[it becomes blindingly obvious in that moment, and was rather a thing he was trying to ignore, actually, but now he's flushed with embarrassment.]
That's not - I wasn't trying to imply anything by what I said, I only meant exactly what I said because I wasn't trying to make you nervous by saying anything else, and it's not as though - well, actually, it is as though - but that wasn't what we were discussing, we were...you asked to sleep in my bed, and that's what it is.
[if God is merciful, he'll send something to distract them utterly from the mess Edmond is making of everything. now it's all completely awkward, and Hans won't want to sleep next to him at all.]
Edmond, I get it. You're a Catholic. Just-- you don't have to explain yourself.
[Never mind the fact that the mere idea of sleeping with Edmond makes Hans dizzy. Is it literal or metaphorical right now? Hell if he knows, he feels completely out of his element here! He's never gotten this far with anyone before!
[him being Catholic has nothing to do with this - in fact, he tries to leave God out of the equation as much as he can around Hans. it would only complicate things more than they are, try to make him feel guilty for having an honest love as he did. generally, he took certain things more loosely than a priest would appreciate.]
I was thinking of two different things at the same time.
[his voice somewhat trails off, because he's lost track of where this conversation is supposed to be going.]
[An awkward silence nestles between them. Hans looks about the room, as if he can find something to help him. There isn't a way out -- only forward. He dug this hole. He can climb out of it.]
... um.
[Hans shifts his weight from one leg to the other.]
I don't want to pressure you. I wouldn't blame you if my rotten mouth soured you towards me, either. All I want to know is... [Just say it.] ... do you want to know me more intimately?
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[Hans asks, and Edmond looks up from where he's sitting on the bed, cheeks still pink as he takes a breath, looks away, and looks back. something in him seems to be fighting, until it's over and he lets out a certain bit of tension.]
...yes.
[there, he's said it out loud.]
But never would I ever want to pressure you. I swear, I would never lay my hands on you in a way you did not wish - if you want to forget I said anything, I'll speak no more.
[The knot in Hans's stomach undoes itself and it becomes easier to breathe, to focus on his companion before him. When Edmond finishes speaking, Hans kneels before him to take his hands.]
I know you would never harm me. I feel the safest with you. No one else.
[For no one else looked after Hans with such attention and care.]
These hands of yours... I trust them as if they were my own. If you wish to know me...
[Steady now, don't let your embarrassment take over.]
[the endearment strikes him, hits where his tension lies, saying it's alright. his feelings not rejected out of hand, but trusted, and his mouth feels dry for it. no, he'd never harm Hans - not by any choice.
he gently squeezes Hans's hands, so that his own might not shake with the mix of things he feels right now. his excitement and his affection run up against his nerves, and it's quite the combination.]
[he...sort of knows how to do this. except his experience is mostly that of being with a woman, and even then it was fumbling and nothing to be really proud of. with men his experience is even more lacking, never really venturing too far. but he can try for Hans's sake, pretend he has a little more bravado than he feels.
gently, he tugs on Hans's hands, trying to pull him up out of kneeling and closer.]
Just...go with your impulses.
[whatever he wanted to do, he should do it - that was the only way to learn. and it might give Edmond a little more leeway in pretending he had a much better idea of what was happening than he did.]
[Hans begins to get up when he hears Edmond's advice. He purses his lips and gives him a flat look.]
Impulses? [Before he can stop himself, his sarcasm pops off.] It's not like I'm a dog in heat, you know. These sort of things don't come naturally to me. I'm... you know I'm a virgin.
[virgin or not, there were some things that just ended up happening.]
...Whatever you want to do, just do it without thinking too hard. You don't lack an imagination.
[and to prevent him from going on about not knowing anything or getting lost in his own doubts, he tugs again on his hands, leaning up and halfway to getting up in order to kiss him. it was fine. it would be fine. for them both.]
[Talking is easier than doing. There's a flood of words balanced on the tip of Hans's tongue - imagination for this? i'll have two left feet. i'll be a mess. what if you don't enjoy it? - but Edmond seems to have anticipated the issue. All of his worries retreat at the kiss. The warmth of the gesture reminds Hans that he's in good hands. It'll be okay. He straightens up so he can kiss Edmond back, some tension easing out of him.
Hans stays close when he breaks it off - close enough to hear his lover's breathing - and he swallows.]
[the kiss hides some of Edmond's own anxieties, that he's pushing too much, that this wasn't going to work out, that he should have never brought it up at all, but he tries to close his eyes and forget. he's just....nervous. because it's him, because it should be right.
when they break, he opens his eyes, looking up into Hans's, and getting struck yet again by their blue. in this light, they look positively endless.]
[Spin it into a story. Paint it over with metaphors to make it more appealing to taste. There's no more hesitation in Hans's eyes. There's his nervousness, yes, but isn't that the case with every first time? He keeps his head up, doesn't allow himself to look away from those golden eyes, bright as the sun.]
