Why is it that this sort of thing makes him feel even lighter and warmer than his memories of the prince these days?
He can't do this. Shouldn't do this. The mission is being compromised, and he was never meant to be more than the mission. At the same time, Louis's kiss feels right — warm and sweet and a little heady with alcohol, a flavor which Will has never been allowed before, and its taste is dizzying, like sin. Even if he had the heart to jerk back — and he doesn't — Louis's grip on his chin is firm and unyielding. Much like the man himself.
Will gives in. He doesn't respond with words, either — he simply parts his lips to accept Louis's kisses, begging for more with each eager movement of his tongue against the blond's. His fingers clutch at Louis's shirt, seeking what little purchase he can find along its perfectly tailored surface. I want this, he seems to be saying, despite the fact that it almost hurts to admit it. I need this.
His appetite is always the stronger, between the two of them. It was Louis who pulled him in first, true — but it's Will who has always begged for more, more and more and more until they've let the day slip by to indulge in the other.
Louis, Louis, Louis. Will wants to understand him so badly. How can be be this gentle, and yet so cruel? What does he want in this moment, when he did not even bring judgment upon Will's obvious betrayal? ]
[ Will will see the meaning in all of this when it's too late, and Louis turns away as allows himself to be poisoned by the royal scepter, unwilling to go back. for now, Lord Louis Guianbern is here with Will in his chambers, still somewhat rational and not yet fully gone.
the gloved hand at his chin wanders dangerously down his throat, holding him gently as if he could strike at any moment, but he doesn't. he doesn't, and instead, he just takes more of the kiss, exploring the inside of his mouth and teasing his tongue. before long, Louis has Will pressed up against the bookcase, his hands boldly wandering lower to trace his chest, his waist, his hips.
there will be those that notice his absence – those that notice Will's – but he has never been one to care. he has put himself in a position where other people's opinions no longer matter, and he can do as he likes. there is always a little threat to their coupling, isn't there? it's possible that Will's friends will find them, and then he's certain that something interesting would come of it. (he doubts they'd blow their cover so boldly, though.)
he can feel Will's hands searching along his uniform for something – either to grip or to start removing, and he smiles in the kiss, because he falls so easily into it. they both do. this is as reckless on Louis' part as it is on Will's, perhaps more so, if Fidelio were to be heard. where they differ is while Will questions the pleasure, Louis does not care.
standing over Will, Louis lowers, just a bit, to pull back from the wet kiss and part his lips at the thin line of exposed skin just beneath his collar. ]
[ Will moans softly as he tips his head back, eager to accept more of Louis's kisses, to have that beautiful mouth softly nipping down his neck, hands trying to expose his body, explore every inch of skin within reach. He's beautiful, the young man thinks, hazily, because it's true that he does not think he has or ever will meet a man more beautiful and more dangerous than Louis Guiabern. Their difference in heights and physiques is dizzying, each and every time; even this slight adjustment in position has Will feeling as though he's being bent in half.
Even so, he is undeterred. His appetites are fresher and more avaricious than ever. Will's fingers finally remember how to take Louis's clothing apart; he wants to work at the buttons across Louis's chest, pull them apart to reveal inches of alabaster skin and perfectly sculpted marble, but he's learned from past experience that the man does not seem to favor having his body exposed, so Will chooses instead to work at his own buttons. As Louis mouths at him, he loosens the collar of his jacket, then pulls it off his shoulders, surrendering his body for the man's exploration, his investigation, his use.
A spy, caught in his betrayed lord's bedroom — stripping for forgiveness, falling on seduction to save him. It would be poignant if Will were not so willing. The truth is, he doesn't know if he's trying to save the mission, or only trying to indulge himself. Louis is so intensely demanding, so pleasurable to please. Will lets his coat drop to the ground; he buries his nose in the man's hair.
He always, always smells so good. Somehow not of anything in particular, no foreign or artificial scent, but sort of woodsy, sort of green. Warm, in the way that washed linens are. Will always feels so comforted in Louis's embrace. As if he's somehow familiar, but then, Will can't fathom why that should be so. ]
[ there goes Will's jacket, his bag, the buttons on his vest, giving Louis room to trace the curve of his waist up toward his chest. when the vest falls down his arms, Louis bundles it and lets it drop carelessly. it's less clothing to deal with, and he's closer to the shape of Will's body, now only separated from his hand with a thin barrier of fabric.
all that's left is the black shirt, and Louis is devilish and wanting, firm and direct in his desires when he traces a thumb over a nipple through the fabric, teasing it until he can feel the shape under his clothing.
Will wanted to talk about the book, but not enough to interrupt the next kiss. they have time, but neither enough to dawdle before they're summoned back to the party – and Will, well, he has a mission to complete. Louis has an idea, though he may not fully know the extent, and certainly does not care. he's not the perpetrator of the crime that center of the group's intent, and there's nothing in the Charadrius that would implicate him. despite that, he's certain that they'll keep looking, and he wonders if Will may begin to question certain rumors taken as truths, but that remains to be seen.
when Will leans forward, Louis slips an arm just under his hips, lifting him up off his feet how they've both accustomed themselves to it. there's a thrill at the idea of taking Will up against the bookshelf, but he could also have him anywhere. the plush, red chair that Louis loves to lounge in so much is not far, and he settles himself lavishly in it with Will on his lap.
Louis is in the race to be king, though his ambitions reach further than just ruling. however, in a moment like this, he does feel like royalty with Will on his lap. ]
[ So maddening, to feel so helpless. There is a part of Will that is telling himself that he has no choice, that he must please this tyrant if he wants to walk out of this room alive. Another, more traitorous corner of his heart whispers of how badly he wants it, how good it will feel to surrender to Louis once again and drown in that pleasure which only he seems to be able to bring Will's body. It's in the way he touches Will, feels him up through the fabric of his shirt as if memorizing his every curve and the swell of his breaths. His thumb presses against Will's nipple deliberately, teasing it until it peaks, and every nerve in Will's body is tingling for more.
Will is already hard and aching in his pants by the time Louis settles him into that beautiful armchair, and the man's gorgeous lap. He knows he shouldn't be so lascivious, that Louis may not even like the idea of him being so whorish and wanton, but he can't help himself; he grinds his cock into the man's groin, as if desperate to signal his eagerness, and how badly he wants this. The one comfort he tells himself is that Louis has always liked it when he's bold.
Will boldness win him the truth? Can boldness save the prince's life? If nothing else, he can admit that he wants to satisfy Louis. Craving sex with Louis may very well be the only selfish thing Will has wanted in his short life. ]
[ oh, Louis is certain that Fidelio has his number by now, especially with the two of them gone from the soiree. while he didn't plant this exchange exactly, he certainly didn't discount the possibility of it happening. the last couple weeks have told him that Will likes his company quite a bit more than he may come off to his friends, seeing how many times he's been at Louis' doorstep since their first tryst.
like a big cat, Louis leans back in his seat as Will presses into him. whenever the two of them part, he's never aware of his own loneliness, but it seems to show up again when Will spreads his legs over his lap and reminds him how beautiful affection can be. it scares him, in a way, but not enough that he won't face it – or perhaps he doesn't want to deny the pleasure. (later, he'll send Will away.) he cups Will's cheek in his hand, tracing his thumb over his parted lips. his breath is light, and his mouth is sweet.
with an arm he draws him in, takes his hip his hand and drags him down as Will grinds against him, letting the movement roll through his body. his breath comes in long, fills his chest and comes out in a hah of warmth. ]
You're already ready.
