werewolf fic update at last!
Here, enjoy! It's about time. The rest should come faster, at least...I think two more chapters, unless it turns out to be three. Which it might. You never know.
Awesome Husband's back tonight, so I may be, er, preoccupied for a day or so. Still here, though! Love you!
Title: More Than All The World (The Werewolf’s Tale) (chapter 8 of 10 ( Read more... )
Awesome Husband's back tonight, so I may be, er, preoccupied for a day or so. Still here, though! Love you!
Title: More Than All The World (The Werewolf’s Tale) (chapter 8 of 10 ( Read more... )
That is obviously Sean noticing the important detail, like the naked Erik in bed with Charles! Someone had to. The second half of this chapter was of course going to be "...and then they had sex", but it was getting really long and I was feeling bad about not having updated in, oh, two months at least, so I cut it in half and posted the bit that was done. And then belatedly realized there should've been more Erik-getting-used-to-human-body in this half; ah, well. He had other priorities.
I can imagine Charles grumbling in annoyance every time Erik uses it to scoop him up and carry him places, yet very obviously not stopping wrapping himself up in it...
Exactly. Out loud, he's all, "No, you caveman, I can entirely walk, put me down..." and then wraps it around himself more comfortably anyway. Neither of them says anything about that; they don't have to. (Also, Tony Stark cameos are awesome.)
I had to get that in there at some point, right? :-) True control...and that, and wanting to feel Charles next to him, is really the key. The balance points, for Erik: his own strength, and his Charles.
And now they can, very carefully, have the sex:
##
He’d thought Charles must be exhausted, must simply want to rest, on this night of all nights. Had been entirely prepared to spend the night simply holding that smaller form against his, secure under blankets, entwined like the ivy around the castle walls, determined green life and equally purposeful cool grey stone.
He could be content with that, he told himself. It didn’t matter that he wanted more, wanted all of Charles, wanted to learn the way he felt, tasted, sounded, under Erik’s weight, gasping as they came together, crying out his name at the moment of ecstasy; wanted to know whether Charles would feel the same, move the same way, respond the way he had in their thoughts, in dreams of electric bliss. It didn’t matter.
He got to hold Charles, his Charles, his wounded and splendid king, in his arms. If that was all he could have, that would be enough. Wishing was futile; he’d learned that early enough. And in any case the sensation of pale skin, red-gold freckles like the spill of a carelessly opened treasure-box, was everything he’d never known how to wish for.
Enough. More than.
So he told himself; and then Charles looked up at him, and set down a pair of throwing daggers, elegant and deadly, for collection in the morning, and the desire in those eyes wasn’t about simply being held. Not at all.
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He definitely had other priorities! Priorities that he would consider far more important! Plus, it's not like he'd never been in a human body before - I suspect there would be a fair amount of muscle memory that would carry him through at least the initial period, even if he then started finding certain 'human' things a bit odd...
Tony Stark cameos are definitely awesome! I rather like the idea that he's in the background of every universe, inventing insane but strangely useful things and pretending he doesn't have a heart of gold!
It's lucky for Erik that he's clearly not going to have to be as noble as he's prepared to be, isn't it? ;) (Although it must be nice to have someone want you that much, no matter the circumstances...)
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Oh, hey, that's true; so I'm going to pretend that's my reason... :-)
Tony'd probably like the idea of being in every universe, too: "of course I'm indispensable, how could I not be...?" And then secretly he'd be glad, because he'd be helping people.
It's lucky for Erik that he's clearly not going to have to be as noble as he's prepared to be, isn't it? ;) (Although it must be nice to have someone want you that much, no matter the circumstances...)
*hugs*
And, yes--he's definitely getting a reward for all his patience--though, of course, it's not as if it's going to go entirely smoothly...Charles really isn't up to much exertion, it turns out... *tantalizes*
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And I am very much tantalised! (And as a matter of fact, I have rather a fondness for those gentle, slow sex scenes, where one party has to take care of the other. Frantic passion definitely has its place, but sometimes something quieter is nice...)
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Oh, totally. And here...the firelight, the sweetness, the care and worry...
##
You’re making it very difficult for this to be gentle.
