bakerstreet | hold me close

[ He should have known d'Artagnan would have no patience for this when he has little of it anywhere else. It startles a low laugh out of Athos, the sound turning into a gasp when teeth pull at his lip. He's usually so silent and that's twice this day that laughter has been teased from him, and countless other noises too. It makes his head spin even as steady hands cup his friend's neck and then travel down over his chest. ]

Now when they find our frozen bodies it really will be a bawdy tale. [ Fingers slide delicately over soft skin at his side before Athos leans in to press a kiss to his lips, then his jaw, his throat, his shoulder. When he looks up the night is reflected in blue eyes and a softer smile is spread across his mouth. ] I suppose we shall have to make it worth their while.

[ His palms run again, lightly to curve of his ribs, his knee pressed hard against d'Artagnan's as though space has offended him by getting between them. His lips find their own path, dancing across his collarbone with a confidence he hadn't known was in him. Once bitten, and he'd been ready enough to renounce affection entirely but d'Artagnan --?

He catches at it, Athos finds it hard to deny him anything the other man deserves. ]

[ It’s like a game they’re playing, back and forth. D’Artagnan has been drawing Athos into it with him, and now their movements seem easy. They seem unified. Far from flinching at his bared skin, Athos is leaning into it, kissing at him, even exploring him.

The feeling of those hands on his ribs, on his chest and stomach, sends a shiver through his body. It has nothing to do with the cold, not now. It’s a shiver that comes from desire, and he knows it, because it’s so familiar and the last time he felt it he’d been in far more feminine arms.

That jolts him. Because he had thought, after losing Constance, that he wouldn’t feel this again – at least not for a good long while. He hadn’t felt even a shadow of that need for Milady, not even in a physical sense. But now it’s different. Now it’s strong, and it’s both physical and something more. Something deeper, because Athos is his best friend in the world, and there’s a yearning there. A desire to make his friend happy, because that’s what he deserves.

Maybe they both do. And maybe, happiness isn’t as far away as he’d thought.

He moves instinctively, his knee sliding over to rest gently between Athos’ legs. His hands skirt up along his waist, along his chest, and his kisses turn slow and deep. His tongue flicks into his mouth, testing and teasing. ]

It’ll be a true tale. [ Those words are murmured, said against Athos’ lips when he separates their mouths to draw breath. ] Only, tell me if you want to stop. Because I don’t, and I don’t think I’ll want to at all.

[ His dark eyes flicker with something honest, and he doesn’t keep his yearning out of them. Instead he tilts his head, attaching his kisses to Athos’ neck again instead. His back arches, and he’s aware of leaning mostly over his friend now. Almost on top, save for a few spare inches where he’s taking his weight on his own hip. But his hands move over Athos, and his body presses in and he knows with more certainty than he’d said that he doesn’t want to stop. He will, if Athos wants it. But only then. ]

[ The world tilts on his axis with d'Artagnan above him. It feels new and terrifying and full of promise and it would be so easy for him to say no, to retreat, to hide away behind his carefully constructed walls. He would be safe there and they could go back to their lives like they'd been just this morning. But then he would not know how d'Artagnan's skin tastes when flushed, he would not know the sound he makes when Athos touches him where he wants and that not knowing yawns in front of him like a black expanse.

He could say no, but he doesn't want to. So instead he simply lifts a hand, curls it around the nape of his neck and leans up until they are scant inches from each other, until he can see the light of the night's sky reflected in his friend's eyes and witness the swollen marks of his mouth that Athos has left with his teeth.

He wants to be undone with this. ]

I don't want you to stop. Whatever it is you're asking of me, I want to give it.

[ ooc: Time-skipped by...however long it takes them to finish. ]

IC:

[ Afterwards, they're a tangle of limbs, buried beneath a pile of discarded clothes. The blanket is somewhere, too, but most of d'Artagnan's warmth is coming from the fact that he's lying against Athos. He's tired, but in a satisfied way; like his limbs have all been stretched out, and his muscles are starting to recover.

His arm is around Athos' waist, his hand resting gently on his chest. Every now and again it moves, smoothing at his skin and his hair. He doesn't speak for a little while, but stays quiet and content.

And then, at length, he stirs a little, a sigh leaving his lips. ]

I wonder how it took so long for that to happen. I feel like I've been waiting for it, all this time.

