[ Cardan's eyebrows twitch upward. Despite that Liem is correct, he had not expected to be called on it this morning -- though he is indeed too content to muster up much protest. His gaze on Liem is heavy-lidded; when his husband leans close to kiss his face, he cannot help but let his eyes fall shut altogether. It feels lovely, to lay here with him on their makeshift nest of pillows and blankets, with the fire basking them both in comfortable warmth, with the sounds of dusk creatures stirring in the near distance. ]
Are you disappointed?
[ He doesn't sound particularly disappointed, and Cardan cannot bring himself to be particularly concerned about it. Still -- it hadn't occurred to him that his husband might have expected him to be more ornery. But then, is thwarting Liem's plans not, in itself, a success in being contrary?
Cardan's innate talent at petty villainy rather obviously knows no bounds. ]
It seemed unsporting to promise you something, only to withhold it. [ His eyes feel heavier still when he opens them again, looking at Liem. The small, slow smile that curls one corner of his mouth is tired.
Still, he's too curious for his husband's expression not to make the effort to watch him. ] But perhaps my husband prefers me to be unsporting.
[The peace that steals, warm and cozy, over the two of them as they rest there in their fire-warmed nest does much to persuade Liem to linger just like that for a while longer. Cardan is so entrancing in repose; when he closes his eyes for that long moment, it seems impossible that Liem could ask him to trudge the handful of paces to the cabin’s actual bed, let alone trek all the way back home with him so Liem at least can resume his usual activities. He wants only to wrap himself around Cardan and let that soft, heavy contentment smother him into a few hours of oblivion.
He is trying not to think of the fact that he won’t be able to indulge that particular pleasure tonight. In his greed for Cardan’s submission, it seems he has robbed himself of another indulgence he covets just as much.]
I had no opportunity to be disappointed. I only traded one delight for another.
[As he assures his spouse, Liem tries to ignore the taut, yearning feeling that Cardan’s sleepy expression inspires in his chest. Perhaps the estate can wait a few hours more after all. The thought of prying himself away from his husband for any reason now makes Liem want to bite someone.
Still, he does feel unpleasantly sticky. Much as he yearns to cuddle up with his husband for an eternity or two, he would much prefer the experience if they were both at least somewhat clean.]
Come here, [he murmurs, sneaking an arm around Cardan once more. This time it is just to clutch him tight to his body and roll them both over to a drier patch of their makeshift love nest—one also conveniently a little closer to the hearth. Once they are there, he only needs to convince himself to release his jealous grip on his husband so they might get cleaned up. Just as soon as he finishes holding him close, cheek-to-cheek, and breathing him in.]
Will you bide, if I fetch something to clean up with?
[ Cardan makes a noise of protest when he's moved again, though it's more petty than anything else -- the dry spot Liem has turned them onto does feel nicer, and he will never not be enamoured with the feeling of his husband lying against him, Liem's quiet, slow breaths whispering against his skin.
And, even spent as he is, he can't help the soft shiver that takes him when Liem nestles against him. He sighs, tilting his face a tiny amount so that he can brush a tired kiss over his husband's jaw. ]
If you must, [ he will grumble. He is more than comfortable enough; even if they're sticky, the idea of separating from his husband is unpleasant.
But he also knows that Liem will only fuss and squirm if he doesn't acquiesce, and so. ] But I wish to hold you, husband. After.
[Loath though Liem is to disentangle himself from his spouse—especially when Cardan is so open about his desire to have him in his arms—cuddling Cardan only makes their mutual stickiness more apparent, to Liem’s mild distress. If he wants to be able to truly appreciate the time before they depart for home, he needs them to both be clean. At least in the places where the two of them are touching.]
I will be swift, [he promises, pressing one last kiss to the corner of his lover’s mouth. Then Liem peels himself free and seeks whatever washing facilities the tiny cabin possesses.
True to his word, he returns after only a few minutes, damp and freshly scrubbed, bearing a small silver basin and a cloth. But because he has no wish to assault his spouse with unheated cabin water, he sets the basin on the hearth stones and warms the damp cloth near the flames before applying any part of it to Cardan’s body. Only then does he move to begin gently cleaning the day’s excesses from his husband as well.]
[ He thinks he might fall asleep between Liem's leaving and his return. Everything is heavy; he feels utterly wrung out, drained of all energy. He only wants to curl up and close his eyes, bask in the warm glow of the fire, and let the pleasant ache of tired limbs against soft blankets lull him to sleep.
