[Regardless of his intentions, Cardan does a good job of distracting Liem from his plans with the insistent warmth of his kiss. Liem has little choice but to relax into it, his hands splayed comfortably over his husband’s chest as he indulges in the affectionate caress of Cardan’s mouth on his. As ever, it makes something soft and eager flutter against his ribs.
Cardan is not the only one who might be tempted to change his mind about consenting to be parted.
Still, he lets his husband pull away and slide into the heated water. Liem watches him with a warm, hungry regard, even as he reaches down to free himself of the rest of his own clothing. In moments his trousers are unfastened and he strips them off along with his socks; he takes only another moment to peruse the small selection of bottles near the tub’s edge before leaning over his husband.]
Slide forward if you please. I wish to tend to your back and shoulders, but I did promise we would bathe together. I see no reason not to do both at once.
How efficient of you, [ Cardan purrs, though his gaze a little too focused to be as languid as the rest of him is pretending to be. Part of him is tempted to pull Liem down, the way his husband has done more than once, upending him into the bath.
...but he doesn't. After a moment longer spent staring up at Liem, he will sit up out of his recline, moving forward so that his husband has room to get in behind him. He doesn't know why it still makes him nervous, somehow, to have Liem focused on his back; he's not ashamed of the scars, and Liem has never commented on them, regardless. Perhaps it's just that it feels vulnerable to be exposed to someone's gaze without being able to return the favour.
In some ways, that's a thrill. Still, he reaches down to reign in his twitchy tail, stilling it against his own thigh, lest it get pinned in some unfortunate position between them. ]
[For a moment, as Cardan stares up at him, Liem thinks his husband might refuse. He suspects Cardan is indulging him as a means of putting the unhappy events of the morning behind them, and that indulgence will only stretch so far. His husband has never evinced any particular desire to be bathed.
But Cardan gives way after all, tucking his unruly tail out of the way as he does, and Liem is only too happy to slide behind him into the heated water.]
I live to serve, husband.
[He leans forward to plant a kiss at the nape of his lover’s neck, for a moment just breathing him in and wrapping himself around Cardan like a snake around a warm limb. Rarely does he have the opportunity to hug his husband like this from behind, as Cardan is so fond of doing to him. In a way it feels secretive, like he can only express the full warmth of his feelings for Cardan when Cardan cannot see him.
But after a moment he releases his husband, reaching for one of the lotions near the tub so he can coat his wet hands.]
I’m curious; how did your story end, after the prince met with the forest hag? If you finished it, I do not recall the details.
[ It's true: Liem does live to serve, often more so than Cardan would prefer for him to. Though even he cannot find a reason to complain when Liem wraps himself around him. His eyes slide shut; the cool mouth at his nape, now in stark contrast to the heat of the bath, prompts a soft, wanting shiver from him. He still feels exposed, but it is a price worth paying for his husband's pleasure. ]
I didn't, [ he confirms, once Liem retreats and he can trust his voice again. He had spent the last bit of their dream time meandering through the tale, afraid that Liem's wakefulness would outlast it.
It is a happy story; he supposes it is worth finishing. Nonetheless, he will arch back, resting the back of his head on Liem's shoulder -- and nevermind whatever Liem's attempting to do with his hands -- so he can glance up at his husband from the side. ]
[Liem glances down to meet Cardan’s look, one brow raised with curiosity. What Cardan had volunteered freely before, he now puts a price on. Liem might have objected to this sudden change, except that he delights in granting his husband’s requests, and sees no hardship in being granted the opportunity to do so now.
And anyway, he is more interested in getting his hands on Cardan than in haggling with him. When Cardan leans back against him, Liem once again parts his arms to accommodate his husband. Now, however, he slides his lotion-slicked palms up Cardan’s chest, seeking the joins of muscle where chest meets collarbone and shoulder. He leans his cheek companionably against Cardan’s as he kneads tight little circles into bath-warmed muscle.]
I am happy to oblige. What boon would you have of me?
Mm. [ It's an interesting position to be in -- though he is distracted, nigh-immediately, by the transit of Liem's slick touch up his chest. It's worse, somehow, that he can't watch Liem's hands and his face at the same time -- not that he can see much of Liem's face, regardless.
Perhaps it's the combination of drink and the bath's heat, but he finds himself a little breathless already. ]
I wish for an outing, once we return to Ironside. To the woods. I want to meet your wolves again.
[ Under better circumstances, he doesn't say, because he doubts either of them wants to recall the exact events surrounding that first introduction. It's not worth considering now; Cardan pushes the memory from his thoughts, focusing on the touch at his shoulders.
He suspects that Liem's plans for tending to him will test his impatience. It's unfortunate, then, that Cardan already feels desire coil in his belly, tense and eager. He wants those slick hands everywhere, wants Liem's mouth and Liem's touch and Liem's desire. Still, he won't push -- not yet, anyway. Instead, he slides one wet hand up into Liem's hair, and asks, ] What are you doing, husband?
