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 Posted: Wed May 14, 2014 11:17 pm
He wondered if he'd disappointed Harland.
The way back to Deus was spent in silence, with the occasional murmured comment here and there; just mere trivialities, casual conversation to fill the space that had grown between them since leaving Ireland. Alistaire cast surreptitious glances at Harland every few feet, as though trying to gauge his reactions, trying to figure out what lay beneath the calm face that he put on.
Harland had asked for a simple kiss on the cheek and Alistaire had said no. Surely he was angry. Or disappointed, or perhaps none of these things.
Perhaps he'd given up on him.
Alistaire didn't know whether to feel disappointed or relieved.
They reached the dorms and went inside, still in silence; though now it was a wary kind of silence, Alistaire automatically checking for anyone still awake. But the trainee hall was empty and Alistaire reached his room without incident, fumbling for his keys. He unlocked the door, and then hesitated as it swung open.
Wordlessly, he stepped aside for Harland to step in and then closed the door again once he had, Alistaire backing up until his back was against the closed door and he was standing in front of Harland his cheeks slowly becoming more and more flushed. His heart seemed to be in his throat, his stomach churning with nervous anxiety.
"Go ahead," he said quietly. "Kiss me."
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Posted: Wed May 14, 2014 11:56 pm
He hadn't given up. Harland didn't ever give up. He was just very, very patient, and largely very calm. It might seem like indifference, or disappointment, but he was mostly just tired and patient. It had been a long, exciting evening. He would have reassured Alistaire, but he was enjoying their walking together so much; he was silent not out of a newfound disinterest, but because he was just living in the moment. Harland didn't much feel the need to fill every silence.
Harland didn't bother being wary, either; to anyone from the outside, it would just look like two Trainees, walking. They weren't being affectionate, they weren't holding hands, they weren't even saying anything important that could be overheard.
He just carried on being Harland.
He stepped into the room, and smiled at Alistaire. He slid his free hand up, cradling Alistaire's jaw in his calloused, square fingers just momentarily so that he could gently apply pressure to tilt Alistaire's face, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "Good night, Alistaire," he said, "Thank you for accompanying me in public."
Harland took a step back, and attempted to move Alistaire away from the door so that he could escape around him. "I look forward to future dates," he said, with a sunny smile.
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Posted: Thu May 15, 2014 12:12 am
He was worried, terrified that he was doing something he should be doing. The fear that crept over him was like the flush that spread out over his neck and his cheeks, making his neck and his ears red. They were in the relative safety of his own room, which meant that there was no one to walk by and see, which made things marginally easier, but didn't stop the way his stomach twisted.
Harland's hand was warm and large; his calloused fingers slid along Alistaire's jawline and he was frozen in place, unable to move, unable to even back away or do anything more than allow Harland to tilt his head upwards. A gentle brush of lips - warm, thought Alistaire dizzily - and then Harland had let go and stepped back, smiling at him as he always did.
How could he always have that smile on his face? He had already been introduced to the kind of man that Alistaire was, and yet he kept on with that smile and that kindness and that optimism, like there was no other person in the world but him.
It was terrifying and confusing and the warmth was almost overpowering him now.
Alistaire reached out, snaked a hand beneath the fringe of Harland's scarf and curled his fingers around his tie. With a sharp pull, he yanked him forward, stumbling so that his back hit the door with a thud, Harland coming with him; and their faces were so close he could feel Harland's breath against his lips, Alistaire's mouth slightly open, his breathing labored. There was a dizzy expression on his face, his eyes flickering first from Harland's mouth and then up to his gunmetal green eyes. His fingers were still wrapped tightly around Harland's tie, anchoring him in place.
He couldn't think straight anymore, his thoughts a mess because Harland was driving him crazy with this absurd optimism and his endless affectionate comments and how could such a person even exist in this world Alistaire couldn't figure out.
"I said kiss me, Harland," he whispered. "Kiss me the way you want to kiss me."
