan fuck him, except that back then he’d contented himself with only his husband’s desire. Now, he wants everything Cardan has to give him, no matter how selfish or unlikely.]
[ He is already so overcome— maybe that’s why Cardan is unprepared for it when Liem lays eyes on him. He’s the one who watches, most of the time; Liem has always seemed to prefer being close instead. But those bright eyes pierce him, pin him, make something tremulous and wanton come to life in his veins. When Liem moves, when he makes Cardan’s breath slide out of him in a hot, heartfelt groan— for once, all he can do is hold on to him, to stroke restless hands over his skin and feel him move, within and without.
He turns to kiss the cool palm on his face, to drag his mouth with its intemperate, hot breath up the length of Liem’s slim fingers. And he doesn’t look away: not when sensation makes his lashes dip low; not when flushed desire softens the habitual arrogance in his expression. He certainly doesn’t look away when he bucks up, timed just as Liem fucks down on him, even though it makes him shiver and suck in an urgent breath just as well.
He’s so terribly helpless against his desire. He cannot even be rueful about it. ]
I’m not—
[ He laughs, breathless and a little incredulous. ] I can’t… ah… Liem…
[Liem had little enough restraint left already, between his taste of Cardan’s blood and the teasing he’d spent so long willingly enduring from his lover. He has been desperate for Cardan’s touch for what felt like hours, his desire driven relentlessly higher but never given release—and now, when Cardan groans like that, when he looks at him like that, flushed and wanting and earnest—
Liem feels his longing crash down on him all at once.
He feels it in the groan that tears out of him as Cardan bucks up to meet him, and in the hot flare of lust that throbs through his veins, making his hips stutter and his eyes lose their focus. He swallows against it, a little lost as he swims through the lush, overflowing tide of sensation, and feels a helpless bloom of affection squeeze his chest for the man staring so breathlessly, irresistibly back at him.
In the end, he cannot withstand it. He is drowning in sentiments that cannot be allowed past his lips, and ablaze with pleasure that has been wildly urgent for longer than he’d thought possible. He can only fuck down onto him again, and again, his eyes caught tight by his lover’s, and drive their rhythm hard enough that he cannot possibly gasp anything but Cardan’s name.
[ Pleasure sears through him, fanned by Liem's voice and the ruthless movement of his hips, so powerful he has to bite his lip to keep from crying out with it. He feels the pulse of it in his throat, his abdomen, his cock, frantic and ceaseless. He cannot breathe, and he cannot think; the only thing that matters is Liem, wild and beautiful as he rides him.
But then, he's the only thing that's mattered to Cardan for quite some time.
His fingers find Liem's erection, his grip feverish in his urgency. The strokes are not particularly coordinated, but it doesn't matter -- Cardan just wants to touch him, just wants him to be as desperately close as he himself is, racing inevitably toward the precipice of his orgasm. As always, he wants it to last longer; as always, he's greedy for more of this, more of his husband's unfettered lust and unexpected longing. ]
...breathtaking... you're--
[ But it's far too late. He doesn't finish the thought, his voice breaking off with a helpless gasp. His eyes fall shut. Everything is heat and pleasure and friction. It winds tight inside him like a spring, seizing every muscle in his body -- he sucks in a breath, then another, and then his climax thunders through him, making his hand twist in the sheets as he presses inside the tight grasp of Liem's body one last time. ]
[He is already so close by the time Cardan wraps warm fingers around his cock, to stroke him onward with hungry, haphazard urgency. Just the frantic rhythms of his pulse, his breathing, just the intoxicating scent of him, just the sight of him flushed and wanting as Liem rides him makes need throb beneath Liem’s skin. When he feels Cardan touch him, the moan that slips from his throat is unforgivably indulgent.
It is all far, far too much. When Cardan goes taut beneath him, overwhelmed and beautiful as he fucks up into him again, pleasure rolls through Liem all at once, swelling until he’s filled up and desperate with it.]
