pontmercyfriend | It's the bough we break to blow away. [Backdated to 4/2/16]

Entry tags:

It's the bough we break to blow away. [Backdated to 4/2/16]

In spite of their conversations wanting to plan a weekend getaway for themselves, Marius jumps at the chance to get out of the city with Rat following the Founder's Day celebrations. Marius calls Courfeyrac to arrange for the care of their cats and mice; they hail a taxi, winding up at a hotel in the countryside: a quaint, luxurious establishment with an artistically designed pool arranged to blend in with the forest around the hotel, a charming restaurant with a lilac theme, and a cellar where they craft their own beer.

Marius finds them a room with an obscenely-sized bed and a balcony overlooking both the pool and the nature beyond. The atmosphere proves even more alluring with the mixed fragrances of newly blossoming flowers, the scent of wisteria particularly strong.

This vacation is entirely indulgent; they make their way to their room without even stopping in the restaurant. They barely drop their bags on the floor before they're falling into bed together, clothes and limbs tangling together in knots as they give into their passion. They pause only once to order room service.

Eventually, Marius falls asleep, though he doesn't remember the exact moment he does so. The next time he opens his eyes, the sun is filtering through the window, casting the room in a golden light. He stretches, his naked body shifting against the sheets. Marius' eyes open more fully and he glances down at his chest, which tightens as his gaze saunters down the rest of his body.

"Merde!" He swears in a soft voice as he flails and falls off the bed, sheets partly still entwined around him.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Marius, Rat is realizing all at once, is bolder than he knows. As lovers, he has trusted Rat to take the lead and it's a gift–a responsibility–that he's tried to handle properly. In doing that, though, he's failed to notice the growth in Marius' confidence as a lover.

When they return to their bodies, they will have to do something about that...The thought of their past encounters, of future ones, makes Rat's skin flame again. It only intensifies when Marius bites and nibbles up his neck and he realizes that Marius' finger is in him. Only one, so gentle, and Rat squirms against it.

"I love you," he says again, utterly caught up, body aching with need and emotion.

Marius doesn't realize the extent of his own boldness; he pours all of himself into every kiss and touch he bestows upon Rat, allows for love and passion to guide him. He doesn't pause to consider his initial shyness at intimacy like this. As a lover, he wears his wanting as openly as his own feelings on his sleeves. Or lack thereof, technically speaking, at the moment.

He has blossomed because of Rat; it feels it in every way that he aches now, and every way that he searches to feed the ache he feels trembling throughout his lover's flushed skin.

He moves his finger gently yet steady, somewhat in off-kilter time to the kisses and bites he presses to Rat's neck. Those words, uttered so breathlessly, whip the world into a frenzy of sheets and windows and food left to cool. Marius leans down to press their foreheads together; to press their chests together, as he continues working Rat with his finger.

"I love you too," he more gasps than actually speaks. But he smiles down at his lover, and his eyes shine in what must be the midmorning or early afternoon light.

"More," he says, tries to say. What comes out is a high, suppressed whine. His hands are fisted in the sheets, his body too warm, to responsive, and Marius so perfect above him. Marius, whom he loves, he needs, he adores. He wishes suddenly that he spoke French, could tell Marius in his own language all he feels and needs.

One hand leaves the sheets and tangles in Marius' hair, drags him closer for a kiss, hungry and messy. All he wants, all he needs, has shrunk down to this little world they've built, their own Cythera.

Marius nods as Rat pleads for more, savoring that whine as it washes right over him. He smiles, eyes shining down at Rat, as he kisses him deeply; lovingly. He pours everything he feels into that kiss; every gasp and hitch of breath further emphasizing the pure depths of his love and adoration. He moves one hand to caress Rat's beautiful face.

He inserts another finger of his other hand, twisting and pressing for all of the spots within Rat to bring him pleasure. He moans, shudders a bit, at the hand tangling in his hair; he leans in closer and shifts a bit so that the friction between their bodies can stave off some of his own wanting.

