Lord Chris Sonom (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
chrisisofaith) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
makinglies2020-07-02 03:37 pm
chrisisofaith) wrote in makinglies2020-07-02 03:37 pm
Entry tags:
Catching Flies With Honey
The hardwood of the floor dug into Chris' knees, like sharp pinpricks of the reminder he wasn't seventeen and learning how faith worked anymore. Five years down the line and he'd learned to accept the discomfort as part of his devotion to Bane; the black hand favored pain and promise of ruination and those who took power for themselves.
Was he proud of his servant? His cleric who took up his banner with the promise to overthrow those also loyal to him? Probably. After all, this was exactly the kind of game the Dark Tyrant loved.
So Chris didn't move or grab a pillow from the stiff and unyielding couch in the alter room, or move his hand even though he knew it was pressed into the discolored spot of the floor where his cousin's blood had soaked it.
They'd done what they could with the place, cleaned it, painted it, let those go who wished to leave the memories behind with a generous parting gift to get their lives started over. Some had stayed and neither he nor Rhyt could thank them enough; this whole thing was hard enough without needing to hire a whole new staff they likely couldn't trust not to stab them in the backs.
Of course, even if they'd needed to do that, they would have had their 'Guardians' all the same. A God's blessing, their friends. He and Rhyt had stayed up many nights to begin picking at the strings of the tapestry the Listers had smothered the city in, and many of those nights had ended in more than one drink, minds fried, and simply reminiscing to each other how lucky they were to have Amnos, Silver, and Ra'ah at their sides.
Even if her gentle ribbing about the latter most member of that group usually ended in playful wrestling on the study ground until one of them sat on the other in victory.
Chris could feel a soft smile spreading on his face as his thoughts wondered to their resident rouge, his bright eyes and soft hair...the way his skin felt under the callouses on Chris' hands and the sounds he made when they fooled around...
A flush of heat ran through him and he sat back on his heels, hands running down his face and then through his hair. So much for praying.
Muttering small, insincere, Elven curses under his breath, Chris stood and winced at the protest of his legs. How long had it even been? An hour, maybe half more? It was getting late. He blew out the candles he'd lit and replaced the rug they'd put in the room to cover the bloodstains before moving out into the upstairs living area. It was really a glorified landing that held a couple couches at this point, for all the junk they'd sold, only replacing the necessities. He and Rhyt might have wanted to live in this dumb house to dance on the Lister's grave, but that didn't mean they wanted to sleep in their beds.
A quick glance out the windows into the garden confirmed the time, the low, orange light of twilight washing the reds and maroons of the mansion in a warm, almost welcoming glow.
Silver was likely at the pub listening to Candle perform, they'd be back late. Amnos and Chastity were likely somewhere in the house, maybe the library or out in the gardens. He made a mental note to check with the workers tomorrow about the timeline for their house, he wanted it ready before the first (of what Chris suspected were many) little Stonehuer arrived. Rhyt and Ra'ah...honestly, he didn't know. They could be anywhere in the house or not in the house at all...and since they were both rogues, he likely wouldn't be able to guess anyway.
Chris cast Light around him, the ball of radiance following over his shoulder in lieu of a candle as the cleric made his way downstairs to the dry storage. He could call on someone to get a drink for him...that was what nobles did, right? They snapped their fingers, rung a bell, and their servants did everything for them. By all rights, that was what the now-Sonom staff were being paid for. It made the back of his mind itch at the thought, like someone had cast an antimagic field on him and rendered him useless.
No, let the staff clean or cook or take care of the house that was too big even for the six main inhabitants living there, Chris could get his own drink. Something he politely told the two Tabaxi he came across as he went, both offering to help.
No, a drink...maybe a large one or the whole bottle and a glass, if the mood took him, and he'd retreat to those couches back upstairs to watch the rest of daylight's final breaths.