But Liem isn't there -- and somehow, the empty space beside him feels too lonely to rest in. Even though sleeping alone hadn't bothered him for a long time, he finds himself unable to so much as close his eyes. Instead, he frowns at the flames, his fingertips tracing restless circles into a pillow's silken cover. His impatience only sharpens when his husband pads back into the room -- after what feels like far too long -- looking fresh-cheeked and far too lively for the day they've had. Still, Cardan is glad to see him. If his frown deepens, it's only because he cannot let Liem see the relief that threatens to break through.
He does close his eyes, finally, when the warmed cloth draws over his skin. And even though he wishes to hide his face, to bury it in pillows, he will instead stretch himself out like a lazy cat submitting to being groomed, graciously proffering a long limb here and there when Liem requests it. ]
[The sulky frown that Cardan is wearing when Liem returns strikes him as so charmingly expected, glimpsed on his impatient spouse. Liem’s heart shifts restlessly in his chest as his gaze falls on the golden, fire-lit form of his lover draped over the cushions where he left him, staring up at Liem as though in silent admonition of his tardiness.
It is one of Cardan’s talents, that the sight of his frown so consistently makes Liem yearn to win one of his smiles.
When he kneels next to his husband once more, he says little—but the transit of the cloth over Cardan’s skin is deliberate, his attention economical and unfailingly gentle. Chilled fingertips brush here and there over his bruise-decorated body as Liem coaxes his husband to surrender himself to his care, his hands retreating at times to revisit the basin on the hearth—but the cloth itself, when it touches skin, is always warm. Though he lingers no longer than he must, he takes pleasure in being thorough.
If this is what surrender looks like on Cardan, Liem finds himself satisfied indeed.
And when finally he has finished, when Liem has set cloth and basin aside and dried the dampness from Cardan’s skin, he will drag close a rumpled blanket from the edge of their nest and drape it about them as he coils himself around his lover once again. His lips find the hollow of Cardan’s throat, brushing carefully over it as he fits himself into his husband’s embrace.
[ He doesn't mean to -- doesn't expect it to -- but the steady, deliberate way Liem washes traces of their excesses from his skin makes the tension drain from him, breath by breath and beat by beat. Just as suddenly as his strange dejection had come on, it dissipates under the touch of his husband's cool hands. Still, he is not calm -- not when Liem dries him off, not when he finally, finally slips back into Cardan's arms, and certainly not when that cool mouth brushes his throat. He is sure that Liem can both feel and hear the hammering of his heart, just then, but it doesn't matter. He can do nothing about being noticed. All he can do -- all he wants to do -- is clutch his husband close and bury his face in Liem's hair, breathing him in with something akin to reverence.
Even his tail curls about Liem, compliant with this specific desire. ]
You're chilled again, [ he murmurs. It's fine; Cardan is warm enough for both of them. And is this not what he's meant for, in the end?
He falls asleep startingly quickly, and dreams of nothing at all.
By the time he'll blink his eyes open again, the fire has all but burned out. His usual sense of time passing is jumbled; it's a little disorienting, though not quite enough so to fully startle him awake. Instead, he yawns, idly petting Liem's hair as his memory stirs, sluggish as a bear in winter. ]
...when do we need to head back?
[ His husband must be awake, he presumes; Liem has never needed quite as much rest as Cardan does, even at his worst. ]
[Sleep comes reluctantly to Liem while the sun is safely below the horizon. Wrapped contentedly around his lover, he dozes and listens to the slowing rhythms of his warm body, and eventually a shallow sleep falls over him. His restless dreams feature Cardan consistently, a comfortable constant in the parade of nonsensical mundanity flitting through his twilight awareness.
Then he feels Cardan stir against him, and the sensation delivers him once more to stable reality. He can sense the deepness of night still lying over the forest outside, beckoning them both from beyond their makeshift lair. As always, the forest proves a tempting lure for Liem; only his husband’s sleepy embrace keeps him ensconced in this little cabin at such a late hour in the evening.
He remains hopelessly soothed by the gentle fingers stroking his hair.]
As soon as reasonably possible, [comes the obvious reply. Since his husband has rejoined the world of the living, Liem props himself up just enough to peer contemplatively at his face.] Are you sufficiently rested?