He pulls back momentarily for a gulp of air; he returns to Rat's inviting lips and starts sucking on his tongue, moving his fingers both with care and passionate determination.

This private paradise of theirs is all the world they need.

It's Marius' reactions as much as physical touches that flare through him, make Rat ache and twist beneath him. Already, he can feel the beginnings of the pulse, of an orgasm not yet tipped over the edge. He's desperate, completely out of control, and he deeply loves every moment of it. Loves Marius.

More. Closer. He can sense the hints of Marius' own need and he's helpless, too foggy with his own sensation to do more than grope towards Marius.

He moves his free hand down Rat's face to scatter lingering touches all across his body; he traces patterns and then embeds them in his skin. He soon follows with his mouth, tongue following the trail of his fingers. All the while he gasps and groans, his own desires and needs kindling with each of Rat's reactions. His stomach knots with how much he wants and needs and loves.

He keeps his fingers inside of Rat moving at a steady, rhythmic pace. Like a dance. He twists and turns and reaches for each spot that shoots sparks through his lover, needing and wanting to watch him come undone as his own body aches.

Marius kisses his way back up Rat's body, shivering at the way he gropes towards him, moaning.

Through bitten lips, Rat exhales, opens his eyes. Even in this form, he knows Marius. He knows those freckles, that quizzical expression, and how much every inch of him means to him. This is someone who, improbably, has come to love him and Rat responds with more than his body. He whines Marius' name, twists against him.

Orgasm warns at him, tipping over into a tight pulse, his body arching up to Marius and fucks himself shamelessly on his hand. He's aware of the high pitch in his voice, the intensity of sound.

"Shit," he says. 'Marius. Fuck..." He needs to kiss him, needs to touch him.

Pressed close as he is to Rat, Marius feels the way he exhales through those bitten lips; he inhales in turn, shivering at the sight and the sensation. He knows those eyes as they open and the way Rat drinks him in with his eyes in turn; he knows each inch of skin and the way each inch warms him, pressed against his own. Even in these new bodies, Marius knows Rat and loves him entirely. His own eyes flutter at the way Rat whines and twists against him; Marius groans at the sound of his name, moves his spare hand to the sheets to twist and grasp desperately, in response to the way Rat looks and feels.

"God, fuck, Rat," he responds in kind, gasping for breath at the friction between their bodies. He crashes their lips together as Rat comes undone, each pulse echoing into his own body. He moans louder as he moves his fingers to try and keep up with the way Rat fucks himself on them, twisting and turning and stroking him through his orgasm. His eyes flare from the sight of Rat arching up beneath him.

He focuses entirely on emphasizing Rat's pleasure, trying to ignore his own need, simmering like embers blossoming into a fire, stoked by the way Rat whines his name. Rat is so hot and tight and wet around him; he keeps kissing him to keep his own wanting at bay.

"I love you," he tells him again voice ragged and nearly breathless from the way his chest heaves, moving his hand in time with however long Rat needs to come down from his orgasm. He noses at him, nuzzling his face and kissing him deeply again. "I love you so much."

The whole world is Marius. Marius' mouth on his, his fingers thrust deep into Rat, their legs tangled together. Rat is struck by how much he wants Marius, how fresh that desire always is.

As quickly and intensely as he comes, Rat's euphoria tips over into oversensitivity and he shivers, gently touching Marius' wrist to tell him enough. As the world stills, Rat becomes terribly aware of the haze in Marius' eyes, the way his legs press together.

Tired, panting from the exertion, Rat doesn't care. He sees Marius like this and he knows.

"Come here," he says, urging Marius to move up along the bed, to straddle Rat's face.

Marius halts his hand and eases it from within Rat as Rat touches his wrist, understanding without words that his lover is asking him to stop. He continues to watch Rat beneath him, the world shrunk just to him as their legs tangle, and their lips. His breath catches as he realizes the full extent of his desire for Rat; how he always wants him, as though each time together is both their first and their last.