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Posted: Thu May 15, 2014 12:36 am
Every gesture, no matter how small, constantly set off alarm bells in Harland's head: he didn't want to push Alistaire, didn't want to take anything that couldn't be freely given, didn't want to corner him. Harland had as much time as he had, any time after that didn't matter; the point of it was he could wait as long as he needed to, because once he couldn't wait any more it wouldn't matter if he'd never won out.
If you pushed Harland in the right way, found the things that hurt him, he wouldn't keep smiling. Alistaire had had opportunities, whether or not they had occurred to him just yet: when he'd confessed his mother had blamed him for her death, that was a tool. Harland was patient, but he wasn't perfect; the tiniest hint that his mother had been right, and he would lose his cool.
As far as Harland lost his cool, which was usually just to leave and calm down, and assess the damage done. But at least if Alistaire wanted him to stop smiling like that, it was that simple. He just had to hurt him.
Harland did not expect the force with which Alistaire pulled on his tie, yanking him forward. The feel of breath on his lips, the fingers wrapped around Harland's tie, they were driving him crazy. He was trying very hard not to let his tense stomach press against Alistaire's, bracing himself against the door with one planted hand to maintain enough distance that he could at least pretend to be respectable.
At least until he was given the instruction to kiss him the way he wanted to. Harland pushed hard against the door, trying to get some space from Alistaire, his expression steely though it was not hostile. "I kiss you exactly the way I want to, because I kiss you when you're comfortable with it, and how you're comfortable. I don't want it any different from that, and I never will," he corrected Alistaire, as best he could.
It was serious. It was really serious, to Harland Leander Belle; he didn't take things just because he wanted them. Instead of kissing him, Harland tried to lean his forehead against Alistaire's cheek, pressing hard; his expression was locked somewhere between hurt and desperate. "It's not about touchin' you, Alistaire. It's about bein' with you, an' I'll do everythin' in my power to make sure that when I'm with you, you're not sick or tense. It's about easin' your burden, not contributin," he whispered, his voice rough. He tried to lean away, again, to look Alistaire in the eye. His mouth tilted up again, but the smile didn't quite reach his eyes.
"I want to kiss you-- every time I look at you, I want to kiss you so much I think I might burst into flame an' descend the stairs to hell where I stand-- don't misunderstand me," he tried to explain, his voice even softer still. "But I'm not goin' to just... It's not goin' to mean nothing," he finished, feeling helpless by the end. "I want to be there when you're overwhelmed, and when you need help; when you're happy, when you're hopeful; I want to be there when you're lost an' you don't know what's up anymore-- I want to be there to pull you out of the dark, when you can't see your light," he said, desperate to explain why he'd pulled away so quickly and aggressively.
None of that made sense, did it? He just couldn't seem to express accurately that he both desperately wanted to kiss Alistaire and wouldn't, unless it became completely clear that he would only kiss Alistaire how he wanted to be kissed-- and when, and likely where. Harland wasn't into bullying. He wasn't into taking. Not from Alistaire. One more time, he tried: "Since the second I kissed you that night, I've wanted to kiss you again, feel that again."
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Posted: Thu May 15, 2014 6:31 am
Harland wasn't leaning against him, for which Alistaire was both grateful and ungrateful, a conflicting set of emotions that made him frustrated with both Harland and himself because he couldn't understand them, couldn't decipher which way was up and which was down anymore. But Harland's face was so close to his, their breaths mingling, and all Harland had to do was lean a little closer - all Alistaire had to do was tilt his head upwards a few inches and he could feel that warmth on his lips again.
Except Harland was trying to pull away; his hand was on the door, bracing himself from moving closer, and Alistaire felt the tie in his hands slipping a little. He stared blankly, dumbfounded by Harland's lack of continuation, and tightened his grip on his tie, refusing to let go and let him move farther away.