No, [ is Cardan's dry reply. Of course he's not rested: he's spent the past day having the most physically demanding fuck of his life, after hiking through a storm the night prior. He's warm, and comfortable, and wrapped around the person he values most in the entire world, and not even his stomach's insistent grumbling about his skipping lunch, dinner, and breakfast can make leaving bed particularly attractive.
Not that he presumes that he has much choice in the matter. Still, he has his husband trapped yet, and so Cardan will take the opportunity to arch up and kiss him, sleep-warm and tender. If he must suffer the difficulty of dragging himself upright and into clothing, then Liem should at least have the decency to feel the loss equally.
Though Cardan is not so tired that he won't drag warm fingers down the length of Liem's spine, and lower, to grab his husband's ass. But then, he needs something to motivate him for the trials ahead. ]
[Cardan’s curt, bone-dry answer only makes amusement tug at the corner of Liem’s mouth. No, his husband could not be sufficiently rested after the day they had, and he is not someone to pretend otherwise when he’d rather stay in bed. And yet, he has roused from his sleep on his own, so surely he will be able to rally at least long enough for the two of them to return home.
In a little while. After Liem has finished returning his husband’s warm, unhurried kisses. No amount of dutiful hurry could make him wish to pull away from Cardan’s embrace when he is like this—or at any other time, in truth. Tender or hungry, his affection is always irresistible.
Instead he presses Cardan back down against the cushions, gentle fingers cupping his cheek as he gladly indulges his lover’s desire.]
Then, [Liem murmurs against his mouth, between kisses,] will you still rise long enough to dress and accompany me, if I bear you home myself?
[ His eyebrows fly upward; for a moment, he's distracted even from the pleasure of Liem atop him, pressing him into plush pillows with the weight of his deliberate kisses. For all that his husband has proven willing to carry him in his arms before, Cardan had not expected the offer. For one, the only other time it happened, he was...
Dying, his half-awake brain helpfully supplies. You were dying.
He remembers little of it -- just his face pressed into Liem's cool throat, the feeling of wrongness, of heat that burned from within. He breathes out, intending to shake off the memory. Perhaps it would be useful to replace it with something better. And he is so very tired...
His hand slips over Liem's, covering it. ]
Of course I will accompany you.
[ If he sounds vaguely offended, it's because of the suggestion that he would ever let Liem leave on his own, no matter how tired he may be. Even so, the prospect of dragging his own weary bones across the forest is looking less and less attractive by the second.
A smile tugs at his mouth, despite himself. He has to turn his face and tuck it against Liem's palm. ]
But if you wish to play the gallant knight who bears me home, then far be it from me to deny you.
[Liem has had sadly few opportunities in his life to play the gallant knight for anyone, and especially few to act that role for his husband, so he cherishes each rare opportunity when it arrives. He is especially pleased now, given his husband is only tired, and so Liem might now carry him for a spell without any accompanying worries pressing on his mind.]
I live to serve, my prince.
[But the playful tone of the declaration is belied by the gentle kiss Liem leans close to press against Cardan’s warm brow. Indeed, would that Liem had no other responsibilities, save for those dedicated to this one, impossibly special man.
Begrudgingly, Liem then pushes himself upright in their cozy nest, skin bared to the cooling air as the blanket falls from his shoulders. What clothing they didn’t abandon before their impulse-driven adventure still hangs nearby, draped over various bits of furniture positioned by the hearth.
It will all be wrinkled, of course, but at least it should be dry.]
Let us return, then, that you might continue your nap somewhere more familiar.
[ He sighs, long-suffering -- but also a little distracted, in truth, by the coquettish bareness of Liem's shoulders peeking out from the blanket. The freedom of the storm still clings to his husband, a little bit, with his hair tousled and in his face, with his usually serious features relaxed. Part of Cardan wants to steal him away forever -- wants to live here, by themselves, free to frolic around and chase their pleasure as they like.
Unfortunately, he is too aware that Liem is not a man who thrives on leisure.
Cardan sighs again, lifting one hand to trace languid fingertips over his husband's elegant collarbone, up the line of his throat. He cannot help but be a little wistful about it. Not for the first time, he wishes that he had teeth of silver to leave marks of his own on Liem's pale skin, to mark him just as he had marked Cardan. ]
You live to torment me with your competence, husband.
[ But he will push himself upward, laborious a process as it is. Pulling on trousers feels like an overwhelming prospect, so he reaches for his shirt first, yawning as he works to get it over his head. If Liem is dishevelled, then he himself must be in true disarray, but this is fine. He has ever been a wild creature, and so he has only styled himself appropriately. ]
Next time, [ he murmurs, fighting further yawns, ] I shall not agree to this outside of my own bed.
