for auld lang syne

[toastysocks]

That's right, it's time for that kiss at midnight! Whether you're compelled to give it by some unseen force or you just really want to kiss the person next to you, now is the time to go for it! Maybe some other kind of fireworks will fly tonight, who knows.

Comments

[doctor_terror]

[Jonathan tilts his head back so Sion has better access to his neck. A content sigh escapes him as those soft lips go to his sensitive throat.]

How inconsiderate of me.

[Sion isn't wrong about Jonathan being arrogant. He considers himself the Master of Fear, which comes with a certain amount of arrogance. His title is earned, sure, but he would be lying if he said he didn't revel in it. In the power he holds to terrify others.

When Sion pushes him back, he allows himself to relax. This bed is so soft and big, not like the beds he's used to sleeping in.]

No masks tonight.

[He accepts that dare, sitting up and wrapping his arms around Sion, flipping their positions so Sion is now laying down with Jonathan on top of him.]

[sunderings]

[ Ah. In the breadth of a moment, Sion finds himself upended, his challenge accepted in full. And with his back to the mattress beneath them both, the King finds the new vantage point to his liking—here, he may fully study the other man, his hands finding either side of Jonathan's hips, resting there. Truly, the man is a willowed thing: long and lean, his build perfect for casting a looming shadow to terrify those who would not understand. And as for the King...? He simply basks in the shade, fingers dropping to play upon the waist of Jonathan's trousers before following the cut of the man's pelvis in a slow, sweeping touch, his hand molding to the juncture of Jonathan's legs to palm him through the fabric. ]

Then, with no front between us, tell me what you enjoy.

[ And how Sion might see that desire satisfied. ]

[doctor_terror]

[Jonathan lets out a content little sigh as he feels Sion's hands on him, pulling his pants down so he may be fully bared before the powerful man beneath him.]

I enjoy being on top. I also enjoy making use of hands, or mouths.

[His hand mimes giving a hand job, as if it wasn't obvious what he meant. He hasn't really attempted to give anybody a blow job since he got scarred up. Of course, he hasn't had sex in a very long time, and Sion will be the first person he's been with since the scarring.

Blue eyes go down to Sion's lower garment, followed by his hands, wanting those out of the way so he may see his king in full.]

[sunderings]

Well— [ In this moment, Sion's voice is a low, sultry thing steeped well with desire. Pleasing to him, to hear the doctor's voice hitch in anticipation and mellow with a sigh. Seldom does the King share his bed with others (what's more, he is known to shirk match-meetings set for him by his retainers in the hope that he might take a wife, produce an heir), and when he does, he is neither the most vocal nor the most passionate. Always, the King is controlled, and perhaps it is a touch difficult for him to let go, even here, even now. ] —it must be to your good fortune that you've secured one of those things already.

[ With the second to be found in short suit, after Jonathan has done away with Sion's under-robes and broadcloth trousers which lay beneath. Hips that had once lifted in simple acquiescence—a gesture to aid Jonathan in the man's quest to see Sion disrobed in full—now arch forward, seeking out more of Jonathan's touch as Sion effortlessly loops an arm about the other man's neck, pulling him down for a kiss.

A kiss which sees a deliberately slow, if not teasing withdraw as Sion bids: ] Let me feel them, then. Your hands.

[ Surely they can do more than gesture. ]

[doctor_terror]

[Jonathan has never had a kiss like this before. Previous kisses had been shy lip presses in dark hallways, or hard kisses built on lust alone. This kiss is one of desire, yes, but it's drawn out and gentle. A more meaningful kiss.

Now that he's free of his garments, Jonathan gazes at his body. One of his hands runs down Sion's chest, down to his stomach and then his thigh.]

Your skin is so soft. So smooth.

[As requested, Jonathan's hand makes its way to Sion's length, wrapping his fingers around it. He starts off slow, stroking it in long, gentle motions. Jonathan wants to see Sion hardening under his touch.

Sion could have anybody he wishes. Yet he's taken a man like Jonathan Crane to bed, and allowed a man like him to touch him.]

[sunderings]

If it is so, it is because you have protected me well.

[ Because of Jonathan, whose dark and terrible innovations shielded the King from sustaining grievous injury upon the battlefield, a place where Sion is unafraid to tread. Even before meeting the other man, Sion had never expected others to follow if he could not first take the reigns to lead—if he were to wage war (and how he had), he would be the one to stand upon the precipice of it, staring into its blood-stained abyss.

But dauntless as Sion is, he is not invulnerable, and without the doctor's craft of toxins, who is to say what harm might have come to him, if not otherwise deterred? ]

In one way— [ Closing his eyes, he rocks into the palm of Jonathan's hand, his length thickening with arousal and with need which could only be sated by the man above him. Pleasure makes his body hot, his breath stilted when he speaks: ] —or another, are you not always by my side?

[ More so than any other. Who among his court, after all, has Sion ever allowed so very close?

His fingertips trace artful, intricate patterns along the back of Jonathan's neck and shoulders, trailing up and down in feather-light sequences which commit the lines of the other man's body to memory.

(Perhaps some part of him had always wanted to know Jonathan like this.) ]

If you were more selfish, perhaps you could even say that you've some claim over this body of mine.

[ Over the way Sion's length swells to full hardness beneath the gentle touch of Jonathan's hand, the back-and-forth of the man's fingers eased by the moisture which beads pearlescent at its tip. And, for the very first time, a moan tumbles from the King's lips, made dark and deep by desire. ]

[doctor_terror]

Of course. Why would I not wish to protect the man who gave me so much?

[Armies cowered before Sion thanks to Jonathan's experiments and fear-based weaponry. He saved the most potent weapons for keeping his king safe on the battlefield.]

Forever, by your side.

[It's his hand making Sion so aroused. Him, and nobody else. The hand speeds up just a little, just enough to further arouse the other man but not enough to cause discomfort. Causing any chafing would be impolite and possibly hinder further lovemaking.

He closes his eyes for a moment, a sigh escaping his lips as he feels those fingers on the back of his neck. Sion has such lovely fingers. Then he hears that moan. It's another sign that Jonathan is pleasing him, and it's music to his ears.]