[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.]
[he watches him, honestly fascinated by everything about his frame. every part of him revealed feels like a gift given - his wrists, his chest, his waist. everything is so real, far beyond the fantasies he allowed himself to have in private, and he finds himself moving closer, reaching for Hans before he says those words that mean he has to obey. dropping his hand, he sighs theatrically, pushing himself up.]
Making me do it myself in the end...
[his layers are less, more practical, but he still takes his time with them. his back is to Hans when his shirt is undone, pushed off his shoulders, and he doesn't look back or Hans might see how his hands ever so slightly shake. it's exciting, it's nervewracking, and he can't stop halfway. all his clothes go to the side, to be dealt with later - he'll know what to do. it's such a simple thing, undressing, he's done it a thousand times, but with Hans there, it takes on its own meaning. finally he's the one in his underwear, and he turns around, letting him look.
[The eyes may be a window to the soul, but Hans thinks they can be mirrors as well. He sees himself reflected in Edmond's gaze, catches a glimpse of how the other man sees him, and the realization brings the smile back to his face. It's his turn to watch. He does so, half-turned, his hands picking at the blanket as he tells himself to wait - stay, until Edmond is done.
--Hans has forgotten how much his companion has grown since they first met. When the shirt slides off, revealing the slope of the shoulders and back beneath, the way Edmond's hair parts at the neck. A heady feeling has seized hold of Hans. It almost feels as if he's drunk.
So when Edmond turns to look at him, Hans is already moving towards him. He forgets the chill, forgets his insecurities. In this moment, he's overcome by what he's been permitted to see.]
I dreamed about you, more than you'll ever know. [There's an almost reverent look in his eyes as he touches Edmond's cheek.] But you're more beautiful than any dream this feeble mind of mine can invent. You're... truly my Adonis.
How shameless I've been, to be roaming your dreams so.
[that look in his companion's face is something he commits to memory - he hardly feels worthy of it. instead, he feels so light, the smile on his lips genuine, and he's happier than he remembers being in a long time.]
I'll be Adonis for you and no other, if you forgive my trepass.
[Hans's hand glides down to Edmond's shoulder, nails lightly scratching at the skin. He wets his lips. Follow your impulses, his companion said. He'll do his best.]
If-- maybe, I wished for you to dominate me, heart, body, and soul?
[oh. he's affected by that - it's obvious in his eyes - and he pauses before he can reply, before he can raise his hand to Hans's face, touching his lips with his thumb.]
...Only because you granted me permission to do so. Because you wished for it, and said so.
[because he is allowed to touch him, to love him, to fulfill his wishes as best he can.]
But in return...I don't want you to apologize for anything tonight.
[not himself, not what he wants. he is allowed to exist, without caveats.]
[Without thinking, his lips part ever-so-slightly beneath Edmond's touch. He meant it, when he said Edmond was the only one who accepted him. All of his flaws were somehow desired by his companion.
A shiver runs through Hans's body and he moves in to kiss him hard on the mouth, desperate to convey to him in that moment how much Edmond means to him. His fingers dig into warm skin, as if to hold him in place.]
[they might as well root him to the spot, for Edmond's eyes close in favor of him kissing back until he's breathless. he can feel the intensity, returns it all - Hans matters to him in a way that a person should matter if one is even thinking the word love, and he tries to pour it into the kiss. that he wants him even if he's never admitted to it before today, that he cherishes him deeply, that he isn't going anywhere. he's Hans's to keep, to touch, to hold.
when they have to breathe, that's when Edmond tries to guide them back to the bed. it'll be easier if that's involved.]
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inkwreaths2019-08-07 11:11 pm
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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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Making me do it myself in the end...
[his layers are less, more practical, but he still takes his time with them. his back is to Hans when his shirt is undone, pushed off his shoulders, and he doesn't look back or Hans might see how his hands ever so slightly shake. it's exciting, it's nervewracking, and he can't stop halfway. all his clothes go to the side, to be dealt with later - he'll know what to do. it's such a simple thing, undressing, he's done it a thousand times, but with Hans there, it takes on its own meaning. finally he's the one in his underwear, and he turns around, letting him look.
was this still what he wanted?]
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--Hans has forgotten how much his companion has grown since they first met. When the shirt slides off, revealing the slope of the shoulders and back beneath, the way Edmond's hair parts at the neck. A heady feeling has seized hold of Hans. It almost feels as if he's drunk.
So when Edmond turns to look at him, Hans is already moving towards him. He forgets the chill, forgets his insecurities. In this moment, he's overcome by what he's been permitted to see.]
I dreamed about you, more than you'll ever know. [There's an almost reverent look in his eyes as he touches Edmond's cheek.] But you're more beautiful than any dream this feeble mind of mine can invent. You're... truly my Adonis.
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[that look in his companion's face is something he commits to memory - he hardly feels worthy of it. instead, he feels so light, the smile on his lips genuine, and he's happier than he remembers being in a long time.]
I'll be Adonis for you and no other, if you forgive my trepass.
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[Hans's hand glides down to Edmond's shoulder, nails lightly scratching at the skin. He wets his lips. Follow your impulses, his companion said. He'll do his best.]
If-- maybe, I wished for you to dominate me, heart, body, and soul?
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...Only because you granted me permission to do so. Because you wished for it, and said so.
[because he is allowed to touch him, to love him, to fulfill his wishes as best he can.]
But in return...I don't want you to apologize for anything tonight.
[not himself, not what he wants. he is allowed to exist, without caveats.]
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A shiver runs through Hans's body and he moves in to kiss him hard on the mouth, desperate to convey to him in that moment how much Edmond means to him. His fingers dig into warm skin, as if to hold him in place.]
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when they have to breathe, that's when Edmond tries to guide them back to the bed. it'll be easier if that's involved.]
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