abraxaslogs | [ OPEN ] the river's overrun

Entry tags:

[ OPEN ] the river's overrun

Who: Claude and various
When: July + August
Where: The Free Cities, the Horizon, TBA
What: Catch all for both months + open TL for Free Cities quests for July
Warnings: None currently, will add/mark as needed

( open + closed starters below | action, prose, and wildcards all welcome | find me at

indech, by PM, or on discord to plot something! )

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[ Dion is in luck considering that while he might've been quick to reach for his coins - especially since he'd had that sort of plan to pay for the quills to start with - but that momentary distraction of the smile on the other man's face is what makes him too slow to react in all of a couple seconds. A smile which only becomes nicer the more he sees it and far less reserved than the ones at the start of everything which feels so long ago now were, and even more so when coupled with that being a truthful answer it's not difficult to tell Dion wanted to hear as one more piece to everything slots into place.

By the time Claude remembers to pay attention - well. He's already being handed his quill for safekeeping. And it's all the more fitting, he thinks, for him to have not purchased this himself after all. For as much as he'd meant it that its design reminded him of Dion, now it will even more so. ]

Nothing which can't wait for after wherever we're going to go. [ Just to make it clear in the rank of importance where things fall, and Claude glances back over his shoulder towards where the inns and taverns await with only the choice needing to be made. ] You lead the way.

Excellent.

[The word, rare from him, belies his exuberance. It is only... he knows what his heart desperately needs, and it is not to be alone for a time. Ramuh's understanding was some balm on its own -- little as he wishes to admit it -- but they are still relative strangers in the ways that matter, and he can only accept that the way Ramuh knew Clive is one he shall never get the chance to.

But he has known Claude for seasons before their many years, and somehow that solidifies him as a steady presence. A man who can be trusted. And while he is not always upfront with his meanings or his words, Dion finds no duplicity in him. Not to an extent that matters.

Dion takes his hand, and he leads him.

It is no mistake that he has already chosen the finer of the inns he has perused or slept in in the past, and though there is certainly no royal suite, there is a room on the second floor with a small balcony large enough for two, to look out into the eternal night and see through the forest canopy to the stars. With his needs so taken care of in Thorne, he has little need to spend coin on much besides his paints. And there, once the door is opened, is a bottle of fine wine waiting for them on a table between two beds, and his dragon curled around the bottle: an opportunity to show Claude the dragolet he knows in the Horizon knows him here, too.] I hope it is adequate enough for you, Duke.

[While the title was once a real formality, Dion means it with affection now.]

[ It's a testament to being a little too distracted by Dion that until the other man takes his hand, he'd forgotten about reaching out to do the same. A simple action and one he's extended his hand between them for before in the square for a dance, though it's all the more fitting in many ways that it's Dion who reaches out now.

All that to say that when that hand finds his, Claude doesn't hesitate to curl his fingers around Dion's. Maybe also with the slightest regret he's chosen to wear gloves despite knowing full well they're required for him against the chill even as now he no longer feels it from this as they walk.

Or when they enter the room in question since something else becomes apparent - that Dion has planned this as Claude looks around the room to find all the things that make it so. ]

I think it'll do quite well, your princeliness.

[ A trade in affection for those titles. There's a split second in which Claude considers correcting that to his proper one which matches Dion's - prince - but just as quickly decides that can be a discussion for another time. It'd interrupt what's barely started here as he instead makes his way to the balcony to get a small preview of the view. Bringing Dion with him, of course, since he's not let go of their joined hands yet once even as he turns to look at the prince with a genuine smile he doesn't try to make anything else but what it is. ]

And here I was going to settle for a tavern when you'd already put thought into something far better.

[It is fitting, gloved hand in gloved hand, as Dion so permanently wears his own as to not betray the scales and claws his hands bear as a permanent scar to the memories he has as a god. It is enough, he thinks, to have the touch at all. To... allow himself to reach out to someone he has come to trust so fully, that it has formed into something beyond that.