[ He didn't think it was possible to feel like this again, so at ease. It is almost like all of the ills and the strains of the world have been worn away from his skin by d'Artagnan's clever, eager hands. He feels impossibly light, and were it not for the pleasant thrum of his body he thinks he might have let his mind float away entirely. As it is he's tethered to the man with his hand placed against his chest, Athos' own heartbeat still racing a little too fast, pulse beating at his throat.

When he replies his voice is sweet, soft in a way it doesn't tend to be, just the whisper of his usual roughness on the edge of his words. ] I doubt you'd have been able to wait, had it occurred to you before. [ Athos shifts, the wool of the blanket entangled around his feat. His fingers walk in steps across the other man's arm, mapping him out inch by inch. ] You're not the most patient of us all.

[ Perhaps he should be concerned. Maybe he should worry and fret and put himself together brick by brick. Instead he leans to press a kiss to d'Artagnan's temple. ] Thank you.

[ This is as comfortable as if they lay like this regularly, and they never have before. D'Artagnan leans into Athos, his hands making gentle, soothing movements against his skin, and then when he's called impatient he softly laughs. Raising his head, he shrugs, and smiles up at Athos. ]

Stop thinking with my heart, yes? So you keep saying. Though I think it steered me well this time.

[ He's about to settle again, but then that softest of kisses happens at his temple. He stills, surprised both by how soft it is, and by how intimate it is.

He looks up into clear blue eyes, that will never seem the same to him now. He looks up and moves his hand to lay it against Athos' cheek. His thumb stokes the cheekbone. ]

Thanks for what? With how you made me feel, I should be thanking you.

[ So he does, by leaning in to press the softest, lightest of kisses to Athos' lips. ]

[ His first statement is met with a hum, lazy and indulgent much like the way Athos presses into the hand against his cheek. The starving edge to his need as been met, the drought ended but he still finds himself craving more. ]

It's been a long time since I even entertained the idea of allowing someone to get so close. [ Ninon had almost won out, but he'd had a duty and then Anne had appeared from the dark once more. It would never have worked. Not with her noose around his neck. But how fitting then that it come from the clever smirk of a man who's path had been set by the very woman who'd aimed to end Athos' own? He has her to thank for that at least.

The rain has stopped by now and Athos finds himself gazing at the stars through the canopy as he speaks. ] Thank you for showing me that I could be like that again. [ So many doors had shut, he'd slammed most of them himself. But he keeps finding himself surprised. ] I had thought it lost.

[ The log they'd once been sitting on is pillowed beneath their heads now. The ground, in its place, is soft, and d'Artagnan has long passed caring about anything like mud, or rainwater, or grass stains. With the weather they've had, there won't be any shortage of streams or small rivers nearby where they can get cleaned up.

But that's for later. For now he doesn't care, he doesn't want to move from here. He doesn't want to move from these arms, and get out of the sight of these eyes.

In part it's because he's found a happiness here, one that he didn't remotely expect. In part it's because he's afraid that will fracture as soon as it's over.

He tries not to think about that. How many times had the glass shattered with Constance? He doesn't want this to be the same.

But then Athos speaks, and his thoughts leave that unhappiness behind. He thinks of all that Athos has been through, all that he'd lost. All that he'd let go. And he leans up, his dark eyes full of concern and affection, and his hand moves gently into his friend's hair. ]

Thank you for letting me. I never thought that side of you lost, Athos. I knew you'd been hurt. But never lost. Not you.

[ His hand smooths back his friend's hair. ]

I like being this close.

I do too.

[ It's a soft, secretive form of admittance. Athos doesn't know whether he should voice it out loud to see it lost. But d'Artagnan isn't Anne, he isn't waiting for the vulnerability to creep in to his voice only to slit him from navel to throat. ]

I didn't think I would. [ He leans his cheek on his bicep to look at his friend, still trailing light touches up and down his arm. ] But you've managed to coax it out of me. [ Mouth twitching. ] Were I religious, I'd begin to worry. I might have been bewitched.

[ D'Artagnan looks up, a smile ticking at his lips. Reaching up, he traces his thumb over Athos' lower lips, following his twitch. Wanting to turn it into a smile. ]

So now I'm bewitching? I thought I was impossible.