Sometimes, when we part, I like to imagine that you come back to carry me away instead. It's always in the dead of the night. [He glances away in spite of his resolution not to.] You take me to your home or your boat, and you see the miserable state I'm in and take pity upon me.
You might want to start on it. Unless...you want me to do it.
[he almost hopes Hans says no, because if he says yes and gives him that much permission Edmond is pretty sure his heart will stop beating for a minute. he has to deflect, make this a little less serious.]
Though if you're out to show yourself off, that's fine too.
[fine then. fine. his instincts, he can do something like that if he tries. he stands up after a moment before he takes Hans's face in his hands so he can kiss him, leaning his whole body into it. it's less sweet but no less sincere, more present in the moment, as if it had to happen right then, until he absolutely has to breathe.
breaking away at long last, there's a small flush on Edmond's cheeks, but his expression is searching, making sure it's still all alright.]
Would you be the one to undress me, afterwards?
[that is asking Hans to take care of both of them, but if he's following his impulses, then he's going to ask the questions he wants to.]
Hans thought his complaint would be written off, a slip of the tongue that was common in their banters. But Edmond acts upon it and, before his mind catches on to what's happening, those calloused hands have taken hold of his face, soon followed by a kiss.
The gesture in itself isn't new. They've kissed many times in many places, always with care to their surroundings, but never like this. It's a kiss that washes away Hans's thoughts as a warm wave of sweetness, melts the walls that are still raised around his ego. He kisses back, and when it continues, he slides his hands up so he can lace his fingers behind Edmond's neck.
When they break it off, all of Hans's earlier irritation is gone. There's a smile he can't help, small but genuine, and he tips his forehead against Edmond's in response.]
In the words of a famous sailor... [He pitches his voice to imitate Edmond.] "I'd be honored."
[he laughs, genuine and amused, and drops another kiss on Hans's mouth before he'll slowly pull away, unwilling to lose his touch but accepting the need to do so if he's to try and take off his clothes. instead, he'll go back to the bed, finding a comfortable way to lean back so that he can watch Hans.
he doesn't need to do anything special, it's merely him himself that fascinates Edmond so, that has his eyes lingering over his skin, his form now in a way that he's never allowed himself to look before. thoughts of the outside world, of family, of God are so very far, and the only witnesses are the night and stars and himself. it's poetic, really.]
[Hans never thought of himself as someone worth a second look. He had always been a gangly child who didn't grow into his long limbs until his early adulthood. Between the two of them, he thinks it's clear who has the better body. Edmond always seemed comfortable with himself, always moved with the grace and power of a tiger. And Hans - he feels awkward and large as he undoes his clothes, fingers fumbling once or twice over the buttons.
There's no smart comments as he works. Hans works layer by layer. When he takes an article off, he's careful to set it down on the chair. Neat. Tidy. When his chest is bare, he looks up for a moment at Edmond, cheeks tinged pink by the cold air, before continuing. It isn't long before he stands before Edmond in only his underwear.
It's terrifying to be seen. But this is different from the theater stage. So he sits on the bed, hands in his lap as if he's a prim lady at a tea party with strangers.]
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inkwreaths2019-08-07 11:11 pm
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How on earth did you court that girl.
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That's not - I wasn't trying to imply anything by what I said, I only meant exactly what I said because I wasn't trying to make you nervous by saying anything else, and it's not as though - well, actually, it is as though - but that wasn't what we were discussing, we were...you asked to sleep in my bed, and that's what it is.
[if God is merciful, he'll send something to distract them utterly from the mess Edmond is making of everything. now it's all completely awkward, and Hans won't want to sleep next to him at all.]
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[Never mind the fact that the mere idea of sleeping with Edmond makes Hans dizzy. Is it literal or metaphorical right now? Hell if he knows, he feels completely out of his element here! He's never gotten this far with anyone before!
Hans finally lifts his head up.]
We were thinking of different things, that's all.
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[him being Catholic has nothing to do with this - in fact, he tries to leave God out of the equation as much as he can around Hans. it would only complicate things more than they are, try to make him feel guilty for having an honest love as he did. generally, he took certain things more loosely than a priest would appreciate.]
I was thinking of two different things at the same time.
[his voice somewhat trails off, because he's lost track of where this conversation is supposed to be going.]
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... um.
[Hans shifts his weight from one leg to the other.]
I don't want to pressure you. I wouldn't blame you if my rotten mouth soured you towards me, either. All I want to know is... [Just say it.] ... do you want to know me more intimately?
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...yes.
[there, he's said it out loud.]
But never would I ever want to pressure you. I swear, I would never lay my hands on you in a way you did not wish - if you want to forget I said anything, I'll speak no more.
he's having a lot of feelings rn
I know you would never harm me. I feel the safest with you. No one else.