[If anything, Cardan’s request pleases Liem; he recalls enjoying the spectacle of his husband overrun by curious wolflings, and he wonders how Cardan might find the experience now that the pups have had a few months to grow. And at the very least, Liem always enjoys outings to the forest with his husband.
For now, however, he is busy with attempting to occupy Cardan’s thoughts as thoroughly and as pleasantly as possible. The suspicion this seems to earn from his spouse only makes a smile threaten to overtake him as he conducts a deliberate exploration of Cardan’s chest and shoulders.]
It is called a massage, [he explains patiently, pretending that this is the question Cardan asked him.] I thought that since you granted me leave to play bath attendant, I may as well be thorough in executing my duties.
[Not that any bath attendant of his ever climbed into the tub with him, but he didn’t stop being Cardan’s husband or lover when he decided to bathe him. He can do multiple things at once—and he is enjoying himself too much to regret doing things this way.]
I know what a massage is, [ Cardan gripes, though there is not much heat behind his indignation. Liem's evasiveness is suspicious, obviously, but the heat of the bath is getting to him; it is impossible not to melt against Liem just a little, to let his eyes slide shut and sigh into his husband's indulgent touch.
He's not relaxed, however, and he will still complain -- even as he turns his head to brush his mouth over Liem's jaw, incongruously tender. ]
If your plan is to fuck around and drive me insane, you should at least tell me so.
[ Of course, Cardan wouldn't be telling Liem any such thing if their roles were reversed -- but that's neither here nor there. Because, whether he intends it or not, Liem is going to drive Cardan insane. Somehow, his husband's good-natured patience only ever eggs him on; he's already impatient, and Liem has hardly even touched him.
But that's fine. That's the kind of problem Liem seems to enjoy best: the kind that's horny, rude, and demanding of his attention. After the morning they've had, Cardan is only too happy to provide. ]
[The sound of Cardan’s sigh and the weight of his body subsiding just a bit more against him make a mix of satisfaction and relief bloom in Liem’s chest. Coaxing ease from his husband always makes Liem feel helplessly happy; he never expected to earn his trust, and every time Cardan allows him free rein with his person, Liem feels like he has ended up in possession of some treasure that was never meant for him.
He slides his hands around to knead Cardan’s shoulders from another angle, methodical and firm and yet stubbornly gentle. His thumbs carve twin paths along his shoulders and up the back of his neck, sneaking between their bodies even as his husband is leaning against him.]
My plan, [he says, tipping his head slightly at the warm brush of Cardan’s mouth against his jaw,] is to explore thoroughly more ways by which my hands might bring you pleasure. If that drives you insane, it will be incidental to my main goal.
[He’s just intending to spend a while getting his hands all over his husband. If Cardan goes insane because of it, that’s his business.]
Lean forward, husband, [he suggests,] and I shall apply my efforts to more of you.
[ Despite himself, he can't help the soft sound of pleasure that escapes him when Liem's slick thumbs work their way up his shoulders, his neck. Liem is right to choose this way of driving him up the wall: he is ever vulnerable to the strength and control in those capable, elegant hands.
Still, he flops a little more, flinging his arms over the sides of the tub in demonstrative dejection. ]
How shamelessly my husband lies to my very face.
[ The sigh is equally dramatic. ]
Unfortunately, it is terribly attractive.
[ And so he has no choice but to do as he's bid -- although not before stretching up to kiss Liem's cheek. Only then does Cardan deign to sit up and lean forward, bracing his elbows over his knees. ]
[It’s all right that Cardan doesn’t believe Liem when he says he isn’t trying to drive him insane. Liem truly would be happy if he managed to make his husband bonelessly relaxed instead, but he has always found Cardan’s frustration irresistible, and he certainly isn’t dissuaded from his course by his husband’s agitation.
Besides, Cardan wears it so delightfully. How is Liem meant to resist his lazy kiss or his exaggerated, put-on melancholy? His husband could earn whatever favours he liked with a performance like this one, and never mind that Liem isn’t fooled for a second. He is too enamoured with indulging his husband’s whims for that to matter even a little. ]
I could never lie about wanting my hands on you. That is my permanent state of being.
[Those hands continue to rub tight little circles up from the base of Cardan’s neck, not yet delving lower towards lash-scarred skin. He is still hungry for more of his husband’s earnest sighs rather than his pretend ones.]
You are so delightfully warm. And… I cannot resist what you so obviously enjoy.
[ Cardan's laugh is surprised, despite that Liem has not told him anything that should be news. ]
I feel feverish, when I'm with you.
[ Perhaps he is. Perhaps he has adjusted to the cold winter of Ironside and his husband's cool touch by running warmer than before. The thought is oddly pleasing -- to belong with someone so thoroughly that even one's physiology might follow suit. He likes it perhaps a little too much.
Still, he also cannot help feeling restless without the ability to touch Liem in return. It is in service of such that he runs light fingers over the inside of his husband's thigh under the water, tracing bath-warmed skin. It is ever strange to have Liem be warm -- it makes him long to lean against him again, to feel him fully against his back.
Unfortunately, he is also vulnerable to Liem's whims at times like these. If this is what he wishes to spend his time with, if this is what will soothe him after his hours in the twilight of his dream, then how can Cardan do anything but let him?