Was he proud of his servant? His cleric who took up his banner with the promise to overthrow those also loyal to him? Probably. After all, this was exactly the kind of game the Dark Tyrant loved.
So Chris didn't move or grab a pillow from the stiff and unyielding couch in the alter room, or move his hand even though he knew it was pressed into the discolored spot of the floor where his cousin's blood had soaked it.
They'd done what they could with the place, cleaned it, painted it, let those go who wished to leave the memories behind with a generous parting gift to get their lives started over. Some had stayed and neither he nor Rhyt could thank them enough; this whole thing was hard enough without needing to hire a whole new staff they likely couldn't trust not to stab them in the backs.
Of course, even if they'd needed to do that, they would have had their 'Guardians' all the same. A God's blessing, their friends. He and Rhyt had stayed up many nights to begin picking at the strings of the tapestry the Listers had smothered the city in, and many of those nights had ended in more than one drink, minds fried, and simply reminiscing to each other how lucky they were to have Amnos, Silver, and Ra'ah at their sides.
Even if her gentle ribbing about the latter most member of that group usually ended in playful wrestling on the study ground until one of them sat on the other in victory.
Chris could feel a soft smile spreading on his face as his thoughts wondered to their resident rouge, his bright eyes and soft hair...the way his skin felt under the callouses on Chris' hands and the sounds he made when they fooled around...
A flush of heat ran through him and he sat back on his heels, hands running down his face and then through his hair. So much for praying.
Muttering small, insincere, Elven curses under his breath, Chris stood and winced at the protest of his legs. How long had it even been? An hour, maybe half more? It was getting late. He blew out the candles he'd lit and replaced the rug they'd put in the room to cover the bloodstains before moving out into the upstairs living area. It was really a glorified landing that held a couple couches at this point, for all the junk they'd sold, only replacing the necessities. He and Rhyt might have wanted to live in this dumb house to dance on the Lister's grave, but that didn't mean they wanted to sleep in their beds.
A quick glance out the windows into the garden confirmed the time, the low, orange light of twilight washing the reds and maroons of the mansion in a warm, almost welcoming glow.
Silver was likely at the pub listening to Candle perform, they'd be back late. Amnos and Chastity were likely somewhere in the house, maybe the library or out in the gardens. He made a mental note to check with the workers tomorrow about the timeline for their house, he wanted it ready before the first (of what Chris suspected were many) little Stonehuer arrived. Rhyt and Ra'ah...honestly, he didn't know. They could be anywhere in the house or not in the house at all...and since they were both rogues, he likely wouldn't be able to guess anyway.
Chris cast Light around him, the ball of radiance following over his shoulder in lieu of a candle as the cleric made his way downstairs to the dry storage. He could call on someone to get a drink for him...that was what nobles did, right? They snapped their fingers, rung a bell, and their servants did everything for them. By all rights, that was what the now-Sonom staff were being paid for. It made the back of his mind itch at the thought, like someone had cast an antimagic field on him and rendered him useless.
No, let the staff clean or cook or take care of the house that was too big even for the six main inhabitants living there, Chris could get his own drink. Something he politely told the two Tabaxi he came across as he went, both offering to help.
No, a drink...maybe a large one or the whole bottle and a glass, if the mood took him, and he'd retreat to those couches back upstairs to watch the rest of daylight's final breaths.
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He leans into every touch, each one a brand to that ice that falls away in chunks as he finally unfolds from himself. His hands find their way to Ra'ah's sides and he leans up to catch those lips against his own, letting the kiss linger for a long moment before pulling back to look at Ra'ah.
Finally, the corner of his lips curled up slightly. "First of all, M'not cryin, you've gone and lost yur mind. I don't cry. Second of all, if you're just some desert rat, then I'm gutter trash raised in a brothel, ther'nt any sort of uneven ground between us there, Ra'ah. Don't ever let you or anyone else think otherwise."