Oh, fuck—
[He dips closer as he comes, unable to resist the want to be near—to breathe Cardan in, to feel his heat, to touch him in every way he can. Not even the frantic need to ride through his orgasm for as long as possible can keep him from this; in the end, he stills atop his lover with his hand splayed over his ribs, his head sinking down to nestle in the crook of his neck.]
So unfair… that you’re like this, [he murmurs against Cardan’s collarbone. He cannot think properly with the image of Cardan’s hungry, heavy-lidded gaze stamped against the inside of his eyelids. It is inconceivable that he could ever recall how to function again without Cardan haunting all his thoughts.]
But you made me like this, [ Cardan tells him, breathlessly amused. It's a good cover for the way his heart still flutters like a trapped bird in his chest. It is mad, he imagines, to feel this sick with longing for a man he's just come inside of -- a man he's wed and promised and bound to, in more ways than one.
He doesn't have to ask himself why he feels this. He knows, he knows. In the end, he cannot help but be greedy for Liem's love as well as his desire, his devotion, his dutiful care. It's just that neither of them have time to contend with Cardan's feelings while trying to unseat Dain as his father's heir. It's just that he's afraid of how Liem might react to be told at all.
So he only turns his head to nuzzle his husband's hair and stroke down the line of his back, while he tries to catch his breath. Pleasurable little shivers dance over his skin, still, where Liem's face presses against his throat. His smile curves against Liem's temple, even as Cardan's arms slide around him. ]
[His voice is a muffled murmur, still tucked against the warm curve of Cardan’s neck. Liem has no desire to remedy this.]
I shirk my responsibilities with some regularity, to indulge my desire to be alone with you.
[Is this what Cardan meant? No, but Liem’s point is that his new husband has clearly been a bad influence on him. Why else would his work seem so interminable of late, and Cardan’s mischief so increasingly inviting? There is ever more to be done, and the more responsibilities Liem finds piled on his desk, the less he wants to think about any of them. He is so weary of it all; he just wants to stay here, in Cardan’s arms, where their troubles seem so much more remote, and Cardan’s affection makes itself so unassailably real.
For now, this is exactly what he will do. It is yet day; he is well within his rights to linger in his husband’s embrace, to crawl beneath the covers with him and fall asleep to the gentle whisper of his slowing breaths. And if he must pry himself free again in the evening, as on every evening, he will not think about that just now. Night will fall soon enough with or without his fretful anticipation.]
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Cardan is looking at him now, even as he uncaps the small bottle, even as he traces down the line of Liem's spine with warm, oil-slicked fingers, his touch deliberately light and unhurried. He watches the desire his usually temperate husband fails to conceal, the frustration it so thrills him to see, that familiar wry smile.
And when his fingers wander lower, when they press inside his lover, his own smile is warm with pleasure. ]
No, [ he'll tell Liem, not bothering to hide his affection, ] I suppose you don't have to be patient at all.
[ After all, it won't make a difference: whether he's patient or eager, Liem will be subject to Cardan's whims all the same. ]
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I don’t know how you do this to me.
[He murmurs it between panted breaths, restless and distracted with want. How does Cardan destroy his composure so effortlessly, every single time? He wasn’t ever like this, before; he had self-restraint. Now, the pleasure of being tangled in his lover’s whims feels like drowning. He doesn’t know how to stop, or even make himself want to try.
So he doesn’t. He only dips close again to stamp fevered kisses over Cardan’s jaw, his cheekbone, his temple, his ear. He doesn’t need to be patient, after all. He only needs to be Cardan’s.]
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He feels a wanting sound, nearly a whine, catch at the back of his throat. It doesn't matter that he's just come; it doesn't matter that all they've really done since then is kiss and fuck around. He cannot be here, with Liem so restless and full of desire in his lap, and not be a little insane about it. He's been home for too short a time, has had too few mornings alone with his husband yet. ]
I don't know, [ he sighs, between kisses, ] why we ever do anything besides fucking. We're so incredible at it.