"I thought you wanted me," Alistaire ground out between gritted teeth. His heart was pounding in his chest, his stomach twisting with anxiety and the thrill of panic ebbing up his spine. "Going on and on about how everything tonight was for me, that you spent all this time making sure I had a good time because you wanted me, you wanted this," he growled, and his head slanted up, just a little, his lips skimming over Harland's, though it could hardly count as a kiss at all, just the faintest brush of their mouths together. "I thought you wanted me."
The humiliation of the rejection stung. Alistaire blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of everything, trying to understand the shift from one thing to the next, and it didn't make sense, because for the first time he'd wanted to kiss Harland, wanted to press closer and greedily take some of that warmth for himself, and now Harland was saying he didn't want to.
Alistaire hated himself.
Harland shifted, moving forward, and Alistaire's breath hitched in his throat - but Harland did not continue the kiss, instead pressing his forehead against Alistaire's cheek, and Alistaire just stood there, frozen in place, his eyes wide. He could feel the rhythmic beating over his own heart against his ribs, the way his fingers had started to tremble where they gripped Harland's tie; and how could he be saying these things? How could there truly exist someone like this in the world?
Harland's mouth was near his neck; he could feel his breath on his skin before he pulled back, and his expression was nowhere near the calm, cheerful control that Alistaire was so used to seeing. Instead it was something else; a raw desperation, and Alistaire felt fire across his face, his cheeks burning.
"I'm not much of a poet," Harland had said, and that was a lie.
"I want to kiss you," he was saying now, and Harland couldn't tell if this was a lie too, because the words were pretty, and they were lyrical, each one sending thrills of mingled panic and longing shooting through Alistaire. His back was to the door, straight against it, and his heart was beating so loud that he could hardly stand it.
I don't know anything anymore.
Figure me out figure you out figure all of it out figure us out nothing makes sense I don't know anything anymore why no no no yes I want what's happening why don't you want me I want that warmth again give it to me no I don't want it stay away
"You think I want this?" he half shouted, half snarled angrily, fingers tightening, and they were shaking so violently he had stopped trying to control them now. "You think I want to feel this messed up inside, because that's all I feel. I can't - you make me crazy and I can't understand that and I can't understand you. Everything you do confuses me and this - this disability of mine just makes things worse because I can't stop it and I can't figure you out."
He pressed his fingers into Harland's tie. "You and your ******** self have completely messed me up."
His thoughts were a mess and every part of Harland's presence was driving him crazy. His breath was coming out in short gasps now, Alistaire rapidly losing control of his own senses.
"Then feel it," he snapped, desperate to understand, and he surged forward at the same time that he yanked on Harland's tie again, and his mouth covered Harland's, Alistaire's sharp intake of breath muffled by his lips pressed firmly, roughly, clumsily against Harland's. One of his gloved hands pulled away from the tie, shakily fumbling for the hem of Harland's shirt.face your demons omg I edited this post like 234234 times I'm so sorry
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Posted: Thu May 15, 2014 9:45 am
Harland heard the gritted words with accompanying lances of pain: I thought you wanted me. Every word cut him a little more, the tone razing the part of him he'd shared with Alistaire and no one else in a long time. He'd tried so hard to explain he did want him, he tried so hard to tell him how he felt, and instead he listened to Alistaire growl displeasure at him, graze his lips over Harland's.
Harland felt his stomach hitch, and not in a good way. The muscles in his jaw flexed hard, and his brows pressed down. This wasn't respect. It wasn't affection. It was nothing good. Harland didn't deal in this, whatever it was. He wanted to help Alistaire, but he wouldn't become this. He didn't say anything at all, he couldn't; his throat was constricted with frustration, anger, disappointment.
If only Alistaire had understood he wasn't trying to say he didn't want him, but that the motivation was important. The way they took from each other was important. Always add more than you took away, or you would use up everyone you loved. He never thought of himself as a poet, that much was true, but with his upbringing he had hardly escaped what was considered an old Irish gift with words. Desperation and pain seemed to bring that out in him.
