[Cardan’s kiss, as ever, does much to distract Liem from his own impatience. He meets it hungrily, teeth grazing the lush curve of Cardan’s lip, and for a moment his frustration is replaced with a keen, yearning greed that knows nothing but the warmth of Cardan’s laugh and the caress of his soft mouth. He is reluctant to surrender that luxury for anything, even for a moment.
Still, his lust has not subsided, for all that Cardan’s kiss has the special quality of rendering all else unimportant. When his husband pulls away again, the need thundering through Liem seems far more urgent than any notion of “readiness” could possibly be. So what if taking Cardan’s cock is difficult? He wants it anyway, and he cannot imagine regretting indulging this particular desire. ]
I care not how ready I am.
[So he will give himself what he wants. He lets Cardan guide him up, onto his cock, and he presses his face against his lover’s damp hair, breathing him in before he slowly, deliberately fits himself over him.
It is tight after all, and his breath halts in his chest as he takes Cardan in, inch by inch. But still, he is too hungry for patience. His arms make a covetous circle around his husband as they fit ever more snugly together, and that is perfect too. He has no wish to ever release Cardan from his embrace.]
[ He feels a little insane with it-- no, he feels completely insane with it. When Liem presses close, when he enfolds Cardan in the cage of his arms and sinks down onto his cock, Cardan feels like his heart is going to beat out of his chest. His breath comes in harsh, compulsive gasps; the hands on Liem's thighs have grown hard with strain.
It's not just that he's tight -- even though he's so, so incredibly tight -- it's the hunger in Liem's kiss and the covetous longing in the way he holds Cardan. It's the face buried against his hair and the way this feels, overwhelmingly, like something precious and irreplaceable. Cardan holds him there for the space of a breath or two, fingers biting into pale skin. And yet, for once, he can't bear for Liem to hold back -- some foolish part of him wants his husband to break what little composure he has left. He tilts his face upward, and his smile is a little crooked, a little desperate. ]
Come, husband.
[ He moves, just a tiny bit, rocking his hips up into the tight sheath of Liem's body. One of his hands detaches from Liem's thigh to find his erection once more. He's impatient -- still, again. And if Liem cares not about being careful, then why should Cardan? ]
[When Cardan lifts his face to smile up at him, Liem cannot help but be smitten by his loveliness. He feels it like a physical blow, one that captures his attention with urgent gravity, and the need to move against him seems suddenly greater than any other concern he’s ever had.
He wants Cardan to forget: forget that there was ever anyone but him, forget that there has ever been a day when he was beyond the reach of his hand. He wants to banish the past and the future both, so only heat and closeness and indulgent desire remain.
And he wants to have him. He must have him.]
I will.
[As he begins to ride Cardan, he cannot look away. Though his eyelids flutter and grow heavy with the heady rhythm of his pleasure, he wants to see Cardan’s pleasure too. And if his fingers slide up again to cradle the side of his face, if his thumb brushes one elegant cheek with idle caresses, surely he is permitted such an indulgence.]
[ He finds himself pinned by that sultry blue gaze, held fast by the tender hand on his cheek. He had meant to be the one pinning Liem, but it's too easy to lose himself in the slide of slick, bath-warmed skin, in the silken grip of his husband's body, in the pleasure of having him here — Cardan's to claim and to fuck and to hold close. When he'd said that Liem matched his hunger, he had meant their mutual desire to be wanted, but perhaps his need for Liem runs just as deep. Perhaps they have been ravenous for each other ever since that first night below the stars.
He's certainly ravenous now. Liem will barely have to try to fulfill his promise: Cardan already cannot think of anything that isn't Liem’s lithe weight atop his lap or the sinuous slide of Liem’s body against his own. His breaths still come in tortured gasps; pleasure claws its way up his spine, tightens his throat, overwhelming in its intensity.
I love you, he thinks, feverishly, but words escape him. He can only watch Liem, rapt and stupid with longing for a man whom he’s holding in his arms.
But isn’t that what hunger is, in the end? The feeling of never enough. ]
[How easily Cardan captivates him. Though Liem promised to make his husband forget all else, he is the one who ends up absorbed in the man entwined with him. Everything else slips away in the face of that dark gaze and those greedy hands, the caress of slick skin against him, the feel of Cardan filling him up and the irresistible cadence of his heavy, hurried breaths.