[For no one else looked after Hans with such attention and care.]
These hands of yours... I trust them as if they were my own. If you wish to know me...
[Steady now, don't let your embarrassment take over.]
... you have my permission, mon cher.
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he gently squeezes Hans's hands, so that his own might not shake with the mix of things he feels right now. his excitement and his affection run up against his nerves, and it's quite the combination.]
If you wish to do the same...I am yours.
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...
[It's so easy to play the role of the charming romantic but beyond that? Off the script? Hans flounders.]
I don't know how to do this.
[A muttered admission.]
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gently, he tugs on Hans's hands, trying to pull him up out of kneeling and closer.]
Just...go with your impulses.
[whatever he wanted to do, he should do it - that was the only way to learn. and it might give Edmond a little more leeway in pretending he had a much better idea of what was happening than he did.]
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Impulses? [Before he can stop himself, his sarcasm pops off.] It's not like I'm a dog in heat, you know. These sort of things don't come naturally to me. I'm... you know I'm a virgin.
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...Whatever you want to do, just do it without thinking too hard. You don't lack an imagination.
[and to prevent him from going on about not knowing anything or getting lost in his own doubts, he tugs again on his hands, leaning up and halfway to getting up in order to kiss him. it was fine. it would be fine. for them both.]
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Hans stays close when he breaks it off - close enough to hear his lover's breathing - and he swallows.]
I could tell you what I've thought about.
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when they break, he opens his eyes, looking up into Hans's, and getting struck yet again by their blue. in this light, they look positively endless.]
Tell me.
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Sometimes, when we part, I like to imagine that you come back to carry me away instead. It's always in the dead of the night. [He glances away in spite of his resolution not to.] You take me to your home or your boat, and you see the miserable state I'm in and take pity upon me.
[Don't look away.]
You help me with your hands.
[... Hans snorts.]
Listen to me, I can barely talk about it.
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when he speaks, it's soft. a secret, despite how they're alone.]
I could do that for you. No pity required.
[no, that's not exactly what he means, because it doesn't encapsulate what he's trying to convey.]
...I want to do that for you.
[no hesitation, just his honesty.]
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... if that's the case, I should get all this out of the way, shouldn't I?
[Hans twists at a button on his vest. Sarcasm is safe. Easy to spit out. So he falls back on it like a crutch.]
I don't think either of us have magic hands.
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[he almost hopes Hans says no, because if he says yes and gives him that much permission Edmond is pretty sure his heart will stop beating for a minute. he has to deflect, make this a little less serious.]
Though if you're out to show yourself off, that's fine too.
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What am I, a burlesque dancer?!
[He is losing control of this situation.]
I-- that's-- that's not what my fantasy was!
[... Hans scrutinizes Edmond a little closer.]
... is it yours...?
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[he's lost control of the situation entirely now.]
Listen, I don't care which of us takes your clothes off so long as they eventually come off.
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[Hans takes off his glasses with a huff.]
For crying out loud... what was it you said? Follow your instincts? You should do the same for yourself, Edmond.
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breaking away at long last, there's a small flush on Edmond's cheeks, but his expression is searching, making sure it's still all alright.]
Would you be the one to undress me, afterwards?
[that is asking Hans to take care of both of them, but if he's following his impulses, then he's going to ask the questions he wants to.]
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Hans thought his complaint would be written off, a slip of the tongue that was common in their banters. But Edmond acts upon it and, before his mind catches on to what's happening, those calloused hands have taken hold of his face, soon followed by a kiss.
The gesture in itself isn't new. They've kissed many times in many places, always with care to their surroundings, but never like this. It's a kiss that washes away Hans's thoughts as a warm wave of sweetness, melts the walls that are still raised around his ego. He kisses back, and when it continues, he slides his hands up so he can lace his fingers behind Edmond's neck.
When they break it off, all of Hans's earlier irritation is gone. There's a smile he can't help, small but genuine, and he tips his forehead against Edmond's in response.]
In the words of a famous sailor... [He pitches his voice to imitate Edmond.] "I'd be honored."
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he doesn't need to do anything special, it's merely him himself that fascinates Edmond so, that has his eyes lingering over his skin, his form now in a way that he's never allowed himself to look before. thoughts of the outside world, of family, of God are so very far, and the only witnesses are the night and stars and himself. it's poetic, really.]
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There's no smart comments as he works. Hans works layer by layer. When he takes an article off, he's careful to set it down on the chair. Neat. Tidy. When his chest is bare, he looks up for a moment at Edmond, cheeks tinged pink by the cold air, before continuing. It isn't long before he stands before Edmond in only his underwear.
It's terrifying to be seen. But this is different from the theater stage. So he sits on the bed, hands in his lap as if he's a prim lady at a tea party with strangers.]
It's your turn.
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