Oh Shit--Shamless Slash Post
“I feel like my body’s been cut in two-no, Vallak! Don’t you laugh, it’s not funny!” He swatted Vallak’s hands angrily away, finishing a neat knot at the top of the line of holes. He took a coy look at himself in the mirror, and found himself mortified.
Vallak had stuck him in a dress. A dress provided by Cheska, who was apparently-the-same-size-as-he-but-really-wasn’t. It was a western-type dress, with a tightly cinched bodice that curved his waist into a twig and a boat-necked line that made his collar bone and neck look graceful and white in contrast to the powder blue velveteen of the dress. He shifted, realizing how uncomfortable the petticoat was underneath-and immediately hated Vallak even more.
He, being the epitome of the perfectionism, began to flatten the crumpled edge of the flared dress, fixing the silk rouched stripe on his side; and then slipped his fingers under the stings of his bodice to allow himself a little room to breath. Thankfully, the dress was cut so the lack of chest on his part was simply powdered away and hidden under a swath of thin, lavender tulle.
Grey was surprised. Somehow they’d gotten his hair-with the help of Cheska-into neat, pulled curls up and away from his face; powdered and settled about his forehead and jaws with blonde, lazy grace. The style had been set with a spidery-thin net of the tiniest pearls he’d ever seen, and a pin set with a grey-blue sapphire and a peacock feather.
In the mirror, his lips trembled, half-nervous-half incredulous; only softy rouged with a dry, horsehair brush. Vallak moved a string of fingernail-sized pearls to rest around his neck, the pearls separated in a pattern by golden filigree and square-cut emeralds. His fingers moved deftly to secure the necklace; but softly brushed past his collarbone. He could feel a lock of Vallak’s black hair tickle the nape of his neck and concealed the quake in his arms.
Vallak knelt down to help Grey into his jewel-encrusted slippers, moving his skirts up above his calf. He grasped the back of his leg safely and slipped the shoe delicately over his feet. Grey--who had a balanced hand on Vallak’s shoulder-tightened it when Vallak slipped his hands up the back of his leg, into the crook of his knee. The dark man leaned in, taking the bow of his stockings into his mouth, and began to pull down, very slowly.
Grey shuddered at the feeling of Vallak’s teeth scrape down his leg, and tried to pull away. Vallak grabbed him tightly around the wrist, pulling Grey easily on top of him.
Vallak was instantly pushing Grey’s skirts up, his needy hands sliding up and down his bare thighs. “I can’t stand the though of you luring another man in this thing.” He murmured into Grey’s powdered chest. Grey tried his hardest to escape from this debauchery, but to no avail; the harder he pushed away, the closer Vallak pulled him to himself.
He gave a wet, frustrated sigh in Vallak’s ear, making the other man snarl in delight. Vallak pressed his hands firmly to Grey’s chest, grabbing and kneading wantonly.
“Kiss me love, will you?”
Grey more than obliged, pressing his pink, puckered lips to Vallak’s dusky ones. The kiss was furtive, hidden behind Vallak’s large, dark hands that had cupped Grey’s heart-shaped face. Grey’s tongue darted out demurely at first, only to be caught by Vallak’s hungry mouth.
When they pulled apart, Grey was shivering in Vallak’s arms, a tumble of gold hair in his eyes.
“Don’t you do this with the Duke. You’re mine; you can only do this with me.” Vallak told him, pressing his thumb to Grey’s kiss-swollen lips, turning them down into a petulant pout.
“Who's to say I’m yours?” Grey challenged, raising an almost non-existent eyebrow.
“The world. And the Moon. And the Stars.” He smiled, pressing his cheek tenderly to Grey’s. “And whoever else agrees.”
“Better hurry!” Came the knock from the door. “Dinner will be served soon.”
Grey rose, fixing himself awkwardly in the mirror as Vallak watched. “You best behave yourself out there.” Vallak warned; and then neared, moving hair from covering the spot under Grey’s ear, kissing it. “And be careful.”