He inhales, trying to gather his thoughts, scattered as they have been by liquor and his husband's touch. He had, after all, promised Liem: ]
Please do, [Liem invites. He ever loves hearing his husband speak about new and unfamiliar things, and a story he hasn’t heard before certainly falls into this category. He is eager to hear its conclusion, told in Cardan’s familiar cadence.
And he doesn’t mind at all if his husband lets his touch linger on his thigh as he speaks. The shivery pleasure of fingers skimming there poses a distraction he is happy to weather. If it makes him wish that they were touching in other ways as well, then—there is time for that yet. He has much practice cultivating the pleasure of anticipation.
Despite the caress dividing his attention, Liem addresses his wandering hands to the task of working down either side of Cardan’s spine, making slow and methodical progress as he listens to his husband. He is attentive as well to the feel and tension of him beneath his hands, lest his explorations lead him somewhere Cardan finds uncomfortable.]
[ He is ever sensitive, unable to help his little shiver as Liem's hands make their way down. It's worse for not being able to see Liem, of course -- worse in the sense of being more unpredictable, and thus difficult to hide the pleasure that sighs out of him whenever Liem's fingers hit on a particularly tense spot. He leans his forehead against his forearm, but his other hand stays in the vicinity of Liem's knee, thumb stroking idly along its inside. It feels oddly comforting, to have at least a part of him subject to Cardan's touch.
And he tells the tale, doing his best to keep his voice even, though there are inevitable stutters, here and there, when Liem's touch distracts his breath into hitching. He tells his husband how the prince followed the magic thread to the evil witch's lair; how he found his beloved; and how he faced down the villain. ]
...and he fought her valiantly, and with much skill -- for he'd had the best instructors in the land, and had heeded their lessons well... for lack of other, more interesting hobbies.
But, as you might recall, the witch's death had been hidden away, and so none of the prince's blows would strike her heart, no matter how true.
[It is a most pleasing diversion, working his hands over Cardan’s back—delightful in and of itself—while enjoying both his husband’s tale and the unbidden sounds of his pleasure. It warms Liem just as much as the hot bath does, to coax his stubborn, willful spouse into letting him do this. Much as he knows that Cardan enjoys touching him, unspooling his poise to wrap him in bliss instead, he is ever hungry for the chance to do the same to his lover. The more leeway Cardan gives him, the more Liem wants to use it.]
How frustrating...
[He leans forward, and his murmur brushes the back of one shoulder blade as he dips his head to kiss a pale scar crossing it. His hands continue their work lower down, kneading Cardan’s lower back, below the surface of the heated water.]
Could the prince not defeat her without killing her?
[Perhaps this prince was only valiant and tireless, rather than clever. In that case, it was surely foolish to face the witch before locating her hidden death.]
[ He blinks. The irony of Liem's asking this specific question strikes him immediately... but it is difficult to give it much focus with the soft, cool mouth pressing to sensitive skin, with Liem's surprisingly skilled touch demanding his attention. His intake of breath is a little shaky; he must pause to muster his voice back to an even tone before he continues. ]
And leave the villain unpunished? Certainly not.
[ Such is the way of things in fairy tales: someone always suffers. ]
The crow knight had found her death, you see: she'd hidden it inside a chest atop a tall spruce, so high up that its branches reached the low clouds. But how should the prince get such a thing? He could not climb while parrying the blows of her blade, and if he let his guard down, she would surely wound him grievously.
[ Which is, naturally, where the animals he'd spared make a return. First the bear, to shake the tree so that the chest falls down and breaks open -- revealing a hare who takes off, pursued by the prince's fox -- and when the hare is captured and torn apart, its remains spit forth a mallard, who escapes onto a lake -- and when the mallard is caught by the duck the prince spared, it disgorges an egg. ]
...And inside that egg, finally, was the golden needle with the witch's death.
[ He's a little breathless as he finishes, and not only because of the long-windedness of that particular sequence. For all that he manages to keep his voice controlled and the story semi-coherent, he can't help the aborted little squirms and shivers Liem teases out of him every now and again. His control over his tail is, as usual, nonexistent; though, if it has splashed Liem once or twice, it's no less than his opportunistic husband deserves. ]
[Cardan’s answer makes Liem’s brows lift briefly with surprise. It is not the reason he’d expected; after all, a corpse cares not about any punishment. But he accepts the answer nonetheless, because it is only a story, and he has no wish to interrupt it with his dour opinions about the appropriate ways to dispense justly earned vengeance.
He will focus instead on paying the appropriate attention to his husband’s back, even if his unruly tail has become a hazard because of it. Liem can scarcely get much wetter than he already is, anyway. He willingly accepts the risk of being slapped with wet hair in order to enjoy a version of his husband that is so shivery and breathless.]
What a perplexing security system.
[It seems more whimsical than effective, though he has to admit this might just be the norm for faerie stories. He would much rather spend his attention on his husband rather than on puzzling over a witch’s bizarre obsession with small animals, though, and he stamps another kiss against the damp skin of Cardan’s shoulder.]
