untamedantinous: (speechifying)
[personal profile] untamedantinous
Enjolras has been puttering about the mansion in the past few days since the wedding dance. Today, he has spent some time outside with Temeraire -- it's getting colder, and the warmth of Temeraire's pavilion has become quite a snug little place to read to him, when Galahad is not. He had moved onto some canne de combat practice after their customary few chapters a day, which had occupied him until just recently.

The winter is coming in faster, now, and Enjolras has never been one for the cold. Certainly the south of France is not as far south as many other places in the world, but he grew up accustomed to it being somewhat warmer there than it was in Paris. So now, he is curled up in front of a fire that is crackling merrily, sipping at some vin chaud as he leafs through a book of recipes. There is, indeed, a pile of books nearby -- both cookbooks and others, but right now he is looking for something easy to set his sights on for his next baking adventure.

Date: 2024-01-05 11:34 pm (UTC)
timebethine: A greyscale picture of a white man with curly brown hair; his collar is askew in the wind. He has a serious expression. (Default)
From: [personal profile] timebethine
"Come here," says Laertes, as though they aren't already crushing each other close; he feels as though he can't get close enough. He smooths his palms up from Lucien's hips to his ribs to his shoulders, then scratches back down as though he means to carve wings on Lucien's back.

Date: 2024-01-05 11:56 pm (UTC)
timebethine: A greyscale picture of a white man with curly brown hair; his collar is askew in the wind. He has a serious expression. (Default)
From: [personal profile] timebethine
"As I love thee," Laertes answers, low but fervent. "Wouldst have me make thy quietus?"

Date: 2024-01-06 12:03 am (UTC)
timebethine: A greyscale picture of a white man with curly brown hair; his collar is askew in the wind. He has a serious expression. (Default)
From: [personal profile] timebethine
"That's a fine compliment," Laertes laughs as he works Lucien's trousers open. "I have a lover who likes to spend on my command--wouldst thou play that game?"

Date: 2024-01-06 12:19 am (UTC)
timebethine: A greyscale picture of a white man with curly brown hair; his collar is askew in the wind. He has a serious expression. (Default)
From: [personal profile] timebethine
"Thou hast, and done so well. I'm so pleased with thee." As his hand finds heated flesh, Laertes leans in to sink his teeth into Lucien's throat--a hard bite, but tender, with all the drunken sweetness of a kiss.

Date: 2024-01-06 03:06 am (UTC)
timebethine: A greyscale picture of a white man with curly brown hair; his collar is askew in the wind. He has a serious expression. (Default)
From: [personal profile] timebethine
Laertes shifts the grip of his teeth, working his way up the side of Lucien's neck. He strokes Lucien slow and firm, his grip inexorable. He wants it to hurt. He wants to make Lucien scream. He wants Lucien to have bruises to touch, and remember.

Date: 2024-01-06 04:13 am (UTC)
timebethine: A greyscale picture of a white man with curly brown hair; his collar is askew in the wind. He has a serious expression. (Default)
From: [personal profile] timebethine
"More sharpness? Or more speed?" He rakes his free hand down Lucien's spine.

Date: 2024-01-06 02:40 pm (UTC)
timebethine: A greyscale picture of a white man with curly brown hair; his collar is askew in the wind. He has a serious expression. (Default)
From: [personal profile] timebethine
"Even to blood?"

Date: 2024-01-06 02:56 pm (UTC)
timebethine: A greyscale picture of a white man with curly brown hair; his collar is askew in the wind. He has a serious expression. (Default)
From: [personal profile] timebethine
Laertes raises his head to catch Lucien in a swift, searing kiss, then sinks his teeth into the other side of Lucien's throat. He seals his lips around the bite and sucks hard, intent on leaving a mark--intent on having Lucien remember this tryst every time he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Laertes claws at his back over and over again, wounds crossing and recrossing--his nails are too blunt to break the skin, but they can raise thick red welts everywhere they they press.

Date: 2024-01-06 03:12 pm (UTC)
timebethine: A greyscale picture of a white man with curly brown hair; his collar is askew in the wind. He has a serious expression. (Default)
From: [personal profile] timebethine
And Laertes unlatches his teeth from Lucien's neck to press a kiss to his ear and breathe there, "Come for me."

Date: 2024-01-06 03:31 pm (UTC)
timebethine: A greyscale picture of a white man with curly brown hair; his collar is askew in the wind. He has a serious expression. (Default)
From: [personal profile] timebethine
Laertes only laughs and wraps Lucien in his arms, holding and rocking him. "My sweet man," he says; "my heart, thou wert so good for me. Didst heed me so well, and make such sweet sounds for me. I love thee. Thou art mine."

Date: 2024-01-06 03:41 pm (UTC)
timebethine: A greyscale picture of a white man with curly brown hair; his collar is askew in the wind. He has a serious expression. (Default)
From: [personal profile] timebethine
"Didst thou like it?" Laertes asks. He nuzzles right back, and presses his smile against Lucien's cheek.

Date: 2024-01-06 03:58 pm (UTC)
timebethine: A greyscale picture of a white man with curly brown hair; his collar is askew in the wind. He has a serious expression. (Default)
From: [personal profile] timebethine
"Next time, thou canst have charge of me, and see whether thou likest it as well," Laertes offers. "Take care, though; sometimes, a great rush of desolation comes after a game like this. It's usually brief, and fades with care--but I would not have thee think thou hast done something wrong, if it should come."

Date: 2024-01-06 04:14 pm (UTC)
timebethine: A greyscale picture of a white man with curly brown hair; his collar is askew in the wind. He has a serious expression. (Default)
From: [personal profile] timebethine
"Lie down with me a while," says Laertes. "After a rest, we can try our hands at an onion soup."

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