[Every time Liem dares to think that he has been charmed and beguiled by his husband in every possible way, he is inevitably proven wrong. Though his habit of rising early has robbed him of all too many hours of enjoying Cardan’s sleep-warm embrace, he is now discovering that his husband can be especially delectable when he first drags himself out of bed, as well. For a moment as Cardan sleepily pulls on yesterday’s shirt, Liem only watches him, unmindful of the air chilling his skin as the blankets slide further down his body.
He very much wishes he could pull his lover back under the blankets and keep him here for another day, to cover him in kisses and secure more of Cardan’s drowsy affection all for himself. If this little bolt hole had a single crumb of food in it, perhaps he might even consider doing just that.
But this shelter for stranded vampires is no place for Liem’s elven spouse to spend days on end. Grudgingly, he rises from the nest of blankets to begin pulling on his clothing, starting with his socks and simply moving up from there. As he does, he comforts himself with the thought that Cardan will at least be back in his arms soon enough, return home or no.]
I shall be admiring my handiwork for some time yet, [he says with satisfaction, eyeing the bruises peeking out from beneath Cardan’s shirt.] But the next time I’m seized by the need to have you again, I will be sure to remember.
[ Having already raised an eyebrow at the -- frankly -- demented order of priorities in which Liem goes about dressing, Cardan now arches it further at his remark. He will glance at himself, peering down the mostly unbuttoned neckline of his shirt. Even just based on what he can see, Liem is right: a lush pattern of bruises blooms on his skin, and he is certain they will be more dense closer to his throat. The glimpse of the bite wound on his inner thigh makes residual heat thump through him; he brushes a thumb against it, pressing down just enough to feel the dull ache.
It distracts him quite efficiently from all the ways in which he does not wish to get up.
Eventually, though, even he will run out of ways to stall. Unlike Liem, who arrived at the cabin fully dressed, Cardan had only two items of clothing, and the second of these already threatens to overcome him. Exhaustion drags down his limbs even as he fights his way fully upright so he can pull the trousers on. For the first time, he considers that he may not be able to make it back before sunrise without Liem's assistance -- which is different from simply desiring to be spoiled.
As a thought, it's a little bit unsettling.
He sinks down onto the couch once he's done, frowning at his own bare toes. Part of him wants to close his eyes again, if only for a minute or two, until his husband hustles them out. Instead, he forces himself to draw his shoulders up, to straighten his spine. At least enough that he can remain alert, instead of embarrassing himself entirely. ]
Are you... [ another yawn; he stifles it against the back of his hand, frowning ] ...ready yet, husband?
[ Cardan isn't, but Liem doesn't have to know that. ]
[Despite their long, sleepless day and the wet trek preceding it, Liem seems almost entirely alert as he methodically retrieves his clothes and puts them back on. Day always makes him feel at least a little dozy, but the arrival of darkness has cleared his head substantially, and the blood he took from Cardan has effectively made up for his lack of rest. He foresees no difficulty in bearing Cardan all the way back to the manor.
Which is good, because the sidelong glances he keeps stealing at Cardan suggest that his husband is in no condition to dredge up any enthusiasm for walking the distance himself.]
Just about.
[Having slid his shirt on and done the buttons back up, he tucks it in so he can pull his waistcoat on atop it. This he now buttons up as well, as he fixes Cardan with a studying look.]
I do not recall you seeming so worn out even after you spirited me away from Prince Balekin’s revel.
[Which is saying something, considering Cardan had been suffering from ongoing anemia at the time. Liem certainly remembers being bone tired by the end of that long night and day.]
[ Cardan's frown deepens briefly into a scowl... before he sighs and slides his hand through his already wild hair, dishevelling it further. It's embarrassing, to have Liem point it out, but he does not have the energy to be bitchy about it, and anyway-- he is tired. It would be stupid to think his husband wouldn't notice. ]
I'd been planning that for weeks. [ Since Liem had first mentioned the fantasy, in the grimy human pub. ]
I just didn't think I could get you that blood-drunk without dying. But when I realized you were absinthe-drunk already...
[ He shrugs, then allows his shoulders to droop a bit. Whom is he keeping pretenses up for, anyway? ]
I swiped one of Balekin's drugs on the way out. The kind that lets one revel for days at a time.
