[Incorrect? This is Lobelia's ear now. Blood pacts are legally binding! Still, Lobelia knows he'll only infuriate Vergilius more if he keeps yanking on him, so he releases his ear without much fuss. It's not like tearing his ear off will make him see the error of his ways.]
Non, non, non! We've discussed this! Insisting on being miserable all the time will only bring unhappiness to those who rely on you! If the gods can forgive insurmountable sins, then why can't man?
[Because man doesn't want to. When Lobelia considers the reasons why, the answers easily come to him.]
You're addicted to the pain, Vergilius. You claim not to be self-serving or hypocritical, but the only one served by your self-flagellation is you. Have you not realized this?
[And sins cannot be washed away just by walking away from them, in his opinion. Why is his EGO a mantle of blood, a laurel of thorns? They're made to be worn to eternity, painful as they are.]
[The next part makes him actually lift his head up, incredulous.]
What? Addicted? [He's never been called this - sure, he's considered himself selfish, but for something like this?] Oh, pray tell, who else is going to bear the burden, then? You don't understand anything.
[Tsk, tsk. Lobelia has never been intimidated by that ugly glare and today won't be the day he backs down from it. Exhaling his frustrations in a long, thin sigh, he brushes the backs of his fingers along Vergilius' scarred cheek and pulls on a practiced smile.]
I am, garΓ§on bΓͺte. Did I not promise to bear your burdens with you and bring you happiness? [Cheekily:] Until death do we part. You are a stubborn man, but I will break you down eventually. That, too, is a promise.
[What's all this...? Vergilius was so passionate earlier when he was biting the fuck out of his finger. What happened? Was all of that heat and passion simply him venting his frustrations after reliving his memories?
Lobelia sighs so loudly and dramatically that he practically shouts. Oh, the Hugh Manatee.........]
What is marriage if not a union between two people who care for one another? [DON'T YOU CARE ABOUT HIM, VERG? WON'T YOU EVER ADMIT THIS???] You're so cruel! I have feelings, you know!
[Ah! What a wonderful response! Lobelia is trying really, really hard not to let his excitement spill over and ruin such a rare sight, but it's impossible not to tremble with joy. Gap moe Verg real???]
Ahhhh...! Vous Γͺtes si mignon!
[Mission Stay Calm: successfully failed.]
You have a choice here, Vergilius! Break your vows and crush my spirits into tiny pieces or remain true to your word and make us both happy. The choice is yours to make!
[It's that same tryst that occupies Lobelia's mind now, the moment Vergilius had a change of heart and dropped a single rope into that well of despair, rescuing him from it. He could have guided his ship into the rocks and destroyed him, could have killed him in every conceivable way, and yet he didn't. And yet he couldn't, that heart of his much too big for its own good.
That's precisely why Lobelia has to protect it. That's why he will protect it, a warm palm settling atop Vergilius' hand to ruffle his hair. He doesn't mean to treat him like one might a child, but Vergilius had tried to soothe him in a similar fashion not that long ago, hadn't he? Right now, Lobelia can feel his heart beating some ways below his own, a sacred treasure he will never again defile.]
Merci.
[I love you doesn't follow, the words lodged in his throat. It's fine, it's fine.]
I've entrusted all of myself to you, so please take good care of me. In return, know that I will stop at nothing to do the same.
[Please take good care of me. And that hair ruffle...it should be something to annoy him, but it doesn't. It doesn't at all.]
[Ah. Lobelia knows his soft spots too well. How can he resist a thing like that? Even someone like Lobelia, with his blood-stained past, responsible for the deaths of thousands, even his own parents...]
[Even something like that seems unable to stop him. Lobelia is not a child to protect in some tiny little corner, hidden away from the cruel world. He's quite different. But all the same, he can't abandon him, just like he never abandoned the idea of creating a better world for a man whose bloodstains and anger could outweigh his own.]
[I wanted to create a world where even you could live in peace.]
[....He raises his head, reaching with his left hand to grasp the other's, glancing at his handiwork and Lobelia's handiwork between entwined fingers.]
[A mild, soft smile manages to grace his lips.]
