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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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[ He's so embarrassingly aroused by this whole fantasy that he can't even explain it to himself. Why is it so captivating, the idea of a younger Louis, answering his commands and calling him Captain? Will almost feels as though he needs to examine something deep within himself. Is this predilection something he should be worried about? Is he some sort of... predator in the making?
(He is really very young, and his husband is nearly ten years older than him. A bit of harmless, kinky roleplay will hardly be their undoing, but Will can be worried about it, all the same.)
Anyway. He puts down all his work in the middle of doing it, as promised, and makes his way down to the training yard where he knows he will find Louis practicing his skill with the blade. And how will he find Louis? Sweaty and shirtless, perhaps, or immaculately put together, as though he's only just started his regimen?
Nearly trembling with excitement (and thankful that his usual coat obscures his shameless arousal), Will lifts his voice, affecting an impressively calm and authoritative voice: ]
Attention!
[ ...It's more playful than anything else, though. Louis, salute your superior officer immediately! ]
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Louis knew his military career had been over when he had come back – there was simply no place for him among its ranks. even given the choice, he was not sure he'd want to return. joining was more of a necessity than anything else, so now that it's not necessary, it does not feel needed. still, his habits are his habits, and there's a comfort in falling into practice, even if they're drills he's done a hundred times over.
when he asks for a standard uniform, the guards scramble to go find one in his size. even though he's the king consort now, rather than anyone with rank, he's still a legend.
the uniform fits well – a little tight at the shoulders, but hugged at the waist. he leaves off the armor to better take off the jacket when it seems appropriate, the buttons crossing over his chest much like his old, white uniform. despite the soldier's uniform being ranks lower, he still wears it like a commander, another habit that he can't seem to break.
as Will arrives, a wooden training dummy is sliced through the center, sliding to the ground. Louis juggles his sword as he hears the command, sheathing it in a single, fluid motion, as if he's done it for a commander so many times before, and turns to face him. ]
Captain.
[ there's a low drawl to his voice, one betrayed by just how straight he's standing, how disciplined his stance is, and how he holds himself so still at attention. the corner of his lips is curled up, lashes drawn halfway over his eyes, knowing. ]
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The man turns and straightens to greet his "Captain," and Will feels his brain short-circuit. ]
Lou... is.
[ He is the king.
He has never before been so tongue-tied in his life.
Will knows he should continue the fantasy — say something appropriate, perhaps, or chastise Louis for invisible flaws with his technique or posture — but he... can't help it. His brain isn't working. This is his husband! His husband in a uniform that he hasn't worn in years; his husband, the way he might have looked a half-dozen years ago when Will was still dying of the curse inflicted upon his frail body.
Secretly, Will knows the fantasy isn't quite perfect — Louis was never a mere recruit in adulthood, when he looked like this he would have been many years younger — but even so. Even so! He wants nothing more than to have known Louis like this, young and sweet and innocent... gloriously handsome, unmarred by the scars of their shared trauma...
He can't help it. He can't maintain the act. He blurts out: ]
...How was practice?
[ For illustrative purposes:
The correct way to render this is ♡⋆˙⟡₊˚⊹♡ How was practice? ♡⊹˚₊⟡˙⋆♡
He's so besotted. Absolutely obsessed. Has Louis ever, truly, seen Will like this? Nervous, flustered, giggling, like a little girl with a crush. He can't help it! He's got a crush on his husband! His husband in a cute tight military recruit uniform, of the sort that Will himself once wore —
He's melting. Visibly. There's a dusty rose blush on his cheeks and he's blushing. The king is nervous to talk to his own husband. This fantasy truly has him in its grip. ]
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it was a long time ago that he wore such a uniform, and even then, he didn't wear it for too long. Louis was deemed a military prodigy, rising in the ranks quickly and leaving this drab, grey uniform behind. soon he was draped in more detailed uniforms, larger shoulders, longer capes, differing colors.
still, he manages to make a normal soldier's uniform look good. ]
As expected, Captain.
