thewidewideworld | (no subject)

From here

Sinric's room is small, simple. A slightly narrow bed spread with furs, a long free-standing wardrobe and a padded window seat that overlooks the gardens. But what dominates the room is a large baroque harpsichord.

Sinric ducks his head, tucking some stray books away, hair hiding his face shyly. "I'm sorry, I know it's not much."

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From:

i_am_your_host

He takes a deeper swallow, nearly half-draining his glass.

"In my country, some people drink this at breakfast," he remarks with mild amusement, languidly leaning on one hand much like he had done downstairs on the piano bench, his shoulder brushing against Sinric's. "For me, it's an all-day kind of wine. I don't actually drink it all that much, but it's good to know it exists."

As much as Sinric is awkward, Emcee is not. Most of his shyer partners find it a relief that someone in the room isn't.

From:

thewidewideworld

Sinric sips and shakes his head, glad of the casual brush of shoulders to put him at ease. "I always preferred a pale wine for mornings. As often as mornings were something I could face. There was a very dry white wine my master favoured. Mixed with iced pear juice it made a wonderful antidote to the poisons of the night before."

From:

i_am_your_host

"Iced pear juice? Sounds like a divine concoction." He savors another sip, rolling it over his tongue before swallowing.

"As for mornings, I was always more of a creature of the night, anyway," he murmurs, turning his head toward Sinric's ear.

From:

thewidewideworld

The nearness, the scent of wine on Emcee's breath warms him. "I enjoy the dawn. Even if I more often saw it before I had seen my bed." He smiles softly. "Or a bed, anyway."

"Even now, a free man held to no-one's time but my own, I often wake to watch the dawn."

From:

i_am_your_host

"Then that is where you and I are opposites," he says, his lips still close to his skin. "I go to sleep when dawn comes. You are of the light; I am of the shadows. But then again, that is why I think we fit so nicely together..."

From:

thewidewideworld

Sinric's breath catches softly as he sets his glass down. "You shine brighter than you give yourself credit."

He reaches up to brush a hesitant hand over Emcee's arm. "Do you truly feel we fit? Or do you simple flatter me?"

From:

i_am_your_host

He breathes a short, low chuckle.

"I prefer to shine where there is no light," he half-corrects him, his lips slightly twisted.

"And I think we fit in different ways than we do with other people. I see parts of you in me, I see parts of me in you. Sometimes I think we are too much alike, where the similarities ought to repel instead of attract. But there are certain things about us that no one else will ever understand, no matter how much they mean to or how much they try. It's not flattery, darling. It's just what I see."

From:

thewidewideworld

Sinric feels he air go from him at Emcee's words. It's not just desire, not just dance of flattery and false warmth.

"One who understands the shadow parts, the parts we keep hidden behind the mask. Behind the smile." Sinric whispers breathlessly. "In the silences between the notes." His lips brush Emcee's.

From:

i_am_your_host

Sinric exhales, Emcee inhales.

"Yes," he breathes out, not much more than a whisper of air. "In the gray after dusk and before the dawn. When we are neither this nor that, or here nor there. Lost to others, but finding our selves. If just for that moment..."

And he touches Sinric's lips with his own. A touch. A caress. A kiss.

From:

thewidewideworld

"When we are neither theirs nor our own." Sinric answers, in just as breathless a tone, but knowing that Emcee understands him utterly. He brushes another caressing kiss over Emcee's lips, his own parted as he cups the back of Emcee's head so very lightly.

From:

i_am_your_host

Yes, is the wordless reply in his kiss.

Eyes fluttering closed, he gently slips his tongue between those soft, parted lips. Not to plunder, but still to touch, to stroke, to entice into a dance.

Still leaning on one hand, he rests the other on Sinric's thigh, gliding higher and dragging the fabric of his tunic with it.

From:

thewidewideworld

Fine, soft fabric, bright in colour and expensive. The wings of a butterfly. The petals of a rose. Just like his lips.

He answers the call to dance, lips and tongue moving with Emcee's just as they played downstairs. Answering each other.

His hand moves in Emcee's hair, stroking down to the base of his neck to cup, to curl. Echoing that breathless yes.

From:

i_am_your_host

Breathing into each other.

Their tongues are sweetened with wine, but Emcee still tastes of smoke, the bitterness of tobacco, the darkness of hard liquor. Yet he seeks the sweetness of Sinric's light, relishing it and grateful that he would share it.

He slips his hand underneath the fabric to touch warm skin.

From:

thewidewideworld

A moan mingles with the kiss and Sinric's eyelids flutter. Emcee tastes like hidden rooms and closed doors. Like the secret no-one tells.

His skin is smooth and hot, his body lean beneath the window-dressings of his clothes. His own hands hesitate, relishing the moment rather than rushing to reciprocate. This is no furtive seduction that need to follow form but a shared moment of understanding.

From:

i_am_your_host

His hand moves up to Sinric's hip, resting there as if at any moment he would pull him into yet another kind of dance.

His other hand threads through his long, blond hair, soft and silken, and he imagines how it would feel sweeping over his bare skin.

Emcee's lips curl in a faint smile that Sinric will feel through their kisses.

From:

thewidewideworld

Sinric returns that smile, breaking kiss just long enough to look into Emcee's eyes. "Tell you what thought make you smile?" He asks softly.

From:

i_am_your_host

He breathes a soft, quiet chuckle.

"You," he murmurs, sipping a kiss from his lips.

"How your hair feels, how your skin feels." Another kiss.

"How your lips feel." And another.

"I want to know how the rest of you feels..."

From:

thewidewideworld

"You know... what I am?" He asks softly, between kisses. There's a hesitation in his voice, needing to be sure first.

From:

i_am_your_host

"Yes," he assures him, cupping his cheek.

"You told me a long time ago. I remember."

From:

thewidewideworld

He ducks his head a little. "Forgive me, I worry. Sometimes people don't... react well to discovering when I am."

He lifts his eyes to Emcee's. "Thank you, for understand."

From:

i_am_your_host

Emcee kisses the corner of his mouth.

"Put all your worries aside, darling," he murmurs with a faint smile. "They have no place here between you and I."

And he kisses him again, full and warm, as if to drive those worries away.

From:

thewidewideworld

Sinric relaxes into his arms, into the kiss. He cups Emcee's cheek, his hand sliding down to caress the curve of Emcee's neck. His fingers falls to the opening for Emcee's shirt.

From:

i_am_your_host

Still kissing him, he purrs at Sinric's soft touch, letting him explore and set the pace.

From:

thewidewideworld

Sinric's kiss follows his hands, lingering on the hollow of Emcee's throat. He plucks the buttons of Emcee's shirt, hoping for more skin.

From:

i_am_your_host

Emcee tilts his head back a little as Sinric's lips find their way down his throat. He slips his suspender straps off his shoulders, before pulling his shirt open as Sinric undoes the buttons. His skin is pale but warm, his body boyish and slender. However there is no modesty in being free of his clothing as he sheds his shirt completely.