fic: lessons (the borgias)
lessons. the borgias. t for kissing. cesare/lucrezia, implied lucrezia/djem. 1,189 words (excluding quote at the beginning) borgiaskink response to: Cesare follows up on Giulia's lesson on kisses--just kisses and maybe a bit of sweet making out.
But if I lose you, what have I left to hope for? Why continue on life's pilgrimage, for which I have no support but you, and none in you save the knowledge that you are alive, now that I am forbidden all other pleasures in you and denied even the joy of your presence which from time to time could restore me to myself?
- Heloise's letter to Abelard.
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She has never handled grief well.
Lucrezia can't keep still as she combs her fingers through the ends of her hair and pinches her cheeks to elicit color and smooths the fabric of her dress with sweaty palms. She's to be married soon yet she can't stop fidgeting. It's not lady-like at all, she thinks, mother would be furious if she knew.
She thinks of Djem, her Moor. Her dreams had not ceased, even with Giulia's reassurances and Cesare's gentle encouragements to move on. The thought of him makes her fists clench in her dress and she tightens her eyes, breathing a deep gust of air to stop her chest from aching and her eyes from watering as they always did when she thought of him. You are the Pope's daughter; you are the most beautiful treasure this Vatican contains.
Djem had kissed her once, after he had promised to protect her with his life. His lips pressed softly against her forehead, his hand ghosting over her trembling arm as though she wasn't really there. She stayed in that moment when he left her, her insides still warm and the butterflies still fluttering in her stomach.
Your husband tries to beat you; I, Djem, will strangle him with my bare hands.
Lucrezia stands, needing something to do other than pine for a dead man. She finds herself on the path to Cesare's room, with no clue why.
He's there, of course, sifting through documents with bored eyes. Cesare looks tired, she notes as his eyes blink several times before he opens them wide and his lips upturn the slightest at his success. He's not in his Cardinal uniform, instead donned in his usual breeches and green overcoat.
"Yes?" he mutters, not bothering to look up.
"You've kissed a great deal of women, haven't you, Cesare?" she blurts out. Lucrezia wrings her hands together and steps closer into the room, biting her lip nervously.
Her brother glances up with an expression she could only articulate as shocked. He stands and walks around his desk, leaning against the front and folding his arms together. "I wouldn't say a great deal but I have kissed a fair share of women," he tells her. "Why do you ask?"
"Could you teach me?" she asks quietly, still not looking at him as she speaks. "I will have to kiss Giovanni Sforza soon enough and I want to be prepared."
"That is an. . . odd request, sis," he says sis as though trying to remind her but she pays it no heed.
"Giulia tried to teach me earlier but I fear my knowledge is still quite limited."
He sighs and strides over to her, placing his large hands on her shoulders. It always struck her how beautiful Cesare is, how his eyes told her everything she needed to know without a mutter from his lips, how his hair seemed so soft to the touch. Cesare leans down, as he always did when talking to her, and she could feel the molten temperatures of his breath against her face.
"Has a man ever kissed you, my love?" he near-whispers, his voice hoarse and his eyes focused on hers, dark with a hint of something that sends tingles through her body.
"Djem kissed my forehead, once," she says sadly.
Cesare shakes his head and leans closer. "I meant, has a man ever kissed your lips?"
It's her turn to shake her head and suddenly her brother is trembling and his eyes move to her mouth and he licks his lips quickly.
"There's the see you soon, my love kiss," he says, bending to peck her cheek. "Then, there's the goodnight, my love kiss," he kisses her forehead sweetly, hesitating there.
"I may become a bit unchivalrous, my love, so please forgive me in advance."
His hands grasp her waist and he pulls her in, capturing her lips with his with a deep groan she felt resonating in her belly. The kiss is languid and she knows he's going as slowly as he can and being as gentle as he's able. Lucrezia's hands don't know where to place themselves and Cesare chuckles against her mouth as he places them on his shoulders and her hands grasp the material, finding solace there.
Their mouths separate with an embarrassingly loud smack. Lucrezia suddenly feels giddy and she giggles, her hands smoothing the fabric of his overcoat.
"What sort of kiss was that?" she asks, tilting her head.
"That was the I love you kiss," he laughs, bumping her nose with his. "And this is the kiss of passion."
Cesare bends down again to press his mouth to hers but this time it's different, very different. His hands grip her dress tightly and his tongue finds the seam of her lips and he prods there until she opens to his insistence. Lucrezia's fingers itch to reach for his hair but she doesn't for concern for his scalp.
"You must let go of your inhibitions, 'Crezia," he whispers against her lips and she starts shaking again. "Can you do that for me?"
She nods before standing on the tips of her toes to kiss him hard and when he grunts in surprise at her force, she smiles with satisfaction. Her mouth opens under his without urging, this time. Cesare cups her face and tilts her head, allowing him to explore her mouth more fully and she releases a soft, little moan at his ministrations. The sound seems to spur him on and his hands travel to tangle in her golden tresses, tugging her closer. Lucrezia gasps against his lips before grasping the nape of his neck, tilting her head further to feel more of his mouth.
This kiss soon transitions into something feral and needy and she finds herself against a wall, warm hands pawing at her and traveling around her burning body. Cesare's lips move from her mouth to her jaw, small nips and tugs of teeth against her skin.
"And what kind of kisses are these?" she inquires breathlessly as he finds a sensitive spot below her ear.
"Kisses of desire, my love," he rumbles against her.
He suddenly turns them so he's the one against the wall. "Now, show me what you have learned."
Lucrezia starts by kissing his cheek, then his forehead. Her eyes flicker to his mouth nervously but sets her fear aside by immediately pushing her lips against his, placing her hand on the back of his neck, fingers curling at the ends of his hair. She can feel the tendons of his neck straining to not respond too eagerly and tries not to focus on that. Her lips open and her tongue rapidly finds his in a blur of twirls and pirouettes. She lingers there, living in this one perfect moment when everything had pieced itself together at last. Instead, her mouth moves to his jaw and neck to place wet, wanton kisses there, leisurely nipping where she saw fit.
"You. . . are a quick learner, sis."
She smiles brightly at him. "That was a bit easier than Latin, though."
"Minutes to learn, a lifetime to perfect."