[ His smile up at Liem is wry. ] I was up for hours after you fell asleep. You utterly demented creature.
[ That last insult has nothing to do with Liem's sleeping -- it's solely because he's bothering to neatly button his waistcoat while about to traverse a forest with a man who is barely wearing trousers. Even so, the lilt of Cardan's insult is too affectionate, and his weary gaze lingers overlong on Liem's clever fingers over his buttons. ]
[Cardan’s scowl only makes fondness settle soft and warm behind Liem’s ribs. His husband wears a scowl so handsomely, and the way he then relinquishes his irritation feels, to Liem, companionable in a way he still cannot manage to take for granted. The easy way Cardan fits into his life like he belongs there is so terribly precious. Liem cannot imagine giving this up for anything in the world.]
You are such a greedy man.
[How like Cardan to want to get his hands all over every part of Liem’s life, from his work to his rest to his very fantasies. To think that he had been scheming to make this scenario come true ever since Liem told him of it. Never has Liem been spoiled by such ardent desire.
Even now, he doesn’t miss the way Cardan’s tired eyes linger on his hands. He is sure he has never known a hungrier man.
With only his boots left to put on, Liem will stoop to snag them from their resting place and then fold himself down next to his husband to slide his feet into them. Among the things he has put back on, the shoes alone are still damp, but he has no fear of blisters and they will be home where it is dry in not too long regardless.]
[ For all of his pretense of stoicism, when Liem moves close, it is hard to resist the urge to lean against him. Not just because Cardan's exhausted -- it's just that he never quite tires of how solid Liem feels, of the trim, strong shape of him beneath those fine clothes. It's just that he always wants to be wrapped in his husband's scent. Seldom has he so often missed someone who was right next to him.
He doesn't lean, this time, if only because he's not certain he won't fall asleep if he gets too comfortable. Instead, he only draws his fingers over Liem's jaw, ever charmed by the enterprising growth of stubble. It makes Liem look a little rugged, despite his best efforts with buttons and waistcoats. Cardan cannot help but smile at it. ]
You are that.
[ How happy this makes him. How perilous love is, to make such pleased warmth spread through him at the mere thought of having this one man. ]
[A year ago, Liem never would have supposed that next summer would see him and his betrothed so happily, effortlessly married. Of all the struggles he must face as the weeks go by, almost none of them are his husband’s doing—not unless he counts the tasks Cardan sets him during intimacy, for his own amusement. He could not have guessed that his spouse would make his work nights pass more easily, make parties more tolerable, bring more joy to his precious spare hours. He could not have foreseen that the simple touch of Cardan’s hand would make him feel so at peace.
Would that they could both stay here and devote the next hours to only more of this. Instead, Liem sits up from the task of lacing his boots and insinuates an arm around his husband’s waist, pulling Cardan briefly against him so he can lean close and steal a warm, easy kiss.]
Let us go, husband.
[The house awaits them, and with it, food and clean sheets for his wearied spouse. Liem has an interest in enjoying those clean sheets as well, once he’s tackled the most pressing things on the night’s agenda. It has been a very long day.]
[ So they go. It turns out, to Cardan's mild chagrin, that his husband is indeed serious about bearing him home in his arms. Since he cannot very well refuse an offer he has already agreed to -- and he is excruciatingly, bone-shiveringly tired -- he soon finds himself nestled securely against Liem as they traverse the night forest.
It's comfortable. So comfortable that he dozes off against Liem's shoulder soon into the journey, and finds himself blinking blearily at the house upon their arrival. He will take the offer of food and a change of clothing, though he stubbornly refuses to sleep alone, dragging himself into the office so he can nap on Liem's couch instead. And when they finally do slip between the sheets, his last thought is that he has never been so happy to be so utterly exhausted. ]
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Are you disappointed?
[ He doesn't sound particularly disappointed, and Cardan cannot bring himself to be particularly concerned about it. Still -- it hadn't occurred to him that his husband might have expected him to be more ornery. But then, is thwarting Liem's plans not, in itself, a success in being contrary?
Cardan's innate talent at petty villainy rather obviously knows no bounds. ]
It seemed unsporting to promise you something, only to withhold it. [ His eyes feel heavier still when he opens them again, looking at Liem. The small, slow smile that curls one corner of his mouth is tired.
Still, he's too curious for his husband's expression not to make the effort to watch him. ] But perhaps my husband prefers me to be unsporting.