[ there's a playful cadence to his voice, as playful as someone like Count Louis can have, but it's there nonetheless. ]
You — [ Will squirms, holding his pleasure taut in his belly, God, it feels so good ] — you make me ready...
[ He feels as though he's going mad. Something about Louis is surely driving him mad, urging him onward, towards pleasure, and towards the loss of all reason. It's more than the pleasure that he feels in his own body; it's wanting that pleasure to course through Louis, too. It's the way he takes satisfaction in hearing Louis's breath catch in his throat and come out in a half-laugh, one that reminds Will in an intoxicating way that the man is only mortal, and even he can be caught, killed, seduced, defiled.
(Of all the possibilities, Will doesn't know which one he wants more.)
Will himself breathes out hard, too, letting himself sink further into debauchery. Seeking support and someplace to put his weight, he places one hand, daringly, over the curve of Louis's left breast. Squeezes it. Imagines what it would be like to sink his hand into that chest, and tear his heart out.
And yet — somehow, before that, and against all reason, Will thinks that he'd like to ride Louis's cock, and make him taste heaven instead.
The young elda lowers his mouth and claims Louis's lips again, licking delicately into his mouth, all tantalizing wetness, grazing his teeth along the man's bottom lip as he pulls away. ]
I'm always ready, the second I feel your hands on me...
[ caught, killed, seduced, defiled – perhaps all of them at once. Louis never wanted to be a deity, as there is something glorious about being mortal, and perhaps this is all part of it. there is some primal part of Will being tapped into, and Louis can see it on his face as he presses against his chest, leans into the pressure and looks like he may devour him.
is that it – is the accomplished Count Louis Guiabern the prey to this kind hearted elda boy? wouldn't that be something?
Louis takes the wrist of the hand on his chest as if in challenge, keeping his gaze locked with Will's until they're connected again. it's warmth and teeth this time, a messy wetness that feels tainted. when Will pulls back, Louis draws his arm up and takes him closer to the elbow, drags him in again and clicks his teeth together. ]
Come, then. I will put my hands everywhere.
[ from his wrist to his elbow, and then from his elbow to hooked beneath his shoulder. he won't allow Will to go far. long fingers find their way under his shirt, dance just up his spine as he urges their hips together. there's a quiet hum in his throat when they grind together, as Will isn't the only one who's already ready. ]
[ Little movements win him quiet moans, caught in the throat; something in Will burns for more. He wants to hear more of that, louder — turn that soft hum into a ferocious growl. Wants to drive Louis crazy, if he can manage it.
Maybe thinking that is only proof that Louis is the one who's driven him crazy instead.
Still. He feels no shame, or at least, he's forgotten what shame should feel like. He lets Louis's long fingers dance over his body; he even sits back and pulls his shirt off of his own volition, as if to signal exactly how eager he is, or perhaps how desperate. Then he's on top of Louis again, kissing him fiercely, all appetite and dizzying lust for such a small thing.
In all the times they've coupled, this might be the first time Will has been the one to be so hungry. He rubs his groin against Louis's until he feels the man fully at attention, even laughs a little when he takes stock of just how big and thick his lord is; shirtless and stripped bare, he rocks his hips the way some men ride horses, only this time the beast beneath him is none other than Louis Guiabern, and he, the nameless elda boy, acts as if he's come to claim his prize. ]
Everywhere...?
[ He acts so innocent, even when he's being so sinful. Deliciously delicate, impossibly slim, Will leans back in a way that makes his hips look more curvaceous than ever, then takes hold of the hand that isn't dancing up his spine, placing Louis's large palm firmly over the bulge between his legs, as if to promise him that he has a gift waiting for him there. ]
[ so much passion in such a person, pressing fervently on top of him as if Louis belonged to him. there are not many who've attempted this, and none who've succeeded, but there's something about Will that fascinates him. even found in his room, trembling and terrified, Will manages to recover in a dizzying array of elegance. Louis wonders if this is like an outlet for him, or if there's something magnetic between them in the way their magla manifests. perhaps both.
with his shirt off and no barrier between Louis' hands and Will's body, he finds the spaces he seems to love to trace: the curve of his waist, the plump shape of his rear, his thumb in the dip of his spine until he can feel the little hairs on his body stand on end. he is enamored as much as he first saw him when he defied the church, his eyes on him just as insistently as his hands. ]
You're getting impatient.
[ where he was once lounging, Louis sits up just slightly, leaning forward in to Will who's getting so deliciously eager. he rubs his cock through his pants, finding the shape of it much like he found the shape of other parts of Will's body. he's soft, responsive, and Louis can tell that he desires something deeper (so flagrantly stripping and mewling, as if a heat had arisen in him). the hand that was once at his spine presses against down against his ass, urging him to thrust into his hand, even with the fabric between them.
Louis is close enough that there's a hot, panting breath that matches Will's movements, one that says he may be imagining what Will is – the other elda on top of him, riding him with a growing sense of urgency. as if to tasting him in preparation to devour him, Louis drags his tongue from between his pecs and up his throat. ]
[ Will shivers, throwing his head back; he allows himself to sink into the arousal, the slick wet sick sensation, silky and hot and good, of Louis's tongue moving over his sternum, up up up over his throat and the pulse in his neck. Oh, a man this outwardly perfect shouldn't be allowed to be so lewd. So hungry, so tempestuous. Will fears that he'll drown in the torrent of Louis's lust. ]
So are you...
[ The hand on his lower back, between his legs — the hands in his sensitive, intimate places only drive Will's want to blazing heights. But, coquettishly, he refuses to touch Louis in turn. He hears that hot wet breath tinging Louis's voice, he sees the desire dancing in his eyes like sunlight shining through emeralds — but even so. Deliberately, he wants to make Louis ache. ]
And I love to see it.
[ He's never quite sounded like this before. Voice husky, low, seductive. He has one hand on the man's chin as he whispers directly into the shell of Louis's ear, caressing his jawline; he speaks so low and so directly into his lover's eardrum that it's almost as if he's making a conscious effort to tickle Louis's brain. ]
I want to see how you look when someone makes you wait.
[ it's remarkable how Will finds himself, taking away snatches of power and control from one of the most powerful men in Euchronia. it's no wonder that he's risen as quickly as he has, this spirit is nothing less than glorious. if it's anyone who could attain the heights of Louis' arousal, it's this elda boy on his lap.
as Will lowers to press down into his hand again, Louis stills him until their eyes align. there are two that can play at this little push and pull, and it seems to light a spark inside of him. he tilts his head, his gaze steady on him, leaning in closer until their foreheads are touching. ]
How long will that be?
[ he asks, his voice heady, the same quiet lust behind the phrase he had uttered early at the party: drink it in. ]
Will you endure long enough for such a prize?
[ deliberately, he runs his thumb up Will's cock, along the length and to where he knows the head to be. there's a slight urgency to his touch now that Will's so close, openly touching his face and brushing against his hair. he's hungry for more of it, coaxing it out of his would-be rival with an enticing challenge of pleasure.
between his legs, his own length aches, trying to pull back and remind him that Will has a very good chance of getting what he wants, and seeing Louis Guiabern fall apart at a single touch. he's not used to it – still, despite their trysts – and thus Will certainly has the upperhand, but Louis has always been a risk taker. perhaps he'll fail, but he will fail in such a blaze that he will drag Will down into the depths of such a beautiful, beautiful sin with him. ]
[ Louis's insistent touching soon elicits a gorgeous moan out of Will's throat. Somehow, the man always knows just the right way to touch him, just the way he likes to be touched. It's intoxicating, too, to watch him — to see the way Will, too, absolutely falls apart with pleasure, and just the barest hint of it. There's no doubting that Will has enjoyed every second of their illicit trysts, the way his eyes glaze over, and his lips part in eager anticipation of more.
