Comments | the_love_hotel: Floor 32,000,201 (Winter in July) + The Abbey Of St. Phallusine

falsicrimen in the_love_hotel

Floor 32,000,201 (Winter in July) + The Abbey Of St. Phallusine

Jul 07, 2011 03:06

Winter had always been his least favorite season - traveling was at its most difficult, even on foot, and harsh conditions always meant longer missions, time wasted, and frustration galore - but Abel liked to think he’d soldiered through it admirably, in spite of all its hardships, for at least half the past decade. A freak snowstorm in the dead ( Read more... )

pairing: m/*, series: trinity blood

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falsicrimen July 7 2011, 19:50:30 UTC

He shouldn't have been nearly as comfortable being dragged up from where he'd fallen by the throat of his cassock, but in truth, this sort of thing happened to him often enough. Though usually under far less friendly circumstance. Even if he was occasionally rather intimidating, Leon generally seemed to mean well, and that was more than enough for Abel. That, and the fact that he wasn't actually being strangled, at present - not that that had once damaged his opinions of his assailants, yet ( ... )

falsicrimen July 18 2011, 07:59:23 UTC

"H-Huh?" Lulled into that comfortably dim realm between sleep and waking by the soothing hand at his back, Abel was quite clearly startled by Leon's sudden admission. If Leon didn't want to leave, then did he want... To stay with him? Surely he'd missed something in his own semi-drunken haze; what could he even mean by that? It was absurd to think he should simply take that statement at face value. There was no good reason for Leon to say something like that, let alone for him to mean it ( ... )

lionguard July 18 2011, 13:47:17 UTC

Some part of him dimly resented that Abel was so coherent, so calm, after so much drink, when they were pressed against one another like this--and that Leon himself hardly knew what he was trying to say. This might have been easier if there had been even a hint of a tremor in the man's gentle voice. Or maybe not. Maybe he would have backed down in the face of any uncertainty. If he had courage to speak and act now, it was a fleeting kind of courage, bolstered by whiskey; there was no telling how long it would last him ( ... )

falsicrimen July 19 2011, 06:14:05 UTC

If he seemed too steady for the amount of alcohol he'd downed, before, it was a short-lived illusion. The hand on his back he hadn't minded so much - whether mostly for selfish reasons or because it genuinely hadn't worried him - but that careful touch, the soft of a too warm palm against his cheek... There was no mistaking the weird intimacy that spurred it on, and all at once he thought he could see quite clearly the fierce struggle raging behind Leon's mute facade. And the notion that perhaps this was not altogether a new thing, brewing somewhere indistinct between them, was sudden and unnerving ( ... )

lionguard July 19 2011, 13:38:17 UTC

"I'm drunk," he admitted, low and as steady as possible, running his fingers over Abel's hair in reassurance. "But it's not--it has nothing to do with this." Except that it had given him the courage to do what he'd wanted to do for a long, long time. His skin still seemed to feel the pressure of Abel's tense fists against his chest and the way his mouth had fit against Leon's. How he hadn't pulled away or tried to stop him, though his averted gaze made something twist in his chest. He couldn't bear it if he'd scared the man, or worse, trespassed where he wasn't wanted. It had been a surprise thing, even to him, so he couldn't expect any great welcome, but still ( ... )

falsicrimen July 20 2011, 06:50:07 UTC

"That's... Kind of you to say. Flattering, really, but-" He couldn't. Didn't Leon understand that? His mind was fuzzy from the drink, and somehow the other man seemed to have an incidentally excellent grasp on his greater weaknesses - the warmth of his breath, that soft brush of skin against his throat made Abel tense, twisting against the sheets as if he could sink back into them further. This, now, it was entirely too much to sort out all at once, the way he was being asked. Maybe he hadn't been completely innocent in thoughts of Leon in the past, his own wandering attractions of frequent and superficial kind. But he hadn't for a second expected any measure of reciprocation ( ... )

lionguard July 20 2011, 13:39:53 UTC

It twisted in him to see that carefully blank gaze returned to him, saying nothing of any hope that they might find in each other the solace and enduring companionship that Leon wanted so badly. It felt as though a fist was closed around his heart, too tightly for it to really beat. The brush of fingers against his jaw made him want to protest, but in the face of those words he had nothing; his own expression was still ( ... )

falsicrimen July 21 2011, 06:27:50 UTC

"Just that-" Maybe it wasn't so much to ask. Maybe, after he'd already drawn out the painful inevitability of rejection, had had no other option but to hand Leon's heart back to him as hurt and ruined as he'd received it. He couldn't fix anything; he was no instrument of healing, incapable of even being kind enough just to pretend, at a time like this ( ... )