Liem is ensnared and undone, helpless to do anything but chase that intimacy as far as he can. He wants the man in his arms to be his, now and always. He loves the way Cardan makes him feel far, far too much.
All too soon, it overcomes him: his eagerness and his longing and his impatience, the way Cardan feels and looks and sounds. It is too much; it is perfect. Nowhere else could he find such relief in feeling completely overwhelmed, except here in his husband’s embrace.
His eyes close of their own accord as frantic pleasure trembles through him, turning the rhythm of his hips haphazard as he goes taut with urgency. The force of his need bows him forward, pressing his forehead against Cardan’s as he clutches him closer, desperate always for more, ever more.]
[ It's always in moments like this when tenderness overcomes him, makes his chest feel tight and full with longing. How could it not, when his husband is so eager to give himself to him and him alone? This is his: the way Liem trembles is his, Liem's unfettered desire is his, the beautiful, taut line of his body is his. Though it's stupid, some part of him feels like it has always been his, like no one else has ever had Liem this way.
He's liable to be undone by his own lust. It pulses through him ever harder when the determined way Liem rides him stutters and turns haphazard; he groans and clutches at his husband, helplessly caught in the tide of his pleasure. Yet-- neither can he help the lurid bloom of affection when Liem presses their brows together and says his name. He can't help the incredulous, warm little smile that touches his mouth. All he wants is to cradle Liem's slim face in his hands and kiss those urgent breaths from his lips -- and since there's no reason not to, that's exactly what he does.
It doesn't matter if he looks foolishly smitten. Liem isn't looking at him, anyway. ]
[Liem thought that nothing could slow the frantic build of pleasure spurred on by Cardan’s lewd groan and the hard grip of his hands. The feel of Cardan beneath him is too erotic; the scent of him and the harried sound of his breaths drives Liem mad.
But still, he cannot resist the tender cage of the hands on his face or the kiss that steals his breath. For a long moment he is distracted even from his own aching pleasure and the immediacy of his need; neither could contend with the longing Cardan’s soft lips inspire in him. He falls into the kiss with a sigh, hopelessly relieved.
But his body continues its eager rhythm without his direction, and the peak of his pleasure finds him after all. How could it not? For far too much of the morning he has yearned for Cardan’s touch, has wanted to be kissed and held and fucked, and now that he has what he desired, that want thunders through him relentlessly. Desperation claws its way from his throat as he fucks down onto Cardan’s cock again and again, seized by blind need that carries him over the edge.
He only hopes that Cardan has become just as fully, wantonly senseless as he.]
[ He cannot resist Liem: not ever, but especially not when he is like this, recklessly consumed by desperate desire. It feels rare -- every time, it feels rare, like a treasure, to see this meticulously controlled man lose himself in Cardan's arms... no, not lose, give himself, willingly and eagerly. And always, Cardan wants him, so desperately that he can hardly breathe around it.
He doesn't know what to do with his desire. It sweeps over Cardan like a high tide, and he is all too eager to let himself drown. His hands slide from Liem's face; he braces himself against the lip of the tub so that he can answer the ruthless rhythm his lover sets, moving against him in those last few seconds before pleasure takes him.
His other arm is busy pulling Liem close, closer still. He cannot wait -- cannot even pretend that he does. When Liem's orgasm catches up to him, when it draws him tight around Cardan's cock, it is only a matter of breaths. He's so close already, so overwhelmed with his husband-- it's all he can do to jerk forward and sink his teeth into Liem's pale shoulder as his own climax rocks through him.
And still, Cardan will not let him go. He only buries his face against Liem's throat, and holds him tightly against himself, and considers whether the Alderking would protest terribly much if they spent the rest of their lifespans in this bath, in this embrace. He doesn't know how he's going to let go again. ]
[It is some time before Liem’s pleasure recedes enough for him to collect himself again. He is too wrapped up in contentment to stir himself from his jealous embrace around his husband; all he wishes to do is remain here, with Cardan’s face tucked against his neck and his arms twined snugly about him. Even though there are more comfortable ways for them to spend the rest of their day, ones that don’t involve folding themselves into a porcelain tub as the water cools around them, he still struggles to make himself care about such things just now.
