(no subject)
Five kisses, you say? Tough. I've only got three with me. None of them are from completed stories and some of them are extremely first-draftish.
Jem stretched gratefully. .I.ve never been tied up for so long. It really does tire the muscles.. He took a deep swig from the mug. .I.m glad you haven.t been petty enough to give me stale water..
.Fresh from the Tortuga springs,. Daniel said sardonically. He took the mug from Jem.s hands and drank from it. .I hope that reassures you?.
.Indeed,. Jem said absently, distracted by the droplets of water that clung to Daniel.s neat beard. He blinked to clear his mind. .So, are you going to tell me what you have planned for me? Or are you going to resort to the torture of anticipation?.
Daniel swallowed and Jem caught himself staring at the movement of his throat. .Why tell you,. Daniel said quietly, his voice husky, .when I can show you?.
He moved slowly closer and Jem knew he should be feeling fear but it was excitement that curled through him. Daniel.s calloused hand was soft against his face, his neck and, as Daniel pushed his shirt aside, against his shoulder.
Jem.s heart was pounding and his eyes were wide as Daniel lost all gentleness and his grip tightened. And then Daniel.s lips were against Jem.s, wild and fierce.
Jem.s hand was instantly on Daniel.s shoulder to push him away but then, without conscious effort, Jem was pulling Daniel towards him, fingers tight in the other man.s skin. Without thought, he was standing and Daniel was moving with him towards the cabin wall.
Daniel.s back was to the wall, his hands round Jem.s neck and Jem was pressing against him, glorying in the feel of solid muscle.
He held back a groan of pleasure as Daniel.s hands moved down his back. Instead, he broke the kiss for long enough to nip at Daniel.s ear, causing a shiver of delight. .Mine,. he whispered and Daniel made no objection.
"Richard?"
Alec's voice was a lazy drawl and Richard deliberately finished sweeping the stone down his sword's length before answering. No matter the act, there was the familiar prickling at the back of his throat and the beginning of a looseness through his body. He knew that tone of Alec's. "Yes?"
"I'm bored. Let's go out."
Another sweep with the stone. "Where do you want to go?"
"You choose."
"Molly's."
"We always go to Molly's."
Richard allowed his lips to quirk and he glanced up at Alec. "You did say I could choose," he pointed out.
"Not if you choose somewhere boring." Alec stared at him, head haughtily high. "Choose somewhere interesting."
Richard leaned back against the wall. "Why don't we visit your grandmother?"
Alec snorted. "Not quite that interesting." He left the windowsill and seated himself on the floor, next to Richard. Richard carefully moved the lethally sharp blade so it was a safe distance from Alec. Alec rested his head against the wall and studied the ceiling. "I want to go somewhere where we'll be pointed at and there will be gasps of horror and excitement and people will whisper to one another as they wonder whether that's *really* the infamous St Vier."
"And his noble lover," Richard said quietly.
"Perhaps I could wear a disguise," Alec mused. "Perhaps I could dress as a woman."
"No," Richard said firmly.
"You don't like women?"
"I like women. I just happen to like you as a man." He kept his eyes firmly fixed on his sword and resumed sweeping the stone down the blade.
"I like me as a man, too," Alec said and Richard felt the cold, slender fingers on his jaw, pulling him round to meet Alec's kiss. After a moment, Alec pulled back so they were still sharing breath but there was enough distance for him to speak. "If I weren't a man," Alec said, "I couldn't do this." He peeled Richard's fingers away from the stone and settled them over Alec's groin.
"You could," Richard whispered. "It would just feel different to me."
"I wonder if it would feel different to me."
"I don't know."
Alec's eyes shivered closed and he took a deep breath. "Do you think I'd make a beautiful woman?"
"No."
They worked until late, arguing over precise phrasing and meaning. Lawrence kept the fire stoked but the chill of the winter night crept into the room anyway. By the time they had finished their work, they were seated on the sofa, huddled together for warmth.