He bucks his hips faster into Louis's hand, selfishly chasing his own pleasure — but then Louis cruelly holds his hips still, and Will whines, straining against the man's big palms. He makes such sweet, pleading noises when he's inconvenienced; it's really very funny.
Will leans in, catches Louis's lips with his own. Kissing, so close to begging. Drink it in, Louis had said, but why does Will feel more as though he's the fine wine that's been poured into a goblet for Louis to swirl and toy with before imbibing?
Stubborn, Will still makes no moves to please Louis. But he kisses the man with reckless abandon, leaning into his body, draping both his arms around Louis's shoulders, curtained by the waves of his fine blond hair. He catches Louis's tongue with both his lips, sucking on it in stuttering sweet sloppy motions until he slips off the tip of it, saliva connecting his lip to Louis's.
The man he has sworn to kill looks so good, finally tousled with a slight flush and all the more attractive for it.
[ soft, sweet noises that want more, that make Louis want more. he's so daring and hungry for a small thing, ravaging in his desire as he takes Louis' mouth for his own again and again. if Will is the wine, Louis will never empty the cup, as it seems bottomless in need. as a self-made man of power, he's been lusted after by many, though curiously denied all. he could say that he's never been desired, but that wouldn't be true, but what would be true is that he has never felt desired like this. there is a carnal satisfaction in it, one that catches in his stomach in a heated, uncomfortable way, then throbs between his legs.
Will is testing him, but Louis does not want to give him the satisfaction – not yet. in ways his body betrays him, beneath his clothing his nipples rub up against the fabric in a way he doesn't usually notice until they're together, and his pants tighten around his cock. there's a light flush across his cheeks – from the heat, certainly – that looks like he's been posing for an oil painting.
his lips part and he lingers in the feel of the saliva pooling on his tongue, the little strand of fluid that connects the two of them together. drawing it out a little more it snaps before he licks his lips, drawing whatever mixture of it they created into his mouth. ]
You're feeling confident.
[ he says with a low drawl, as if he's caught Will red handed.
as if to tempt him into answering, Louis has already undone the buttons of his trousers, his long fingers inching down to touch what he had clothed. instead he cups his cock and balls in his hand, putting a gentle pressure on him as they play this little game of chicken. ]
How about now?
[ though he knows he's being reckless, much like a battle, he's left his own vulnerabilities open. he may be clothed, but there are sensitive spots that Will has found in their couplings, and he's become good at finding them, given Louis' preference for keeping his uniform on. they're there, behind his ears and down his throat, in the soft waves of his hair now tousled and spilling over his shoulders.
no, they are equal here, as much of a show as Louis puts on. ]
[ Fuck, fuck, fuck. His body is already so taut with anticipation that his spine arches like a bow's curve beneath Louis's hand. It doesn't even matter that Louis isn't touching him in earnest yet; just that gentle pressure, that sweet promise of touch against his cock, is enough to make him shiver with need and think of all the times they've done this before, indulged in the other, lain in each others' pleasure.
Even so. Will is not the type who will not launch a counterattack. The young elda surges forward, pressing more kisses to Louis's mouth, less heated this time and more pleading, warm soft sweet needy kisses of the sort that Louis is surely not in any way used to receiving. So warm. How is it that Will always makes him feel desired like this? Treasured, adored, beloved —
Still. Those loving kisses turn into something vicious soon enough. Once Louis's mouth is not enough for him, Will kisses those sensitive spots down his neck, nestled deep where the flaxen waves of his blond hair usually hides his nape from view. His tongue flicks out and laps, kittenish, along responsive skin. His breath is warm and wet and so, so promising. One finger trails from the top of Louis's scalp down the back of his ear, slides down the smooth soft skin along his neck. ]
Just say you want me...
[ He wants to win. He wants Louis to beg.
And yet, by goading him into begging — perhaps Will is the one who is truly pleading, here. ]
[ no, Will is not one to take anything without parrying, and he does parry, reaching up to all the vulnerable places on Louis' throat. the former general leans back with a sigh, allowing Will's weight to tip forward as he nibbles and works at his neck. if they weren't guided by the conditions of the election, it would be possible that Will could kill him like this. there were many times that Will could've killed him like this, exploited him and made demands – yet, yet...
he doesn't. it's thrilling to leave the possibility open.
it makes Louis believe that he's truly enjoying himself, despite the mission that Will has – the mission Louis knows Will has. one day one of them will most likely have to die, but he can't say that he isn't fond of him – there could be other options, perhaps. those options he can think of at other times, after this. a world where neither of them die, that haunting, beautiful world that is burned into his brain.
the clasps to the clothing on his collar are pulled open, enough just to give Will a hint of more skin beneath heavy layers of his military uniform so get a taste of it there.
then, as if capturing the moment between a breath, he dances his fingers up the length of Will's cock, rubbing his thumb against the head, as if fulfilling a promise. it's a deliberate, quiet, calculated counter to Will's counter, his hands familiar with the way his partner likes to be touched. the arm around the lovely curve in his back pulls him close, until they're both in suspension, leaning back against the plush chair in his quarters.
his whisper is dark, the words just for them. ]
I hunger for you. When we part, I will long to taste you again.
[ Louis rubs against him in the confines of his pants, along the sensitive tip where his hand is caught between them. the length of his own cock presses against Will's thigh, dragging against him and causing Louis to steady his breath carefully, as if he truly may snap. ]
[ Just hearing Louis give in arouses Will so deeply that he actually shudders and loses his balance as Louis tugs him forward.
It's only a little bit, of course, and he corrects himself immediately, grabbing blindly for purchase along Louis's body; his hand curls around the base of the man's right horn desperately as Will rights himself, guilty of leaning too far forward, wanting nearly to collapse and melt into the lover whom he is either destined to kill or die trying to assassinate. He breathes hard, senses lost momentarily in the tingling thrill of Louis's thumb rubbing devilishly into the sensitive head of Will's cock.
(So much of Will's body feels sensitive, and only ever with Louis. Sometimes he feels as though the man has cast some wicked enchantment upon him; he feels so lost, as though his whole body is tingling with erogenous glee.)
One hand firmly gripping Louis's horn, the other caught between their tangled legs, Will shivers once more, lost in heady arousal, and begins rewarding the Count in earnest. His free hand deftly undoes the fastenings holding Louis's pants together, extracts the man's hot, throbbing cock. So heavy, so thick, so wet with need already. Oh, it makes Will's mouth water. His body feels loose already, even without stimulation, eager to be stretched and filled and wrecked by none other than Louis Guiabern. ]
I... ah, I always hunger for you...
[ He's lost in it already, the sinful weight of sex, even as his left hand grips Louis's hard horn all the more tightly and his right hand rolls up and down Louis's hot cock. ]
[ Will grabs his horn, somewhere at the base, jerks his head slightly and Louis lets out a sudden gasp at the pressure. Louis is always careful with his pleasure, limiting his sensitivity and vulnerability, but when Will grabs him the heat rushes to his loins. in Will's hand, his cock twitches, as if he's somehow pushed some magic button. Louis is caught, blissfully caught, and it feels good.
his horns are constructed with convincing precision; the way they attach to his head is more than simply cosmetic, they're real to the touch. it's an artifact from his foster family, one that has kept him from much of the ridicule he'd get as an elda. they've grown with him, and he's gotten used to the weight, how they feel on his head. it's almost as if he really is clemar, as he's even adjusted the way that he moves in a space with them on.
they're even weathered in ways that have seen some battle, a little nick or scratch, one color fading into another into darker colors as if they had once been smaller. at the base they're soft, like fine fabric, the hairs on his head even adjusting to them. Louis never thought of them more as a means to his glamour, and hadn't spent time touching them or allowing anyone else to do so. with such confidence Will grabs them, alerts all the sleeping nerves at the base in a rapturous frenzy in a way he didn't know was possible. he can feel the electricity crawl down his spine from Will's fingertips. ]
Ah ...