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He is trying not to think of the fact that he won’t be able to indulge that particular pleasure tonight. In his greed for Cardan’s submission, it seems he has robbed himself of another indulgence he covets just as much.]
I had no opportunity to be disappointed. I only traded one delight for another.
[As he assures his spouse, Liem tries to ignore the taut, yearning feeling that Cardan’s sleepy expression inspires in his chest. Perhaps the estate can wait a few hours more after all. The thought of prying himself away from his husband for any reason now makes Liem want to bite someone.
Still, he does feel unpleasantly sticky. Much as he yearns to cuddle up with his husband for an eternity or two, he would much prefer the experience if they were both at least somewhat clean.]
Come here, [he murmurs, sneaking an arm around Cardan once more. This time it is just to clutch him tight to his body and roll them both over to a drier patch of their makeshift love nest—one also conveniently a little closer to the hearth. Once they are there, he only needs to convince himself to release his jealous grip on his husband so they might get cleaned up. Just as soon as he finishes holding him close, cheek-to-cheek, and breathing him in.]
Will you bide, if I fetch something to clean up with?
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And, even spent as he is, he can't help the soft shiver that takes him when Liem nestles against him. He sighs, tilting his face a tiny amount so that he can brush a tired kiss over his husband's jaw. ]
If you must, [ he will grumble. He is more than comfortable enough; even if they're sticky, the idea of separating from his husband is unpleasant.
But he also knows that Liem will only fuss and squirm if he doesn't acquiesce, and so. ] But I wish to hold you, husband. After.
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I will be swift, [he promises, pressing one last kiss to the corner of his lover’s mouth. Then Liem peels himself free and seeks whatever washing facilities the tiny cabin possesses.
True to his word, he returns after only a few minutes, damp and freshly scrubbed, bearing a small silver basin and a cloth. But because he has no wish to assault his spouse with unheated cabin water, he sets the basin on the hearth stones and warms the damp cloth near the flames before applying any part of it to Cardan’s body. Only then does he move to begin gently cleaning the day’s excesses from his husband as well.]
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But Liem isn't there -- and somehow, the empty space beside him feels too lonely to rest in. Even though sleeping alone hadn't bothered him for a long time, he finds himself unable to so much as close his eyes. Instead, he frowns at the flames, his fingertips tracing restless circles into a pillow's silken cover. His impatience only sharpens when his husband pads back into the room -- after what feels like far too long -- looking fresh-cheeked and far too lively for the day they've had. Still, Cardan is glad to see him. If his frown deepens, it's only because he cannot let Liem see the relief that threatens to break through.
He does close his eyes, finally, when the warmed cloth draws over his skin. And even though he wishes to hide his face, to bury it in pillows, he will instead stretch himself out like a lazy cat submitting to being groomed, graciously proffering a long limb here and there when Liem requests it. ]
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It is one of Cardan’s talents, that the sight of his frown so consistently makes Liem yearn to win one of his smiles.
When he kneels next to his husband once more, he says little—but the transit of the cloth over Cardan’s skin is deliberate, his attention economical and unfailingly gentle. Chilled fingertips brush here and there over his bruise-decorated body as Liem coaxes his husband to surrender himself to his care, his hands retreating at times to revisit the basin on the hearth—but the cloth itself, when it touches skin, is always warm. Though he lingers no longer than he must, he takes pleasure in being thorough.
If this is what surrender looks like on Cardan, Liem finds himself satisfied indeed.
And when finally he has finished, when Liem has set cloth and basin aside and dried the dampness from Cardan’s skin, he will drag close a rumpled blanket from the edge of their nest and drape it about them as he coils himself around his lover once again. His lips find the hollow of Cardan’s throat, brushing carefully over it as he fits himself into his husband’s embrace.
Where he belongs.]
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Even his tail curls about Liem, compliant with this specific desire. ]
You're chilled again, [ he murmurs. It's fine; Cardan is warm enough for both of them. And is this not what he's meant for, in the end?
He falls asleep startingly quickly, and dreams of nothing at all.
By the time he'll blink his eyes open again, the fire has all but burned out. His usual sense of time passing is jumbled; it's a little disorienting, though not quite enough so to fully startle him awake. Instead, he yawns, idly petting Liem's hair as his memory stirs, sluggish as a bear in winter. ]
...when do we need to head back?