....I will.
[Another sigh, but its not so tired anymore. Something lighter is sitting there, like a bird in a window. A glimmer of light. Hope.]
I'll take care of you till the end. And then beyond that. You can't be rid of me. Not now. Not ever. You're mine.
[That smile silences every thought on his mind, wiping it clean and leaving nothing but the sight of Vergilius' happiness, fleeting as it is, to occupy it. This is the beautiful shining jewel he's been entrusted with, and guiding their joined hands to his lips, Lobelia kisses their wounds.
That smile clears the mess from his mind, his true feelings spilling freely past his lips.]
Je t'aime. Don't be so quick to give up on yourself, Vergilius. Nothing would break my heart more than that.
[There's always a path forward even if it must be carved out by their own hands. If Vergilius lacks faith in himself to traverse that path, he need only lean on Lobelia to continue forward. Life is meant to be lived with others, after all, and that's a lesson they'll both learn together.]
Nothing would make me happier than bearing your burdens alongside you. Don't be so quick to forget that, j'ai compris?
Edited (i'll have you know i'm a french expert) 2023-06-20 23:21 (UTC)
[Though he knows what he's referring to, here. This all feels strange. He's far too used to wallowing in his own grief. There was no one left to pull him out of it. Not even Lapis. He was drowning so long, he forgot the taste of air.]
[He's pulling their hands aside so he can shift forward, kiss him. He lets it linger, like a promise of its own]
Okay. [It feels strange, but okay. It feels like he shouldn't. But okay. Okay. It's going to be okay.] I won't. As long as you don't forget that I'll be your guide.
[He led him once to happiness. He'll lead him again. Lobelia found it after their death. It doesn't mean he can't get lost, still. Vergilius will pull him back, no matter what.]
[Incredible how such a gentle kiss can set every nerve in his body alight. It's no use trying not to shiver, exhaling a thin, gratified sigh, and even more pointless not to chase after Vergilius' lips for another. Lobelia's kiss is gentle and chaste, but it burns like a guttering flame fueled by his affection. No matter what, he won't stop loving Vergilius. Not even if that love is never returned. Not even then.
As if sensing that hesitation in Vergilius, Lobelia frames his face in his hands, a touch so soft and warm that it stands at odds with all the lives he's ended, all the blood he's spilled. Frightening as it is, he won't let Vergilius fight those fears alone. Not now, not ever again, so long as he draws breath.]
Je n'oublierai jamais. Wherever you lead, I will follow. There is no soul in this world that I trust more than you.
[How lonely must he have been, to crave this warmth? He had been denying it for so long that it feels like it should be snatched away from him as quickly as it came.]
[Lobelia holds him. He says those words. That he trusts him. And he believes it. They both have changed, like an irrevocable chemical reaction. Vergilius moves his head lightly in that grip to press dots of kisses over his fingertips, one by one. Right hand. Left hand. His wound on the ring finger. The tip of his tongue presses against it, a taste.]
I won't betray that trust. And I will heed your words, too. Even if I have every right to complain if you're being a fool. [Heh.] That's my right.
[Vergilius is the one responsible for making it clear to Lobelia that he was never alright with isolation and loneliness. He sequestered himself far away from society and lived as a hermit in order to live the lifestyle he thought would bring him happiness, killing more and more people and finding the high that followed to be more and more fleeting. This, however...
...Well, in a word, it's so pleasant as to be overwhelming. Lobelia's hands shiver and twitch with each kiss, little lightning bolts of elation coursing through his veins. Happiness. This is true happiness, isn't it? More and more, Vergilius is the one who assures Lobelia that he's finally found what he's been searching for all along.
Ah... And now he's the one left blushing, red right up to the tips of his ears. He'll make no attempt to hide it, instead taking Vergilius' face in his hands and guiding him into a litany of kissesβ his lips, his cheeks, the tip of his nose, the hollows beneath his eyes. Lobelia pays special attention to the scars that have always struck him as beautiful, his lips lingering on them.]
Heheh... I can't imagine you quitting your habit of complaining over the most mundane of things. That's part of your charme. You have no shortage of flaws, but I'll forgive you for being less than perfect.