[ his breath shakes, and the curse that may have been on his lips doesn't even make it past them. Will gets the low moan that he was hoping for, the sound woven into his deep breaths.
Will's got his horn in one hand, tugging at his head, the other working along his length. in their lovemaking, this is the first time he's felt somewhat defeated. he's being handled by Will so expertly. when did he get so good at this – is it a preview of things to come? there's something attractive about that, too. the hand tucked into Will's pants stills, grabs onto the hem as if he's desperate for something to hold onto, his knuckles tight. ]
[ This — this is the reaction Will has craved. What he's been pushing for, all this time. It wasn't just that he wanted to hear Louis admit out loud that he wanted this; he also wanted to see Louis like this — pushed past his impossible self-control, forced to be mortal, forced to be real.
To think an accident got him this far! In all their previous trysts, Will wouldn't have even dreamed of grabbing Louis's horns and jerking his head back like he was some common cow to be wrangled. Now, though — now that he's seen what this does to Louis, and how pleasing it feels beneath his palm, warmer than he thought it would be and velvety across the hard surface — the young elda feels empowered to keep going. He adjusts his grip on Louis's horn, bewildered for a moment, and then triumphant, like a wolf in the night scenting blood. ]
You like this...?
[ Yes, Louis likes this — that much is clear from how he shuddered and his breath is shaking in his mouth. Will wants to see more. It doesn't even matter that Louis isn't touching him anymore; Will likes that, takes it as a sign that what he's doing is just that good. He drags his nails over the surface of the horn he's been touching, and then — when he notices that Louis seems most sensitive closest to his scalp, where there must be nerves anchoring the appendages to his head — aggressively rubs the velvet at the base. At the same time, his other hand rubs Louis's cock, the soft hot head, the warm veins through his shaft.
Louis is so beautiful like this, with a haze of lust dulling those vivid turquoise-blue eyes. His lovely white skin flushes such a brilliant red when stimulated. He wants to make Louis jolt again. ]
So cute... oh, Louis...
[ He sounds so fond. The impossibly sweet chastisement of a lover: Oh, Louis, Louis. I didn't know you were keeping such a secret from me. ]
[ it's a shock to him too – no one had touched him like that before. while he was aware of the sensitivity, he ignored the possibilities of it, his horns were a tool, nothing more. now Will's fingers glide over them, rub gently up against the soft skin that connects them to his head like he's discovered a new treasure. it feels good – really good – enough that he's pulling himself from the haze of pleasure. it feels like a light touch dragging against his skin, and the pleasure crawls up the base of his neck, making all the nerves stand on end. it makes him gasp.
some part of him wanted this. for Will to trip him and sweep him up, either with a blade, or like this, stroking his cock and rubbing his horns until Louis shudders. he was reckless, deliberately reckless, and now he's caught in a spiral of pleasure. Will is bold enough to take this opportunity, center himself and run with it.
Louis can already feel his body tensing and shuddering from the dual stimulation, the head of his cock slick as Will milks more precum from the tip. if Will keeps it up, he realizes that he could – and will – come from this alone. he's not certain he'd even be able to swallow it down, no, he feels as if there's a dam inside him cracking, with a great flood behind it.
he sets a hand on Will's shoulder, but doesn't remove his hands his horns. it seems that he's managing to find his words, at least. ]
Take off the rest of your clothes.
[ he wants a fully naked Will, at the very least. it may give him a moment of reprieve.
there's a light flush in his cheeks, one he looks good with, his hair curling around his face, tousled a bit from the combination of Will's hands and his own sudden breaths. ]
[ Oh, it's so tempting, though. To defy orders. To keep pushing, keep going, make Louis come. He'd look so good, Will knows; flushed and panting in his chair, stained with his own cum. Will wants to see it so badly, so fiercely. He wants the satisfaction of having pushed Louis to his back foot.
But — he relents. For a number of reasons, chief among them the fact that he knows this upper hand is one that won't be relinquished. So the great and mighty Lord Louis likes having his horns touched. Who would have thought that Count Louis Guiabern, the infallible, could be brought so low by an elda's touch?
(That's what Will should think, at least — so why is it that when he looks into his heart, he feels mostly fondness for the man who has ruined everything?)
Will pulls back, smiling viciously, like an enemy combatant that has sensed weakness. But still — still, he slides out of Louis's lap, if only to give himself some space to pull his clothing off. ]
Your will be done, Lord Louis.
[ The obeisance is nearly sarcastic. Will strips, slowly pulling his coat and shirt off, first, unhurried and teasing — and then his pants, those skintight leggings that do nothing to hide the lines of his legs from view. He's softer than one would expect, their odd-eyed elda; it's as if his entire body is open to Louis's touch, was made for him specifically.
When ever last inch of his skin is revealed, and his hard cock is bared for Louis's enjoyment, Will crawls back into Louis's lap again. At least that short, deliberate striptease gave him a sort of reprieve — or maybe it didn't at all. ]
it does give him a brief moment or relief as Will pulls back from his horns and his cock, at least enough that he can collect himself. he has time to rearrange his expression, allow a sigh to escape his lungs and shake his head until his hair falls in tufts around his cheeks. that is something that he did not expect – thrilling, perhaps, but still unexpected.
Louis does get to settle back, letting his gaze rest on Will and each movement that's meant as a display. he knows full well that this is meant for him, and Louis indulges himself in watching this private show, unabashedly watching each article of clothing get stripped and tossed to the floor. the shape of Will's body seems to fascinate him, and he watches as if he's memorizing where his limbs connect, the soft curves that melt together, and the angles of his slim figure. as Will's clothes come off, he absently reaches down to take his length in his hand, stroking slowly to keep the stimulation as he watches. ]
For now.
[ a sleeved arm slips around Will's middle as he tangles his legs back onto his lap. he's collected enough of himself to look put-together and satisfied again, even if Will got a brief glance of his pleasure-addled expression.
tipping Will's chin up, Louis kisses him. ]
Savor your victories.
[ he says lowly, taking Will's ass in his hands and tilting him forward until their hips are pressed together tightly, and he can enjoy the friction as they rub together. ]
[ For a moment, Will sinks into the pleasure, letting himself feel it, yield to it, adjust to it. His body rocks comfortingly against Louis's as he whimpers and focuses on the sinful pleasure of letting his sensitive cock slip and slide against his lover's, much bigger and somehow hotter to the touch in a way that makes Will's skin prickle with pleasure all the way down to his toes. He thinks he might be addicted to the way Louis's body feels against his. He thinks he's not sure what he's going to do when Louis is dead and he still craves this, needs this, wants this, loves this.
He's resting his hands on the man's shoulders for the moment, letting his body rock with each of Louis's friction-chasing thrusts, and he's so pretty, parting his lips to pant slightly with each thrust. There's no mistaking the way his mismatched eyes flick upward to Louis's horns every now and then, though; it's not a matter of if he's going to touch Louis's horns again, but when. ]
I don't have to savor them if I've already won.