One of his hands moved up to cup Ra'ah's neck above him. "Third'f all...the only way you'll lose me is if you send me 'way now. I've a terrible habit of not lettin' things go once I've got 'em, so you best be sure of what yur askin'."
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Ra'ah can't help but chuckle at Chris' words. "No, of course, you weren't crying." He kisses the corner of his right eye. "You may be gutter trash, but you're mine." He allows himself the possessive terms of affection, daring to believe that maybe it's true at least a little.
He nudges his nose against Chris' in a gentle gesture of affection. "I know what I'm asking. I'm not turning back from this. I want us to be more than single nights strung together. I want you to be my boyfriend and I want the world to know that too."
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"I want that too. More'n anything."
He pushed back on Ra'ah a bit to give him room to stand and tangle his arms around Ra'ah's neck. Light, gentle, kisses were delivered upon his boyfriend's face.
"I hope yur ready to be stopped and kissed at any given time." He punctuated that deceleration with one firm and deep kiss on Ra'ah's lips. After a moment, Chris pulled back again to murmur against those enticing lips. "I don't wanna step wrong in this again, but I don't wanna leave anything unsaid that shoulda been said ages ago either. So...tell me if ya'd rather pretend I didn't say it when I tell ya that I love ya. More'n I ever thought possible."
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"I love the sound of that." He kisses Chris' cheek. His heart is swelling with joy hearing those 3 words, 8 little letters that mean so much to him. He smiles against Chris' lips and returns the kiss soft and sweet. "I love you," he whispers, "I have for awhile now only I was too scared to say it." But he could say it now. He says it again before kissing Chris long and deep. His arms wrap around his waist and hold him close. His heart is pounding in his chest and it's impossible to keep the smile from his face. They're together. Actually together and not just stealing moments when they can. It might be that nothing changes other than being able to hold Chris' hand in public or kiss him whenever he wishes, but it feels like such a monumental thing that he can't help but lift Chris from the floor and spin them both in a quick circle out of joy.
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Head light, chest thrumming and lungs seemingly tight, Chris felt a rush of adrenaline and a tremor in his limbs. Hearing that little phrase back is terrifying as much as it is exhilarating. It wasn't something he heard very often.
"I like th'sound of that. Think I'll like hearin' it, if the urge ever takes ya."
He took a step forward, his hands coming down to grip at Ra'ah's hips as he walked his boyfriend (his boyfriend!) back so that his knees would hit the bed.
"Right now, ya know what sounds amazin'?" One of his hands slipped down and around the front of Ra'ah's pants to cup and trace his curve with the nail of his thumb. "You."
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"You mean," he takes hold of Chris' hip as he sits down onto the bed, pulling him with him. "you want to make love properly?" He can't help the silly grin on his face. 'Making love' it was something he had done with Chris time and time again, but now it actually felt right saying it. That fear that Chris would disappear for good in the morning was gone and all Ra'ah wants to do is worship him. He wants to show Chris just how deep his love runs and make him feel as good as he does.
He pulls Chris in for another kiss as he shifts back to get properly onto the bed. The hand on Chris' hip slides under his tunic again until he can touch the warm skin of his side. He squeezes gently as he deepens the kiss, lips parting and tongue sliding gently along his lower lip in a tease as much as it is asking permission.
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He had so many things he wanted to do, both to Ra’ah and have done to him, but first should be what they could do together. They’d been slow and gentle and passionate before, all the motions of making love without the name, but now it has the name and it would be different for it. Each touch and kiss and thrust could unabashedly announce love and endearment without the fear that had taken them both.
Chris met the kiss even as he scooted forward on his knees beside his boyfriend. The press of tongue to his lip and that graze of touch on his side has him pulling back. He gives a small peck to Ra’ah’s chin before he goes, a quiet bid for patience as he pulls the tunic up and over his head. The ill-fated garment is tossed to the side and instantly forgotten and only the briefest flutter of hesitation sees the breast-band joining it.