“I will.” Their eyes met in the looking glass.
Vallak had stuck him in a dress. A dress provided by Cheska, who was apparently-the-same-size-as-he-but-really-wasn’t. It was a western-type dress, with a tightly cinched bodice that curved his waist into a twig and a boat-necked line that made his collar bone and neck look graceful and white in contrast to the powder blue velveteen of the dress. He shifted, realizing how uncomfortable the petticoat was underneath-and immediately hated Vallak even more.
He, being the epitome of the perfectionism, began to flatten the crumpled edge of the flared dress, fixing the silk rouched stripe on his side; and then slipped his fingers under the stings of his bodice to allow himself a little room to breath. Thankfully, the dress was cut so the lack of chest on his part was simply powdered away and hidden under a swath of thin, lavender tulle.
Grey was surprised. Somehow they’d gotten his hair-with the help of Cheska-into neat, pulled curls up and away from his face; powdered and settled about his forehead and jaws with blonde, lazy grace. The style had been set with a spidery-thin net of the tiniest pearls he’d ever seen, and a pin set with a grey-blue sapphire and a peacock feather.
In the mirror, his lips trembled, half-nervous-half incredulous; only softy rouged with a dry, horsehair brush. Vallak moved a string of fingernail-sized pearls to rest around his neck, the pearls separated in a pattern by golden filigree and square-cut emeralds. His fingers moved deftly to secure the necklace; but softly brushed past his collarbone. He could feel a lock of Vallak’s black hair tickle the nape of his neck and concealed the quake in his arms.
Vallak knelt down to help Grey into his jewel-encrusted slippers, moving his skirts up above his calf. He grasped the back of his leg safely and slipped the shoe delicately over his feet. Grey--who had a balanced hand on Vallak’s shoulder-tightened it when Vallak slipped his hands up the back of his leg, into the crook of his knee. The dark man leaned in, taking the bow of his stockings into his mouth, and began to pull down, very slowly.
Grey shuddered at the feeling of Vallak’s teeth scrape down his leg, and tried to pull away. Vallak grabbed him tightly around the wrist, pulling Grey easily on top of him.
Vallak was instantly pushing Grey’s skirts up, his needy hands sliding up and down his bare thighs. “I can’t stand the though of you luring another man in this thing.” He murmured into Grey’s powdered chest. Grey tried his hardest to escape from this debauchery, but to no avail; the harder he pushed away, the closer Vallak pulled him to himself.
He gave a wet, frustrated sigh in Vallak’s ear, making the other man snarl in delight. Vallak pressed his hands firmly to Grey’s chest, grabbing and kneading wantonly.
“Kiss me love, will you?”
Grey more than obliged, pressing his pink, puckered lips to Vallak’s dusky ones. The kiss was furtive, hidden behind Vallak’s large, dark hands that had cupped Grey’s heart-shaped face. Grey’s tongue darted out demurely at first, only to be caught by Vallak’s hungry mouth.
When they pulled apart, Grey was shivering in Vallak’s arms, a tumble of gold hair in his eyes.
“Don’t you do this with the Duke. You’re mine; you can only do this with me.” Vallak told him, pressing his thumb to Grey’s kiss-swollen lips, turning them down into a petulant pout.
“Who's to say I’m yours?” Grey challenged, raising an almost non-existent eyebrow.
“The world. And the Moon. And the Stars.” He smiled, pressing his cheek tenderly to Grey’s. “And whoever else agrees.”
“Better hurry!” Came the knock from the door. “Dinner will be served soon.”
Grey rose, fixing himself awkwardly in the mirror as Vallak watched. “You best behave yourself out there.” Vallak warned; and then neared, moving hair from covering the spot under Grey’s ear, kissing it. “And be careful.”
“I will.” Their eyes met in the looking glass.