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008 » maybe i'm in need of an angel
fanart by 8koenji.bsky.social.
for louis at luciferi.
fanart by 8koenji.bsky.social.
for louis at luciferi.
fanart by 8koenji.bsky.social.
for louis at luciferi.
fanart by 8koenji.bsky.social.
for louis at luciferi.
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Humorously, the young king seems to have reached a level of embarrassment so high that he's finally become calm. Still flustered, his heart racing in his chest, Will presses his fingers against the back of Louis's tingling neck and murmurs: ]
Every kiss makes me crave your mouth... Every touch makes me want your hands...
[ Truly, isn't this the pleasure of being king? The right to indulge in one's most fervent desires, with the most beautiful man in the kingdom, whilst ensconced in the lap of luxury... Will is a good man, a nearly incorruptible man, but even he has his appetites. How could he possibly resist this?
He, too, lowers his voice until it drips with his need, soft and breathy and promising. Wiggly. ]
Sometimes, I even stroke myself thinking of your cock...
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as if he's trying tease out even more, he leans between them to press a kiss just below Will's ear, light and warm and breathy. it's a reminder of what his mouth feels like, just in case Will had somehow forgotten. ]
Not a very appropriate thing to say about your recruit, Captain.
[ there's a quiet, low tease in his voice that says he approves, even at the playful chiding. ]
What's a soldier like me to do when presented with such sordid thoughts? Surely, thoughts of my hands and mouth may be exaggerated, and perhaps I need some guidance on what to do with both of them.
[ the hand holding Will up slides over the curve of his hip, holding his rear. his fingers pinch lightly, as if he were testing a ripe fruit, to keep Will from getting too dazed here in the courtyard.
he wonders when his king will burst and drag him elsewhere to strip him of his uniform, or if he will purely do so here and all of those around them will have to scuttle to find somewhere to hide their gaze. ]
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Desire overtakes the "recruit's" dirty captain. Emboldened — Louis never pinches his butt! — Will hitches his legs more firmly around Louis's waist, heedless of the fact that they can be seen by the guardsmen and cleaning staff from the floors above, and demands hotly into his ear: ]
...Take me to the swing in the garden.
[ A fine place to have a tryst, to be sure. The young king completed a remodel of the garden upon his ascension to the throne, in part to remove the ancient dragon statues which once harvested the anxiety and magla of the people for the Royal Scepter's ends. Now it resembles the eldan forest more, complete with those flowers which are now considered a symbol of the royal family and which no one even thought twice about questioning. Ensconced by some wild and untamed hedges (which Will has instructed to be largely allowed to maintain their wild and untamed shape) is a magnificent tree with a swing affixed to its sturdiest branch; ostensibly, Will said, this was because he'd always wanted a swing set as a boy, and what does it matter now if he is a man grown? He can still enjoy something sweet.
In the company of his husband, no less.
Regardless, the wild shrubbery with its thick foliage overhead... these will make it harder to see them. Though sex in the garden is still not without some risks... but what are risks to the king and his consort?
Will can't help himself: he leans forward, nips gently at Louis's ear. Another nibble, and then a lick, lewd and loving, around the shell and lingering around the earlobe. Louis's ears are rarely exposed, being that they are typically covered by his thick golden waves of hair: it makes Will fixate on them, sometimes, when he can see them. (Ah, to have the king so enamored with you that he even adores your ears...) ]
Your captain will give you the orders you seek, and show you exactly what he wants...
[ Sure enough, he's dragging Louis elsewhere. Seems the fruit of this particular tree has grown ripe enough to eat. ]
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Will clings to him, legs around his middle, clenched around his body in a way that sends a little thrill up his spine that he did not expect. there's something about the way he squeezes, even as clad in armor as Louis is, he can still feel the pressure of Will's pretty thighs.
per request, the king gets carried through the gardens, there are a few shuffles that would suggest that if Louis were not playing a part, he would not be as obedient as he's being now. perhaps he'd twist Will's body in his arms, carry him like a princess and dip him low until they both were close to the ground, or something equally as defiant. however, right now, he holds Will single-handedly with an arm beneath his rear, allowing him to perch at just above his height (perhaps so he can witness the world from a taller stance).
not so much to his surprise, Will seems to enjoy it, finding his ear behind a curtain of hair, breathing him in deeply and whispering heatedly under his breathe. ]
My captain has ideas in his head related to a different type of battle. Very well – I am at your command, sir, take me as you like.