[Lobelia is joking, but it's never easy to tell. Perhaps Vergilius understands him well enough to know the difference.]
[Not another word he's used to, for sure. His nose wrinkles, feeling a little ticklish as the man bestows kisses all over him , feeling like he's being assaulted by a light flurry of butterflies. The heat in his ears is creeping into his cheeks, his mind feeling a little hazy - not from the overwhelming feeling of lust like before, but something different, something new.]
Maybe I'll have to test your limits.
[Now its his turn - his tone lighter than usual, even with his typical rasp. He presses one kiss against each eyebrow, to make those eyelashes underneath flutter. A kiss to those soft lips, the wound in his own smarting, but delightful all the same. Lonely. He was lonely. Now he's not.]
[They're both rotten to the core. Maybe they don't really deserve it. He still thinks he doesn't. But it doesn't exactly stop him from biting down lightly against the other's lower lip, worrying in between his teeth.]
Maybe I'll be horrible enough to the point you can't stand it. I like a challenge.
[The threat of Vergilius testing his limits has Lobelia shivering in excitement. He's done quite a thorough job of that already, hasn't he? Still, to think there is yet more of himself that can be pushed to extremes only by those steady guiding hands further fuels the fire burning beneath Lobelia's skin.
Still, those flames never burn so hot that Lobelia fears being scalded. Such easy affection wasn't always foreign to him, but it is now, slowly acclimating to being held like something precious after years of having nothing at all. Exhaling a long, thin sigh, Lobelia relishes in the simple pleasure of each kiss, of the gentle ache of his bottom lip pressed beneath the other's teeth.
His eyes slip closed, hands sliding back to embrace Vergilius and mumble low in his ear.]
I've never been one to back down from a challenge, Vergilius. If you intend to excite me, I hope you are prepared to handle the consequences as well. You won't simply grow tired of me, will you?
[Hasn't he done that so far? Infuriated, annoyed, murderous - he's been pushed to the brink of all of it, all of Lobelia's consequences, and yet he hasn't wavered.]
[He's the only one who could take in all that Lobelia is, and vice versa.]
Mm.
[A pause, as the warmth between then grows - the rough scars of his skin brush against the soft expanse of flesh he finds over the other's back. His fingertips dig in, lightly, as if he can leave an indent like clay. His ear tickles - it makes him let out a slow little exhale through his nostrils, wanting to sink into this whole sensation. Like drowning slowly in lukewarm lava.]
.....If I have to be honest... [And now a kiss to Lobelia's ear, feeling vulnerable, sincere, a little flutter in his chest like that of a schoolboy trying to admit he has a crush.] I never will. You're that kind of person.
[Ah... It's a constant tug of war between them, isn't it? Lobelia thinks he's secured the high ground only to be knocked down a peg by some startling revelation or another.
He'll never tire of him? Truly? Lobelia's breaths stutter-start against Vergilius' ear, unable to speak properly, much less put his thoughts in order. Never. Never. Never. Ahhhh...............]
...You truly are an overwhelming man. Regardless, I don't intend to let you win.
[WHEN DID THIS BECOME A FIGHT?? Anyway, Lobelia drags his teeth along the shell of Vergilius' ear, tugging on his earring for good measure.]
It can't be me alone bearing the burden of this overwhelming happiness. I want you to feel it too, Vergilius. Every time you move, every time you breathe, from the time you wake to the time you close your eyes to sleep.
[When DID this become a fight? Now he's the one caught off step by Lobelia's reaction, expecting some crowing arrogant exclamation. When he manages to see the sincere soft underbelly of the mad magician...]
[Well. There's nothing like it.]
[A shiver starts from his head down into his toes from the teeth on his ear, murmuring - its so deep as to be a grumble, but there's something pleased in it. That sweet, terrible sense of affection, simmering like water about to boil.]
You sound like you're going to drown me. [A low laugh comes, a prelude to him dipping in a kiss against his jawline. His heart rate is slowly going up, beating steadily against the other's skin.] Perhaps I should get to you first.