It was all so familiar and Ali couldn't resist the temptation.
Lawrence's eyes were wide and he was practically trembling as Ali gently stroked his cheekbone with his thumb. Ali was half-expecting him to pull away as he leaned forward but Lawrence stayed still, eyes fixed on Ali with a desperate appeal that Ali couldn't translate. When Ali kissed him, Lawrence groaned and his trembling increased.
"Hush," Ali whispered but then Lawrence's arms were hard about him and he was being kissed fiercely, forced back against the sofa and Lawrence's body was strong and taut against his. It wasn't what he wanted but it was what Lawrence needed so he closed his eyes and, as he always did, let Lawrence take what he would.
Lawrence was gone and Ali was left gasping in shock. He pulled himself upright. Lawrence was standing by his desk, frantically wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His head was up, he was breathing hard and his shaking was visible from across the room.
"Aurens?" Ali asked softly.
"I'm sorry!"
"What for?" Ali kept his voice peaceful, reassuring.
"I - I shouldn't."
Ali moved slowly towards him and finally drew Lawrence into his arms. "It doesn't matter," he said as Lawrence shook in his grip, hard as iron. "You can relax."
And, finally, Lawrence did, curling into Ali's shoulder.
Eventually, his trembling lessened. "Stay?" Lawrence asked quietly.
"Of course."
They ended up cross-legged on the sheepskin rug in front of the fire. The flames drew lurid patterns over Lawrence's face, painting him with harsh shadows. Ali was suddenly sick with longing for the desert and the optimism of the fighting. Victory had been easy then but now they were fighting a hard retreat.
He drew breath to speak but Lawrence was frozen, staring into the fire with desperate eyes, and Ali stopped. Not now. Lawrence couldn't cope with it now. Instead, he pulled Lawrence towards him.
There was no resistance and that was what worried Ali the most. Lawrence was never pliant, never soft, never so empty.
But he curled himself around Lawrence and held him until he slept.
The textures of home, Ali reflected. The soft sheepskin under his cheek and Lawrence heavy in his arms.
Jem stretched gratefully. .I.ve never been tied up for so long. It really does tire the muscles.. He took a deep swig from the mug. .I.m glad you haven.t been petty enough to give me stale water..
.Fresh from the Tortuga springs,. Daniel said sardonically. He took the mug from Jem.s hands and drank from it. .I hope that reassures you?.
.Indeed,. Jem said absently, distracted by the droplets of water that clung to Daniel.s neat beard. He blinked to clear his mind. .So, are you going to tell me what you have planned for me? Or are you going to resort to the torture of anticipation?.
Daniel swallowed and Jem caught himself staring at the movement of his throat. .Why tell you,. Daniel said quietly, his voice husky, .when I can show you?.
He moved slowly closer and Jem knew he should be feeling fear but it was excitement that curled through him. Daniel.s calloused hand was soft against his face, his neck and, as Daniel pushed his shirt aside, against his shoulder.
Jem.s heart was pounding and his eyes were wide as Daniel lost all gentleness and his grip tightened. And then Daniel.s lips were against Jem.s, wild and fierce.
Jem.s hand was instantly on Daniel.s shoulder to push him away but then, without conscious effort, Jem was pulling Daniel towards him, fingers tight in the other man.s skin. Without thought, he was standing and Daniel was moving with him towards the cabin wall.
Daniel.s back was to the wall, his hands round Jem.s neck and Jem was pressing against him, glorying in the feel of solid muscle.
He held back a groan of pleasure as Daniel.s hands moved down his back. Instead, he broke the kiss for long enough to nip at Daniel.s ear, causing a shiver of delight. .Mine,. he whispered and Daniel made no objection.
"Richard?"
Alec's voice was a lazy drawl and Richard deliberately finished sweeping the stone down his sword's length before answering. No matter the act, there was the familiar prickling at the back of his throat and the beginning of a looseness through his body. He knew that tone of Alec's. "Yes?"