The sound of that word even makes him laugh.] That sounds horrid.

[Princeliness. It is some particular charm to Claude, or simply a skill, that he can make something sound so glib and so light at the same time. The duke certainly has a hand in both traits.

Perhaps that is why he does not release his grip, even as he's led to the balcony. And indeed, as ever, the sky is dark, and the stars are shining. Though he had once approached Nocwich with the trepidation of a frightened animal, so coated in darkness, he now sees it for nothing more than a proper backdrop... and besides, there is still spots of light in such dark.]

I have little to spend coin on when Thorne is so excessively... generous. I should like to share such wealth, to have you be comfortable here. [With me. For as long as he should like to stay. It is an open invitation. He expects nothing, but he can admit he wants much.]

Does it? Maybe I'll change it to Your Royalness instead.

[ Dion's laugh only encourages him on in more ways than one. From continuing to tease with one supposed title after another - and with more waiting he could surely think of if given a few more seconds to think about it. It'd be worth searching out what might earn that laughter again and again.

He won't be now since what Dion says after overrides any follow ups. That it was not just preplanning for somewhere warm but more than that - Claude hears what's unsaid, he thinks, and together is a very welcome idea indeed. ]

I have always been one to enjoy the finer things now and again.

[ When presented with them, anyway, and though there's a shade of teasing in that directed solely at himself it's not one he wants to linger on. That'd be his usual way of operating in skirting around something if not outright deflecting whatever it is. Though it'll never quite be out of reach, it doesn't feel right now when it's in response to Dion's seemingly unwavering sincerity. Something that has cut through all of his many walls and guards time and time again and made it easy to turn into trust as he looks back at Dion with a hint of that small smile from joking.

It softens not long after when it doesn't take Claude longer than a second to find the honesty to give in return - that Dion deserves to hear without any circuitous path when this is something wanted. Something he doesn't question as he trails a still gloved thumb back and forth across the back of the other man's hand still in his. ]

But it wouldn't matter whether this was somewhere fine or not, so long as you're also here. That matters far more to me.

[His nose delicately wrinkles.] Even worse.

[Remind him to never speak of Claude as his title again. The retaliation is unrelenting, and Dion can hardly keep up with it.

Finer things suit him, both with the thoughtless way he had gone after what he wanted as a god -- and inclined those around him to do the same -- to how easily he fits into this room now. To a portrait with a background of darkness and stars.

His lips lift. A sly thing to say when there are so many far less comfortable places. But with even such a small movement against him, both intimate and pleasurable, he cannot say that he disagrees. As long as Claude was close, and looking at him like this. Both with affection, and... meaning.

It has been so long since he's done this. Since he remembers these feelings. The flutter in his heart, the warmth that spreads from his hands into his arms from where Claude touches him. Not because they are unknown to him, but because he closed that part of his heart away the moment he told Terence goodbye.

There will be plenty of time to question what this does to his knight's memory -- whether it is betrayal, or whether it is something he even deserves.

But for the moment, he gives in to feeling completely, when he holds onto Claude tighter, leaning in to kiss him.]

[ Claude can't help laughter again at that look of elegant disgust on Dion's face as he pronounces this to be an even less enjoyable title. As he'd intended it to be by choosing it, of course, and it lessens none of the fond expression on his own face.

More so when the rest gets a quiet contemplation rather than any response as it leaves things in a sort of suspension. Or would if it wasn't for the change in Dion's own expression when they don't look away from each other, and Claude doesn't feel any need to expand that thought. To spiral it out and away from the truth it was that it turns out he doesn't need words to confirm a return of when the grip on his hand tightens.

And Claude does not, for once, question the certainty with which in the instant Dion begins to move towards him he's already doing the same to meet the other man for that kiss. One in which he also wastes no time bringing up his free hand to cradle Dion's jaw with it and to resettle them slightly so when that this kiss breaks, it's even easier to lean his forehead against the other man's for a small pause rather than going for another kiss. For a second or two, anyway. ]

See? Once again you managed to make this even better than it already was.