[ Shaking his head, he leans in, pillowing his head against the soft part of Athos' shoulder, where it meets his chest. ]

It's just me, Athos. Maybe that's why it's easy. I know you already. This was just one step further.

[ A step he never imagined, but that's hardly the point. ]

You are many things. [ His arm settles around him, shielding him, holding him. He doesn't mind the closeness or the way d'Artagnan's skin is warm against his own or his breath is light and teasing when he exhales. He doesn't pull away nor does he have the desire to. There is nothing inside of him that pricks at any part of this. ]

There are parts of you I haven't even discovered yet, d'Artagnan. Anyone who thinks they could understand you is a fool. [ He shifts to bury his face in the other man's hair, his own breathing easy and slow. ]

I'd like to discover all the bits I do not know. If you'll allow it.

[ D'Artagnan offers up a little hum of approval, feeling Athos pressing into his hair. That is pleasant in all sorts of ways, as is the arm around him. He curls into it, his arm moving around to rest over Athos' waist. ]

Allow it?

[ He looks up, his expression bemused. There's a smile curling at the corners of his mouths. ]

I want you to. After tonight how could I not? How could I not want more of this?

[ Leaning his head down, he lets his fingers play over his friend's waist. ]

I was afraid it would frighten you off. That it wouldn't be the same, once we had done.

There aren't many things that could terrify me. [ He hums, lets the exhale break from him naturally. Objectively he knows that they should probably try to make a move now the rain is easing, but he doesn't quite want to leave the protection of the space they've carved. ]

You're not one of them. [ His tone is playful, the same as it is every time Athos and d'Artagnan spar. ] You wish to keep this? [ D'Artagnan had said he was not one to be casual, of course, but in the rush of their blood they hadn't quite set the parameters. His pulse jumps and then more gently, as though to waylay any immediate fear on his counterpart's behalf. ]

I'd like to.

[ He could have been casual, maybe. He'd been casual with Milady, that first time, when he'd thought of her as no more than a distraction.

Of course, that encounter had ended with her framing him for murder. Perhaps it would have gone further if she hadn't lacked for sanity.

With Athos, though, he could never be casual. It's like it was with Constance; it's not a casual relationship. Athos is already his friend, not someone to be cast aside. Then there's the fact that he likes this, likes being held, likes...everything that they'd done together tonight.

Tilting his head up, he presses his lips to the pulse in his friend's neck, and then kisses him fully. ]

Yes, I wish to keep this. [ The words are lightly murmured, when their lips separate. ] If you'll let me. I know it's complicated.

But it's possible. We don't even have to tell anyone, if that's easier.

It might be best not to. [ He doesn't doubt Porthos or Aramis, doesn't think they would think little of them were they to admit it. But there are other factors to be considered. ] By telling them to truth we put them at risk. [ The people of Paris have their tastes, some far more obscure and alarming than wanting to take comfort in the arms of another man. But they are allowed simply because it's not spoken of. Athos has met a great many people covering up secrets worse than this, he doesn't wish to be the one to ignite the flame. ]

It's new. [ His lips ghost across d'Artagnan's temple, his voice is soft but firm, hand cupping the other man's shoulder to ground the both of them. ] We should wait. [ A pause as he considers his words. ] I'm not ashamed of this. I'm not ashamed of what we just did. I just want to be cautious. I don't want to lose it or you. [ He'd given himself entirely to someone once before. Rushed in on the heady thrum of love. It had left scars that still hurt him now. And while d'Artagnan is not Anne, Athos is still himself. ]

Is that all right?

[ Will he ever engage in any relationship that doesn't need to be kept a secret?

That had been hard for him before. He knows it. He hadn't liked pretending in public that he didn't love Constance. He'd wanted to shout it to the rooftops, wanted to be able to kiss her in public, or even just pull her into his arms.

He has to be more restrained than that now. But with Athos it's different. There's no other person keeping them apart. Technically Athos is still wed, but he may as well not be. And d'Artagnan can't be anything to Constance anymore. Both of their pasts have to stay in the past. They can be together.

If they're quiet, and careful. Can he do that, if it means the rest?

He leans into that hand, and lifts himself up a little so that brown eyes can study blue. His fingers come up to graze against Athos' beard, to trace the line of his jaw. ]

You won't lose me. Of course it's all right. I want this. If we're the only ones who can know, we're the only ones who will know.