[ And he so wants to fuck Liem now. His tail coils atop the sheets -- harried with his own insistent need -- even as oil-slick digits fuck into Liem, intent on working him open. ]
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Politics, [Liem mutters disgustedly, like a curse. Everything that makes his life more difficult always seems to come back to politics; if not for that, he imagines he and Cardan could spend all night in each other’s arms as often as they wanted.
He doesn’t bother following this train of thought. It seems so much more important to catch Cardan’s mouth in kiss after breathless kiss, stuttered and haphazard as the pleasure of those insistent fingers rolls up his spine in languidly-building waves. He would rather focus on the lush softness of Cardan’s mouth, and the tease of his hurrying pulse, and the warm, lean shape of Cardan beneath him.]
There is never a time, during any night [—Liem gasps against Cardan’s lips, hard and aching and impossibly impatient with it—] that I don’t wish we were making love instead.
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But that doesn't make it any less potent. It doesn't change the sharp pang of confused yearning that radiates out from Cardan's chest. It doesn't make him stop wanting Liem, who's on top of him and wrapped around him, whose body is too tight around his fingers, who kisses him with such urgent, breathless need. ]
Liem. [ He can't help the hard little shiver that runs through him. It's impossible not to be pulled in by the magnetism of Liem's desire; the way he is now, Cardan has to grit his teeth not to be swept away by it entirely. His fingers slip into soft brown hair, cradling the back of his husband's head so that he may not pull away even for a moment. ]
I want you. Liem-- [ He breaks off on the edge of a moan, smearing unfocused kisses over the line of his lover's jaw. How can he weather both Liem's impatience and his own? How could anyone? ]
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It makes Liem feel a little magic—the way he can pull such desperation out of Cardan, no matter what they are doing or how recently he has come. He never expects it, even after all these months. To think that he could captivate anyone thus.]
You have me, [he murmurs, warm voice and cool breath tickling Cardan’s pointed ear. Closeness and pleasure pool in his belly, intoxicating, as he squirms in his husband’s lap. He wants to stay here like this forever; he also wants so badly to be fucked that he can’t think of anything else.]
All for your own. [He nuzzles breathless kisses over Cardan’s skin, wherever he can reach. Lust pounds through him like an avalanche.] Cardan. Have me.
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You are ever generous, [ he murmurs, his voice a little rough with it, though his mouth quirks in self-deprecation, ] to indulge my greed.
[ He forces himself not to rush, nonetheless. Cardan is careful when he pulls his fingers from Liem's body, almost leisurely when he splays his hands over his slim hips -- directing him to move up so he's poised over Cardan's cock. They have both waited so long; even though he's just come, it feels like he's been awash in desire for an eternity and a half.
And still-- ]
Slowly, [ he instructs, and the look he directs at Liem is a little calculating. He wants him to take his time, wants to torment both of them just a little longer. And when Liem has, when he's taken the length of Cardan's cock, Cardan wants to hold him there -- his hands firm, suddenly, even as his heart threatens to hammer out of his chest, as he struggles to breathe against the dizzying onslaught of sensation. ]
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Which makes it difficult, now, to wait any further. He has been hard for Cardan since he was first laid down on the bed, and his patience has been stretched to its limit during tease after tease. When Cardan slides his fingers free and guides him onto his cock, it is all Liem can do not to sink down all at once, no matter what his husband says.
But he does go slowly, with a soft sound that is too bare with longing. Liem’s fingers curl greedily against Cardan’s chest as he takes him in, inch by torturous inch, trembling with the leashed desire to squirm against him as he seats himself snugly in Cardan’s lap. His husband’s thundering pulse drums against his ears, mirroring his own frantic urgency, if not the actual beating of his heart.
From between uneven breaths, he mutters,] From where comes this sudden patience?
[He thought his husband had eschewed such things.]