[ He is, truth be told, getting a little tired of the story. He wants less storytelling and more of his husband's touch -- for all that he's had Liem's full attention for the past little while. The mouth on his shoulder is a tease, and the fact Liem's hands have determinedly avoided straying from their task is making him increasingly impatient. ]
The prince and his knight finally wed; the bear officiates. The knight convinces the prince not to return to his terrible father, as he is tired of riddles and tasks. Instead, they make their home in the witch's castle, and live happily ever after in marital bliss.
[ The end. And if it is a little hurried, surely Liem will forgive him -- as he need forgive Cardan reaching back to grasp his hands and pull them against his ribs as he leans back, thus forcing his husband to enfold him in an embrace.
[Liem can tell from the brusqueness of the ending that his husband has grown impatient with the bargain he’s made. He smiles as Cardan’s hands reach back to find his own, and as his husband leans back against him, Liem reclines as well, taking Cardan with him as he lies back against the tub’s edge, sinking deeper into the water. He needs no further coaxing to wrap his arms around him and hold him close, and as he does, he dips his head to brush leisurely kisses against the side of his neck.]
You are a delightful narrator.
[His fingers splay over Cardan’s chest as he observes this, sliding with lazy possessiveness over his body. He doesn’t know how successful his scheme to distract his spouse from his thoughts has been, but certainly Liem himself is now fully absorbed in the man he has in his arms. And there is never, ever a time when he is not happy to drop what he’s doing and hold Cardan close, regardless of the circumstance.]
It seems unmeet that I cannot repay you for your story until after we have returned home. Surely you have fancies that I could indulge now, as well.
[As if Liem doesn’t already know what his intemperate husband likes.]
[ Liem is being too generous; his ending was pretty sloppy, and he'd probably drawn the middle out too much -- though the latter was done out of necessity rather than restlessness. But he can't complain about being unfairly complimented, much as he'd like to complain about something. It's just that he's too restless; it's just that Liem's hands have lit a fire under his skin, as always. He should be relaxed: his husband's arms around him should be relaxing, and the hot water he sinks into should be relaxing, and Liem's lazy kisses should be relaxing -- except that Cardan cannot help the wanting noise he makes nor the hand he slides into Liem's hair, like he's scruffing a stubborn pet. He can't help the way he shivers and arches into the wandering touch of those hands, again, even as he presses up against Liem, greedy for the feel of his body. ]
Liem.
[ His low growl is equal parts affectionate and impatient. ]
I fancy you to stop fucking around and fuck me.
[ Surely they can do the rest of the erotic bath after, when Cardan isn't quite so taut with desire and desperate for Liem's touch somewhere that isn't his back. ]
[The grip of Cardan’s fingers in Liem’s hair is both familiar and charming, and he smiles against the damp skin of his husband’s neck at the inpatient tone of his voice. Liem has earned this impatience quite thoroughly, he has no doubt, for all that he never set out to make his husband insane. It is just that this often seems to be the outcome when Liem indulges his desire to get his hands all over his beloved spouse. Cardan is simply a very passionate man.]
I would love nothing more, [he agrees as his hands slide over Cardan’s body, and his mind wanders back to that day in the forest, when they’d sheltered from the rain. As his fingers brush belly and inner thigh and then close around Cardan’s cock, the situation teases him with familiarity.]
Like this?
[There is genuine question in his murmur as he strokes indulgently, his other hand trailing up to drag blunt nails over his lover’s chest. He knows well enough that he can excite Cardan further like this, but it is not how he would have guessed his husband would prefer to be fucked—even if Liem’s breath on his neck and Liem’s cock caught between them are surely pleasing in their own right.]
[ Liem is right: some part of Cardan will always want to be the one to touch, to direct, to be able to indulge his hungry whims whenever he’d like. But it is difficult to remember this when his husband’s warm fingers wrap around him, when his breath shivers over Cardan’s skin. He feels the throb of need through his entire body. Alcohol has loosened his self-restraint; nothing stops him, now, from arching into Liem’s touch, his hips moving of their own volition. His soft groan is lurid in the quiet of the room. ]
Let me— mm, let me tell you a secret, husband.
[ It’s not really a secret. Well, at least it shouldn’t be one to Liem. But still. ]
I care not about how. So long as I could have you.
[ This doesn’t answer Liem’s question, but that in itself is fair turnabout — and Cardan thinks that, perhaps, after his time wandering someone else’s trap, he’d prefer to return some measure of control to his spouse.
But despite this, when he tips his damp head back against Liem’s shoulder, when he murmurs his next direction, it is all smug, velvet-soft demand. ]
[The way Cardan groans and arches into his touch makes Liem feel suddenly alive with urgency, his languid desire shot through with need. It matters little whether or not Cardan demands that he get him off; Liem is hungry for it already, just from the rare luxury of having Cardan like this in his embrace. His body thrills with it, eager and sensitive where Cardan is leaning against him. A shiver of want passes through him as he tips his head to brush his lips against Cardan’s ear.]
I thought you would never ask.