Little shivers run through him at the way Rat looks at him, panting and understanding; a hiss falls from between his lips as his stomach tightens and heat pulses between his legs.

Marius' thighs press together more insistently; his eyes widen when he realizes what Rat means for him to do.

"Rat," he manages in a strangled voice, anticipatory whimpers escaping from his mouth as he moves to straddle Rat's face.

"I've got you," he says, pressing a kiss to the inside of Marius' thigh, trailing them slowly along. Some are soft and gentle and some are biting, certain to leave a lasting bruise on Marius' tender skin. As he comes to the meeting of Marius' legs, Rat kisses that skin too, flicks his tongue out, but it's only a tease before he moves to mark up Marius' opposite thigh.

He can hear Marius above him, can flick his eyes up and get a glance at his face, even obscured by his body from beneath. He can smell Marius, wet and needy, skin flushed. He can feel, touch, and most importantly taste Marius.

When he's certain Marius can't take it any more, he uses his fingers to gently open the folds and hold them there so that he can draw a broad, flat stroke of his tongue up to his clit.

That first kiss pressed to the inside of his thigh shivers through Marius; he leans in towards Rat's mouth as he continues trailing kisses on his skin, hands grasping in the very-tangled sheets to keep himself steady. He tugs at the sheets, body curving in response to the varying natures of the kisses. Whimpers and breathless curses in both English and French fall from his lips; his eyes widen and glaze over as he watches Rat underneath him. He shudders violently and nearly shouts at that teasing flicker of a tongue.

Marius is gulping down air; his newly-lengthened hair sticks to his face, and he can feel the sharp contrast of the air-conditioned hotel room and the heat from Rat's mouth like needles pricking his skin.

"Please - oh, oh!" He barely gets the plea out of his mouth before Rat has his tongue where Marius' need wants it most. He moans, loud and long; his head falls back as his body arches sharply and he gasps out Rat's name, like a wanton prayer.

He feels hyper-aware, comparing his memory of Marius' skin to how he feels now, his scent. Rat could write poetry to this moment, to everything from before and after and what will come later too.

He uses the tip of his tongue on Marius' clit, teasing with different motions as he shifts his hand so that he can start to finger Marius, moving with the jerks of his body.

Marius feels as though he might never catch his breath from the way pleasure shoots through his body, sharp and heady like overbright starlight seeping directly under his skin. The sheer intensity with which he wants Rat and the sheer intensity of the way Rat watches him, teases him; sucks at him, renders him incapable of coherency and any sense of poise or inhibition. The way Rat feels pressed against him like this makes him want burst out into song.

Marius jolts again at the presence of Rat's fingers in addition to his tongue, focused on that especially sensitive spot inside of him that sends a sweetness through him like molten chocolate. His head tips back; his neck arches from the building tension. His hips move towards those sensations, almost in a dance of their own, seeking more pressure and more heat, as his legs squirm and shift against Rat's face; his fingers turn white, clenched as they are in the sheets.

"Rat," he manages in between gasps and whines and moans, both a plea and a warning. His whole body runs taut, from his chest to the pulsing ache between his legs; the shivers running through him increase. On the verge of his own undoing, Marius feels dizzy and wild and wonderful.

Rat hums against Marius, all accommodating pleasure. Marius' fervor is delightful and Rat is pleased with himself too. It's one thing to have sexual experience but it's something else to be able to give it to someone. They'd been so scared of each other once and Marius had been uncertain of his sexuality and now Marius is grinding down against his face, clenching around his fingers and all Rat can do is keep going. He tilts his head back and breathes through his nose, opening his eyes so he can see Marius' face like this.

It's no surprise that he looks positively obscene, mouth falling open. His hair, still damp, sticks to him and falls around his face in equal measure, turning him into some strange and perfect goddess.

God damn him, he's happy.

