hold me close

[waitingforsin]

The Body Heat Meme



Post with your character! They're now stuck in a very cold place of your choice. It can be anything, such as a freezing chamber, a cavern or a small cabin in the midst of a blizzard. The choice is up to you.
Comment around! Now your character has some company in this bone-chilling environment. The two of them share two things in common: clothes completely unfitting for this weather (be they summer clothes or even lingerie) and a blanket.
A blanket? Yes, just one warm blanket and no other ways to escape the cold. The two of them will have to share it in order to stay alive in this weather. Don't worry, you're sure to find a common language in this terrible situation!
So, uh, have fun, I suppose. Try to not freeze to death!
Protip: friction and body heat are both excellent ways to fend off cold.

Comments

what do i have to do wow.

[desequilibre]

[ 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. ]

[mousquetaire]

[ 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.

[desequilibre]

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. ]

[mousquetaire]

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. ]

[desequilibre]

[ 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. ]

[mousquetaire]

[ 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.

[desequilibre]

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.

[mousquetaire]

[ 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. ]

[desequilibre]

[ 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.

[mousquetaire]

So many more.

[ In answer to that, he kisses the corner of Athos' mouth, the one that turned up. Then he kisses his cheek, then his neck, then down onto his chest. It's almost exploratory, these kisses. As though he'd like to put his lips on every part.

Every part. ]

But I'm not insatiable. You satisfied me very completely. [ He glances up, his answering smile playful and sweet. ] Just so that you know.

[desequilibre]

It doesn't mean I couldn't do it again.

[ There's a roughness to his voice, the sharp edges of lust that creep in and spread across his deep affection. Mischief moves his palm to slide from his arm to the base of his spine. ]

I'm a firm believer of stamina, you know that.

[mousquetaire]

[ His breath hitches, sharp and sudden and eager. Athos' touch makes his body respond now. There's no more surprise, no more uncertainty. This feels good. ]

Well then. In the name of stamina...

[ His eyes are bright with longing, and his hand creeps lower. He catches Athos' lower lip between his teeth, before kissing him firmly and deepening it with the taste of his tongue. Always more kisses. He could absolutely deliver on that. ]