[ there's amusement there, and he can't hide it. especially not after carrying Will so far, standing beneath the foliage by the swing that his king is so fond of. ]
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Will still can't say that he's learned to read Louis with complete certainty, but he thinks he's grown a little more familiar with his husband in all the weeks and months they've been married. Louis rarely shows his true feelings until they've been coaxed out of him, and even now, someone who doesn't know him well might look at him and find him coldly distant — from a distance, he might resemble an unfeeling marble statue, going through the motions of pleasing the king. Will knows better, of course: he knows that his Louis is teasing, playful, slowly growing more aroused by the telltale hitch in his breath and the bright glimmer in his eyes. He's earned another kiss for his ear. He's being so, so sweet, and Will likes it when they have the indulgence of being sweet to one another. ]
Put me down on the swing.
[ It's not some simple wooden plank tied to a branch with coarse rope, of course, much as that may have suited the king's idyllic childhood. The swing made for the royal garden is a finely made thing, the height of which can easily be adjusted with a thought courtesy of the simple igniter in it — the sort that powers the elevators in the cathedral.
This isn't their first time using it for these particular purposes, though, so Will settles in quite perfectly at Louis's waist height, swaying a little coquettishly in the seat as he's set carefully down in it. Next time, perhaps, Louis can dip him low to the ground and tease him, but today, he's listening to his Captain, and his Captain has fresh orders for him. ]
Take off my coat and shirt.
[ He can't help but let his eyes rove approvingly over the way Louis has completely filled out the recruit's uniform; his gaze speaks of unbridled hunger. ]
You just look so good in that...
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however, he is honest if asked; he's never been anything but honest. ]
No matter how far in the ranks I elevated myself, a good soldier must always still look good in a recruit's wares.
[ it's said as if it were an old military saying, it isn't, of course, but Louis seems satisfied with the idea of it.
without a snatch of hesitation, he lowers onto a knee, deftly slipping the buttons of Will's jacket from the holes. while he's not outwardly defiant now – as he finds some amusement in following Will's orders – he finds certain ways to gently pry back his own means of control. right now, he takes his time. instead of pulling his clothing off ravenously, Louis cups the side of his chest with his hand, pressing his palm to where he knows Will must be feeling sensitive, allowing the jacket to slump and then fall open.
one button, two buttons, three buttons ...
he uses his hands to take the jacket off, slipping them into the folds and getting handfuls of Will as he tips him backward just slightly to let it fall to the ground, forgotten. it's the vest, then. after that, his shirt. it's a slow process, but one Louis seems quite intent on using his hands for, it makes it all the more satisfying when they drag against Will's skin beneath the black shirt.
it's there that he lingers, looking at his hands just under the hem of his shirt, pushing it over his chest with his hands cupping his pecs. ]
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Oh, Will knows he'll be pleasured beyond his wildest dreams if he's just patient enough. But the terrible thing about going this slow, so slow, is that it makes him all too aware of every little touch, every little movement. Anticipation prickles gossamer-light over his body; having to wait makes him feel unbearably sensitive to Louis's touch. His bare skin has already erupted in goosebumps, and his nipples are peaked before Louis's thumbs even brush past them. He's already so hard.
Louis lingers, drawing out his own satisfaction — and Will has been trying to hold himself back, but the whine creeps out of his throat before he can help himself. ]
Please...?
[ He can be the stalwart captain for everyone else, but he can't hold his desires back when it comes to Louis, it seems. Still, Louis always seems to like it when Will is openly greedy — so he's openly greedy now, pressing his body wantonly into Louis's palms. One of his small hands tugs at Louis's wrist, pressing it more firmly against the faint swell of his chest. ]
Touch me more...