The more cornered he felt, the harder it was to keep it together. Harland could feel Alistaire's heart beating heavy under him, the same as his own heart beat furiously in his chest. Harland's tie was likely still stuck in Alistaire's fist, despite the snarling that followed. He went to try to say something, but Alistaire was still ranting at him. He felt his eyes grow hot and damp, the pain in his throat and stomach twofold.
"I'm sorry," was all he could manage, through the constriction of his throat and the weight in his chest. Harland felt like a kid again, helpless. He wasn't this person any more: he didn't reach over rooftops for anyone plunging to their death, he didn't stand at his mother's funeral alone and cry, he didn't write letters to people who were gone. He was strong, he was calm.
His cheeks were wet. Harland didn't move away from the kiss, but he couldn't kiss him back, either. "Can't feel it when you're yelling at me about how I make you worse," Harland whispered, as soon as he could breathe again, as soon as he could pull his mouth away from Alistaire's long enough to speak.
"Why are you in such a hurry? I'll be here until we can sort out the mess in your head, but I won't perpetuate it," Harland whispered, and by this point he was definitely crying, as much as he was hiding it.
"I need you to believe that I want you, because I do, and even if you don't understand why, I do," Harland growled, pushing his body against Alistaire's into the door before easing off on the pressure. He wasn't going to be bullied, no.
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Posted: Thu May 15, 2014 10:07 am
He heard the apology dimly, the blood rushing to his head; and Alistaire knew, somewhere, that this was not right, that Harland's good nature and his kind heart would only go so far before they weren't enough - because Alistaire himself didn't believe that the kindness should extend as far as him. No one else had ever shown him the amount of affection and dedication that Harland had, which could mean only one thing.
That it wasn't real. That it had been a lie all along.
The forced kiss was clumsy and not at all graceful, not at all tender and soft like their first had been. One of Alistaire's shaking hands was still wrapped around Harland's tie, and the other had tugged Harland's shirt up enough for him to slide his gloved fingers along Harland's hip.
He tasted salt and water and froze.
Harland was crying.
It was this and this alone that made Alistaire draw back, his eyes wide with shock. He hadn't said that Harland had made him worse but...or maybe he had implied it with the torrent of words that had escaped his throat, half shouted in anger and frustration, a desperate and raw edge laced with the terribly humiliating kiss he had just tried to force on him.
Harland pushed forward abruptly and Alistaire's head hit the back of the door with a thud, his hands slipping away from under Harland's shirt, a stunned expression on his face. The grip on Harland's tie loosened, but he didn't let go, wondering if he did if Harland would leave and he'd be alone again.
"I..." he said and then stopped, his voice hoarse. Finally he found his voice again and said roughly, the words stumbling over one another, "You don't make it worse. You make it different, and I don't - I don't always know how to handle that. You drive me crazy because all I want to do is feel that ******** warmth of yours but I can't - I can't because I'm - I'm too - I'm not a good person, but yet you stay with me anyway and you say all these things and I don't understand it but I also don't understand wanting to kiss you and everything is a mess inside of my head because of you, but it's not...it's not worse because of you, it's different."
He could feel the pounding of his own heart in his ears, and he remembered the warmth of Harland's hand in his own, the heat of his body so close to his, the radiant smile when he was feeling particularly affectionate, and it was nearly overwhelming. The panic was still there, heavy in his chest, the anxiety riddling him, but Alistaire lifted his other hand, sliding it around Harland's tie alongside his other and tugging him forward again, gently this time. They were back to being only a few inches apart now, but not touching, Alistaire's head spinning.
"I want you to want me," he whispered, and the words frightened him. He forced them out anyway, lifting a gloved hand and covering his own face, his voice raw. "I want..."
He didn't know anymore.
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Posted: Thu May 15, 2014 10:47 am
It wasn't a lie, Harland just happened to be specifically tailored for this, without ever having meant to be-- he always believed in good, even when it was irresponsible; no, especially when it was irresponsible. He was patient, he was smart, he cared. Alistaire had so much buried in him that Harland felt was brilliant, but it was up to Alistaire to understand that.