Rather he finds, as he lifts one hand to idly pet Cardan’s hair and turns to press his lips to one damp temple, that a soft, relieved sigh escapes him.
This is what he had wanted—ever since the revel, since before that petty faerie had cursed him and disrupted their night so completely. He had spent so much of that revel warmly anticipating its end, when he might again be free to insinuate himself into Cardan’s embrace and give himself over to his husband’s care. The feeling he had that entire time is what he imagines it must be like for the warm-blooded to hold their breath. Now, finally, he can be at ease again.]
[ Even had Liem wanted to get out, he would have found Cardan immovable, for the moment. The aftershocks of his desire still shiver through him, and his breathing will be a mess for some time-- but it's more than that. He cares not that the water is losing its warmth, cares not that the bed with its soft duvets and pillows is but a few steps away -- he only wishes to keep this moment of closeness alive for as long as he can. It feels like, once he lets go of Liem, some spell might break, disrupting the perfect closeness they've clawed their way back to so desperately over the past few hours.
The brush of gentle lips at his temple pulls a strange, soft sound from him, nearly a whimper. He draws his fingertips up Liem's back, over the bumps of his spine, as if meaning to count each one. It is probably a bad idea to lift his head, with how plaintively his longing is writ upon his face, but he doesn't care. He wants to look at his husband, and he's lost all sense of self-preservation at some point around the second bottle of liquor. ]
[The pleasurable trailing of fingers up his spine makes Liem shiver, and when his husband lifts his face, Liem is too busy tilting his own towards his mouth to examine his expression. Warmth fills him up right to the tips of his fingers and the points of his ears; it seems the most natural thing in the world to claim Cardan’s lips for a kiss now, and as is so often the case, their softness keeps him there for longer than he meant to.
But at least now, there is no reason why he should not indulge his wants for as long as he likes. He smiles as he pulls back again to regard his lovely spouse.]
You still taste of liquor, [he observes. For some reason, the fact that the taste is so noticeable for now strikes him as charming. Perhaps it is just atypical for Cardan to be drinking things that Liem is not. Certainly Liem does not often enjoy him drunk; regardless of the reasons for him becoming so, if Cardan is in a pleased mood, he cannot say he minds.]
[ They catch him unprepared, sometimes, Liem's smiles -- especially ones that make his husband look so soft and unguarded as this. It makes some primal, vivid hunger twist in his belly. He wants to chase that gentle, serious mouth and claim it again, wants to fluster and tease him back to urgent desire.
For a moment, he does none of these things. He only stares, a little breathlessly, cataloguing his husband's features: those bright eyes, his elegant brows, the sharp line of his jaw--
He shifts closer, and gives a shiver of his own at the movement, tangled up with each other as they still are. ]
Then you haven't kissed me enough, [ Cardan charges, his voice a little rough with it. He wants to taste and smell like Liem, wants to soak in him until they become so clearly entwined that none may tear them apart. The fact this is not reasonable fails to concern him. ]
[Cardan’s accusation brings a flutter of warmth to Liem’s breast, feeding the fond little smile on his face. Yes, he surely hasn’t kissed Cardan enough. His husband is every bit as insatiable as him; if Liem hoped to ever make him tire of his kisses, he would surely need to dedicate himself with the utmost diligence to that task.]
My oversight, clearly.
[He brushes his lips again over Cardan’s, playfully gentle. The intensity of Cardan’s gaze wandering his features lingers in his thoughts, sparking that familiar, unruly eagerness that he struggles more and more of late to hide.
It must be obvious to Cardan how happy he makes Liem, and how vital that happiness has become to him. He should be embarrassed to feel so about such a temporary relationship, but when Cardan is wrapped around him like this, how can he be anything but content? How can he do anything but lean close once more, seeking the tender curve of Cardan’s mouth?]
I shall try to correct it.
[A worthy endeavour—even should it take the rest of the day.]