I'm not ashamed, either. I won't let anyone tell me I should be.

[ Athos pushes up to kiss him then, catching his lips with his own, tasting the sweetness of the moment on his tongue. It's languid and slow as if he's trying to map out the inside of him as he traces the shape of his lips. ]

Thank you. [ There's wonder in his voice. And a warmth there to. He wants more of this and Athos has let himself want very little for so long. ]

[ D'Artagnan turns into him, head raising and tilting up into that kiss. He's entirely receptive, his body curving into it with feline readiness. His hand grazes over Athos' shoulder, and he makes a soft little sound as their lips separate. ]

Don't thank me. It's like I'm giving you something, and you've no idea how much I want it.

But you are. [ D'Artagnan is giving him so much by the simple press of his lips. A reason that he hasn't had in so long. Even with his new freedom he's still shackled by an invisible chain and the boy curled into his side has begun chipping that away.

D'Artagnan doesn't know just how easy breathing comes with him by Athos' side. ]

Athos.

[ He says that name softly, with so much care, like it's a whispered love letter. He brings his hand up, tracing his fingers across the arch of his cheekbone, and moving them into his hair. He strokes it back, his touch tender. ]

I want to give you everything. I will.

[ A smile dimples his cheeks, and he leans down to tuck his head against Athos' shoulder. He kisses his neck again, so softly. No matter how relaxed he feels, his affectionate spirit is going nowhere. ]

[ He feels something in his chest respond, like the last cover of dust has been swept free of his heart. D'Artagnan breathes life into the husk of his body without knowing it and for a moment Athos simply lets it wash over him like a cool breeze. He stares at the rustling tree canopy above his head and traces invisible patterns against olive skin.

It's too soon to say exactly where he wants it to go, but it's the first time he's been willing to take a journey where the outcome isn't certain. He trusts his friend wholeheartedly. ]

We shouldn't sleep here. [ But his voice is soft and sweet and edged with dreams either way. ] Next time a roof and somewhere that isn't grass. [ There will be a next time.

... Well, if his issues don't creep back in. ]

[ D'Artagnan laughs at that, a soft and open sound that's muffled because his mouth is still pressed against Athos' skin. Amused, he lifts his head. He's barely aware of where they're lying, concentrating as he is on the sight of the face in front of him. ]

Yes. Definitely a roof, and if we're lucky perhaps a bed.

[ He sighs. This feels like a dream, too good to be real. Unbidden, he remembers Constance's words as she'd ended things with them for good. 'It was a beautiful dream, d'Artagnan'. He doesn't want this to be another dream.

He'll do everything he can to keep it real. To keep this warmth between them.

And speaking of that. ]

Do you want to move? Because you'll have to convince me. Your arms make a comfortable resting place.

They're only comfortable for so long. [ He sounds amused though. Athos isn't in any rush to move himself, or to pull his arms away. He feels like they have fallen upon something strange and beautiful, like they've been bewitched by this fairy circle of a forest.

But he can never quite shut up the logical part of him. ] Only, you'll feel it if we fall asleep and wake up to the cold of morning out here.

[ Well that's clearly not convincing enough. D'Artagnan is too much enjoying the feeling of those fingers tracing patterns on his back, and the warmth of the arms cradling him. Undeterred, he leans forward. ]

There's a simple solution, then. We shouldn't fall asleep.

[ Nuzzling in, he kisses Athos again. The hand that had been petting his hand moves down, over his neck, so that it can slide down his chest to his waist. There are alternatives to sleeping, you know. ]

[ His laughter is like the pop of a cork from a bottle, sudden and fast. ]

Insatiable. [ His free hand moves to d'Artagnan's chest, fingertips splayed lightly against his skin. ] I'm sure I should feel surprised. [ But he's not. In everything d'Artagnan proves himself to be all or nothing. It warms his skin once more, a flush that's barely visible in the dark of the woods. ]

Another kiss then. [ Mouth turning up at the corner. ] We should at least continue with that.

Edited (i should read better) 2014-06-08 01:07 (UTC)

hold me close

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TIME GAP

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/does this tag first to make amends

wow ur not forgiven

what do i have to do wow.

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