It was going to be very hard going, Harland would suspect.
His skin shivered in response when Alistare moved his shirt to slide gloved fingers along his hip. It was a great feeling, if only Harland wasn't so deeply unhappy at the moment. As Alistaire's head hit the door, Harland dropped the package and the box onto the floor and reached up one hand to slide between his head and the door, so that it wouldn't happen again, his fingers through Alistaire's hair. "Are you hurt? I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," Harland said, the anger flooding out of him as he listened to Alistaire try to explain what he'd said earlier.
Harland didn't know what to say, or do; he wanted to tell Alistaire that he believed in the good in him, but it would sound so hollow to just put it like that. Instead, he relaxed his body again, jaw muscles easing, brows unforrowing. The gentle look was back on his face. He moved with Alistaire, instead of resisting him."Alistaire," Harland began, finding his voice but still unable to say anything meaningful, "I would like to kiss you, if you would still let me." Harland leaned his head against Alistaire's gloved hand, and slid the hand not cradling Alistaire's head down to where the hand gripped his tie, fingers closing around it gently as if to say It's alright, we're in this together.
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Posted: Thu May 15, 2014 11:06 am
He hadn't really felt his head hitting the door, too preoccupied with his own messed up head and his own messed up feelings to notice that there was now a small bruise forming beneath his hair. It throbbed a little, but he didn't care, his chest so tight he could scarcely breathe properly.
Alistaire ignored the question about being hurt and instead focused on the fact that Harland had moved closer, his hand at the back of his head, and it sent thrills of simultaneous panic and warmth spreading throughout Alistaire's body. He couldn't see Harland's face anymore, obscured by his own hand over his eyes, but he could hear the steadiness back in his voice, the gentle calm that he had started to associate with him.
The request - not forceful, not done out of pity - made him shiver. He felt pressure against his hand and knew that Harland was leaning close to him again, could feel strong fingers wrapping around his own and holding gently.
Let everything go.
Don't think, for once, don't think.
His mind was already in pieces.
Slowly Alistaire lowered his hand, and his cheeks were flushed red, and though he wasn't crying, there was an almost strange brightness to them. He said nothing; no acceptance, no denial of Harland's request, but instead wordlessly lifted his shaking hand, sliding his fingers around the back of Harland's neck.
Let yourself go.
His other hand released Harland's tie, moving to Harland's shoulder, curling in the fabric of his vest and holding on tightly and then he was pressing his entire body against Harland's, raising himself up to kiss him again. Only this time, it wasn't forceful, but tentative, starting out as just something simple, a cautious press of their lips together.
He drew back just enough to see Harland's face, the blush spread over his cheeks as he waited for him to make the next move. He was still trembling, but hadn't backed away, still pressed close.
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Posted: Thu May 15, 2014 11:30 am
This. This was what Harland had wanted so badly, this was the Alistaire he had become so enamoured with. The one he was sure he'd do anything for. Harland sucked in a shaking breath as Alistaire's fingers slid around the back of his neck.
He didn't need to be held in place by his tie, any more. He wasn't trying to push away, wasn't trying to do anything other than control his urge to fit their bodies together, press into every curve and angle. Harland smiled as Alistaire raised to kiss him in a sort of tentative way.
Harland had that glowing smile back again. He was beyond happy, again-- He was so happy he didn't know how to deal with it, but he was very excited to try. Harland leaned his face in slowly, angling so that he could press his lips to Alistaire's, parting his mouth just slightly, his soft lower lip full against Alistaire's and then sliding down. He lingered, warm, feeling Alistaire's heartbeat and chest-- then pulled away, only to do it again, and a third time if Alistaire allowed, each kiss becoming more urgent, more insistent. He was breathing heavily, and bright red-- he wanted Alistaire, with every nerve end on his entire body.