"I'm bored. Let's go out."
Another sweep with the stone. "Where do you want to go?"
"You choose."
"Molly's."
"We always go to Molly's."
Richard allowed his lips to quirk and he glanced up at Alec. "You did say I could choose," he pointed out.
"Not if you choose somewhere boring." Alec stared at him, head haughtily high. "Choose somewhere interesting."
Richard leaned back against the wall. "Why don't we visit your grandmother?"
Alec snorted. "Not quite that interesting." He left the windowsill and seated himself on the floor, next to Richard. Richard carefully moved the lethally sharp blade so it was a safe distance from Alec. Alec rested his head against the wall and studied the ceiling. "I want to go somewhere where we'll be pointed at and there will be gasps of horror and excitement and people will whisper to one another as they wonder whether that's *really* the infamous St Vier."
"And his noble lover," Richard said quietly.
"Perhaps I could wear a disguise," Alec mused. "Perhaps I could dress as a woman."
"No," Richard said firmly.
"You don't like women?"
"I like women. I just happen to like you as a man." He kept his eyes firmly fixed on his sword and resumed sweeping the stone down the blade.
"I like me as a man, too," Alec said and Richard felt the cold, slender fingers on his jaw, pulling him round to meet Alec's kiss. After a moment, Alec pulled back so they were still sharing breath but there was enough distance for him to speak. "If I weren't a man," Alec said, "I couldn't do this." He peeled Richard's fingers away from the stone and settled them over Alec's groin.
"You could," Richard whispered. "It would just feel different to me."
"I wonder if it would feel different to me."
"I don't know."
Alec's eyes shivered closed and he took a deep breath. "Do you think I'd make a beautiful woman?"
"No."
They worked until late, arguing over precise phrasing and meaning. Lawrence kept the fire stoked but the chill of the winter night crept into the room anyway. By the time they had finished their work, they were seated on the sofa, huddled together for warmth.
It was all so familiar and Ali couldn't resist the temptation.
Lawrence's eyes were wide and he was practically trembling as Ali gently stroked his cheekbone with his thumb. Ali was half-expecting him to pull away as he leaned forward but Lawrence stayed still, eyes fixed on Ali with a desperate appeal that Ali couldn't translate. When Ali kissed him, Lawrence groaned and his trembling increased.
"Hush," Ali whispered but then Lawrence's arms were hard about him and he was being kissed fiercely, forced back against the sofa and Lawrence's body was strong and taut against his. It wasn't what he wanted but it was what Lawrence needed so he closed his eyes and, as he always did, let Lawrence take what he would.
Lawrence was gone and Ali was left gasping in shock. He pulled himself upright. Lawrence was standing by his desk, frantically wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His head was up, he was breathing hard and his shaking was visible from across the room.
"Aurens?" Ali asked softly.
"I'm sorry!"
"What for?" Ali kept his voice peaceful, reassuring.
"I - I shouldn't."
Ali moved slowly towards him and finally drew Lawrence into his arms. "It doesn't matter," he said as Lawrence shook in his grip, hard as iron. "You can relax."
And, finally, Lawrence did, curling into Ali's shoulder.
Eventually, his trembling lessened. "Stay?" Lawrence asked quietly.
"Of course."
They ended up cross-legged on the sheepskin rug in front of the fire. The flames drew lurid patterns over Lawrence's face, painting him with harsh shadows. Ali was suddenly sick with longing for the desert and the optimism of the fighting. Victory had been easy then but now they were fighting a hard retreat.
He drew breath to speak but Lawrence was frozen, staring into the fire with desperate eyes, and Ali stopped. Not now. Lawrence couldn't cope with it now. Instead, he pulled Lawrence towards him.
There was no resistance and that was what worried Ali the most. Lawrence was never pliant, never soft, never so empty.
But he curled himself around Lawrence and held him until he slept.
The textures of home, Ali reflected. The soft sheepskin under his cheek and Lawrence heavy in his arms.