[Boardwalk Empire/Yami no Matsuei] "Bedroom Nocturne" (R)
Author's Note: Written for 
fic_promptly's Any, any, feeling safe in his/her arms. Set in the Team Albany/Boardwalk Bloggers RP-'verse, featuring Kensington Mudgett (AU!Kazutaka Muraki)/Hyacinthe Kane (AU!Hisoka Kurosaki). Inspired in some part by "An Interlude" from The Decembrist's "The Hazards of Love".
Nights when his employer and keeper had no night duty at his surgery and a call came in: a boating accident or an altercation at one of the casinos, or something more everyday: a sudden illness, a sick child, a birth. Mudgett rises quickly to answer the telephone in the next room; Hyacinthe hears his voice, muffled by the wall, but detects the professional concern in his employer's tone, then a click and footsteps as he returns, a hurried shuffle as he dresses.
"I'll be back as soon as I can," Mudgett says, leaning over the bed to kiss the young man who shares his pillows.
"I'll keep your side warm," Hyacinthe replies, shifting to cover Mudgett's half of the bed as best as he can, given his shorter stature and slighter build.
He can tell how a case has gone, how a patient has responded, by the way his employer carries himself when he returns. If the prognosis looks grim, he enters quietly, closing the bedroom door with a gentle firmness, careful not disturb Hyacinthe, but with a heaviness, enough that Hyacinthe can sense the tension and concern. Mudgett slips into bed with a tired sigh and he reaching to Hyacinthe, lays a hand on his chest tiredly in an almost cursory touch, then settles on his pillows. Hyacinthe lays an arm over his keeper's shoulders, the taller man clasping his hand, but Hyacinthe can feel a quiver of professional worry running through his master's limbs.
If the patient had not lasted the night, Hyacinthe can hear the finality in the way his employer closes the bedroom door, like the door to a cemetery vault, before he undresses and comes to bed. These times, Mudgett pulls Hyacinthe close his face pressing into angle of the smaller man's neck. Some nights, as he pulls the older man closer, he might feel a tear smelling of salt slip from his employer's eye and onto his skin, rolling down Hyacinthe's shoulder. Hyacinthe kissed the side of his master's head gently, offering what reassurance he could. It seemed to suffice, for he felt his employer and keeper relaxing in his arms.
If it has gone well, and the patient shows sign of making a good recovery, Mudgett enters their chamber with a light step, slipping out of his clothes and leaning over Hyacinthe to nuzzle him before sliding in between the covers. HyacintheHyacinthe slips an arm under his keeper's shoulders as Mudgett turns him over, onto his back. Only a brief encounter, for the night draws on: a gentle brushing chests and shafts before they both settle, entwined together in contentment.
"No death tonight...?" Hyacinthe asks.
"No, death and pain will have to wait another night to take someone from my hands," Mudgett replies, nuzzling his companion's ear.
fic_promptly's Any, any, feeling safe in his/her arms. Set in the Team Albany/Boardwalk Bloggers RP-'verse, featuring Kensington Mudgett (AU!Kazutaka Muraki)/Hyacinthe Kane (AU!Hisoka Kurosaki). Inspired in some part by "An Interlude" from The Decembrist's "The Hazards of Love".
Nights when his employer and keeper had no night duty at his surgery and a call came in: a boating accident or an altercation at one of the casinos, or something more everyday: a sudden illness, a sick child, a birth. Mudgett rises quickly to answer the telephone in the next room; Hyacinthe hears his voice, muffled by the wall, but detects the professional concern in his employer's tone, then a click and footsteps as he returns, a hurried shuffle as he dresses.
"I'll be back as soon as I can," Mudgett says, leaning over the bed to kiss the young man who shares his pillows.
"I'll keep your side warm," Hyacinthe replies, shifting to cover Mudgett's half of the bed as best as he can, given his shorter stature and slighter build.
He can tell how a case has gone, how a patient has responded, by the way his employer carries himself when he returns. If the prognosis looks grim, he enters quietly, closing the bedroom door with a gentle firmness, careful not disturb Hyacinthe, but with a heaviness, enough that Hyacinthe can sense the tension and concern. Mudgett slips into bed with a tired sigh and he reaching to Hyacinthe, lays a hand on his chest tiredly in an almost cursory touch, then settles on his pillows. Hyacinthe lays an arm over his keeper's shoulders, the taller man clasping his hand, but Hyacinthe can feel a quiver of professional worry running through his master's limbs.
If the patient had not lasted the night, Hyacinthe can hear the finality in the way his employer closes the bedroom door, like the door to a cemetery vault, before he undresses and comes to bed. These times, Mudgett pulls Hyacinthe close his face pressing into angle of the smaller man's neck. Some nights, as he pulls the older man closer, he might feel a tear smelling of salt slip from his employer's eye and onto his skin, rolling down Hyacinthe's shoulder. Hyacinthe kissed the side of his master's head gently, offering what reassurance he could. It seemed to suffice, for he felt his employer and keeper relaxing in his arms.
If it has gone well, and the patient shows sign of making a good recovery, Mudgett enters their chamber with a light step, slipping out of his clothes and leaning over Hyacinthe to nuzzle him before sliding in between the covers. HyacintheHyacinthe slips an arm under his keeper's shoulders as Mudgett turns him over, onto his back. Only a brief encounter, for the night draws on: a gentle brushing chests and shafts before they both settle, entwined together in contentment.
"No death tonight...?" Hyacinthe asks.
"No, death and pain will have to wait another night to take someone from my hands," Mudgett replies, nuzzling his companion's ear.