He rarely undressed completely in front of anyone, but Ra’ah wasn’t just anyone and he craved the feeling of their skin pressed together.
As soon as he was divulged of his nuisance clothing, Chris dove in to reclaim Ra’ah’s lips, his tongue immediately seeking entrance.
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He pushes off the plush pillows behind him long enough to rid himself of his own upper vestments. His scarf and shirt go flying to join Chris' tunic on the ground. The linen cloth around his forehead is knocked askew and he tears it off just in time to catch Chris in the kiss.
He can't help but smile against his lips even as he parts his own to allow entrance. He pushes his tongue back against his lovers' and moans softly in delight. He traces his hands up Chris' sides to his ribs when one goes back down to grasp his hip and the other cups his chest pantomiming his motions from out on the veranda. His fingers find the soft skin of his nipple rather than cloth and he moans again at how good it feels against his rough hands. He's delightfully soft and silken in all the best places and Ra'ah can't get enough of him. He deepens the kiss and pulls his hips in close. He's already getting hard just from this, wanting, needing him, and knowing he has him from now until always.
There's no fear that Chris will disappear this night or concern for the next. Ra'ah has never been keen on imagining too far into the future. It's enough for him to live in the present and having Chris' love is more than enough to quell any past anxiety. He trusts Chris will hold his feelings and stay with him as he'll do the same. He loves him too much to do anything else and he's ready to prove that in whatever ways he must.
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His hands had been busy supporting him, but one of them abandons that so it can slip into Ra'ah's freed hair and tangle itself there and pull very lightly at the strands. He shifted his weight so he could lean more into that hand and on him and free up his own to trace down Ra'ah's side to his hip.
Chris broke from the kiss with a gasp, his desperation mixing with his passion as his kisses lit down upon his lover's body with fervor and every ounce of reverence Ra'ah deserved. Cheek to chin to neck.
"Yur Gorgeous...ya know that? Fuckin' perfect."
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He tilts his head to the side for Chris to lay his kisses down the column of his throat. "You're perfect," he moans softly unable to. articulate much else. He wants to say how much he loves him. He wants to say how Chris is his moon and stars in the sky and everything else in his world but he's too caught up in the lips at his throat and the press of his arousal against rough cotton.
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His handiwork received a peck before Chris started working his way down further, his hands tracing the lines of Ra'ah's body as his kisses fell with reverent care upon the same paths. When he got to the edge of Ra'ah's pants, his hands snared them and pulled, allowing his lips to continue their dutiful worship.
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He watches as Chris makes his way down his body. He stares reverently at him and reaches up to smooth back some of his bangs. His breath hitches for a moment as his trousers are pulled roughly from him and he can't help but chuckle as he's laid bare, his arousal even more evident now. There's a lingering scent on his skin from their earlier tryst. Knowing that Chris will taste himself on his sex makes him moan and arch up towards waiting lips. "Please," he whispers, not doubting that Chris wouldn't take him in, but needing him to know how badly he needs this all the same.
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He wanted it too, no question, he wanted to taste himself, still lingering on Ra'ah's skin before they renewed their efforts.
But a little foreplay went a long a way.
"What is it, love? What're you askin' for?"
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"I like hearing you say that," his voice is soft, the expression on his face just as soft and loving. "I didn't think I'd ever here you say that, love."
He cups Chris'cheek and runs his thumb over his lips. "I'm asking for you to show me what your lips can do. I'm not sure that out on the veranda was your best work." He winks. He can't help but tease Chris a little. He's never quite sure how he will take it, but either acquiescence or punishment usually have Ra'ah in for a good time.
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“Wrong answer, outlander...try yourself again.”
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"I want your lips around me," he says again, stroking his thumb across his lips again and pulling a little at it. "I want to see you take all of me," his voice is husky with desire, "I want to watch my cock disappear into your beautiful mouth."