He was so happy that the pain even from moments ago was eased away.
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Posted: Thu May 15, 2014 11:49 am
He was terrified that he was making a mistake, that this would turn out terribly, that everything would fall apart as soon as he touched it, like it always did. But Harland's presence was steady, and the smile was back on his face, replacing his anxious and wounded expression with one of pure joy and radiance. It was momentarily blinding, and Alistaire swayed where he stood. Harland leaned closer, and he forgot to breathe, forgot everything, and then Harland's lips were against his own and they were warm, a gentle pressure. Alistaire's breath hitched in his throat, and a startled sound escaped as Harland pulled away.
Embarrassed, he tried to cover it up, but Harland had already moved back, and Alistaire was swept away again, every rational thought disappearing from his head. The second time was firmer, and the third even more so, Harland's mouth growing insistent to match the frantic beating of Alistaire's heart.
He felt lightheaded. His hands slid around the back of Harland's neck, still trembling, and he drew Harland closer, pressed back against the door to his room. What had started out as a slow exploration of Harland's mouth became a faster one, Alistaire's lips parting against Harland's, and instead of focusing on the rising panic, he focused instead on the warmth, on the warmth and steadiness of Harland in front of him.
He'd never kissed anyone - or been kissed by anyone - like he was doing now in his entire life. It was startling and frightening and confusing and addicting all at once. He tasted wine on his tongue, and he was probably not a good kisser, now that he thought about it, awkward and clumsy and confused.
Alistaire broke away with a gasp, his breathing rapid, entirely unsteady. He stood there for a moment, their faces still so close together their breaths had mingled together and Alistaire's hands were still on the back of Harland's neck, his arms bent against Harland's broad chest.
Close close too close not close enough too close
At least he knew one thing for certain - and that was a selfish greed that ran through him, racing through his veins. Alistaire fought the anxiety in his chest tooth and nail, leaning up to rest his forehead against Harland's. His mouth was burning, wanting to kiss him again, and he pressed his lips to Harland's one more time, speaking mumbled words against them.
"Don't ******** kiss anyone else like that."
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Posted: Thu May 15, 2014 12:52 pm
When they were together, it almost seemed like it was a constant fight: Alistaire's nature versus Harland's, and neither of them were a sure winner. Harland knew that feeling this way about Alistaire was changing him, slowly but profoundly. He hoped it would prove for the better. Harland couldn't form a single coherent thought while Alistaire's mouth was pressed against his own.
If Alistaire was clumsy, Harland wouldn't have noticed; it certainly wasn't the first thought on his mind, regardless. Alistaire tasted better than Harland could have even imagined, and he couldn't help but think of a poem.
We must not look at goblin men,
We must not buy their fruits:
Who knows upon what soil they fed
Their hungry thirsty roots?
His body felt like fire raked through his veins, tore up whatever resolve he had shred by shred. Harland could still barely think, Alistaire's forehead pressed against his own. The more Harland got, the more he wanted, and losing control like this was a completely foreign feeling. "On my word," he agreed, the corner of his mouth tilted into its wicked smile, as he crushed into the kiss holding onto his very last thread of resolve.
And still with that wicked smile that seemed to be the counterpart to the radiant one; the smile that Alistaire, and Alistaire alone, conjured. "I will be yours," he whispered, voice sharp in his throat from trying not to need Alistaire as much as he did right now.
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Posted: Thu May 15, 2014 1:12 pm
He was starting to sound like Ian, dropping curses here and there, but Alistaire pushed the thoughts away, buried them deep. It felt as though the temperature had risen ten degrees in the room, and Alistaire felt all too warm in his long-sleeved dress shirt and vest, his tie too constricting around his neck.