[He desperately wants to feel Cardan come undone in his arms, to hear the pleasure in his breaths and in the racing of his heart. He wants to get his hands all over him, to let his greedy touch wander chest and flank and belly and inner thigh. He wants his mouth on Cardan’s neck and jaw, wants the sweet delight of his husband’s pulse fluttering beneath his lips. He wants all these things—and so, he devotes himself to claiming them.
Greed lives in the insistent rhythm of the hand stroking Cardan’s erection, in the hungry transit of the touch wandering Cardan’s body, and in the slow, indulgent roll of Liem’s hips as he touches him. Liem brushes his fingertips nostalgically over the soft flesh of Cardan’s inner thigh, even as he sucks a kiss over the pulse beating just below his jaw.]
One day soon, I must revisit the pleasure of biting you here, [he breathes, making gentle circles with his fingers to indicate just where he means. Not yet, though—not when it is still so soon after the last time he fed. Not when the date of their anniversary looms so close on the horizon.]
[ For once, Cardan will give Liem exactly the thing he wants: he feels like he's been waiting for hours, desire simmering hot under his skin. When Liem finally indulges him, he is overwhelmed immediately with the possessive touch mapping his body, with Liem's dangerous mouth on his vulnerable neck, with the heat and the urgency of his own desire. He moves against his lover without thinking, without bothering to hide the heated gasps and moans that escape him. It seems pointless, all of a sudden, to hold back at all, when he could be concentrating on sensation instead.
Liem's fingers on the inside of his thigh earn a hard shiver. He is terribly susceptible to the memory of that bite, of the prick of pain and the heat that blossomed in its wake, as blood rushed to his skin. He's caught in the memory of Liem's dark head bent to his thigh as he tasted Cardan's lifeblood. Never, in all of his years being a prince of Faerie, can he remember witnessing a sight more shockingly erotic. ]
I'm-- hah... surprised you haven't--
[ He hasn't let go of Liem, though the fingers in his hair are yet gentle, letting him map Cardan's skin with kisses as much as he wants. Cardan only needs him close, only wants to prevent him from pulling away, especially now that Liem is finally touching him properly. ]
You've had some opportunity. You tease.
[ Though he can only bring himself to sound so accusatory on the latter front, given the way he is increasingly breathless, his thoughts interrupted by his mounting pleasure. ]
[Rarely does Liem get to enjoy having Cardan like this: wanton and eager, too immersed in his pleasure to bother disguising it at all. Liem pursues each moan and gasp and shiver greedily, wringing them from his lover with hunger that shows in the avid kisses he stamps against Cardan’s throat and the tight, demanding strokes of the hand on his cock.
Despite his husband’s accusation, Liem has no intention of teasing now. He wants the pleasure gripping Cardan to swell until it overflows its banks; he wants it to push out every other thought or concern, so the only care his husband has is the want for more of him. Because Cardan is so irresistibly delectable like this, with his fingers in Liem’s hair, luxuriating in the tide of pleasure he demanded Liem down him in. It awakens some feral obsession in Liem, the awareness that it is his touch and his hunger swallowing Cardan up in sensation. Each time Cardan groans into the stroke of his hand or shivers at his caress, that madness only seems to grow.]
There is no shortage of indulgences I wish to inflict upon you, [he murmurs against Cardan’s ear between panting, hurried breaths. So often he enjoys the reverse, but he cannot help but want for himself the same pleasure his husband so regularly enjoys. Greedily, his wandering hand climbs from Cardan’s thigh to roll one taut nipple between his fingers.]
I am ever hungry for your appetite, Cardan. It does not make deliberation easy.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Cardan is not the only one who might be tempted to change his mind about consenting to be parted.
Still, he lets his husband pull away and slide into the heated water. Liem watches him with a warm, hungry regard, even as he reaches down to free himself of the rest of his own clothing. In moments his trousers are unfastened and he strips them off along with his socks; he takes only another moment to peruse the small selection of bottles near the tub’s edge before leaning over his husband.]
Slide forward if you please. I wish to tend to your back and shoulders, but I did promise we would bathe together. I see no reason not to do both at once.
no subject
...but he doesn't. After a moment longer spent staring up at Liem, he will sit up out of his recline, moving forward so that his husband has room to get in behind him. He doesn't know why it still makes him nervous, somehow, to have Liem focused on his back; he's not ashamed of the scars, and Liem has never commented on them, regardless. Perhaps it's just that it feels vulnerable to be exposed to someone's gaze without being able to return the favour.
In some ways, that's a thrill. Still, he reaches down to reign in his twitchy tail, stilling it against his own thigh, lest it get pinned in some unfortunate position between them. ]
no subject
But Cardan gives way after all, tucking his unruly tail out of the way as he does, and Liem is only too happy to slide behind him into the heated water.]
I live to serve, husband.
[He leans forward to plant a kiss at the nape of his lover’s neck, for a moment just breathing him in and wrapping himself around Cardan like a snake around a warm limb. Rarely does he have the opportunity to hug his husband like this from behind, as Cardan is so fond of doing to him. In a way it feels secretive, like he can only express the full warmth of his feelings for Cardan when Cardan cannot see him.