lionguard July 21 2011, 13:55:31 UTC

Abel's hand curved over his, and somehow that small gesture said more to Leon than even the man's words did, accustomed as he was to communicating in ways beyond the verbal. It was such a small thing, only a little comfort in return, but it was initiated, it was made of Abel's own volition...after a few moments, his hand lifted the other man's, turning it over, and he kissed the palm briefly before setting it down again. It was foolish and blind, maybe, to hope that the smallest of acquiescences on Abel's part would lead to what Leon so badly wanted from him, but the hope was there nonetheless, a tiny flame no matter how he tried to extinguish it ( ... )

falsicrimen July 22 2011, 07:18:56 UTC

The kiss, overwhelming as it was, again, Abel had good reason to expect. The soft, adamant press of lips didn't throw him off balance quite as badly as it had the first time - though this new and almost desperately affectionate Leon would take more than a little getting used to. A part of him still hoped it was only the alcohol, and that they might yet come to their senses and end this before they went any further. A part of him that was in no way tied to the warm feeling in the pit of his stomach (and that was certainly not just the liquor, any longer) or the tingle in his fingertips as he buried his hands in Leon's dark hair ( ... )

lionguard July 22 2011, 13:28:29 UTC

He moved with Abel by instinct, letting himself be overturned, though perhaps choice in the matter was more an illusion than he first thought, because he often forgot just how strong Abel was, when he wasn't watching him fight. He seemed so pliant and careless of what other people did to him, but he had strength enough to pin Leon easily, and he found himself truly surprised to end up on his back with the man straddling his waist. It wasn't a gesture he'd have immediately expected ( ... )

falsicrimen July 23 2011, 07:50:10 UTC

It was far worse, this time, a weak, pale groan of a sound that should have been completely mortifying as he ducked his head to Leon's chest, the sudden bite of his nails dimpling the warm flesh beneath his fingertips. He needed no encouragement to move his hips in counterpoint to Leon's, embarrassed that it might be so painfully obvious how much he did want this, wanted something he hadn't yet figured out entirely but couldn't help chasing after, still. Maybe there had been something more to that drink-- An easy justification for such irresponsible behavior, for why he hadn't stopped this yet, instead only indulging every fervent request of him, inciting the man beneath him ever further ( ... )

lionguard July 23 2011, 22:53:51 UTC

The alcohol in his veins blunted feeling to some degree, but here there was so much to feel, the motion of Abel's hips against his, the heat and wetness of Abel's mouth on his skin; it ran together into a thick and feverish pleasure until he was gasping with it and one of his hands left the other man's hips to tangle again in those long silver strands, ardent. "Wait," he managed presently, in a thick, unsteady voice, pushing himself up on one elbow so that he could finish the work of stripping his shirt over his head, letting it fall unseen to the side of the bed as his fingers went back to where they had been and his body shifted and pressed up and sought to feel as much of Abel against him as it could ( ... )

falsicrimen August 14 2011, 07:13:25 UTC

His wandering touches faltered to a stop at that struggling acquiescence, the gravity in Leon's voice betraying more than just agreement in passing, and something rattled darkened Abel's expression. Oh. He wasn't going to make this any easier, was he? Hard as Abel had tried to be the realist, making promises of nothing beyond this one night, he still hadn't managed to disabuse Leon of that hopeless way of thinking. In any other sort of situation, that would have been admirable -- but now, here, it only served to frustrate him in the strangest way ( ... )

lionguard August 15 2011, 13:08:01 UTC

Not rude, maybe, but demanding, more than Abel seemed to perceive. Or maybe he did perceive it, and that was why his hands and his mouth on Leon's skin were still so light, as though to pull away from the devotion he wanted to give him. He looked back at him and didn't reply, except, after his eyes had lingered a long time on Abel's flushed face, to slide his hands up his arms and grip him gently and pull him down to him again, taking his lower lip between his teeth. His hands sank into the man's hair for the kiss that followed, his hips lifting up once more to push against Abel's in a deliberate slide of friction ( ... )

falsicrimen August 16 2011, 06:25:50 UTC

Despite his best effort to keep a distance between them (emotionally, if in no other way), Abel was pliant in his grip, unresisting as he was dragged down for another kiss. He could see the harm in it, but he couldn't stop himself, still, or simply didn't care to, now-- The soft startled sound he made against his lips when Leon slid up against him brought a darker shade of red to the surface of his skin, unmistakably embarrassed, but even as his whole body tensed, Abel was pushing back against him, forgetting his own fleeting resolve in favor of that rough friction.

"Oh." The word was more sigh than conscious reply, as he leant only half an ear to whatever it was Leon was saying, because, really, just the sound of his voice was enough, and the careful pressure behind his hands, and the always sharp sensation of teeth barely brushing over skin so close to his pulse. The dizzy, lightheaded feeling of lingering intoxication hardly compared, and it was only by some errant stroke of luck that Abel was listening at all at Leon's quiet ( ... )

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