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[ Where else? Who else could have taught him to want this -- this strange, difficult pleasure, the frantic fluttering of his heart pulsing through his throat, his belly, his cock. He feels drawn taut like a bowstring. Every muscle in his body fights against the urge to move, to fuck up into Liem's tight body, to give them both what they have wanted for the better part of the hour.
He exhales, a little shaky, and brushes his mouth over the slant of Liem's cheek, feather-light. His hands on Liem remain resolute. ]
You made me like this. I lay my newfound perversion at your feet, husband.
[ He sounds mostly smug about this -- even if his breath hitches on every couple of words. Despite his bravado, he cannot wait much longer. He swallows, braces himself, and then rolls his hips upward, against his lover. It makes him gasp, makes him clutch at Liem, makes strain colour his voice. ]
I love-- tormenting you... ah... want you to remember what we feel like--
[ Together, just like this, with Cardan sheathed snugly inside Liem like he's always belonged there. Like they should never be apart at all. ]
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Again, he finds a startled kind of pleasure taking up residence next to his heart. When Cardan finally fucks into him, he almost whines with how much he wants to move against him too, how eager his body is to ride him, to feel him again—but he doesn’t. Instead he presses his face against the feverish curve of his husband’s neck, strangely overcome by the thought of his intemperate husband casting immediate gratification aside simply to savour the way they fit together.]
Ha… [He stamps a breathless kiss against Cardan’s shoulder, trying to drown the sentiment welling up beneath his breastbone: that they belong together; that he could keep Cardan at his side and in his arms for the rest of his life.] I couldn’t forget… if I tried…
[A month’s absence couldn’t keep him from longing for Cardan’s touch every single day and night; he cannot fathom not wanting it anymore, not wanting more of this. Not when Cardan sounds like that, feels like that, holds him like that and says you with a cadence that makes Liem feel unlike anyone else in the world.]
Cardan…
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[ It proves overwhelming, in the end: the soft brush of Liem's mouth on his bare skin, his gentle voice and breathless eagerness. Tenderness fills Cardan up and scours him raw; he grits his teeth against it, a little desperate. He can't-- He can't take it, not like this. His palms whisper up Liem's flanks, fingertips tracing the way his ribs expand with the strange rhythm of breaths he doesn't really need. ]
Then remind me, [ he demands, and that feels raw, too. His hands tremble a little with the terrible, delicious torture of keeping still. It feels strange that he should have hold of something so precious, that Liem should feel so solid under his touch, so real and alive and Cardan's, through some stroke of luck he has never understood.
He tilts his face, his mouth finding Liem's temple, his ear. ]
Remind me what it's like to have you, Liem.
[ He's going to last an embarrassingly short time, he knows. It suddenly matters not at all. ]
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The soft, yearning part of him already has.]
Like this…
[Liem slides a hand up Cardan’s chest, skimming his neck to cradle his cheek as he tilts his own face toward him, claiming a soft, longing kiss. His own helpless need prevents him from lingering long; he has to move, has to pull away to find the leverage he needs. But his eyes remain steady on Cardan’s, hungry for the sight of him as he shifts his weight and then begins to ride him, slow and torturously deliberate.
It reminds him of the very first time he’d let Cardan fuck him, except that back then he’d contented himself with only his husband’s desire. Now, he wants everything Cardan has to give him, no matter how selfish or unlikely.]
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He turns to kiss the cool palm on his face, to drag his mouth with its intemperate, hot breath up the length of Liem’s slim fingers. And he doesn’t look away: not when sensation makes his lashes dip low; not when flushed desire softens the habitual arrogance in his expression. He certainly doesn’t look away when he bucks up, timed just as Liem fucks down on him, even though it makes him shiver and suck in an urgent breath just as well.
He’s so terribly helpless against his desire. He cannot even be rueful about it. ]
I’m not—
[ He laughs, breathless and a little incredulous. ] I can’t… ah… Liem…
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Liem feels his longing crash down on him all at once.