But after a moment he releases his husband, reaching for one of the lotions near the tub so he can coat his wet hands.]
I’m curious; how did your story end, after the prince met with the forest hag? If you finished it, I do not recall the details.
no subject
I didn't, [ he confirms, once Liem retreats and he can trust his voice again. He had spent the last bit of their dream time meandering through the tale, afraid that Liem's wakefulness would outlast it.
It is a happy story; he supposes it is worth finishing. Nonetheless, he will arch back, resting the back of his head on Liem's shoulder -- and nevermind whatever Liem's attempting to do with his hands -- so he can glance up at his husband from the side. ]
I shall tell you, husband, in return for a boon.
no subject
[Liem glances down to meet Cardan’s look, one brow raised with curiosity. What Cardan had volunteered freely before, he now puts a price on. Liem might have objected to this sudden change, except that he delights in granting his husband’s requests, and sees no hardship in being granted the opportunity to do so now.
And anyway, he is more interested in getting his hands on Cardan than in haggling with him. When Cardan leans back against him, Liem once again parts his arms to accommodate his husband. Now, however, he slides his lotion-slicked palms up Cardan’s chest, seeking the joins of muscle where chest meets collarbone and shoulder. He leans his cheek companionably against Cardan’s as he kneads tight little circles into bath-warmed muscle.]
I am happy to oblige. What boon would you have of me?
no subject
Perhaps it's the combination of drink and the bath's heat, but he finds himself a little breathless already. ]
I wish for an outing, once we return to Ironside. To the woods. I want to meet your wolves again.
[ Under better circumstances, he doesn't say, because he doubts either of them wants to recall the exact events surrounding that first introduction. It's not worth considering now; Cardan pushes the memory from his thoughts, focusing on the touch at his shoulders.
He suspects that Liem's plans for tending to him will test his impatience. It's unfortunate, then, that Cardan already feels desire coil in his belly, tense and eager. He wants those slick hands everywhere, wants Liem's mouth and Liem's touch and Liem's desire. Still, he won't push -- not yet, anyway. Instead, he slides one wet hand up into Liem's hair, and asks, ] What are you doing, husband?
[ What are you scheming, is what he means. ]
no subject
[If anything, Cardan’s request pleases Liem; he recalls enjoying the spectacle of his husband overrun by curious wolflings, and he wonders how Cardan might find the experience now that the pups have had a few months to grow. And at the very least, Liem always enjoys outings to the forest with his husband.
For now, however, he is busy with attempting to occupy Cardan’s thoughts as thoroughly and as pleasantly as possible. The suspicion this seems to earn from his spouse only makes a smile threaten to overtake him as he conducts a deliberate exploration of Cardan’s chest and shoulders.]
It is called a massage, [he explains patiently, pretending that this is the question Cardan asked him.] I thought that since you granted me leave to play bath attendant, I may as well be thorough in executing my duties.
[Not that any bath attendant of his ever climbed into the tub with him, but he didn’t stop being Cardan’s husband or lover when he decided to bathe him. He can do multiple things at once—and he is enjoying himself too much to regret doing things this way.]
no subject
He's not relaxed, however, and he will still complain -- even as he turns his head to brush his mouth over Liem's jaw, incongruously tender. ]
If your plan is to fuck around and drive me insane, you should at least tell me so.
[ Of course, Cardan wouldn't be telling Liem any such thing if their roles were reversed -- but that's neither here nor there. Because, whether he intends it or not, Liem is going to drive Cardan insane. Somehow, his husband's good-natured patience only ever eggs him on; he's already impatient, and Liem has hardly even touched him.
But that's fine. That's the kind of problem Liem seems to enjoy best: the kind that's horny, rude, and demanding of his attention. After the morning they've had, Cardan is only too happy to provide. ]
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He slides his hands around to knead Cardan’s shoulders from another angle, methodical and firm and yet stubbornly gentle. His thumbs carve twin paths along his shoulders and up the back of his neck, sneaking between their bodies even as his husband is leaning against him.]
My plan, [he says, tipping his head slightly at the warm brush of Cardan’s mouth against his jaw,] is to explore thoroughly more ways by which my hands might bring you pleasure. If that drives you insane, it will be incidental to my main goal.
[He’s just intending to spend a while getting his hands all over his husband. If Cardan goes insane because of it, that’s his business.]
Lean forward, husband, [he suggests,] and I shall apply my efforts to more of you.
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Still, he flops a little more, flinging his arms over the sides of the tub in demonstrative dejection. ]
How shamelessly my husband lies to my very face.
[ The sigh is equally dramatic. ]
Unfortunately, it is terribly attractive.
[ And so he has no choice but to do as he's bid -- although not before stretching up to kiss Liem's cheek. Only then does Cardan deign to sit up and lean forward, bracing his elbows over his knees. ]
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Besides, Cardan wears it so delightfully. How is Liem meant to resist his lazy kiss or his exaggerated, put-on melancholy? His husband could earn whatever favours he liked with a performance like this one, and never mind that Liem isn’t fooled for a second. He is too enamoured with indulging his husband’s whims for that to matter even a little. ]
I could never lie about wanting my hands on you. That is my permanent state of being.