[ His husband must be awake, he presumes; Liem has never needed quite as much rest as Cardan does, even at his worst. ]
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Then he feels Cardan stir against him, and the sensation delivers him once more to stable reality. He can sense the deepness of night still lying over the forest outside, beckoning them both from beyond their makeshift lair. As always, the forest proves a tempting lure for Liem; only his husband’s sleepy embrace keeps him ensconced in this little cabin at such a late hour in the evening.
He remains hopelessly soothed by the gentle fingers stroking his hair.]
As soon as reasonably possible, [comes the obvious reply. Since his husband has rejoined the world of the living, Liem props himself up just enough to peer contemplatively at his face.] Are you sufficiently rested?
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Not that he presumes that he has much choice in the matter. Still, he has his husband trapped yet, and so Cardan will take the opportunity to arch up and kiss him, sleep-warm and tender. If he must suffer the difficulty of dragging himself upright and into clothing, then Liem should at least have the decency to feel the loss equally.
Though Cardan is not so tired that he won't drag warm fingers down the length of Liem's spine, and lower, to grab his husband's ass. But then, he needs something to motivate him for the trials ahead. ]
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In a little while. After Liem has finished returning his husband’s warm, unhurried kisses. No amount of dutiful hurry could make him wish to pull away from Cardan’s embrace when he is like this—or at any other time, in truth. Tender or hungry, his affection is always irresistible.
Instead he presses Cardan back down against the cushions, gentle fingers cupping his cheek as he gladly indulges his lover’s desire.]
Then, [Liem murmurs against his mouth, between kisses,] will you still rise long enough to dress and accompany me, if I bear you home myself?
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Dying, his half-awake brain helpfully supplies. You were dying.
He remembers little of it -- just his face pressed into Liem's cool throat, the feeling of wrongness, of heat that burned from within. He breathes out, intending to shake off the memory. Perhaps it would be useful to replace it with something better. And he is so very tired...
His hand slips over Liem's, covering it. ]
Of course I will accompany you.
[ If he sounds vaguely offended, it's because of the suggestion that he would ever let Liem leave on his own, no matter how tired he may be. Even so, the prospect of dragging his own weary bones across the forest is looking less and less attractive by the second.
A smile tugs at his mouth, despite himself. He has to turn his face and tuck it against Liem's palm. ]
But if you wish to play the gallant knight who bears me home, then far be it from me to deny you.
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I live to serve, my prince.
[But the playful tone of the declaration is belied by the gentle kiss Liem leans close to press against Cardan’s warm brow. Indeed, would that Liem had no other responsibilities, save for those dedicated to this one, impossibly special man.
Begrudgingly, Liem then pushes himself upright in their cozy nest, skin bared to the cooling air as the blanket falls from his shoulders. What clothing they didn’t abandon before their impulse-driven adventure still hangs nearby, draped over various bits of furniture positioned by the hearth.
It will all be wrinkled, of course, but at least it should be dry.]
Let us return, then, that you might continue your nap somewhere more familiar.
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Unfortunately, he is too aware that Liem is not a man who thrives on leisure.
Cardan sighs again, lifting one hand to trace languid fingertips over his husband's elegant collarbone, up the line of his throat. He cannot help but be a little wistful about it. Not for the first time, he wishes that he had teeth of silver to leave marks of his own on Liem's pale skin, to mark him just as he had marked Cardan. ]
You live to torment me with your competence, husband.
[ But he will push himself upward, laborious a process as it is. Pulling on trousers feels like an overwhelming prospect, so he reaches for his shirt first, yawning as he works to get it over his head. If Liem is dishevelled, then he himself must be in true disarray, but this is fine. He has ever been a wild creature, and so he has only styled himself appropriately. ]
Next time, [ he murmurs, fighting further yawns, ] I shall not agree to this outside of my own bed.
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He very much wishes he could pull his lover back under the blankets and keep him here for another day, to cover him in kisses and secure more of Cardan’s drowsy affection all for himself. If this little bolt hole had a single crumb of food in it, perhaps he might even consider doing just that.
But this shelter for stranded vampires is no place for Liem’s elven spouse to spend days on end. Grudgingly, he rises from the nest of blankets to begin pulling on his clothing, starting with his socks and simply moving up from there. As he does, he comforts himself with the thought that Cardan will at least be back in his arms soon enough, return home or no.]