[ So needy. But it's cute, too, how he can't even wait the scant few seconds it takes for Louis to thoroughly admire his body. ]
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Aren't you brimming with lust, Captain?
[ he enunciates the word deliberately, gently teasing a nipple between his thumb and forefinger as he does. the tables have turned, just a bit, in the easy way that Louis still phrases the question but seemingly takes charge. still, he doesn't break character. ]
You've been hard for a while, haven't you? How much longer will you resist?
[ how much longer until Will is unbuttoning his pants? Will his king find his self-control, or will he spill all over? Louis likes both options, in play and in desperation, and Will never disappoints. large hands run just beneath the hem of his shirt, brushing against the hard tips as he leans down to nip at his ear, leaving a warm puff of breath between them. ]
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I've been a little hard since I first saw you...
[ He admits this freely, since it's true; something about seeing Louis all prim and proper in that common soldier's uniform drives him mad. That gentle pinch to his nipple brings him some relief, but not enough; he needs more than this, more and more and more. He bites his lip in response, tensing up in the prettiest sort of way, thin shoulders held taut with arousal. There's a pretty blush on his cheeks now, too. But as he looks up at Louis, and undoes the buttons of his pants, wiggling himself free of his trousers and underwear on the swing — ah, he might well and truly be the lewdest little king in the world. ]
I just think... you're so cute...
[ Cute? Really? It can't just be cute, or he wouldn't be this hard. But it's true that Will thinks Louis can be very, very cute sometimes. ]
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cute?
that's not a term that's usually associated with him. terrifying, yes, even words like haunting and flawless, but certainly not cute. since when has Will thought of him has cute? it's not so long ago that they were caught in a bitter battle together, challenging one another.
still, Louis keeps him from falling, shifting the weight on the swing so he can balance himself without tumbling to the ground. as gleeful a moment as that would be, his duty as consort is to make his king look good, and a country is only as good as its king looks on some level (on an oversimplified level, but he was certain that there would be some onlookers that caught sight of them before he could make a threat).
he holds the knit of the rope steady as Will discards the rest of his clothes, holding himself as a statue for the king to lean on if needed. he's good at playing soldier, perhaps because he did it for so long before this.
when drops his clothing, Louis tilts his head down to take a kiss. he's direct about it, spontaneous and demanding, capturing the king's mouth in his own as if he were defying an order. another gets pressed to the pink of his cheeks, near the soft hairs beneath his ear. ]
State your orders before I form my own, Captain.
[ there's a little game to this: will Louis listen or not, and will Will be enticing enough for Louis to listen? or will he receive one of Louis Guiabern's gleeful defiances? the ones that he seems to find thrilling – that both of them seem to find thrilling. ]
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Still — all of Will's doubts in his own guilty pleasures are dispelled when Louis captures his lips in that hotly demanding way of his, as if the king's kisses are a prize he must seize by his own hand. Louis claims his lips, his cheeks, closer to his ear — Louis kisses him like he loves him, and this puts Will so completely at ease that he melts for his husband, relaxing visibly. Will kisses back, just as hot and demanding as his lover; as always, whether he knows it or not, Louis has encouraged him to be more selfish, more of a tyrant. More of the king that Louis wants him to be, perhaps — though he'll never compromise on his own principles.
Will kisses back, and when he pulls away — he licks his lips.
His Majesty is always so, so greedy. ]
...I want you to fuck me on this swing.
[ Will Louis take him like this, face-to-face? Or bend him over, have him cling to the ropes with the swing's seat to support him? Perhaps even one of those gleeful defiances, the ones Louis always manages to sneak in, as if to remind his husband that they used to be archrivals — Will can't wait to find out. ]
I want you to take me... claim me like a man possessed. I want you... as if all you need is me...
[ As sweetly as if he's only requesting a bit of extra jam at breakfast, Will tips his head coyly to one side, his bare legs askew as he sits in his pretty little swing. ]
Do I make myself clear?