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Still, his lust has not subsided, for all that Cardan’s kiss has the special quality of rendering all else unimportant. When his husband pulls away again, the need thundering through Liem seems far more urgent than any notion of “readiness” could possibly be. So what if taking Cardan’s cock is difficult? He wants it anyway, and he cannot imagine regretting indulging this particular desire. ]
I care not how ready I am.
[So he will give himself what he wants. He lets Cardan guide him up, onto his cock, and he presses his face against his lover’s damp hair, breathing him in before he slowly, deliberately fits himself over him.
It is tight after all, and his breath halts in his chest as he takes Cardan in, inch by inch. But still, he is too hungry for patience. His arms make a covetous circle around his husband as they fit ever more snugly together, and that is perfect too. He has no wish to ever release Cardan from his embrace.]
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It's not just that he's tight -- even though he's so, so incredibly tight -- it's the hunger in Liem's kiss and the covetous longing in the way he holds Cardan. It's the face buried against his hair and the way this feels, overwhelmingly, like something precious and irreplaceable. Cardan holds him there for the space of a breath or two, fingers biting into pale skin. And yet, for once, he can't bear for Liem to hold back -- some foolish part of him wants his husband to break what little composure he has left. He tilts his face upward, and his smile is a little crooked, a little desperate. ]
Come, husband.
[ He moves, just a tiny bit, rocking his hips up into the tight sheath of Liem's body. One of his hands detaches from Liem's thigh to find his erection once more. He's impatient -- still, again. And if Liem cares not about being careful, then why should Cardan? ]
Make me forget... h-hah... we were ever apart.
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He wants Cardan to forget: forget that there was ever anyone but him, forget that there has ever been a day when he was beyond the reach of his hand. He wants to banish the past and the future both, so only heat and closeness and indulgent desire remain.
And he wants to have him. He must have him.]
I will.
[As he begins to ride Cardan, he cannot look away. Though his eyelids flutter and grow heavy with the heady rhythm of his pleasure, he wants to see Cardan’s pleasure too. And if his fingers slide up again to cradle the side of his face, if his thumb brushes one elegant cheek with idle caresses, surely he is permitted such an indulgence.]
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He's certainly ravenous now. Liem will barely have to try to fulfill his promise: Cardan already cannot think of anything that isn't Liem’s lithe weight atop his lap or the sinuous slide of Liem’s body against his own. His breaths still come in tortured gasps; pleasure claws its way up his spine, tightens his throat, overwhelming in its intensity.
I love you, he thinks, feverishly, but words escape him. He can only watch Liem, rapt and stupid with longing for a man whom he’s holding in his arms.
But isn’t that what hunger is, in the end? The feeling of never enough. ]
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Liem is ensnared and undone, helpless to do anything but chase that intimacy as far as he can. He wants the man in his arms to be his, now and always. He loves the way Cardan makes him feel far, far too much.
All too soon, it overcomes him: his eagerness and his longing and his impatience, the way Cardan feels and looks and sounds. It is too much; it is perfect. Nowhere else could he find such relief in feeling completely overwhelmed, except here in his husband’s embrace.
His eyes close of their own accord as frantic pleasure trembles through him, turning the rhythm of his hips haphazard as he goes taut with urgency. The force of his need bows him forward, pressing his forehead against Cardan’s as he clutches him closer, desperate always for more, ever more.]
Cardan, [he gasps.] Cardan…
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He's liable to be undone by his own lust. It pulses through him ever harder when the determined way Liem rides him stutters and turns haphazard; he groans and clutches at his husband, helplessly caught in the tide of his pleasure. Yet-- neither can he help the lurid bloom of affection when Liem presses their brows together and says his name. He can't help the incredulous, warm little smile that touches his mouth. All he wants is to cradle Liem's slim face in his hands and kiss those urgent breaths from his lips -- and since there's no reason not to, that's exactly what he does.
It doesn't matter if he looks foolishly smitten. Liem isn't looking at him, anyway. ]
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But still, he cannot resist the tender cage of the hands on his face or the kiss that steals his breath. For a long moment he is distracted even from his own aching pleasure and the immediacy of his need; neither could contend with the longing Cardan’s soft lips inspire in him. He falls into the kiss with a sigh, hopelessly relieved.