He feels it in the groan that tears out of him as Cardan bucks up to meet him, and in the hot flare of lust that throbs through his veins, making his hips stutter and his eyes lose their focus. He swallows against it, a little lost as he swims through the lush, overflowing tide of sensation, and feels a helpless bloom of affection squeeze his chest for the man staring so breathlessly, irresistibly back at him.
In the end, he cannot withstand it. He is drowning in sentiments that cannot be allowed past his lips, and ablaze with pleasure that has been wildly urgent for longer than he’d thought possible. He can only fuck down onto him again, and again, his eyes caught tight by his lover’s, and drive their rhythm hard enough that he cannot possibly gasp anything but Cardan’s name.
Again, and again.]
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But then, he's the only thing that's mattered to Cardan for quite some time.
His fingers find Liem's erection, his grip feverish in his urgency. The strokes are not particularly coordinated, but it doesn't matter -- Cardan just wants to touch him, just wants him to be as desperately close as he himself is, racing inevitably toward the precipice of his orgasm. As always, he wants it to last longer; as always, he's greedy for more of this, more of his husband's unfettered lust and unexpected longing. ]
...breathtaking... you're--
[ But it's far too late. He doesn't finish the thought, his voice breaking off with a helpless gasp. His eyes fall shut. Everything is heat and pleasure and friction. It winds tight inside him like a spring, seizing every muscle in his body -- he sucks in a breath, then another, and then his climax thunders through him, making his hand twist in the sheets as he presses inside the tight grasp of Liem's body one last time. ]
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It is all far, far too much. When Cardan goes taut beneath him, overwhelmed and beautiful as he fucks up into him again, pleasure rolls through Liem all at once, swelling until he’s filled up and desperate with it.]
Oh, fuck—
[He dips closer as he comes, unable to resist the want to be near—to breathe Cardan in, to feel his heat, to touch him in every way he can. Not even the frantic need to ride through his orgasm for as long as possible can keep him from this; in the end, he stills atop his lover with his hand splayed over his ribs, his head sinking down to nestle in the crook of his neck.]
So unfair… that you’re like this, [he murmurs against Cardan’s collarbone. He cannot think properly with the image of Cardan’s hungry, heavy-lidded gaze stamped against the inside of his eyelids. It is inconceivable that he could ever recall how to function again without Cardan haunting all his thoughts.]
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He doesn't have to ask himself why he feels this. He knows, he knows. In the end, he cannot help but be greedy for Liem's love as well as his desire, his devotion, his dutiful care. It's just that neither of them have time to contend with Cardan's feelings while trying to unseat Dain as his father's heir. It's just that he's afraid of how Liem might react to be told at all.
So he only turns his head to nuzzle his husband's hair and stroke down the line of his back, while he tries to catch his breath. Pleasurable little shivers dance over his skin, still, where Liem's face presses against his throat. His smile curves against Liem's temple, even as Cardan's arms slide around him. ]
It's unlike you, to shirk responsibility.
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[His voice is a muffled murmur, still tucked against the warm curve of Cardan’s neck. Liem has no desire to remedy this.]
I shirk my responsibilities with some regularity, to indulge my desire to be alone with you.
[Is this what Cardan meant? No, but Liem’s point is that his new husband has clearly been a bad influence on him. Why else would his work seem so interminable of late, and Cardan’s mischief so increasingly inviting? There is ever more to be done, and the more responsibilities Liem finds piled on his desk, the less he wants to think about any of them. He is so weary of it all; he just wants to stay here, in Cardan’s arms, where their troubles seem so much more remote, and Cardan’s affection makes itself so unassailably real.
For now, this is exactly what he will do. It is yet day; he is well within his rights to linger in his husband’s embrace, to crawl beneath the covers with him and fall asleep to the gentle whisper of his slowing breaths. And if he must pry himself free again in the evening, as on every evening, he will not think about that just now. Night will fall soon enough with or without his fretful anticipation.]