[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.]
[Onto the bed they go. Hans takes this moment to catch his breath, his face already burning as he straddles Edmond. He stays that way, not quite sitting in his lap, his breathing still shaky from the kiss.
...
A little awkwardly:]
Should I take it off now?
[Kissing is easier. They've practiced kissing plenty of times. But this is a realm where he's relying on Edmond's expertise because he knows, right? Sailors like to have fun during their voyages, right? And he was courting a girl not too long ago...]
[it's not the most helpful, but he's still managing to seem like he knows what he's doing. still, to cover it up, he's got Hans in his lap, and that means that he can touch him - slowly, learning him in his fingertips that go from collarbones and chest down to his sides. it means he can lean in and kiss him on the neck simply because it's exposed, trying to think less and do more.]
[Seems straightforward enough. He probably has to move a bit to get his underwear down... but his train of thought is interrupted by Edmond's touch. Warmth blooms where his companion touches him and, when his neck is kissed, Edmond's hair tickles the side of Hans's face. He can't help breathing out a laugh as he runs his fingers through his scalp, his gaze fond.]
You touch me like I'm fine art. Well? What's your expert opinion, Monsieur Curator? Do I belong in the Louvre?
[he says it with admiration, kissing again before he goes on.]
You're too priceless to go in a museum. Honest men would be tempted towards thievery if they saw you. I would rather keep you all to myself, just as I have you now.
[Not the Collins'. Not the world's. In Edmond's arms is a sanctuary with the promise of safety. The hands on his waist steady him just as much as they thrill him, and he's certain that, if Edmond picked the right spot, he could feel Hans's pulse in his throat.
His fingers curl and they tug. A little force to encourage him.]
[he smiles against Hans's skin, riding this wave of bravado a little further. when he hears that, he begins to think he can work this out on his own, because if it's this easy to touch him, kiss him, speak to him - then surely it can't be that difficult. even if his heart is still humming in his chest.
pulling back, he'll give Hans the space he needs.]
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inkwreaths2019-08-07 11:11 pm
no subject
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.]
no subject
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."
no subject
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.]
no subject
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.
no subject
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?]
no subject
--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.
no subject
[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.
no subject
[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?
no subject
...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.]
no subject
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.]
no subject
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.]
no subject
...
A little awkwardly:]
Should I take it off now?
[Kissing is easier. They've practiced kissing plenty of times. But this is a realm where he's relying on Edmond's expertise because he knows, right? Sailors like to have fun during their voyages, right? And he was courting a girl not too long ago...]
no subject
[it's not the most helpful, but he's still managing to seem like he knows what he's doing. still, to cover it up, he's got Hans in his lap, and that means that he can touch him - slowly, learning him in his fingertips that go from collarbones and chest down to his sides. it means he can lean in and kiss him on the neck simply because it's exposed, trying to think less and do more.]
no subject
You touch me like I'm fine art. Well? What's your expert opinion, Monsieur Curator? Do I belong in the Louvre?
no subject
[he says it with admiration, kissing again before he goes on.]
You're too priceless to go in a museum. Honest men would be tempted towards thievery if they saw you. I would rather keep you all to myself, just as I have you now.
no subject
[Not the Collins'. Not the world's. In Edmond's arms is a sanctuary with the promise of safety. The hands on his waist steady him just as much as they thrill him, and he's certain that, if Edmond picked the right spot, he could feel Hans's pulse in his throat.
His fingers curl and they tug. A little force to encourage him.]
Won't you make me sing for you?
no subject
pulling back, he'll give Hans the space he needs.]
Do you even need to ask that question?