[Those hands continue to rub tight little circles up from the base of Cardan’s neck, not yet delving lower towards lash-scarred skin. He is still hungry for more of his husband’s earnest sighs rather than his pretend ones.]
You are so delightfully warm. And… I cannot resist what you so obviously enjoy.
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I feel feverish, when I'm with you.
[ Perhaps he is. Perhaps he has adjusted to the cold winter of Ironside and his husband's cool touch by running warmer than before. The thought is oddly pleasing -- to belong with someone so thoroughly that even one's physiology might follow suit. He likes it perhaps a little too much.
Still, he also cannot help feeling restless without the ability to touch Liem in return. It is in service of such that he runs light fingers over the inside of his husband's thigh under the water, tracing bath-warmed skin. It is ever strange to have Liem be warm -- it makes him long to lean against him again, to feel him fully against his back.
Unfortunately, he is also vulnerable to Liem's whims at times like these. If this is what he wishes to spend his time with, if this is what will soothe him after his hours in the twilight of his dream, then how can Cardan do anything but let him?
He inhales, trying to gather his thoughts, scattered as they have been by liquor and his husband's touch. He had, after all, promised Liem: ]
The story, then. Shall I?
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And he doesn’t mind at all if his husband lets his touch linger on his thigh as he speaks. The shivery pleasure of fingers skimming there poses a distraction he is happy to weather. If it makes him wish that they were touching in other ways as well, then—there is time for that yet. He has much practice cultivating the pleasure of anticipation.
Despite the caress dividing his attention, Liem addresses his wandering hands to the task of working down either side of Cardan’s spine, making slow and methodical progress as he listens to his husband. He is attentive as well to the feel and tension of him beneath his hands, lest his explorations lead him somewhere Cardan finds uncomfortable.]
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And he tells the tale, doing his best to keep his voice even, though there are inevitable stutters, here and there, when Liem's touch distracts his breath into hitching. He tells his husband how the prince followed the magic thread to the evil witch's lair; how he found his beloved; and how he faced down the villain. ]
...and he fought her valiantly, and with much skill -- for he'd had the best instructors in the land, and had heeded their lessons well... for lack of other, more interesting hobbies.
But, as you might recall, the witch's death had been hidden away, and so none of the prince's blows would strike her heart, no matter how true.
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How frustrating...
[He leans forward, and his murmur brushes the back of one shoulder blade as he dips his head to kiss a pale scar crossing it. His hands continue their work lower down, kneading Cardan’s lower back, below the surface of the heated water.]
Could the prince not defeat her without killing her?
[Perhaps this prince was only valiant and tireless, rather than clever. In that case, it was surely foolish to face the witch before locating her hidden death.]
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And leave the villain unpunished? Certainly not.
[ Such is the way of things in fairy tales: someone always suffers. ]
The crow knight had found her death, you see: she'd hidden it inside a chest atop a tall spruce, so high up that its branches reached the low clouds. But how should the prince get such a thing? He could not climb while parrying the blows of her blade, and if he let his guard down, she would surely wound him grievously.
[ Which is, naturally, where the animals he'd spared make a return. First the bear, to shake the tree so that the chest falls down and breaks open -- revealing a hare who takes off, pursued by the prince's fox -- and when the hare is captured and torn apart, its remains spit forth a mallard, who escapes onto a lake -- and when the mallard is caught by the duck the prince spared, it disgorges an egg. ]
...And inside that egg, finally, was the golden needle with the witch's death.
[ He's a little breathless as he finishes, and not only because of the long-windedness of that particular sequence. For all that he manages to keep his voice controlled and the story semi-coherent, he can't help the aborted little squirms and shivers Liem teases out of him every now and again. His control over his tail is, as usual, nonexistent; though, if it has splashed Liem once or twice, it's no less than his opportunistic husband deserves. ]
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He will focus instead on paying the appropriate attention to his husband’s back, even if his unruly tail has become a hazard because of it. Liem can scarcely get much wetter than he already is, anyway. He willingly accepts the risk of being slapped with wet hair in order to enjoy a version of his husband that is so shivery and breathless.]
What a perplexing security system.
[It seems more whimsical than effective, though he has to admit this might just be the norm for faerie stories. He would much rather spend his attention on his husband rather than on puzzling over a witch’s bizarre obsession with small animals, though, and he stamps another kiss against the damp skin of Cardan’s shoulder.]
What then, O story teller?
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[ He is, truth be told, getting a little tired of the story. He wants less storytelling and more of his husband's touch -- for all that he's had Liem's full attention for the past little while. The mouth on his shoulder is a tease, and the fact Liem's hands have determinedly avoided straying from their task is making him increasingly impatient. ]
The prince and his knight finally wed; the bear officiates. The knight convinces the prince not to return to his terrible father, as he is tired of riddles and tasks. Instead, they make their home in the witch's castle, and live happily ever after in marital bliss.