He'd meant to pull away, to try and put some distance between them so that he could think (too warm too warm too warm), but Harland's mouth crushed against his and whatever ideas Alistaire had had about leaving dissipated, heat coursing through his veins. He made a soft sound in the back of his throat, half a growl, half a startled intake of breath, and slowly his hands moved from the back of Harland's neck, sliding until one arm was wrapped around it instead and then his other, until they were both wrapped tightly around Harland's neck and Alistaire was pressed between Harland and the closed door.
too close too close too close
He liked the wicked smile, Alistaire matching it with a smirk of his own that, his lips curving upwards against Harland's. One hand tangled in Harland's hair, gripping the red gold curls, and the sound of his labored breathing was embarrassing now, a red flush spread far and wide over his face, his neck, his ears, and he was drowning in Harland, in nothing but that warmth that was simultaneously terrifying and addicting all at once.
too close too close too close
He broke away with a gasp, his mouth burning, and slowly his arms slid away from Harland's neck until his hands were against his chest. Alistaire stared resolutely at Harland's tie as he tried to catch his breath, and he felt horribly caught off guard, off balance.
He dragged his gaze up to look at Harland.
"I...I'd say that counted as a passable goodnight kiss," he said dizzily, horrified at how breathy and hoarse his voice was. He leaned back against the door, his throat raw. He needed space, he needed distance, he needed not to panic - and he needed to calm down because at present moment he'd never gather his thoughts, not if Harland kept looking at him the way he was, not if Harland kept kissing him the way he was.
Alistaire reached for one of Harland's hands with shaking fingers. His gloves stuck to his palms, slightly damp from sweat, and he pressed his face into Harland's hand, letting him feel the warmth of his face before he turned his head, his lips against his skin.
"I need to sleep," he whispered, closing his eyes as the panic slowly began to ebb, his heart rate slowly returning to normal.
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Posted: Thu May 15, 2014 1:42 pm
It was impossible for Harland to understand, the way that Alistaire got under his skin and made him lose so much of his control. Harland was slow, he was patient, he liked to think everything through-- he didn't press against attractive men late at night, kissing them until he was pretty sure he never wanted to leave.
But he was, now. Alistaire's hand tangling in Harland's hair elicited a pleased sound from deep in Harland's throat, low so that it reverbrated through his skin. "I'll take passable," he said, cheerfully. Harland managed to summon up that last piece of resolve, and as Alistaire pressed his face into his hand and Harland felt Alistaire's lips against his skin, he took a step back, no longer pinning him or pressing his body into Alistaire's.
"We both need to, I suspect," Harland agreed. A very sensible idea.
Not what his body wanted, but his mind would always win out.
"Until we meet again, Alistaire?" Harland asked, his voice soft again, though his face was flushed and ribbons of hair stuck to his hot skin. Harland stooped to pick the packages up off the floor, the dessert probably slightly worse for the wear in its apparently very sturdy container.
He needed to leave, before the urge to press into Alistaire came back again. Harland felt so warm he just wanted to strip layer by layer until he was in his briefs, hover by a window and let the air cool him. And maybe calm his thoughts.
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Posted: Thu May 15, 2014 1:51 pm
Alistaire raked a gloved hand through his own hair as Harland stepped away, letting go of Harland's hand and leaning back against the door. He closed his eyes briefly, inhaling a sharp breath, and smoothed down the front of his vest, tugged his shirt and tie back into their proper place.
Harland's hair was damp and his face was still flushed. Alistaire reached out and absently brushed a few stray strands away from his cheeks, gloved fingers resting briefly on his jaw before they fell away and Alistaire finally moved away from the door so that Harland would actually be able to get out.
"Come by - " His voice caught in his throat, hoarse. Alistaire cleared his throat and tried again.
"Tomorrow," he said, "Evening. I'll be here."
He laid a hand on the door, started to open it, changed his mind, and reached out his free hand, threading his fingers around Harland's tie to pull him down for one last searing kiss. Alistaire pulled away after a few seconds, licking his lips, and there was a smirk on his face as he swung the door wide, not giving Harland a chance to retaliate with another kiss.
"Good night, Mr. Belle."
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