[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.
[ He hisses at the tease of fingers on his chest; it shudders through him, heated and lightning-quick. And still, and still, despite the deluge of pleasure swallowing him up, Liem’s quick breaths filter through to his awareness — but then, how could they not? He is ever the eye of Cardan’s storm, the center of his thoughts. He closes his eyes and thinks about Liem’s predator’s grace, and his elegant hands, and the way he must look wrapped around Cardan, his intent blue gaze focused and sharp— ]
Harder, [ he will gasp. He wants Liem to be a little ruthless. He wants to say, Tell me all about those indulgences. Tell me what you want to do to me. But he’s too close, and the unforgiving rhythm of Liem’s hand on him leaves him no room for idle musing. He can only let it take him, searing through him stroke by stroke, heartbeat by heartbeat, until he’s scoured of anything but need, anything but Liem’s scent and his touch and that maddening, dangerous, terribly gentle mouth. ]
You’re so— irresistible— fuck…
[ The fingers in Liem’s hair will tighten, just then, as he goes taut and senseless with pleasure — because Cardan needs him so awfully much, more than anyone or anything he’s ever needed before.
[For all his habitual gentleness, Liem needs no second prompting to grant Cardan’s wish. He wants him senseless and overwhelmed with sensation, whether that be the demanding rhythm of the hand on him, the hungry caress of Liem’s mouth on his jaw, or the touch at his chest that goes from teasing to suddenly ruthless. Liem’s only regret just now is that he cannot bite his husband without drawing blood, for he would very much like to, and he is certain Cardan wants it. But the pinch of fingers and drag of nails over flushed skin must suffice, since Liem is not presently of a mind to tease Cardan with nibbles and nips he has no intent to follow up on.
But he is still greedy for Cardan’s release, and he will push him up against it and over with determined hunger, feeling his own need beat wild and heady beneath his skin as the grip in his hair tightens and Cardan goes taut against him. He never tires of seeing his husband like this, abandoned with bliss and painfully lovely for it.
I will never be sane again, he thinks, wrapped tight around this man who makes his restraint evaporate and turns his thoughts blank with need. He cannot resist him, and he doubts there will ever come a day that he can.
He can only hold Cardan close and continue to press breathless, wandering kisses wherever his mouth can reach, and hope senselessly that this moment will last forever.]
[ For a perfect, endless moment, he only knows bliss -- wrapped in Liem's touch and his greed and his affection. He stares blindly at the ceiling, his lips parted around his harsh breaths, and it is only some moments after he subsides bonelessly against Liem that he even remembers to blink.
Liem's mouth on his skin is still distracting; his skin feels hot, oversensitized in the wake of orgasm. It gives him no room to rest, that mouth, and just barely enough to catch his breath -- and then, he'll have to move. It is a monumental effort, after all this, to flip himself over, but he does. He must slide his hand from Liem's hair to do so, dragging himself up and around, so that he can straddle his husband's lap with a covetous little sigh.
Because: Cardan wants to kiss him. He wants to feel those restless breaths against his lips, wants to catch Liem's face between his hands and trap him there while Cardan claims him as thoroughly and fervently as his heart desires. And so he will. And so he does. ]
[Liem is always loath to let Cardan go. Even now, with lust aching between his thighs and the lure of Cardan’s kisses looming large in his mind, he is jealous of the indulgent pleasure of having his lover reclined against him, warm and solid and aglow with release. The moment seems far too transient, and he likes it far too much.
But he likes Cardan’s hot kisses also, so when his husband drags himself up, Liem will let him go. He is more starved for Cardan’s affection than he wants to admit, after the lonely trials of his dream. There have always been things in their marriage that have gone unsaid and unaddressed, and now especially, Liem covets the simple joy of drowning himself in Cardan as if nothing else in the world could possibly matter at all. As if nothing he witnessed or endured in that dream had any more substance than a passing thought.
He wants Cardan’s avid kisses, and he wants those elegant hands on his face, and he wants the weight of him in his lap, pressed close and insistent. Liem stretches up to meet him as Cardan dips to claim his kisses, and as his arms slide around him again, he can only feel relief that everything is once again just as it should be.]
[ It no longer surprises him: the way his desire feels endless, unextinguishable. He should be satisfied, given his climax mere moments ago, and yet hunger still insinuates itself under his skin. When he draws his hands over Liem’s neck, down his shoulders, chest, dipping into the water to skim his palms over his flanks, it’s with a possessive relief. He’s here; he’s whole; he’s Cardan’s. Nothing could be more viscerally gratifying.