[ The end. And if it is a little hurried, surely Liem will forgive him -- as he need forgive Cardan reaching back to grasp his hands and pull them against his ribs as he leans back, thus forcing his husband to enfold him in an embrace.
He's still breathless. But that's fine. ]
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You are a delightful narrator.
[His fingers splay over Cardan’s chest as he observes this, sliding with lazy possessiveness over his body. He doesn’t know how successful his scheme to distract his spouse from his thoughts has been, but certainly Liem himself is now fully absorbed in the man he has in his arms. And there is never, ever a time when he is not happy to drop what he’s doing and hold Cardan close, regardless of the circumstance.]
It seems unmeet that I cannot repay you for your story until after we have returned home. Surely you have fancies that I could indulge now, as well.
[As if Liem doesn’t already know what his intemperate husband likes.]
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Liem.
[ His low growl is equal parts affectionate and impatient. ]
I fancy you to stop fucking around and fuck me.
[ Surely they can do the rest of the erotic bath after, when Cardan isn't quite so taut with desire and desperate for Liem's touch somewhere that isn't his back. ]
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I would love nothing more, [he agrees as his hands slide over Cardan’s body, and his mind wanders back to that day in the forest, when they’d sheltered from the rain. As his fingers brush belly and inner thigh and then close around Cardan’s cock, the situation teases him with familiarity.]
Like this?
[There is genuine question in his murmur as he strokes indulgently, his other hand trailing up to drag blunt nails over his lover’s chest. He knows well enough that he can excite Cardan further like this, but it is not how he would have guessed his husband would prefer to be fucked—even if Liem’s breath on his neck and Liem’s cock caught between them are surely pleasing in their own right.]
Or—did you have something else in mind?
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Let me— mm, let me tell you a secret, husband.
[ It’s not really a secret. Well, at least it shouldn’t be one to Liem. But still. ]
I care not about how. So long as I could have you.
[ This doesn’t answer Liem’s question, but that in itself is fair turnabout — and Cardan thinks that, perhaps, after his time wandering someone else’s trap, he’d prefer to return some measure of control to his spouse.
But despite this, when he tips his damp head back against Liem’s shoulder, when he murmurs his next direction, it is all smug, velvet-soft demand. ]
Make me come, Liem, would you?
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I thought you would never ask.
[He desperately wants to feel Cardan come undone in his arms, to hear the pleasure in his breaths and in the racing of his heart. He wants to get his hands all over him, to let his greedy touch wander chest and flank and belly and inner thigh. He wants his mouth on Cardan’s neck and jaw, wants the sweet delight of his husband’s pulse fluttering beneath his lips. He wants all these things—and so, he devotes himself to claiming them.
Greed lives in the insistent rhythm of the hand stroking Cardan’s erection, in the hungry transit of the touch wandering Cardan’s body, and in the slow, indulgent roll of Liem’s hips as he touches him. Liem brushes his fingertips nostalgically over the soft flesh of Cardan’s inner thigh, even as he sucks a kiss over the pulse beating just below his jaw.]
One day soon, I must revisit the pleasure of biting you here, [he breathes, making gentle circles with his fingers to indicate just where he means. Not yet, though—not when it is still so soon after the last time he fed. Not when the date of their anniversary looms so close on the horizon.]
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Liem's fingers on the inside of his thigh earn a hard shiver. He is terribly susceptible to the memory of that bite, of the prick of pain and the heat that blossomed in its wake, as blood rushed to his skin. He's caught in the memory of Liem's dark head bent to his thigh as he tasted Cardan's lifeblood. Never, in all of his years being a prince of Faerie, can he remember witnessing a sight more shockingly erotic. ]
I'm-- hah... surprised you haven't--
[ He hasn't let go of Liem, though the fingers in his hair are yet gentle, letting him map Cardan's skin with kisses as much as he wants. Cardan only needs him close, only wants to prevent him from pulling away, especially now that Liem is finally touching him properly. ]
You've had some opportunity. You tease.
[ Though he can only bring himself to sound so accusatory on the latter front, given the way he is increasingly breathless, his thoughts interrupted by his mounting pleasure. ]
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Despite his husband’s accusation, Liem has no intention of teasing now. He wants the pleasure gripping Cardan to swell until it overflows its banks; he wants it to push out every other thought or concern, so the only care his husband has is the want for more of him. Because Cardan is so irresistibly delectable like this, with his fingers in Liem’s hair, luxuriating in the tide of pleasure he demanded Liem down him in. It awakens some feral obsession in Liem, the awareness that it is his touch and his hunger swallowing Cardan up in sensation. Each time Cardan groans into the stroke of his hand or shivers at his caress, that madness only seems to grow.]
There is no shortage of indulgences I wish to inflict upon you, [he murmurs against Cardan’s ear between panting, hurried breaths. So often he enjoys the reverse, but he cannot help but want for himself the same pleasure his husband so regularly enjoys. Greedily, his wandering hand climbs from Cardan’s thigh to roll one taut nipple between his fingers.]
I am ever hungry for your appetite, Cardan. It does not make deliberation easy.
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