[ Will's voice is so, so confident, like this. So triumphant, now that he knows exactly what Louis looks and sounds and feels like when he's drowning in pleasure, needy in a way that no one else has ever seen him.
As he rubs and rides and slides against Louis's cock, Will places a gentle, loving hand on his jawline, teasing: ]
I can make you come whenever I want.
[ Oh, it's a challenge, in that tone of voice. This pretty little elda boy — he wants a war. ]
[ one of them will be dead, surely, and Louis is all too aware that this will come to pass eventually. for now, he has Will in his grasp, being smug and arrogant in a way that almost makes Louis believe him, but not quite. not yet, anyway. Will can't beat him yet.
(some part of him thinks that it's possible to still convince Will – this elda boy, who had been hurt in much of the same way that he had – that the world needs remaking. that strength is the true test of fate. they could live together like that, couldn't they? basking in their strength as the world falls apart.)
there's a breathy, hot laugh that escapes his lips in puffs of air. ]
I won't fall for the same trick twice. Though I am curious if there's anything else you've got up your sleeve.
[ his breath hitches, but he still seems somewhat amused. long fingers close around Will's wrist, and he turns, holding his wrist behind him, forcing him forward. that's one less hand to grab his horns with, and gives Louis leeway in their current position. though Will also looks good like this, slightly arched forward with his shoulders pulled back, his ass dragging against his thighs.
leaning in, Louis gets close to his ear until his breath tickles the hairs there. ]
If I were to take you now, would you consider that winning?
[ if Will worked Louis up enough with his challenge for him to respond in turn? despite his confidence, Louis takes their cocks with his other hand, giving a single, deliberate, hard stroke in response to the provocation. ]
[ Will's breath catches in his throat as Louis twists his arm behind his back, forcing his spine to arch in just the way the man seems to like. He didn't quite expect Louis to escalate things so high, take this competition of theirs so seriously; abruptly, a thrill of fear shoots through Will's spine as he suddenly remembers just how dangerous this position is, how brazenly he's been playing with fire, teasing Louis Guiabern as if the man isn't mad enough to run him through with a blade if given the right provocation.
(Is that true, though? Sometimes Louis looks at him like he's special. Treats him like he's special. Sometimes, Will dares to think that he means something. Other times, he has to remind himself of how dangerous it would be to mean anything to Count Louis Guiabern.) ]
Hah... [ A breathless laugh. ] Why don't you take me and find out?
[ He could still touch Louis's horn with his free hand, despite all proclamations of not falling for the same trick twice, but Will only moves his hand to caress the man's obscenely beautiful face instead, gazing heatedly into his gorgeous long-lashed eyes.
What else does Will have up his sleeve? Nothing, nothing whatsoever — save for those large, soulful eyes of his, mismatched but deep in color, speaking of infinite love and infatuation. Only Will ever looks at Louis like this — like he isn't an untouchable ideal or a ruthless warmonger to be feared so much as a soft, sweet thing that would never hurt him, no matter how his wrist is twisted behind his back in the moment.
Any man in Euchronia could get on his knees for Louis, suck him off, take him willingly, ride him until he comes — but only Will can look this sweet, wide-eyed and loving, with lips that have drunk of the sweet, too-thick air of that sacred forest grove that lies in ashes at the bottom of Louis's heart. ]
Take me. Claim me. Make me yours.
[ Oh, he knows he's lying, but it feels so good to lie. Perhaps Louis even knows that he's lying. The Count can never claim him so long as he professes in his own mad belief that he can create a world where strength dominates above all else — but wouldn't it be nice to think for a moment that Will was something he could conquer? ]
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Why is it that this sort of thing makes him feel even lighter and warmer than his memories of the prince these days?
He can't do this. Shouldn't do this. The mission is being compromised, and he was never meant to be more than the mission. At the same time, Louis's kiss feels right — warm and sweet and a little heady with alcohol, a flavor which Will has never been allowed before, and its taste is dizzying, like sin. Even if he had the heart to jerk back — and he doesn't — Louis's grip on his chin is firm and unyielding. Much like the man himself.
Will gives in. He doesn't respond with words, either — he simply parts his lips to accept Louis's kisses, begging for more with each eager movement of his tongue against the blond's. His fingers clutch at Louis's shirt, seeking what little purchase he can find along its perfectly tailored surface. I want this, he seems to be saying, despite the fact that it almost hurts to admit it. I need this.
His appetite is always the stronger, between the two of them. It was Louis who pulled him in first, true — but it's Will who has always begged for more, more and more and more until they've let the day slip by to indulge in the other.
Louis, Louis, Louis. Will wants to understand him so badly. How can be be this gentle, and yet so cruel? What does he want in this moment, when he did not even bring judgment upon Will's obvious betrayal? ]
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the gloved hand at his chin wanders dangerously down his throat, holding him gently as if he could strike at any moment, but he doesn't. he doesn't, and instead, he just takes more of the kiss, exploring the inside of his mouth and teasing his tongue. before long, Louis has Will pressed up against the bookcase, his hands boldly wandering lower to trace his chest, his waist, his hips.
there will be those that notice his absence – those that notice Will's – but he has never been one to care. he has put himself in a position where other people's opinions no longer matter, and he can do as he likes. there is always a little threat to their coupling, isn't there? it's possible that Will's friends will find them, and then he's certain that something interesting would come of it. (he doubts they'd blow their cover so boldly, though.)
he can feel Will's hands searching along his uniform for something – either to grip or to start removing, and he smiles in the kiss, because he falls so easily into it. they both do. this is as reckless on Louis' part as it is on Will's, perhaps more so, if Fidelio were to be heard. where they differ is while Will questions the pleasure, Louis does not care.
standing over Will, Louis lowers, just a bit, to pull back from the wet kiss and part his lips at the thin line of exposed skin just beneath his collar. ]
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Even so, he is undeterred. His appetites are fresher and more avaricious than ever. Will's fingers finally remember how to take Louis's clothing apart; he wants to work at the buttons across Louis's chest, pull them apart to reveal inches of alabaster skin and perfectly sculpted marble, but he's learned from past experience that the man does not seem to favor having his body exposed, so Will chooses instead to work at his own buttons. As Louis mouths at him, he loosens the collar of his jacket, then pulls it off his shoulders, surrendering his body for the man's exploration, his investigation, his use.
A spy, caught in his betrayed lord's bedroom — stripping for forgiveness, falling on seduction to save him. It would be poignant if Will were not so willing. The truth is, he doesn't know if he's trying to save the mission, or only trying to indulge himself. Louis is so intensely demanding, so pleasurable to please. Will lets his coat drop to the ground; he buries his nose in the man's hair.
He always, always smells so good. Somehow not of anything in particular, no foreign or artificial scent, but sort of woodsy, sort of green. Warm, in the way that washed linens are. Will always feels so comforted in Louis's embrace. As if he's somehow familiar, but then, Will can't fathom why that should be so. ]
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all that's left is the black shirt, and Louis is devilish and wanting, firm and direct in his desires when he traces a thumb over a nipple through the fabric, teasing it until he can feel the shape under his clothing.
Will wanted to talk about the book, but not enough to interrupt the next kiss. they have time, but neither enough to dawdle before they're summoned back to the party – and Will, well, he has a mission to complete. Louis has an idea, though he may not fully know the extent, and certainly does not care. he's not the perpetrator of the crime that center of the group's intent, and there's nothing in the Charadrius that would implicate him. despite that, he's certain that they'll keep looking, and he wonders if Will may begin to question certain rumors taken as truths, but that remains to be seen.
when Will leans forward, Louis slips an arm just under his hips, lifting him up off his feet how they've both accustomed themselves to it. there's a thrill at the idea of taking Will up against the bookshelf, but he could also have him anywhere. the plush, red chair that Louis loves to lounge in so much is not far, and he settles himself lavishly in it with Will on his lap.