[Lobelia doesn't know fear as man does, so much closer to a monster than a red-blooded human being, but he doesn't feel inhuman when he's with Vergilius. He doesn't feel quite so monstrous, cognizant of his own vulnerabilities in ways he never has been before. Terrified of them too, saved only by the promise that Vergilius will guide him and protect him even against himself.
It's that thought alone that keeps Lobelia afloat, but he isn't calm, not by a longshot. He feels Vergilius' pulse speed up and is affected by proxy, shivering badly beneath him, but he won't let himself shy away. The fact that he feels any compulsion to run away and hide is a sign that he's put his vulnerabilities on full display for Vergilius, but he trusts him. He must, instead tipping his head back to allow Vergilius room enough to pepper him with kisses.]
Hm... There you go threatening me again. Why don't we split the difference and drown together?
[It's too tempting to teethe on that wound he's left behind on Vergilius' bottom lip, tipping back to suck it into his mouth and lick over the marks left behind.]
[That's the surprise of it, isn't it? They're beasts. Indubitably, they're creatures in the guise of men. They should be.]
[Lobelia was born as one. Vergilius was molded into one. And they had thought that this was their lot in life. Fated to kill and spread darkness forevermore.]
[But here, as they lay intertwined, they're just human. It's an uncomfortable, raw, horrible, wonderful feeling. They've torn each other's hearts out and it somehow feels less potent than this.]
[The shivers of the man underneath him threaten to drive him wild. Vergilius presses more kisses against him - he almost wishes the kisses alone left marks, just like his bites did. His lips are captured - he lets them. A lone groan moves past them to grace the other's mouth, eyelids fluttering from the feeling.]
Didn't I - mm. [Another kiss, tongue diving into the man's mouth as his hand trembles.] Already...promise that? With our oath?
[Cheeky, cheeky. Lobelia has to take the edge off with a bit of laughter to keep himself from losing controlβ that had been the intent, at least, every inch of his skin raw like he's been plunged into icy cold waters while entirely bare.
Before Vergilius, even his soul has been stripped down to nothing, responding to something as simple as soft, featherlike kisses with throaty sighs. It isn't enough, and yet it's overwhelming. It hurts, and yet he aches for more.]
No good, Vergilius... You must be aware of how very tempting you are. Don't plead ignorance.
[Stealing a moment between kisses to catch his breath doesn't calm Lobelia any, but he's alright with that. He's alright with being set alight and left to burn so long as Vergilius is kindling his flame, kissing an indulgent trail down Vergilius' lips to his jaw to the hollow of his throat, sucking out bruises just beneath where the collar of his shirt falls. Thoughtful of him not to leave visible hickeys, isn't it? All this means for Lobelia is that he'll have to pull the man's shirt open later to admire his handiwork, a labor he certainly won't mind.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Non, non, non! We've discussed this! Insisting on being miserable all the time will only bring unhappiness to those who rely on you! If the gods can forgive insurmountable sins, then why can't man?
[Because man doesn't want to. When Lobelia considers the reasons why, the answers easily come to him.]
You're addicted to the pain, Vergilius. You claim not to be self-serving or hypocritical, but the only one served by your self-flagellation is you. Have you not realized this?
no subject
[And sins cannot be washed away just by walking away from them, in his opinion. Why is his EGO a mantle of blood, a laurel of thorns? They're made to be worn to eternity, painful as they are.]
[The next part makes him actually lift his head up, incredulous.]
What? Addicted? [He's never been called this - sure, he's considered himself selfish, but for something like this?] Oh, pray tell, who else is going to bear the burden, then? You don't understand anything.
no subject
[Tsk, tsk. Lobelia has never been intimidated by that ugly glare and today won't be the day he backs down from it. Exhaling his frustrations in a long, thin sigh, he brushes the backs of his fingers along Vergilius' scarred cheek and pulls on a practiced smile.]
I am, garΓ§on bΓͺte. Did I not promise to bear your burdens with you and bring you happiness? [Cheekily:] Until death do we part. You are a stubborn man, but I will break you down eventually. That, too, is a promise.
no subject
...
[He's looking as stern as always, but the way he pushes his lips out almost seems like a pout, even in that tight, scarred face.]
