pontmercyfriend: (Busy)
Marius doesn't especially want to go out tonight. Not when he has his finals to prepare for, as well as his myriad of essays and projects to edit and finish. He also has a meeting later this week with his advisor he'd really like to start preparing for as well. Not to mention, he hasn't slept well this past week, what with his homework and the work load at Tintern Abbey. He's just about closed nearly every night this week, this night being the first that he has free.

But Ariel, a friend and fellow student, insists that he come out to drinks with her and Nichole, her girlfriend of nearly a year, well. He couldn't refuse, not when Ariel saved his ass on a research project a couple of months back.

His first thought when they enter the bar, a place called Styx, is that he is entirely overdressed for the occasion, considering the crowds on the dancefloor and otherwise. Men without shirts and women barely wearing anything at all. Lots of glitter and noise. A vibrant place, he sees, following Ariel and Nichole to the bar.

He feels like the third wheel a moment later, when his friends make their way to the dancefloor. They promise him they'll be right back, but, well. Marius knows better; he's seen that smile on Ariel's face many times before.

Well, he thinks, laying his chin across his folded arms on the table as he considers what he wants to drink, at least he can get drunk out of all of this.
pontmercyfriend: (Enthralled kissing)
Continued from here.

Marius delights in the huff of laughter that escapes from Freddie as he presses his hand against him, letting the breathless sound and the way Freddie's eyelids flutter wash right over him. He barely registers the noise of the door opening, clutching as he is at Freddie. He stumbles into the room, dragged by the front of his shirt, and just catches a glimpse of the space of it before Freddie has him pressed up against a wall.

He groans as their mouths meet once more, frantic and hungry; yearning for even more physical closeness, as though they could fuse together through their lips alone. Marius drinks in the sight of Freddie with eager eyes, no longer restrained by the dimly light atmosphere of the Halloween party or any sort of nerves. His mind whirls as he grasps at Freddie with desperate hands, shivering as Freddie exposes the skin beneath his shirt.

And then Freddie has his wrists pinned to the wall.

Marius' head falls back, neck arching with an elongated breath of a moan at the feeling; he shudders. He moans again into Freddie's mouth, rolling his hips forward onto the leg between his thighs, craving the friction desperately.

He whimpers into the words Freddie presses against his lips, nearly rising onto his toes and hips arching forward as Freddie squeezes his wrists. He spills curses in French and English into his mouth before he manages enough focus for coherent speech.

"As many times as you want," he whispers back, voice raw from wanting as he tries to catch his breath. He watches Freddie through heavily-lidded eyes, savoring the sight of his kiss-swollen lips and the desire radiating from all over his body. He rolls his hips again, both for the friction and to encourage Freddie further, egg him on, as the saying goes.
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