Louis is in the race to be king, though his ambitions reach further than just ruling. however, in a moment like this, he does feel like royalty with Will on his lap. ]
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Will is already hard and aching in his pants by the time Louis settles him into that beautiful armchair, and the man's gorgeous lap. He knows he shouldn't be so lascivious, that Louis may not even like the idea of him being so whorish and wanton, but he can't help himself; he grinds his cock into the man's groin, as if desperate to signal his eagerness, and how badly he wants this. The one comfort he tells himself is that Louis has always liked it when he's bold.
Will boldness win him the truth? Can boldness save the prince's life? If nothing else, he can admit that he wants to satisfy Louis. Craving sex with Louis may very well be the only selfish thing Will has wanted in his short life. ]
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like a big cat, Louis leans back in his seat as Will presses into him. whenever the two of them part, he's never aware of his own loneliness, but it seems to show up again when Will spreads his legs over his lap and reminds him how beautiful affection can be. it scares him, in a way, but not enough that he won't face it – or perhaps he doesn't want to deny the pleasure. (later, he'll send Will away.) he cups Will's cheek in his hand, tracing his thumb over his parted lips. his breath is light, and his mouth is sweet.
with an arm he draws him in, takes his hip his hand and drags him down as Will grinds against him, letting the movement roll through his body. his breath comes in long, fills his chest and comes out in a hah of warmth. ]
You're already ready.
[ there's a playful cadence to his voice, as playful as someone like Count Louis can have, but it's there nonetheless. ]
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[ He feels as though he's going mad. Something about Louis is surely driving him mad, urging him onward, towards pleasure, and towards the loss of all reason. It's more than the pleasure that he feels in his own body; it's wanting that pleasure to course through Louis, too. It's the way he takes satisfaction in hearing Louis's breath catch in his throat and come out in a half-laugh, one that reminds Will in an intoxicating way that the man is only mortal, and even he can be caught, killed, seduced, defiled.
(Of all the possibilities, Will doesn't know which one he wants more.)
Will himself breathes out hard, too, letting himself sink further into debauchery. Seeking support and someplace to put his weight, he places one hand, daringly, over the curve of Louis's left breast. Squeezes it. Imagines what it would be like to sink his hand into that chest, and tear his heart out.
And yet — somehow, before that, and against all reason, Will thinks that he'd like to ride Louis's cock, and make him taste heaven instead.
The young elda lowers his mouth and claims Louis's lips again, licking delicately into his mouth, all tantalizing wetness, grazing his teeth along the man's bottom lip as he pulls away. ]
I'm always ready, the second I feel your hands on me...
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is that it – is the accomplished Count Louis Guiabern the prey to this kind hearted elda boy? wouldn't that be something?
Louis takes the wrist of the hand on his chest as if in challenge, keeping his gaze locked with Will's until they're connected again. it's warmth and teeth this time, a messy wetness that feels tainted. when Will pulls back, Louis draws his arm up and takes him closer to the elbow, drags him in again and clicks his teeth together. ]
Come, then. I will put my hands everywhere.
[ from his wrist to his elbow, and then from his elbow to hooked beneath his shoulder. he won't allow Will to go far. long fingers find their way under his shirt, dance just up his spine as he urges their hips together. there's a quiet hum in his throat when they grind together, as Will isn't the only one who's already ready. ]
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Maybe thinking that is only proof that Louis is the one who's driven him crazy instead.
Still. He feels no shame, or at least, he's forgotten what shame should feel like. He lets Louis's long fingers dance over his body; he even sits back and pulls his shirt off of his own volition, as if to signal exactly how eager he is, or perhaps how desperate. Then he's on top of Louis again, kissing him fiercely, all appetite and dizzying lust for such a small thing.
In all the times they've coupled, this might be the first time Will has been the one to be so hungry. He rubs his groin against Louis's until he feels the man fully at attention, even laughs a little when he takes stock of just how big and thick his lord is; shirtless and stripped bare, he rocks his hips the way some men ride horses, only this time the beast beneath him is none other than Louis Guiabern, and he, the nameless elda boy, acts as if he's come to claim his prize. ]
Everywhere...?
[ He acts so innocent, even when he's being so sinful. Deliciously delicate, impossibly slim, Will leans back in a way that makes his hips look more curvaceous than ever, then takes hold of the hand that isn't dancing up his spine, placing Louis's large palm firmly over the bulge between his legs, as if to promise him that he has a gift waiting for him there. ]
Even here?
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with his shirt off and no barrier between Louis' hands and Will's body, he finds the spaces he seems to love to trace: the curve of his waist, the plump shape of his rear, his thumb in the dip of his spine until he can feel the little hairs on his body stand on end. he is enamored as much as he first saw him when he defied the church, his eyes on him just as insistently as his hands. ]
You're getting impatient.
[ where he was once lounging, Louis sits up just slightly, leaning forward in to Will who's getting so deliciously eager. he rubs his cock through his pants, finding the shape of it much like he found the shape of other parts of Will's body. he's soft, responsive, and Louis can tell that he desires something deeper (so flagrantly stripping and mewling, as if a heat had arisen in him). the hand that was once at his spine presses against down against his ass, urging him to thrust into his hand, even with the fabric between them.
Louis is close enough that there's a hot, panting breath that matches Will's movements, one that says he may be imagining what Will is – the other elda on top of him, riding him with a growing sense of urgency. as if to tasting him in preparation to devour him, Louis drags his tongue from between his pecs and up his throat. ]
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So are you...
[ The hand on his lower back, between his legs — the hands in his sensitive, intimate places only drive Will's want to blazing heights. But, coquettishly, he refuses to touch Louis in turn. He hears that hot wet breath tinging Louis's voice, he sees the desire dancing in his eyes like sunlight shining through emeralds — but even so. Deliberately, he wants to make Louis ache. ]
And I love to see it.
[ He's never quite sounded like this before. Voice husky, low, seductive. He has one hand on the man's chin as he whispers directly into the shell of Louis's ear, caressing his jawline; he speaks so low and so directly into his lover's eardrum that it's almost as if he's making a conscious effort to tickle Louis's brain. ]
I want to see how you look when someone makes you wait.
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as Will lowers to press down into his hand again, Louis stills him until their eyes align. there are two that can play at this little push and pull, and it seems to light a spark inside of him. he tilts his head, his gaze steady on him, leaning in closer until their foreheads are touching. ]
How long will that be?
[ he asks, his voice heady, the same quiet lust behind the phrase he had uttered early at the party: drink it in. ]
Will you endure long enough for such a prize?
[ deliberately, he runs his thumb up Will's cock, along the length and to where he knows the head to be. there's a slight urgency to his touch now that Will's so close, openly touching his face and brushing against his hair. he's hungry for more of it, coaxing it out of his would-be rival with an enticing challenge of pleasure.
between his legs, his own length aches, trying to pull back and remind him that Will has a very good chance of getting what he wants, and seeing Louis Guiabern fall apart at a single touch. he's not used to it – still, despite their trysts – and thus Will certainly has the upperhand, but Louis has always been a risk taker. perhaps he'll fail, but he will fail in such a blaze that he will drag Will down into the depths of such a beautiful, beautiful sin with him. ]
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He bucks his hips faster into Louis's hand, selfishly chasing his own pleasure — but then Louis cruelly holds his hips still, and Will whines, straining against the man's big palms. He makes such sweet, pleading noises when he's inconvenienced; it's really very funny.