[ for a military commander, his words would be crisper, but there's a little defiant drawl that creeps into each one, both amused and curious. ]
Perhaps you'd care for a demonstration.
[ it's almost as if he has a fan waiting for him after his campaigns, giggling and acting coy. this isn't a gaggle of the people that had once draped themselves over his doorstep, though, this is the king.
and he feels like showing off. ]
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All of these things suit Louis quite well, but Will's utmost affection suits him even better. Fawning and unashamed of himself (okay, maybe he's a little ashamed of himself), the king clasps his hands together in hopeful delight and just seems to... sparkle. ]
I would love a demonstration!
[ Enjoy your MAG rewards, Louis. Your husband is practically radiating happy magla particles.
Oh, sure, he's playing the part of Louis's devoted fan more so than his commander, at the moment, but what does it matter so long as the king is pleased by his little flirtation with fantasy? ]
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Louis looks just a little smug, just a little, as he turns toward the training yard again and unsheathes his sword. during his full career in the military, he was quite used to being praised – those praises were mostly means to an end, where this seems somewhat more ... pure, in a way. he's not sure why he feels the very real and sudden need to impress his husband; as his husband is his husband, and is already quite impressed with him, but there's something childish in him that will uncovers with his fantasies and flirtation. ]
As you wish.
[ of course that doesn't mean that Louis is going to hold back, or be anything less than impressive. in less than fifteen seconds he has all the wooden dummies in the yard in shambles and demolished among a flurry of sword work and spells. most are destroyed beyond recognition, and the few that are still standing are like icy sculptures, others split in half perfectly, all among the rampant destruction of others that are nothing but embers.
it's a simple thing, as none of the dummies move, and he'd scoff at anyone else trying to show off as such, but the young king did want a show, and he feels quite proud of his handiwork.
Louis rests his flat blade backward against his shoulder, dragging it forward to flick the ash from its tip before sheathing it again.
then, he faces Will. ]
My craft is yours, Captain.
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In times past, when Louis wore this uniform for true, he wouldn't have looked like this. He would have been a more gangly thing, his hair cut above his shoulders, eyes filled with hate in a way that made Arvid Alces tense around him, and he outgrew this uniform quickly, casting it aside for the captain's uniform, then the lieutenant's, then the general's.
But what does it matter? This is a fantasy that they're sharing, in this moment, and it's fine if they're both being a little childish. Neither of them had many chances to be children before this, and it's just nice to be childish — to indulge in the dream of a world where Louis could have been less burdened by the pain that plagued him for years and years and years until his heart turned coal-black and rotten in his chest. ]
You're sooooo beautiful, Louis...
[ Again, the fawning smile, the breathless tone. The vivid blush on Will's face, unmistakable in this sunlight, But even that's lovely in its own way: this is not the type of sin Louis is accustomed to receiving. This is not calculated flattery, or a conniving sexual invitation — just pure, innocent adoration. From the man who is his lawfully wedded husband, no less.
...Right, he had a role to play, didn't he? Abruptly, the young "captain" straightens, clasping one hand behind his back and using the other to politely clear his throat. ]
I mean... ahem. That is... to be expected of someone in my unit. Keep up the good work.
[ ...His acting is as terrible as ever. It was a lot better back in those days on the Charadrius, though. Again: Will seems nervous around his husband. Will has a crush on his husband. ]
Actually, I came with orders for you.
[ He's improvising. ]
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it's especially hard to care when Will is looking at him so adoringly. since when has he cared about such things? there are plenty that have fawned and pawed at him during his time in the military – both fanatics, underlings and soldiers alike – ah, but Will is different.
Will is very different. ]
As you will, sir.
[ Louis stands at attention, feet perfectly hip-length apart, shoulders squared, as if the stance is burned into his memory. while Louis was never quite a gifted actor, he wasn't bad as long as he kept a straight face.
though even that seems to be failing him, as a smile creeps at the corners of his lips, noticing the rosy color of his king's cheeks. ]
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Suddenly Will feels as though he knows the true meaning of greed.
