8 - upwards to infinity
Welcome to our eighth prompt post.
As ususal, here are a few things to keep in mind:
1) All fills for prompts of the earlier prompt posts go in the post the prompt was posted in. No re-posting or splitting up prompts and fills.
2) Self-prompt when you post unprompted fic. (This means posting what the fill is about in a first comment, like a real ( Read more... )
As ususal, here are a few things to keep in mind:
1) All fills for prompts of the earlier prompt posts go in the post the prompt was posted in. No re-posting or splitting up prompts and fills.
2) Self-prompt when you post unprompted fic. (This means posting what the fill is about in a first comment, like a real ( Read more... )
Nettles were one thing but (his whirling brain assured him), mouth-on-mouth was something else entirely. There was a frightening intimacy about it that threw him way beyond his own carefully ordered control.
All the same, the experience was … sort-of … melting his insides and turning his thought-processes into marshmallow. Maybe … maybe this was a … situation wherein one … surrendered … entirely … to the sensation.
At this point the Chancellor desisted, and Ed almost whined in disappointment. The mug was plucked from his nerveless fingers and deposited safely beside him on the work-top.
“I wanted to do that last time, when you drank chocolate.” Osborne informed him.
Oh - flavour! Now that he could think about it, Ed was able to discern a faint tang of hazel on his own palate.
“It was nice.” he assured the Chancellor.
“I’ve got something for you. Don’t go away!”
Ed waited, wondering where the Chancellor thought he might depart to.
“Here!” Osborne thrust a small wrapped package into his hands, “Happy birthday!”
“Oh! You knew? Thank you.”
Ed opened it because today was , after all, The Day; so there was no reason to do the Anticipation thing.
The pale strip of green silk unrolled through his fingers, soft and slick; exactly the shade of the tips of young nettle plants which could be carefully plucked and cooked into spring soup.
Ed saw clear before him the answer to the dilemma that had been teasing at him ever since the Chancellor’s visit to his office. His face lit with a huge smile.
“Wonderful! And exactly what’s needed. Of COURSE! If I wear this in the House, then you’ll know that I …. that we ….. “
He paused peering anxiously at the Chancellor’s dumbfounded expression.
“That IS OK, isn’t it? I wouldn’t want to presume …. “
“is THAT why you haven’t been in touch with me since?” asked the Chancellor blankly.
“Of course. I had to do it right - it would have been most inappropriate else. But - as you know - all my ties are the same colour.”
The Chancellor burst out laughing. Ed put his head on one side, wondering what he’d said this time.
“Stay with the purple ones, and then we can do it every time.” he suggested at last.
Ed shook his head.
“We need time in between to recover.” he pointed out seriously.
“Of course!” George’s lips twitched, but he answered solemnly, “We’ll go with your plan then. The green tie, and the nettles. And that reminds me, Ed, I have a bone to pick with you!”
“Did I do something wrong?” asked Ed worriedly.
“Here - look at this webpage I found. Surely you know all about this? So - why no ginger-root last time? I’d have thought it would sting inside in much the same way as the nettles do on the skin.”
Ed was so moved that he leaned forward and planted a sloppy kiss on the Chancellor’s nose.
“I didn’t think you’d be ready for that as well. You’re absolutely right of course. The pain is exquisite.”
“You could have some too, whilst plying the nettles.”
Ed demurred immediately.
“It’s i-inadvisab-ble,” he said, stuttering at the enormity of what he was about to suggest, “to put … um … Anything Else … inside after the ginger root. It would have … um …. Ad-dverse effects on …. “
George was staring at him so hard that he was sure he’d made a faux pas.
“Do you mean what I think you mean?” he demanded.
“I expect so.” said Ed miserably (he KNEW that was a step too far).
“CHRIST, Ed - let’s go and do it immediately. Your office?”
“No, my private flat; then we shan’t need to use the gag. Can you ring for a taxi?”
“Immediately! We won’t bother telling them upstairs that we’re leaving.”
“Oh good! They’d never understand.”
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There will be one further part.
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