Fic: Noisy-le-Sec, Part II
“I don’t know how I’m supposed to take this damn thing off you!” he hissed through gritted teeth.
“You know, your cloak is not really helping things along either!”
“Damn you!” Athos finally tore the cloak off himself, demonstratively. “Damn you and your pragmatism!” In the meantime, Aramis was extricating himself from his excruciatingly long cassock, which was proving to be even more unwieldy than usual. Finally, there was a pile of clothes at the foot of the bed, and the two men looked at each other as if across an ocean.
“Please,” Aramis said softly.
“You’re still so beautiful,” Athos mumbled with a sense of wonderment.
“Please,” Aramis repeated. “I want you inside me.”
“And I want to kill you,” Athos responded, in the same tone of voice that he would have used before to tell Aramis that he loved him. And, perhaps, it was only the tone of voice and not the actual words that Aramis heard, because he had reached out and pulled the other man on top of himself. Athos straddled the man beneath him and grabbed him by the hair exposing his favorite, tender part of his throat.
“You want my forgiveness?” he hissed again, partly convinced that he was going to rip the man’s throat out with his bare teeth.
“Yes,” the other man moaned beneath him, not resisting the onslaught of violence that seemed imminent.
“Well, you don’t get it!” Athos snapped, pulling harder on the other man’s hair. Keenly aware that he was losing the battle with his own body, he ground his entire weight into the core of the man he held trapped underneath him, and whispered hotly into Aramis’s ear, “I just want you to know that while my cock might forgive you, the rest of me most definitely does not!” With that, Athos attacked the other man’s mouth with feral zeal, which Aramis welcomed, victoriously.
They both felt consumed by a fire that burned them up all too quickly, reducing them to an incomprehensible pile of moans, sweat and flesh. For a few moments, Athos felt like perhaps he had immolated his pain and hatred on the altar of Aramis’s body because a kind of stillness had come over him the like of which he had not felt in years. Lying draped over him, his face tucked once again into the familiar nook of his lover’s neck, Athos felt like he was floating. Long, delicate, beloved fingers were entangled in his hair, and softly massaging the back of his skull. So when he heard Aramis speak those horrible words again, “Please… Oh God… please, please forgive me,” he could no longer control himself, and he wept.
A soft hand gently descended down to his face, to both cradle it and wipe the tears away from his eyes.
“You’re burning up. I think you have a fever,” Athos heard, but did not care anymore whether this was, in fact, the case. The searing pain from before had moved from his joints and had by now taken over his entire body. Then the chills had set in and he started to shake. The ultimate thing he remembered clearly was Aramis’s worried face floating above him like a Botticelli angel and, with the last vestiges of his strength, whispering to this angel, “Don’t… leave me.”
Back to Part 1 or onwards to Part 3
“You know, your cloak is not really helping things along either!”
“Damn you!” Athos finally tore the cloak off himself, demonstratively. “Damn you and your pragmatism!” In the meantime, Aramis was extricating himself from his excruciatingly long cassock, which was proving to be even more unwieldy than usual. Finally, there was a pile of clothes at the foot of the bed, and the two men looked at each other as if across an ocean.
“Please,” Aramis said softly.
“You’re still so beautiful,” Athos mumbled with a sense of wonderment.
“Please,” Aramis repeated. “I want you inside me.”
“And I want to kill you,” Athos responded, in the same tone of voice that he would have used before to tell Aramis that he loved him. And, perhaps, it was only the tone of voice and not the actual words that Aramis heard, because he had reached out and pulled the other man on top of himself. Athos straddled the man beneath him and grabbed him by the hair exposing his favorite, tender part of his throat.
“You want my forgiveness?” he hissed again, partly convinced that he was going to rip the man’s throat out with his bare teeth.
“Yes,” the other man moaned beneath him, not resisting the onslaught of violence that seemed imminent.
“Well, you don’t get it!” Athos snapped, pulling harder on the other man’s hair. Keenly aware that he was losing the battle with his own body, he ground his entire weight into the core of the man he held trapped underneath him, and whispered hotly into Aramis’s ear, “I just want you to know that while my cock might forgive you, the rest of me most definitely does not!” With that, Athos attacked the other man’s mouth with feral zeal, which Aramis welcomed, victoriously.
They both felt consumed by a fire that burned them up all too quickly, reducing them to an incomprehensible pile of moans, sweat and flesh. For a few moments, Athos felt like perhaps he had immolated his pain and hatred on the altar of Aramis’s body because a kind of stillness had come over him the like of which he had not felt in years. Lying draped over him, his face tucked once again into the familiar nook of his lover’s neck, Athos felt like he was floating. Long, delicate, beloved fingers were entangled in his hair, and softly massaging the back of his skull. So when he heard Aramis speak those horrible words again, “Please… Oh God… please, please forgive me,” he could no longer control himself, and he wept.
A soft hand gently descended down to his face, to both cradle it and wipe the tears away from his eyes.
“You’re burning up. I think you have a fever,” Athos heard, but did not care anymore whether this was, in fact, the case. The searing pain from before had moved from his joints and had by now taken over his entire body. Then the chills had set in and he started to shake. The ultimate thing he remembered clearly was Aramis’s worried face floating above him like a Botticelli angel and, with the last vestiges of his strength, whispering to this angel, “Don’t… leave me.”
Back to Part 1 or onwards to Part 3