But eventually, his disappointing need to breathe pulls him away from Liem’s delectable mouth. He takes the opportunity to lean his forehead against his husband’s, stroking thoughtful fingertips over Liem’s ribs underwater. If this makes Liem ticklish — well, Cardan wishes to pet him, and given that he has solved many other problems this day, he does not feel like solving this one.
Besides: he finds himself particularly distractible in Liem’s close proximity. He’s still breathless when he rolls his hips against Liem’s, the movement slow and indulgent. Liem hasn’t come, and the hard erection trapped between their bodies sends a hot little pang of lust through Cardan all over again. His grin is unabashedly, sharply delighted. ]
[The hands on him feel right. The relentless kisses feel right. His husband’s bright, bold scent and the warm solidity of him in Liem’s arms feels right. Even the slightly ticklish stroke of idle petting along his ribs feels perfect, because he is just where he wishes to be, in the arms of the man whose affection he craves above all others. The roll of Cardan’s hips against him makes Liem’s breath catch in his lungs, inflaming the addictive greed still torturing him with every heated touch, and that torment is perfect, too.
At this moment, he wants for nothing, and he can very easily imagine giving Cardan just the same answer he received when he posed this same question only minutes ago.
But of course, he still wants to please his husband—and it has not escaped his notice that Cardan enjoys it when Liem voices his desires. Fulfilling them seems like a delightful game for his spouse, which Liem has no wish to rob him of.
And besides, he only wants what Cardan is always so pleased to provide.]
I want to be in your lap.
[Cardan’s weight straddling him is delightful, but Liem has had his fun getting his hands all over his spouse. Now he would like Cardan’s hands all over him, and this is not the ideal position for that desire. Illustratively, Liem’s own touch travels languidly up Cardan’s back and around to his chest, then sweeps smoothly back down his flanks to the lean muscles of his ass and thighs.]
Mm. [ His eyes slide shut with the pleasure of Liem's hands on him; he finds himself momentarily uninclined to indulge Liem, after all. Perhaps he could simply stay here, and keep kissing him as desire coiled sweetly in his veins, building up into impatience, then desperation--
But he did ask, after all. And he is not about to deny Liem now. ]
Oh? What happened to attending me, Liem?
[ It's a frivolous complaint; amusement curls around the edges of it. Still, he will lean in to steal just one more lingering, indulgent kiss-- and then commit to the effort of moving again, careless of the water splashing as he maneuvers himself to the other end of the tub. Once he's at the opposite edge -- far enough to have some room -- he will take a gulp of air and slide under the water entirely, surfacing some seconds later. Only then does he settle against the edge of the tub, pushing wet black hair out of his face.
And still, his gaze on Liem is intently focused, belying his casual little smirk. He extends his hand, fingers waggling impatiently for Liem to follow him. Because Cardan wants to put his hands and his mouth all over him, too, cannot wait to have Liem close and solid on top of him, where he belongs. ]
[Cardan’s playful complaint persuades a smile onto Liem’s face, one that remains even as his spouse leans in to steal another kiss. He is more than happy to remain like this, with his hungry hands roaming Cardan’s body and Cardan’s kisses demanding his attention. Perhaps his husband would like that as well. But he doubts there is ever a time when this wouldn’t be true.
He murmurs against his husband’s warm mouth,] That isn’t what you asked.
[No, his hunger to have Cardan’s sighs and gasps of pleasure have not receded. Even the memory of his lover coming undone in his arms makes his erection ache with impatience where it is, trapped between them.
And still, if he were to contemplate his own release… he would want it to be at Cardan’s hands. More importantly, he wants it to be at Cardan’s whim.
Heeding the beckoning of Cardan’s long fingers, Liem follows him towards the tub’s other edge and climbs obligingly into his lap, draping his arms over his shoulders. The intensity in his husband’s gaze does not escape him.]
Besides, [he says, cupping Cardan’s cheek with one hand,] you want me thus. Unless you dispute this?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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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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Harder, [ he will gasp. He wants Liem to be a little ruthless. He wants to say, Tell me all about those indulgences. Tell me what you want to do to me. But he’s too close, and the unforgiving rhythm of Liem’s hand on him leaves him no room for idle musing. He can only let it take him, searing through him stroke by stroke, heartbeat by heartbeat, until he’s scoured of anything but need, anything but Liem’s scent and his touch and that maddening, dangerous, terribly gentle mouth. ]
You’re so— irresistible— fuck…
[ The fingers in Liem’s hair will tighten, just then, as he goes taut and senseless with pleasure — because Cardan needs him so awfully much, more than anyone or anything he’s ever needed before.
It really ought to terrify him. ]
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But he is still greedy for Cardan’s release, and he will push him up against it and over with determined hunger, feeling his own need beat wild and heady beneath his skin as the grip in his hair tightens and Cardan goes taut against him. He never tires of seeing his husband like this, abandoned with bliss and painfully lovely for it.