You make it sound like we're really married or something.
no subject
[Lobelia lifts his left hand and wiggles his fingers. Look at this nice legally binding wound on his ring finger! Unless...]
You're not going back on your word already, are you, Vergilius?
[Is Vergilius blushing again...? Such a rare treat. Lobelia doubts he'll ever tire of it.]
no subject
[WHAT]
Um. No. I mean. [AGH] It's still not actual marriage, Lobelia.
[JUST SAYING!!!!!!!!!! OKAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!]
no subject
Lobelia sighs so loudly and dramatically that he practically shouts. Oh, the Hugh Manatee.........]
What is marriage if not a union between two people who care for one another? [DON'T YOU CARE ABOUT HIM, VERG? WON'T YOU EVER ADMIT THIS???] You're so cruel! I have feelings, you know!
no subject
[His ears are beet red. What is haPPENING.]
Even if it's that, it's not... [He's letting out a very frustrated noise, burying his face against the other's chest LEavE HIM ALONE] Whatever.
no subject
Ahhhh...! Vous Γͺtes si mignon!
[Mission Stay Calm: successfully failed.]
You have a choice here, Vergilius! Break your vows and crush my spirits into tiny pieces or remain true to your word and make us both happy. The choice is yours to make!
no subject
[Ugh.]
[He's not even looking up, heaving a sigh.]
.......Hmmph. [He hates it here.] As much as I would like to crush your spirit into tiny pieces...
[As much as it would be easy to.]
....I won't.
[He couldn't go through with it. He realizes that. Lobelia's happiness....would he really want to add that to the list of things he's destroyed?]
[It's why he paused then, all that time ago, during their first tryst, and made Lobelia turn away from despair.]
[He can't do such a thing like that. He doesn't have it in him to it.]
no subject
That's precisely why Lobelia has to protect it. That's why he will protect it, a warm palm settling atop Vergilius' hand to ruffle his hair. He doesn't mean to treat him like one might a child, but Vergilius had tried to soothe him in a similar fashion not that long ago, hadn't he? Right now, Lobelia can feel his heart beating some ways below his own, a sacred treasure he will never again defile.]
Merci.
[I love you doesn't follow, the words lodged in his throat. It's fine, it's fine.]
I've entrusted all of myself to you, so please take good care of me. In return, know that I will stop at nothing to do the same.
no subject
[Please take good care of me. And that hair ruffle...it should be something to annoy him, but it doesn't. It doesn't at all.]
[Ah. Lobelia knows his soft spots too well. How can he resist a thing like that? Even someone like Lobelia, with his blood-stained past, responsible for the deaths of thousands, even his own parents...]
[Even something like that seems unable to stop him. Lobelia is not a child to protect in some tiny little corner, hidden away from the cruel world. He's quite different. But all the same, he can't abandon him, just like he never abandoned the idea of creating a better world for a man whose bloodstains and anger could outweigh his own.]
[I wanted to create a world where even you could live in peace.]
[....He raises his head, reaching with his left hand to grasp the other's, glancing at his handiwork and Lobelia's handiwork between entwined fingers.]
[A mild, soft smile manages to grace his lips.]
....I will.
[Another sigh, but its not so tired anymore. Something lighter is sitting there, like a bird in a window. A glimmer of light. Hope.]
I'll take care of you till the end. And then beyond that. You can't be rid of me. Not now. Not ever. You're mine.
[Unto hell.]
no subject
That smile clears the mess from his mind, his true feelings spilling freely past his lips.]
Je t'aime. Don't be so quick to give up on yourself, Vergilius. Nothing would break my heart more than that.
[There's always a path forward even if it must be carved out by their own hands. If Vergilius lacks faith in himself to traverse that path, he need only lean on Lobelia to continue forward. Life is meant to be lived with others, after all, and that's a lesson they'll both learn together.]
Nothing would make me happier than bearing your burdens alongside you. Don't be so quick to forget that, j'ai compris?
no subject
[Though he knows what he's referring to, here. This all feels strange. He's far too used to wallowing in his own grief. There was no one left to pull him out of it. Not even Lapis. He was drowning so long, he forgot the taste of air.]