Marius feels that humming all the way down to his bones; he groans louder as his fingers curl tighter tangled where they are in the sheets. He feels so warm, and his skin gleams with sweat, as though he's come down with a fever. Each movement of Rat's tongue and fingers nearly takes Marius out of his own skin.

He can hardly believe that only a little over a year before, the pair of them had danced around each other, curious and wanting and lonely. Each nursing their own aches and pains. Marius had been uncertain, once; Rat, seemingly closed off from loving again. Yet here they are, their own kind of miracle.

It's this thought, along with Rat's immaculate ministrations and attention, that all but shoves Marius over the edge; his eyes flash open, and he meets Rat's gaze looking up at him. He keens; his body jerks gracelessly as orgasm rushes through him. He whimpers and pants around attempts at Rat's name, falling forward from the weight of such heady pleasure.

He feels as though he might float away in happiness.

He doesn't stop, not until Marius gives him some signal, but Rat does slow down. Already, he's aware of how pleasure can crest over into over-sensitive pressure and he wants to bring Marius down gently. Still working his fingers, he withdraws his tongue and kisses that soft, sweet skin, working down the tempo of his touch bit by bit.

"I love you," he says, lips whispering against Marius' thigh.

Marius' chest heaves, in and out, in and out, as he gasps, trying to catch his breath in the wake of his pleasure. Small noises continue to escape his mouth, even as Rat slows down his touch; he leans into those sweet kisses, savoring them. He smiles down at him, his own hips slowing in time with Rat's touch. A moment later, he nods, moving a hand to let Rat know to stop.

"I love you too," Marius replies, voice raw. He brings his other hand to run through Rat's short hair, eyes and mouth both stretched wide with delighted happiness.

Rat sighs out and licks his lips before he drops his head back into the pillow. He's still careful, favoring Marius with gentle touches, soothing him into lying down next to him.

"I think we should be proud of ourselves for being so adaptive," Rat jokes.

Marius watches Rat lick his lips with wide eyes as he falls back beside him in the bed, moving close to tangle their legs together and wrap his arms around him.

Marius laughs, grinning ridiculously. "We should get gold medals, or something," he agrees, leaning in to nuzzle at Rat's face.

"Copper," Rat suggests, picking up an errant lock of red hair and admiring it like a precious gem. "Copper and onyx, maybe." In his mind, he's constructing a necklace for this version of Marius to wear. Or maybe a ring for when they're restored to their natural selves.

All in good time.

"That would be gorgeous," Marius muses, tracing several fingers along the edge of Rat's face, glancing at the short, dark locks framing it. He watches Rat admiring his hair with quite possibly the sappiest smile to ever adorn his face. "They should hire you as a design consultant, or something." Briefly, an image of copper and onyx flashes in his mind, bound in the shape of a ring; his heart lurches, thrilled with all such an image implies.

"And we would wear those medals fabulously," he adds, wondering at Rat's own thoughts.

"Or maybe something subtler." Rat catches Marius' hand on his cheek and kisses the fingertips. Barely a few hours into the day and he already feels bone-tired and deeply satisfied. And to think, they have all night left to them.

"I could hold you for hours," he admits, kissing Marius' ring finger.

"Subtle works too," Marius nearly whispers, smiling wider and letting out tiny gasps of delight to each kiss to his fingertips. He giggles, leaning in to kiss Rat's nose as his body relaxes fully. He feels tired down to his soul and content all at once; a rather marvelous combination of sensations, especially when he considers how much more time together they have this weekend.

He watches as Rat presses a kiss to his ring finger and he flushes. "I could, too," he says, leaning in for a gentle and slow kiss to Rat's lips.

"Better start the count, then," Rat says. He laughs and wraps an arm around Marius, nuzzling into his shoulder and enjoying the soft skin that's at once familiar and so new. "Hour...one."

It's the bough we break to blow away. [Backdated to 4/2/16]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)