(Untitled)

[mrmoneypenny]

Reading, on the couch, is one of Villiers' favourite activities.

Even more so, now, that he has the perfect cuddlepartner when doing so.

"Ode 22," he reads. And smiles.

A kiss, to the top of Imriel's head. "Quite befitting of you, I must say."

And he reads:

"Integer vitae scelerisque purus

Comments

[broodingbacchus]

Aww.

If it weren't for the fact that he refuses to be noisy while listening to poetry, Imriel would be purring right about now.

Pity he's forgotten most of the good D'Angeline poetry, or he could return the favour. Something of Anafiel Delaunay's, perhaps. O dear my lord... he grins silently and presses a kiss to Villiers' collarbone, tucking his head under the older man's chin.

[mrmoneypenny]

More cuddling.

"It's so rare, in my time, to find someone who actually appreciates Classical poems," he murmurs. "Geniuses in their own right, masters of their own craft."

[broodingbacchus]

"Mm. To be fair, these aren't nearly as classical to me as they are to you."

He twists his head to aim an impish smirk in Villiers' direction.

"A few hundred years or a few thousand is something of a difference."

[mrmoneypenny]

"A point well worth making."

He smiles as he looks down.

"Were these educational texts, then, by that time? Or was Catullus a collection of bawdy lyrics and obsessive stalking?"

[broodingbacchus]

"Oh, we study the Tiberian poets as--" He shrugs. "The Tiberian poets." He laughs softly. "We have our own bawdy lyrics, should it come to that."

[mrmoneypenny]

Villiers, at that, laughs. Warmly and amusedly.

"Even more coarse than Catullus' 80?"

Why no, he totally didn't memorize all of the naughty poems when he was still in school.

[broodingbacchus]

"I am not a student of poetry," says Imriel innocently.

Well, innocent except for the smirk.

Which is kind of like "dry except for the lake", all things considered.

[mrmoneypenny]

"Well, let's see what you think of this one," he says, and moves just enough to replace his book with a much thicker volume. One that was, ironically, given to him by Momiji. Partly on accident, actually.

"Quid dicam, Gelli, quare rosea ista labella
hiberna fiant candidiora nive,
mane domo cum exis et cum te octava quiete
e molli longo suscitat hora die?
nescio quid certe est: an vere fama susurrat
grandia te medii tenta vorare viri?
sic certe est: clamant Victoris rupta miselli
ilia, et emulso labra notata sero.Or, for those of you not so Latin-inclined

[broodingbacchus]

He snorts.

"Somewhat inelegant."

A hand trails idly down Villiers' ribs.

"Then again."

[mrmoneypenny]

"Well, that's Catullus for you."

And then, a playful smack on Imriel's arse, just because.

"Young, abrasive, and with a particular skill for insults and obsession alike."

[broodingbacchus]

The slow-moving hand suddenly acquires fingernails and speed.

Imriel grins, slides up a bit, and props himself up on his other elbow to give Villiers a very thorough kiss.

[mrmoneypenny]

And that? That is the sound of the little wheels in Villiers' thinking little brain grinding to a halt.

And mmm. A kiss.

And...and.

[broodingbacchus]

Best way to shut your lover up ever.

Mmm indeed.

[mrmoneypenny]

See, Villiers is quiet now. Book forgotten, laid aside, and hands curling around Imriel's form.

Holding him close, because. Because.

...Villiers doesn't talk that much, does he?

[broodingbacchus]

Oh, by no means.

It's just that those happy little nmmph noises he makes are so much more fun than talking. :D

[mrmoneypenny]

True, true.

Nuzzle nuzzle nuzzle.

Whispered: "What ever am I to do with you..."