[He's pulling their hands aside so he can shift forward, kiss him. He lets it linger, like a promise of its own]
Okay. [It feels strange, but okay. It feels like he shouldn't. But okay. Okay. It's going to be okay.] I won't. As long as you don't forget that I'll be your guide.
[He led him once to happiness. He'll lead him again. Lobelia found it after their death. It doesn't mean he can't get lost, still. Vergilius will pull him back, no matter what.]
no subject
As if sensing that hesitation in Vergilius, Lobelia frames his face in his hands, a touch so soft and warm that it stands at odds with all the lives he's ended, all the blood he's spilled. Frightening as it is, he won't let Vergilius fight those fears alone. Not now, not ever again, so long as he draws breath.]
Je n'oublierai jamais. Wherever you lead, I will follow. There is no soul in this world that I trust more than you.
no subject
[How lonely must he have been, to crave this warmth? He had been denying it for so long that it feels like it should be snatched away from him as quickly as it came.]
[Lobelia holds him. He says those words. That he trusts him. And he believes it. They both have changed, like an irrevocable chemical reaction. Vergilius moves his head lightly in that grip to press dots of kisses over his fingertips, one by one. Right hand. Left hand. His wound on the ring finger. The tip of his tongue presses against it, a taste.]
I won't betray that trust. And I will heed your words, too. Even if I have every right to complain if you're being a fool. [Heh.] That's my right.
no subject
...Well, in a word, it's so pleasant as to be overwhelming. Lobelia's hands shiver and twitch with each kiss, little lightning bolts of elation coursing through his veins. Happiness. This is true happiness, isn't it? More and more, Vergilius is the one who assures Lobelia that he's finally found what he's been searching for all along.
Ah... And now he's the one left blushing, red right up to the tips of his ears. He'll make no attempt to hide it, instead taking Vergilius' face in his hands and guiding him into a litany of kissesβ his lips, his cheeks, the tip of his nose, the hollows beneath his eyes. Lobelia pays special attention to the scars that have always struck him as beautiful, his lips lingering on them.]
Heheh... I can't imagine you quitting your habit of complaining over the most mundane of things. That's part of your charme. You have no shortage of flaws, but I'll forgive you for being less than perfect.
[Lobelia is joking, but it's never easy to tell. Perhaps Vergilius understands him well enough to know the difference.]
no subject
[Not another word he's used to, for sure. His nose wrinkles, feeling a little ticklish as the man bestows kisses all over him , feeling like he's being assaulted by a light flurry of butterflies. The heat in his ears is creeping into his cheeks, his mind feeling a little hazy - not from the overwhelming feeling of lust like before, but something different, something new.]
Maybe I'll have to test your limits.
[Now its his turn - his tone lighter than usual, even with his typical rasp. He presses one kiss against each eyebrow, to make those eyelashes underneath flutter. A kiss to those soft lips, the wound in his own smarting, but delightful all the same. Lonely. He was lonely. Now he's not.]
[They're both rotten to the core. Maybe they don't really deserve it. He still thinks he doesn't. But it doesn't exactly stop him from biting down lightly against the other's lower lip, worrying in between his teeth.]
Maybe I'll be horrible enough to the point you can't stand it. I like a challenge.
no subject
Still, those flames never burn so hot that Lobelia fears being scalded. Such easy affection wasn't always foreign to him, but it is now, slowly acclimating to being held like something precious after years of having nothing at all. Exhaling a long, thin sigh, Lobelia relishes in the simple pleasure of each kiss, of the gentle ache of his bottom lip pressed beneath the other's teeth.
His eyes slip closed, hands sliding back to embrace Vergilius and mumble low in his ear.]
I've never been one to back down from a challenge, Vergilius. If you intend to excite me, I hope you are prepared to handle the consequences as well. You won't simply grow tired of me, will you?
no subject
[Hasn't he done that so far? Infuriated, annoyed, murderous - he's been pushed to the brink of all of it, all of Lobelia's consequences, and yet he hasn't wavered.]