But his body continues its eager rhythm without his direction, and the peak of his pleasure finds him after all. How could it not? For far too much of the morning he has yearned for Cardan’s touch, has wanted to be kissed and held and fucked, and now that he has what he desired, that want thunders through him relentlessly. Desperation claws its way from his throat as he fucks down onto Cardan’s cock again and again, seized by blind need that carries him over the edge.
He only hopes that Cardan has become just as fully, wantonly senseless as he.]
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He doesn't know what to do with his desire. It sweeps over Cardan like a high tide, and he is all too eager to let himself drown. His hands slide from Liem's face; he braces himself against the lip of the tub so that he can answer the ruthless rhythm his lover sets, moving against him in those last few seconds before pleasure takes him.
His other arm is busy pulling Liem close, closer still. He cannot wait -- cannot even pretend that he does. When Liem's orgasm catches up to him, when it draws him tight around Cardan's cock, it is only a matter of breaths. He's so close already, so overwhelmed with his husband-- it's all he can do to jerk forward and sink his teeth into Liem's pale shoulder as his own climax rocks through him.
And still, Cardan will not let him go. He only buries his face against Liem's throat, and holds him tightly against himself, and considers whether the Alderking would protest terribly much if they spent the rest of their lifespans in this bath, in this embrace. He doesn't know how he's going to let go again. ]
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Rather he finds, as he lifts one hand to idly pet Cardan’s hair and turns to press his lips to one damp temple, that a soft, relieved sigh escapes him.
This is what he had wanted—ever since the revel, since before that petty faerie had cursed him and disrupted their night so completely. He had spent so much of that revel warmly anticipating its end, when he might again be free to insinuate himself into Cardan’s embrace and give himself over to his husband’s care. The feeling he had that entire time is what he imagines it must be like for the warm-blooded to hold their breath. Now, finally, he can be at ease again.]
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The brush of gentle lips at his temple pulls a strange, soft sound from him, nearly a whimper. He draws his fingertips up Liem's back, over the bumps of his spine, as if meaning to count each one. It is probably a bad idea to lift his head, with how plaintively his longing is writ upon his face, but he doesn't care. He wants to look at his husband, and he's lost all sense of self-preservation at some point around the second bottle of liquor. ]
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[The pleasurable trailing of fingers up his spine makes Liem shiver, and when his husband lifts his face, Liem is too busy tilting his own towards his mouth to examine his expression. Warmth fills him up right to the tips of his fingers and the points of his ears; it seems the most natural thing in the world to claim Cardan’s lips for a kiss now, and as is so often the case, their softness keeps him there for longer than he meant to.
But at least now, there is no reason why he should not indulge his wants for as long as he likes. He smiles as he pulls back again to regard his lovely spouse.]
You still taste of liquor, [he observes. For some reason, the fact that the taste is so noticeable for now strikes him as charming. Perhaps it is just atypical for Cardan to be drinking things that Liem is not. Certainly Liem does not often enjoy him drunk; regardless of the reasons for him becoming so, if Cardan is in a pleased mood, he cannot say he minds.]
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For a moment, he does none of these things. He only stares, a little breathlessly, cataloguing his husband's features: those bright eyes, his elegant brows, the sharp line of his jaw--
He shifts closer, and gives a shiver of his own at the movement, tangled up with each other as they still are. ]
Then you haven't kissed me enough, [ Cardan charges, his voice a little rough with it. He wants to taste and smell like Liem, wants to soak in him until they become so clearly entwined that none may tear them apart. The fact this is not reasonable fails to concern him. ]
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My oversight, clearly.
[He brushes his lips again over Cardan’s, playfully gentle. The intensity of Cardan’s gaze wandering his features lingers in his thoughts, sparking that familiar, unruly eagerness that he struggles more and more of late to hide.
It must be obvious to Cardan how happy he makes Liem, and how vital that happiness has become to him. He should be embarrassed to feel so about such a temporary relationship, but when Cardan is wrapped around him like this, how can he be anything but content? How can he do anything but lean close once more, seeking the tender curve of Cardan’s mouth?]
I shall try to correct it.
[A worthy endeavour—even should it take the rest of the day.]