I will never be sane again, he thinks, wrapped tight around this man who makes his restraint evaporate and turns his thoughts blank with need. He cannot resist him, and he doubts there will ever come a day that he can.
He can only hold Cardan close and continue to press breathless, wandering kisses wherever his mouth can reach, and hope senselessly that this moment will last forever.]
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Liem's mouth on his skin is still distracting; his skin feels hot, oversensitized in the wake of orgasm. It gives him no room to rest, that mouth, and just barely enough to catch his breath -- and then, he'll have to move. It is a monumental effort, after all this, to flip himself over, but he does. He must slide his hand from Liem's hair to do so, dragging himself up and around, so that he can straddle his husband's lap with a covetous little sigh.
Because: Cardan wants to kiss him. He wants to feel those restless breaths against his lips, wants to catch Liem's face between his hands and trap him there while Cardan claims him as thoroughly and fervently as his heart desires. And so he will. And so he does. ]
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But he likes Cardan’s hot kisses also, so when his husband drags himself up, Liem will let him go. He is more starved for Cardan’s affection than he wants to admit, after the lonely trials of his dream. There have always been things in their marriage that have gone unsaid and unaddressed, and now especially, Liem covets the simple joy of drowning himself in Cardan as if nothing else in the world could possibly matter at all. As if nothing he witnessed or endured in that dream had any more substance than a passing thought.
He wants Cardan’s avid kisses, and he wants those elegant hands on his face, and he wants the weight of him in his lap, pressed close and insistent. Liem stretches up to meet him as Cardan dips to claim his kisses, and as his arms slide around him again, he can only feel relief that everything is once again just as it should be.]
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But eventually, his disappointing need to breathe pulls him away from Liem’s delectable mouth. He takes the opportunity to lean his forehead against his husband’s, stroking thoughtful fingertips over Liem’s ribs underwater. If this makes Liem ticklish — well, Cardan wishes to pet him, and given that he has solved many other problems this day, he does not feel like solving this one.
Besides: he finds himself particularly distractible in Liem’s close proximity. He’s still breathless when he rolls his hips against Liem’s, the movement slow and indulgent. Liem hasn’t come, and the hard erection trapped between their bodies sends a hot little pang of lust through Cardan all over again. His grin is unabashedly, sharply delighted. ]
Tell me, husband. How do you want me?
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At this moment, he wants for nothing, and he can very easily imagine giving Cardan just the same answer he received when he posed this same question only minutes ago.
But of course, he still wants to please his husband—and it has not escaped his notice that Cardan enjoys it when Liem voices his desires. Fulfilling them seems like a delightful game for his spouse, which Liem has no wish to rob him of.
And besides, he only wants what Cardan is always so pleased to provide.]
I want to be in your lap.
[Cardan’s weight straddling him is delightful, but Liem has had his fun getting his hands all over his spouse. Now he would like Cardan’s hands all over him, and this is not the ideal position for that desire. Illustratively, Liem’s own touch travels languidly up Cardan’s back and around to his chest, then sweeps smoothly back down his flanks to the lean muscles of his ass and thighs.]
I want your hands on me.
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But he did ask, after all. And he is not about to deny Liem now. ]
Oh? What happened to attending me, Liem?
[ It's a frivolous complaint; amusement curls around the edges of it. Still, he will lean in to steal just one more lingering, indulgent kiss-- and then commit to the effort of moving again, careless of the water splashing as he maneuvers himself to the other end of the tub. Once he's at the opposite edge -- far enough to have some room -- he will take a gulp of air and slide under the water entirely, surfacing some seconds later. Only then does he settle against the edge of the tub, pushing wet black hair out of his face.
And still, his gaze on Liem is intently focused, belying his casual little smirk. He extends his hand, fingers waggling impatiently for Liem to follow him. Because Cardan wants to put his hands and his mouth all over him, too, cannot wait to have Liem close and solid on top of him, where he belongs. ]
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He murmurs against his husband’s warm mouth,] That isn’t what you asked.
[No, his hunger to have Cardan’s sighs and gasps of pleasure have not receded. Even the memory of his lover coming undone in his arms makes his erection ache with impatience where it is, trapped between them.
And still, if he were to contemplate his own release… he would want it to be at Cardan’s hands. More importantly, he wants it to be at Cardan’s whim.
Heeding the beckoning of Cardan’s long fingers, Liem follows him towards the tub’s other edge and climbs obligingly into his lap, draping his arms over his shoulders. The intensity in his husband’s gaze does not escape him.]
Besides, [he says, cupping Cardan’s cheek with one hand,] you want me thus. Unless you dispute this?
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