[He's the only one who could take in all that Lobelia is, and vice versa.]
Mm.
[A pause, as the warmth between then grows - the rough scars of his skin brush against the soft expanse of flesh he finds over the other's back. His fingertips dig in, lightly, as if he can leave an indent like clay. His ear tickles - it makes him let out a slow little exhale through his nostrils, wanting to sink into this whole sensation. Like drowning slowly in lukewarm lava.]
.....If I have to be honest... [And now a kiss to Lobelia's ear, feeling vulnerable, sincere, a little flutter in his chest like that of a schoolboy trying to admit he has a crush.] I never will. You're that kind of person.
no subject
He'll never tire of him? Truly? Lobelia's breaths stutter-start against Vergilius' ear, unable to speak properly, much less put his thoughts in order. Never. Never. Never. Ahhhh...............]
...You truly are an overwhelming man. Regardless, I don't intend to let you win.
[WHEN DID THIS BECOME A FIGHT?? Anyway, Lobelia drags his teeth along the shell of Vergilius' ear, tugging on his earring for good measure.]
It can't be me alone bearing the burden of this overwhelming happiness. I want you to feel it too, Vergilius. Every time you move, every time you breathe, from the time you wake to the time you close your eyes to sleep.
no subject
[Well. There's nothing like it.]
[A shiver starts from his head down into his toes from the teeth on his ear, murmuring - its so deep as to be a grumble, but there's something pleased in it. That sweet, terrible sense of affection, simmering like water about to boil.]
You sound like you're going to drown me. [A low laugh comes, a prelude to him dipping in a kiss against his jawline. His heart rate is slowly going up, beating steadily against the other's skin.] Perhaps I should get to you first.
no subject
It's that thought alone that keeps Lobelia afloat, but he isn't calm, not by a longshot. He feels Vergilius' pulse speed up and is affected by proxy, shivering badly beneath him, but he won't let himself shy away. The fact that he feels any compulsion to run away and hide is a sign that he's put his vulnerabilities on full display for Vergilius, but he trusts him. He must, instead tipping his head back to allow Vergilius room enough to pepper him with kisses.]
Hm... There you go threatening me again. Why don't we split the difference and drown together?
[It's too tempting to teethe on that wound he's left behind on Vergilius' bottom lip, tipping back to suck it into his mouth and lick over the marks left behind.]
no subject
[Lobelia was born as one. Vergilius was molded into one. And they had thought that this was their lot in life. Fated to kill and spread darkness forevermore.]
[But here, as they lay intertwined, they're just human. It's an uncomfortable, raw, horrible, wonderful feeling. They've torn each other's hearts out and it somehow feels less potent than this.]
[The shivers of the man underneath him threaten to drive him wild. Vergilius presses more kisses against him - he almost wishes the kisses alone left marks, just like his bites did. His lips are captured - he lets them. A lone groan moves past them to grace the other's mouth, eyelids fluttering from the feeling.]
Didn't I - mm. [Another kiss, tongue diving into the man's mouth as his hand trembles.] Already...promise that? With our oath?
[Another shaky noise.]
Our souls unto hell.
no subject
[Cheeky, cheeky. Lobelia has to take the edge off with a bit of laughter to keep himself from losing controlβ that had been the intent, at least, every inch of his skin raw like he's been plunged into icy cold waters while entirely bare.
Before Vergilius, even his soul has been stripped down to nothing, responding to something as simple as soft, featherlike kisses with throaty sighs. It isn't enough, and yet it's overwhelming. It hurts, and yet he aches for more.]
No good, Vergilius... You must be aware of how very tempting you are. Don't plead ignorance.
[Stealing a moment between kisses to catch his breath doesn't calm Lobelia any, but he's alright with that. He's alright with being set alight and left to burn so long as Vergilius is kindling his flame, kissing an indulgent trail down Vergilius' lips to his jaw to the hollow of his throat, sucking out bruises just beneath where the collar of his shirt falls. Thoughtful of him not to leave visible hickeys, isn't it? All this means for Lobelia is that he'll have to pull the man's shirt open later to admire his handiwork, a labor he certainly won't mind.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)