I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not.
No, you’re not, are you? He rolled to one side. After some consideration, tugged Charles’s wrists closer together, and kept them tightly held in one of his hands. Charles gasped out loud. Erik spared a second to be thankful he had large hands. “Good?”
“Yes…why are you…oh god.” Erik-
Yes, Charles? He closed his hand more securely around Charles’s cock, stroked once, twice, slowly, luxuriously, enjoying the feel of it, the way the length of it grew even harder under his touch. Of course they’d done this, had had this, in shared thoughts, before. And that had been amazing, everything he’d never dreamed of, in the years before or after Sebastian Shaw; but this, feeling Charles with all his senses, this was better.
Besides, he knew what Charles liked, now. Knew precisely how to make this good.
Charles whimpered, Erik’s name catching on his lips as Erik’s thumb dragged moisture out of him and across his tip, eyes huge and dark, and Erik thought about indulging all the senses, and then bent down and licked, and Charles shrieked his name in their heads, hips snapping up off the bed.
Oh god Erik please-
Stay still, Erik admonished, not pausing, you did say we needed to be careful, no sudden movements, so if you do that again I might have to stop-
No-no, I mean yes, I mean I’ll try, Erik, please don’t stop, right there, that-
That? Evidently that could reduce Charles to incoherent babbling. Excellent.
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After some consideration, tugged Charles’s wrists closer together, and kept them tightly held in one of his hands.
This is big button of mine... *g*
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I'm having fun with this one...
##
Charles?
Yes?
This is…rose-scented oil?
“So it is. I think that may’ve been a gift…” I’m-sorry.
For what? “I never said I’d be opposed to roses, Charles.”
“For…the gifts, I think.” My-you know I’ve slept with-you know I’m not a virgin, and you-
“Not recently, you said. No one else.” I’ve never…I never knew what roses smelled of. As a human, I mean. This is…new. And it wasn’t open. You’ve never used it.
“I…no, I never did…I did tell you. It’s been a long time.” Is this-you don’t-
Mind? No. You’ve never done this before.
I-
You’ve never done this with me.
Charles pushed himself up on both elbows, breathless, eyes brilliant with exertion. “No. Not with you.” Together, then. With the roses. I love you, Erik.
“And I love you.” That wolf-instinct flare of possessiveness reared itself again: my mate, only mine, forever. Charles felt the full impact of it-Erik could tell-but simply smiled, lying back among the pillows, decadent and imperious and awaiting Erik's pleasure.
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Tonight or tomorrow, I think...there may be something else I want to post first, tonight. But then, yes, all the sexing. It's about time. *grin*
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But I do like that Erik is capable of being possessive and reasonable at the same time here! :)
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Erik's working on it! Some small part of his instincts isn't happy--Charles at some point wasn't his, was being shared with others--but he's also good at compartmentalizing, and he's aware that Charles is telling the truth about no one else for quite a while, and about being all Erik's now. That 'you've never done this with ME' is quite decided, though: and Charles will never even look at anyone else again, after he has!
##
He spilled oil across his fingers, carefully. The liquid felt cool, splashing from old glass to warm skin, and the sweetness of richly spiced blooms billowed around them.
May I-where would you like me to-
Here. Charles showed him, in their joined thoughts: fingers sliding, moving, easing in, slick with oil, filling that most intimate of spaces. Like this-
Like-this? He tested one at first, his own long finger, all knuckle and bone and awkwardly elegant human skin, pressing against that tiny bud of darkened pink. Here?
Yes. More-a bit more oil, please-oh, yes, like that-
He stared. Mesmerized. His finger, disappearing inside Charles.
Don’t stop, Erik, move-!
“Oh,” he said out loud, and then paused to kiss an impatient thigh, apologies, Charles, you’re very distracting, and then, carefully, so carefully, a second finger, pressing in alongside the first, watching that muscle flutter and open and give way for him.
There, Charles gasped, there, that-if you could just-
Oh, like this? He crooked the fingers. Pressed. Rubbed. Hard.
Charles screamed his name. Fortunately only in their heads; Erik wasn’t sure the castle guardsmen wouldn’t be pounding up the stairs, otherwise.
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