Will leans in, catches Louis's lips with his own. Kissing, so close to begging. Drink it in, Louis had said, but why does Will feel more as though he's the fine wine that's been poured into a goblet for Louis to swirl and toy with before imbibing?
Stubborn, Will still makes no moves to please Louis. But he kisses the man with reckless abandon, leaning into his body, draping both his arms around Louis's shoulders, curtained by the waves of his fine blond hair. He catches Louis's tongue with both his lips, sucking on it in stuttering sweet sloppy motions until he slips off the tip of it, saliva connecting his lip to Louis's.
The man he has sworn to kill looks so good, finally tousled with a slight flush and all the more attractive for it.
Will's eyes lid with utmost desire. ]
...What do you think?
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Will is testing him, but Louis does not want to give him the satisfaction – not yet. in ways his body betrays him, beneath his clothing his nipples rub up against the fabric in a way he doesn't usually notice until they're together, and his pants tighten around his cock. there's a light flush across his cheeks – from the heat, certainly – that looks like he's been posing for an oil painting.
his lips part and he lingers in the feel of the saliva pooling on his tongue, the little strand of fluid that connects the two of them together. drawing it out a little more it snaps before he licks his lips, drawing whatever mixture of it they created into his mouth. ]
You're feeling confident.
[ he says with a low drawl, as if he's caught Will red handed.
as if to tempt him into answering, Louis has already undone the buttons of his trousers, his long fingers inching down to touch what he had clothed. instead he cups his cock and balls in his hand, putting a gentle pressure on him as they play this little game of chicken. ]
How about now?
[ though he knows he's being reckless, much like a battle, he's left his own vulnerabilities open. he may be clothed, but there are sensitive spots that Will has found in their couplings, and he's become good at finding them, given Louis' preference for keeping his uniform on. they're there, behind his ears and down his throat, in the soft waves of his hair now tousled and spilling over his shoulders.
no, they are equal here, as much of a show as Louis puts on. ]
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Even so. Will is not the type who will not launch a counterattack. The young elda surges forward, pressing more kisses to Louis's mouth, less heated this time and more pleading, warm soft sweet needy kisses of the sort that Louis is surely not in any way used to receiving. So warm. How is it that Will always makes him feel desired like this? Treasured, adored, beloved —
Still. Those loving kisses turn into something vicious soon enough. Once Louis's mouth is not enough for him, Will kisses those sensitive spots down his neck, nestled deep where the flaxen waves of his blond hair usually hides his nape from view. His tongue flicks out and laps, kittenish, along responsive skin. His breath is warm and wet and so, so promising. One finger trails from the top of Louis's scalp down the back of his ear, slides down the smooth soft skin along his neck. ]
Just say you want me...
[ He wants to win. He wants Louis to beg.
And yet, by goading him into begging — perhaps Will is the one who is truly pleading, here. ]
Just say you crave me, and I'll be yours.
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he doesn't. it's thrilling to leave the possibility open.
it makes Louis believe that he's truly enjoying himself, despite the mission that Will has – the mission Louis knows Will has. one day one of them will most likely have to die, but he can't say that he isn't fond of him – there could be other options, perhaps. those options he can think of at other times, after this. a world where neither of them die, that haunting, beautiful world that is burned into his brain.
the clasps to the clothing on his collar are pulled open, enough just to give Will a hint of more skin beneath heavy layers of his military uniform so get a taste of it there.
then, as if capturing the moment between a breath, he dances his fingers up the length of Will's cock, rubbing his thumb against the head, as if fulfilling a promise. it's a deliberate, quiet, calculated counter to Will's counter, his hands familiar with the way his partner likes to be touched. the arm around the lovely curve in his back pulls him close, until they're both in suspension, leaning back against the plush chair in his quarters.
his whisper is dark, the words just for them. ]
I hunger for you. When we part, I will long to taste you again.
[ Louis rubs against him in the confines of his pants, along the sensitive tip where his hand is caught between them. the length of his own cock presses against Will's thigh, dragging against him and causing Louis to steady his breath carefully, as if he truly may snap. ]
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It's only a little bit, of course, and he corrects himself immediately, grabbing blindly for purchase along Louis's body; his hand curls around the base of the man's right horn desperately as Will rights himself, guilty of leaning too far forward, wanting nearly to collapse and melt into the lover whom he is either destined to kill or die trying to assassinate. He breathes hard, senses lost momentarily in the tingling thrill of Louis's thumb rubbing devilishly into the sensitive head of Will's cock.
(So much of Will's body feels sensitive, and only ever with Louis. Sometimes he feels as though the man has cast some wicked enchantment upon him; he feels so lost, as though his whole body is tingling with erogenous glee.)
One hand firmly gripping Louis's horn, the other caught between their tangled legs, Will shivers once more, lost in heady arousal, and begins rewarding the Count in earnest. His free hand deftly undoes the fastenings holding Louis's pants together, extracts the man's hot, throbbing cock. So heavy, so thick, so wet with need already. Oh, it makes Will's mouth water. His body feels loose already, even without stimulation, eager to be stretched and filled and wrecked by none other than Louis Guiabern. ]
I... ah, I always hunger for you...
[ He's lost in it already, the sinful weight of sex, even as his left hand grips Louis's hard horn all the more tightly and his right hand rolls up and down Louis's hot cock. ]
Always. All the time. No matter where we are...
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his horns are constructed with convincing precision; the way they attach to his head is more than simply cosmetic, they're real to the touch. it's an artifact from his foster family, one that has kept him from much of the ridicule he'd get as an elda. they've grown with him, and he's gotten used to the weight, how they feel on his head. it's almost as if he really is clemar, as he's even adjusted the way that he moves in a space with them on.
they're even weathered in ways that have seen some battle, a little nick or scratch, one color fading into another into darker colors as if they had once been smaller. at the base they're soft, like fine fabric, the hairs on his head even adjusting to them. Louis never thought of them more as a means to his glamour, and hadn't spent time touching them or allowing anyone else to do so. with such confidence Will grabs them, alerts all the sleeping nerves at the base in a rapturous frenzy in a way he didn't know was possible. he can feel the electricity crawl down his spine from Will's fingertips. ]
Ah ...
[ his breath shakes, and the curse that may have been on his lips doesn't even make it past them. Will gets the low moan that he was hoping for, the sound woven into his deep breaths.
Will's got his horn in one hand, tugging at his head, the other working along his length. in their lovemaking, this is the first time he's felt somewhat defeated. he's being handled by Will so expertly. when did he get so good at this – is it a preview of things to come? there's something attractive about that, too. the hand tucked into Will's pants stills, grabs onto the hem as if he's desperate for something to hold onto, his knuckles tight. ]
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To think an accident got him this far! In all their previous trysts, Will wouldn't have even dreamed of grabbing Louis's horns and jerking his head back like he was some common cow to be wrangled. Now, though — now that he's seen what this does to Louis, and how pleasing it feels beneath his palm, warmer than he thought it would be and velvety across the hard surface — the young elda feels empowered to keep going. He adjusts his grip on Louis's horn, bewildered for a moment, and then triumphant, like a wolf in the night scenting blood. ]
You like this...?
[ Yes, Louis likes this — that much is clear from how he shuddered and his breath is shaking in his mouth. Will wants to see more. It doesn't even matter that Louis isn't touching him anymore; Will likes that, takes it as a sign that what he's doing is just that good. He drags his nails over the surface of the horn he's been touching, and then — when he notices that Louis seems most sensitive closest to his scalp, where there must be nerves anchoring the appendages to his head — aggressively rubs the velvet at the base. At the same time, his other hand rubs Louis's cock, the soft hot head, the warm veins through his shaft.