I shall be admiring my handiwork for some time yet, [he says with satisfaction, eyeing the bruises peeking out from beneath Cardan’s shirt.] But the next time I’m seized by the need to have you again, I will be sure to remember.
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It distracts him quite efficiently from all the ways in which he does not wish to get up.
Eventually, though, even he will run out of ways to stall. Unlike Liem, who arrived at the cabin fully dressed, Cardan had only two items of clothing, and the second of these already threatens to overcome him. Exhaustion drags down his limbs even as he fights his way fully upright so he can pull the trousers on. For the first time, he considers that he may not be able to make it back before sunrise without Liem's assistance -- which is different from simply desiring to be spoiled.
As a thought, it's a little bit unsettling.
He sinks down onto the couch once he's done, frowning at his own bare toes. Part of him wants to close his eyes again, if only for a minute or two, until his husband hustles them out. Instead, he forces himself to draw his shoulders up, to straighten his spine. At least enough that he can remain alert, instead of embarrassing himself entirely. ]
Are you... [ another yawn; he stifles it against the back of his hand, frowning ] ...ready yet, husband?
[ Cardan isn't, but Liem doesn't have to know that. ]
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Which is good, because the sidelong glances he keeps stealing at Cardan suggest that his husband is in no condition to dredge up any enthusiasm for walking the distance himself.]
Just about.
[Having slid his shirt on and done the buttons back up, he tucks it in so he can pull his waistcoat on atop it. This he now buttons up as well, as he fixes Cardan with a studying look.]
I do not recall you seeming so worn out even after you spirited me away from Prince Balekin’s revel.
[Which is saying something, considering Cardan had been suffering from ongoing anemia at the time. Liem certainly remembers being bone tired by the end of that long night and day.]
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I'd been planning that for weeks. [ Since Liem had first mentioned the fantasy, in the grimy human pub. ]
I just didn't think I could get you that blood-drunk without dying. But when I realized you were absinthe-drunk already...
[ He shrugs, then allows his shoulders to droop a bit. Whom is he keeping pretenses up for, anyway? ]
I swiped one of Balekin's drugs on the way out. The kind that lets one revel for days at a time.
[ His smile up at Liem is wry. ] I was up for hours after you fell asleep. You utterly demented creature.
[ That last insult has nothing to do with Liem's sleeping -- it's solely because he's bothering to neatly button his waistcoat while about to traverse a forest with a man who is barely wearing trousers. Even so, the lilt of Cardan's insult is too affectionate, and his weary gaze lingers overlong on Liem's clever fingers over his buttons. ]
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You are such a greedy man.
[How like Cardan to want to get his hands all over every part of Liem’s life, from his work to his rest to his very fantasies. To think that he had been scheming to make this scenario come true ever since Liem told him of it. Never has Liem been spoiled by such ardent desire.
Even now, he doesn’t miss the way Cardan’s tired eyes linger on his hands. He is sure he has never known a hungrier man.
With only his boots left to put on, Liem will stoop to snag them from their resting place and then fold himself down next to his husband to slide his feet into them. Among the things he has put back on, the shoes alone are still damp, but he has no fear of blisters and they will be home where it is dry in not too long regardless.]
And I am your demented creature.
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He doesn't lean, this time, if only because he's not certain he won't fall asleep if he gets too comfortable. Instead, he only draws his fingers over Liem's jaw, ever charmed by the enterprising growth of stubble. It makes Liem look a little rugged, despite his best efforts with buttons and waistcoats. Cardan cannot help but smile at it. ]
You are that.
[ How happy this makes him. How perilous love is, to make such pleased warmth spread through him at the mere thought of having this one man. ]
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Would that they could both stay here and devote the next hours to only more of this. Instead, Liem sits up from the task of lacing his boots and insinuates an arm around his husband’s waist, pulling Cardan briefly against him so he can lean close and steal a warm, easy kiss.]
Let us go, husband.
[The house awaits them, and with it, food and clean sheets for his wearied spouse. Liem has an interest in enjoying those clean sheets as well, once he’s tackled the most pressing things on the night’s agenda. It has been a very long day.]
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It's comfortable. So comfortable that he dozes off against Liem's shoulder soon into the journey, and finds himself blinking blearily at the house upon their arrival. He will take the offer of food and a change of clothing, though he stubbornly refuses to sleep alone, dragging himself into the office so he can nap on Liem's couch instead. And when they finally do slip between the sheets, his last thought is that he has never been so happy to be so utterly exhausted. ]