He is, ordinarily, the kind of man who wants to share his joys with everyone in the world, and that is why his followers believe in him, and he knows that. He would always share his joys and privileges with others. But even so, Will has a sudden and vicious impulse to make sure no one in Euchronia ever sees Louis like this besides him. Formal, at attention, awaiting his orders with a faint smile. This Louis must be his. Yes, his and his alone.
Will knows, in his heart of hearts, that it would be a wonderful thing if Louis smiled like this more often — and yet, at the same time, he wants to be the only man in the world who can make Louis smile.
Selfish, isn't it? Ridiculous, isn't it? But fantasy is for exploring exactly those things which might be perceived as selfish and indulgent and ridiculous, so Will — who is fully cognizant of the fact that some of the castle servants and guests might be eyeing them this very moment — gets up on tiptoe to whisper secret orders into his "eager recruit's" ear: ]
Your orders are... to embrace the king, and pick him up, and give him little kisses...
[ He's so visibly giddy as he lists out his demands one by one that he's actually bouncing on the balls of his feet as he holds himself on tiptoe. ]
And accompany him all through the afternoon and into the evening. Have I made myself clear?
[ Oh, if only their boyhoods had been this sweet — but now they have each other, for the rest of their lives... ]
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the words tickle his ear, sway the soft blond hair that frames his face. if there was an inker or a painter it would be difficult not to find inspiration in the two of them – once enemies vying for the crown – now sharing boyish secrets between one another.
he tilts his head down, his back in an arch to reach the king right below him, kissing the spot on his head where his horns would be if he were clemar. the king's hair is soft, and he smells fresh, with his own lingering musk behind it. it's intoxicating, perhaps because a hint of sweet sweat in it, and Will is certainly brimming with desire at this moment. perhaps that's mixed in there as well.
suspended there for the moment, he lowers his voice: ]
What would you have of my talents, Captain?
[ his palm lowers to his hip, then back to his waist, tracing a soft pathway between the two as he holds Will close. ]
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One day, perhaps, the artists and writers of their land will immortalize them in poem and painting and song. They'll tell of the boy-king and his handsome general and the sweet nothings they whispered to each other in the king's garden — of the great love they had for each other and their people. For now, here they are, flirting with each other and roleplaying badly in the courtyard.
(Well, Will is the one roleplaying badly, at least, which is funny because he wasn't such a bad actor when real lives were on the line.)
He leans in, doing his best approximation of a predatory leer; he only manages to look half-lidded and doting and impossibly besotted. He loves the kisses he's getting, the attention. Greedy as always, he murmurs in Louis's ear. ]
I could think of ways to put that skillful tongue of yours to good use, my dear recruit...
[ ...He maintains the position of "lecherous captain" for approximately six seconds before bursting into nervous laughter, collapsing into Louis's arms in a fit of giggles. ]
Noooo, I feel so naughty...! I'm sorry! I love you, Louis!
[ Cheeks aflame, he buries his face into Louis's chest, just above his breastplate... but he also hitches his legs around Louis's waist to make it easier for his husband to carry him. ]
...But... but I really wanna do bad things to you!
[ Ah, a king's appetites are never sated, but perhaps this is one of the most truly royal things about Will... ]
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for a blissful, fleeting second, Will gets a grasp on his inner Captain, leering and brushing against him in a delightful way. it leaves a tingling feeling at the back of Louis' neck, small hairs standing up in response to the promising words. the his king wiggles in his arms, blushing furiously and boyishly offering apologies for his dirty, smutty thoughts. ]
Does every kiss make you ponder the capabilities of my mouth?
[ then he adds, his voice dripping: ]
Captain?
[ he knows exactly what he's doing. during their clashes before their marriage, Louis had been singularly-focused on his own goal that left little room for humor – now little bits seem to unfold here and there has becomes more comfortable with where he is, as if parts of his personality were trapped behind the wall of his own ambitions.
perhaps he just never had an outlet before then. he had Fidelio and Basilio, of course, but they never saw the full him, not really. there were those that got closer, but still didn't seem to strike his interest.
well, until now. ]
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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?