(Fic) Distraction
Capell bribed me with art. This is my excuse.
Stiaan laid his book aside and stood up, stretching. He'd read the same passage four times now, and the thaumaturgic diagrams still stubbornly refused to make sense of themselves. His mind kept straying to thoughts of blue eyes and warm hands - very pleasant thoughts, mind, but not particularly conducive to....well. Anything, really, other than finding Edward and trying very hard to stay on the right side of the rules.
Smiling ruefully at his own state of distraction, he settled himself on his narrow bed, leaning back against the wall. If he wasn't going to be allowed to focus, he might as well let his mind wander where it would. He certainly wasn't going to get anything else done.
At the moment, apparently, it chose to wander back a few hours, to a pile of blankets in a strange castle. To Edward humming against the hollow of his throat, straddling his lap, nipping under his jaw...his fingers brushed the bruise there, feather-light, as he felt himself respond to the memories, as sharp and clear as though they had happened seconds ago. Mara never forgot unless they chose to, after all. He allowed his eyes to close as he remembered more fully...the desire in Edward's eyes, the sound of his voice, rough and needy, the feel of arms wrapped tight around him...
His free hand slid under the waistband of his pants; in his mind, the fingers curled around him were larger, hardened by hours of practice with the sword and the blacksmith's hammer. He arched into the phantom touch, breath catching in his throat. He'd needed this, some kind of release, even if it wasn't what it would have been outside of camp.
He let himself imagine that, sliding his pants down his hips, shivering as the cool air touched heated skin. Imagined Edward pressing him down into the bed, kissing him; imagined the other man hard against him; imagined him sliding his shirt off to bare tanned skin and solid muscle. His free hand traced down his chest, mirroring an imagined caress.
Stiaan lay back, as his imagination supplied the weight of a body atop his, the feel of skin against skin that they hadn't dared to experience yet. He bit back a moan and quickened his rhythm, thinking of soft lips tracing a path down his chest, teeth gently closing around a nipple. His hips bucked involuntarily; he knew he couldn't last much longer, not after they'd come so close to breaking rules this afternoon.
He imagined Edward looking down at him, mostly naked and hard, with the raw need he'd shown then, and that image alone was enough to send him shuddering and gasping over the brink of orgasm.
When he could move and think again, he cleaned himself off with a languid gesture and sank bonelessly back onto the bed. It would be nice, he thought, if he could at least lie down with Edward after something like this, wrapped in each other's arms. Camp's rules were inconvenient in more ways than one. Still, only in camp could they have met at all, so Stiaan could hardly complain. No matter how frustrating it was, being unable to do what they both wanted to so badly...
...he laughed softly, as he felt himself respond again. Clearly, this problem wasn't going to have an easy solution, but it was one he was happy to have.
Stiaan laid his book aside and stood up, stretching. He'd read the same passage four times now, and the thaumaturgic diagrams still stubbornly refused to make sense of themselves. His mind kept straying to thoughts of blue eyes and warm hands - very pleasant thoughts, mind, but not particularly conducive to....well. Anything, really, other than finding Edward and trying very hard to stay on the right side of the rules.
Smiling ruefully at his own state of distraction, he settled himself on his narrow bed, leaning back against the wall. If he wasn't going to be allowed to focus, he might as well let his mind wander where it would. He certainly wasn't going to get anything else done.
At the moment, apparently, it chose to wander back a few hours, to a pile of blankets in a strange castle. To Edward humming against the hollow of his throat, straddling his lap, nipping under his jaw...his fingers brushed the bruise there, feather-light, as he felt himself respond to the memories, as sharp and clear as though they had happened seconds ago. Mara never forgot unless they chose to, after all. He allowed his eyes to close as he remembered more fully...the desire in Edward's eyes, the sound of his voice, rough and needy, the feel of arms wrapped tight around him...
His free hand slid under the waistband of his pants; in his mind, the fingers curled around him were larger, hardened by hours of practice with the sword and the blacksmith's hammer. He arched into the phantom touch, breath catching in his throat. He'd needed this, some kind of release, even if it wasn't what it would have been outside of camp.
He let himself imagine that, sliding his pants down his hips, shivering as the cool air touched heated skin. Imagined Edward pressing him down into the bed, kissing him; imagined the other man hard against him; imagined him sliding his shirt off to bare tanned skin and solid muscle. His free hand traced down his chest, mirroring an imagined caress.
Stiaan lay back, as his imagination supplied the weight of a body atop his, the feel of skin against skin that they hadn't dared to experience yet. He bit back a moan and quickened his rhythm, thinking of soft lips tracing a path down his chest, teeth gently closing around a nipple. His hips bucked involuntarily; he knew he couldn't last much longer, not after they'd come so close to breaking rules this afternoon.
He imagined Edward looking down at him, mostly naked and hard, with the raw need he'd shown then, and that image alone was enough to send him shuddering and gasping over the brink of orgasm.
When he could move and think again, he cleaned himself off with a languid gesture and sank bonelessly back onto the bed. It would be nice, he thought, if he could at least lie down with Edward after something like this, wrapped in each other's arms. Camp's rules were inconvenient in more ways than one. Still, only in camp could they have met at all, so Stiaan could hardly complain. No matter how frustrating it was, being unable to do what they both wanted to so badly...
...he laughed softly, as he felt himself respond again. Clearly, this problem wasn't going to have an easy solution, but it was one he was happy to have.