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Despite his words, Chris pulled back and ensured the rest of both of their clothing vanished off the side of the bed before returning between Ra'ah's legs. Chris kissed one knee, then immediately took Ra'ah's length into his mouth as far down as he could comfortably go. Chris sucked on him, his tongue running around the shaft a few times, as though savoring that hint of himself still lingering there. He drew in a breath before slowly sinking further, aiming to push Ra'ah into the back of his throat, his lips stretched obscenely around the base.
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Chris' mouth is pure bliss. He watches with pure longing as his length is taken in inch by inch. He swallows hard, resisting the urge to thrust up into that delightful mouth. "Do you like the way you taste?" He asks huskily not at all expecting an answer as he's quite busy. Any questions are quickly forgotten in those next moments. He gasps and shifts his hips up to Chris' mouth, forgetting for a moment to keep still. He doesn't need to imagine it, he can feel how far Chris has him and that alone is enough to send heat straight through him. He practically swells in Chris' mouth as his desire blooms. "Wow," he whispers all forms of coherency quickly leaving him.
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It's fairly well proven as Ra'ah rocks up into him and Chris swallows around him. That feeling...there was definitely something there, something to examine later that played images of having his mouth fucked, choking on Ra'ah's cock as he used Chris' mouth for his pleasure...it stirred the heat in his stomach and drew a moan from him anyway. Gods above, he wanted it. He wanted everything Ra'ah could give him.
A few more moments. Just a few more to push the limits on how long he could stay with Ra'ah buried in his throat, and he'd let this move on. Slowly, Chris' nails turned in on Ra'ah's hips and dug into the soft skin there.
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He reaches down and tangles his fingers in Chris's hair. He's not sure if he wants him stayed pressed to the root or if he needs a moment just to breathe.
His body makes the decision for him and watching Chris with eyes blown wide from pleasure, the seafoam green nearly obliterated by his pupils,he fucks up into his mouth. It's a small thrust, testing the boundaries of this new sensation. It feels fantastic and he moans again, praising Chris quietly.
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His other hand braces on Ra'ah's thigh while Chris's cough subsides and he catches his breath, a prickle of moisture at the corners of his eyes. If the spit coating his mouth, lips and chin were any indication, he's probably left a mess behind.
He turned to look back to his love, eyes a little red-rimmed, but a little wild with excitement and a smirk firmly in place. "Well...that was fun. Sounded like ya liked it." His voice was rough, but his tone was certainly pleased. "Migh' need to try that one again sometime."
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"They do say practice makes perfect," he grins and reaches for Chris, pulling him in to kiss him deeply.
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"That they do...we'll make good on it. For now...I know there's one thing we're not so needful of practice." His voice hitched, a bit more breathy as the ridge of Ra'ah's head rubbed against his clit and sent fire through him. He arched a brow, all cheeky confidence even as he desperately fought back the urge to just take that length in. "What d'you think, my love? You seem to be achin' for somethin'...mind sharin' what that might be?"
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He moans. He tries and fails not to push his hips up along slick folds, too far to actually be able to slip into him as he wants. "I am," his voice is husky and full of desire, "but I don't think I'm the only one craving it."
He places his hands on his hips and digs his thumbs into his skin as he squeezes. "I think you want this just as much as I do." He leans forward and nips lightly at Chris' throat and collar bones. "My love," he whispers against his skin. "I like it when you say that." It felt good, such a small change in their dynamic but one that made his heart race whenever he heard it. He nuzzles slowly against Chris' chest and massages small circles into Chris' hips with his thumbs.
"I want to be inside you," He looks up at him and smiles that slightly crooked grin of his, "my love."
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He teased his words with a slower friction between them, but punctuated his promise as he lifted up enough to catch the tip inside him. With every once of control he had, he lowered himself only a bit onto Ra'ah before moving up again. Just as it was almost too far, Chris pressed down, to take the length all the way inside, still stretched as he was from their earlier activity.
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