Louis is so beautiful like this, with a haze of lust dulling those vivid turquoise-blue eyes. His lovely white skin flushes such a brilliant red when stimulated. He wants to make Louis jolt again. ]
So cute... oh, Louis...
[ He sounds so fond. The impossibly sweet chastisement of a lover: Oh, Louis, Louis. I didn't know you were keeping such a secret from me. ]
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some part of him wanted this. for Will to trip him and sweep him up, either with a blade, or like this, stroking his cock and rubbing his horns until Louis shudders. he was reckless, deliberately reckless, and now he's caught in a spiral of pleasure. Will is bold enough to take this opportunity, center himself and run with it.
Louis can already feel his body tensing and shuddering from the dual stimulation, the head of his cock slick as Will milks more precum from the tip. if Will keeps it up, he realizes that he could – and will – come from this alone. he's not certain he'd even be able to swallow it down, no, he feels as if there's a dam inside him cracking, with a great flood behind it.
he sets a hand on Will's shoulder, but doesn't remove his hands his horns. it seems that he's managing to find his words, at least. ]
Take off the rest of your clothes.
[ he wants a fully naked Will, at the very least. it may give him a moment of reprieve.
there's a light flush in his cheeks, one he looks good with, his hair curling around his face, tousled a bit from the combination of Will's hands and his own sudden breaths. ]
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But — he relents. For a number of reasons, chief among them the fact that he knows this upper hand is one that won't be relinquished. So the great and mighty Lord Louis likes having his horns touched. Who would have thought that Count Louis Guiabern, the infallible, could be brought so low by an elda's touch?
(That's what Will should think, at least — so why is it that when he looks into his heart, he feels mostly fondness for the man who has ruined everything?)
Will pulls back, smiling viciously, like an enemy combatant that has sensed weakness. But still — still, he slides out of Louis's lap, if only to give himself some space to pull his clothing off. ]
Your will be done, Lord Louis.
[ The obeisance is nearly sarcastic. Will strips, slowly pulling his coat and shirt off, first, unhurried and teasing — and then his pants, those skintight leggings that do nothing to hide the lines of his legs from view. He's softer than one would expect, their odd-eyed elda; it's as if his entire body is open to Louis's touch, was made for him specifically.
When ever last inch of his skin is revealed, and his hard cock is bared for Louis's enjoyment, Will crawls back into Louis's lap again. At least that short, deliberate striptease gave him a sort of reprieve — or maybe it didn't at all. ]
Are you satisfied...?
[ He's teasing. Brat. ]
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it does give him a brief moment or relief as Will pulls back from his horns and his cock, at least enough that he can collect himself. he has time to rearrange his expression, allow a sigh to escape his lungs and shake his head until his hair falls in tufts around his cheeks. that is something that he did not expect – thrilling, perhaps, but still unexpected.
Louis does get to settle back, letting his gaze rest on Will and each movement that's meant as a display. he knows full well that this is meant for him, and Louis indulges himself in watching this private show, unabashedly watching each article of clothing get stripped and tossed to the floor. the shape of Will's body seems to fascinate him, and he watches as if he's memorizing where his limbs connect, the soft curves that melt together, and the angles of his slim figure. as Will's clothes come off, he absently reaches down to take his length in his hand, stroking slowly to keep the stimulation as he watches. ]
For now.
[ a sleeved arm slips around Will's middle as he tangles his legs back onto his lap. he's collected enough of himself to look put-together and satisfied again, even if Will got a brief glance of his pleasure-addled expression.
tipping Will's chin up, Louis kisses him. ]
Savor your victories.
[ he says lowly, taking Will's ass in his hands and tilting him forward until their hips are pressed together tightly, and he can enjoy the friction as they rub together. ]
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He's resting his hands on the man's shoulders for the moment, letting his body rock with each of Louis's friction-chasing thrusts, and he's so pretty, parting his lips to pant slightly with each thrust. There's no mistaking the way his mismatched eyes flick upward to Louis's horns every now and then, though; it's not a matter of if he's going to touch Louis's horns again, but when. ]
I don't have to savor them if I've already won.
[ Will's voice is so, so confident, like this. So triumphant, now that he knows exactly what Louis looks and sounds and feels like when he's drowning in pleasure, needy in a way that no one else has ever seen him.
As he rubs and rides and slides against Louis's cock, Will places a gentle, loving hand on his jawline, teasing: ]
I can make you come whenever I want.
[ Oh, it's a challenge, in that tone of voice. This pretty little elda boy — he wants a war. ]
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(some part of him thinks that it's possible to still convince Will – this elda boy, who had been hurt in much of the same way that he had – that the world needs remaking. that strength is the true test of fate. they could live together like that, couldn't they? basking in their strength as the world falls apart.)
there's a breathy, hot laugh that escapes his lips in puffs of air. ]
I won't fall for the same trick twice. Though I am curious if there's anything else you've got up your sleeve.
[ his breath hitches, but he still seems somewhat amused. long fingers close around Will's wrist, and he turns, holding his wrist behind him, forcing him forward. that's one less hand to grab his horns with, and gives Louis leeway in their current position. though Will also looks good like this, slightly arched forward with his shoulders pulled back, his ass dragging against his thighs.
leaning in, Louis gets close to his ear until his breath tickles the hairs there. ]
If I were to take you now, would you consider that winning?
[ if Will worked Louis up enough with his challenge for him to respond in turn? despite his confidence, Louis takes their cocks with his other hand, giving a single, deliberate, hard stroke in response to the provocation. ]
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[ Will's breath catches in his throat as Louis twists his arm behind his back, forcing his spine to arch in just the way the man seems to like. He didn't quite expect Louis to escalate things so high, take this competition of theirs so seriously; abruptly, a thrill of fear shoots through Will's spine as he suddenly remembers just how dangerous this position is, how brazenly he's been playing with fire, teasing Louis Guiabern as if the man isn't mad enough to run him through with a blade if given the right provocation.
(Is that true, though? Sometimes Louis looks at him like he's special. Treats him like he's special. Sometimes, Will dares to think that he means something. Other times, he has to remind himself of how dangerous it would be to mean anything to Count Louis Guiabern.) ]
Hah... [ A breathless laugh. ] Why don't you take me and find out?
[ He could still touch Louis's horn with his free hand, despite all proclamations of not falling for the same trick twice, but Will only moves his hand to caress the man's obscenely beautiful face instead, gazing heatedly into his gorgeous long-lashed eyes.
What else does Will have up his sleeve? Nothing, nothing whatsoever — save for those large, soulful eyes of his, mismatched but deep in color, speaking of infinite love and infatuation. Only Will ever looks at Louis like this — like he isn't an untouchable ideal or a ruthless warmonger to be feared so much as a soft, sweet thing that would never hurt him, no matter how his wrist is twisted behind his back in the moment.
Any man in Euchronia could get on his knees for Louis, suck him off, take him willingly, ride him until he comes — but only Will can look this sweet, wide-eyed and loving, with lips that have drunk of the sweet, too-thick air of that sacred forest grove that lies in ashes at the bottom of Louis's heart. ]
Take me. Claim me. Make me yours.
[ Oh, he knows he's lying, but it feels so good to lie. Perhaps Louis even knows that he's lying. The Count can never claim him so long as he professes in his own mad belief that he can create a world where strength dominates above all else — but wouldn't it be nice to think for a moment that Will was something he could conquer? ]
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