[ More of a confirmation than anything else even with the smile still there on his face that's a rather different sort of delight than from those titles before, and it's been enough of a pause (in Claude's mind, anyway) to now lean in and kiss him again. ]

[He'd judged the moment right.

Surely Claude can feel how hard his heart flutters simply from their proximity. His eyes slip closed, squeezing the hand in his grip. The one to touch his cheek is warm, yet cool compared to how the heat already blazes there, beginning at his lips and singeing up into his cheeks.

He remembers this -- a faded, imagined memory. But it had not felt like this. The reality of it makes it all the sweeter. A feeling as if... he is allowed this. It was not granted to him through times he cannot fully recall, that he did not truly live.

His other hand rests at Claude's waist, allowing the touch of a body when he normally entertains such a specific, intended distance between himself and others. When it is over, when he must break away to breathe, Dion leans some of his weight back against Claude.

He was not wrong. He smiles. He laughs, and it is breathless.

And Claude kisses him again. Here he allows his arm to wind around Claude, to pull him closer.] When you put it that way, it sounds like flattery. [Oh, he's beautiful. The stars have nothing on him.] I did not intend for this when I invited you here, but... I confess, you have bewitched me for some time now.

[Before they were gods, he means. He thinks... perhaps even upon their first meeting, when this curious man followed him from the roofs, only some short distance from where they stand now.]

[ He's reminded that it's crossed his mind plenty of times before that Dion has a nice smile but this time, Claude thinks, even those smiles don't quite compare to the one on the other man's face now. It's something brighter and difficult to look away from - not that it's even crossed his mind to try when it would take some severe and dire occurrence to pull his attention elsewhere from where he can admit it's riveted.

It's a lightness to Dion's expression, as if the weight Claude's sensed on the other's shoulders has lifted even if it's merely a temporary reprieve. The arm around him for that embrace he'd gladly stepped into without a single hesitation is more than enough to lean into to block out the rest of their surroundings. ]

Even if it was just flattery, it wouldn't make it less true. Though I rather like knowing this isn't quite what you'd planned and we managed to stumble into it anyway.

[ As they did - sort of, since there's that feeling Claude's had every so often about feeling like they were on a path long before the future they lived but wasn't real intervened with a clearer picture of what could be. Here it is surfacing again as bewitched as a descriptor causes far too fond of an expression to shift across his face, Claude's certain, though it doesn't stop him from running his thumb gently across Dion's cheek where his hand still lingers as he's loathe to draw it away. A small touch but one with no less sentiment behind it than when he'd only had a hand in his instead of the face of an earnest man looking at him as if there are no other sights to be seen while it tugs on that affection he'd carefully set aside for months which feels it can no longer be held back.

Bewitched, indeed. ]

Maybe you aren't the only one with that confession. [ As if adding in 'maybe' somehow disguises a truth. As has become habit around Dion, Claude makes no move to rush to obscure it as anything else while he considers for a moment then chooses to add more to make it nothing but truth. ] Not just because of the years spent as gods, though those didn't hurt, but from before it from everything else.

[It may be the first time he has had anything to truly smile about, and for it to last so long. The press of their bodies is unfamiliar and electric; it burns like the light he's held in him since the day he was born.

There is a lifting of weight. For once, he is not thinking of his guilt, or his regrets, or his loss.]

Stumbling is... the correct term, I think.

[As much as a newborn drake that has yet to understand where its legs end and its wings begin, so, too, Dion feels he is approaching an entirely new experience. This is not... this is not how he was with Terence, where he always knew where he stood, what Terence thought of him. Still so much of Claude is covered in fog; details of his world, of his life beyond the monastery. The war he was pulled into. The war he survived to be here.

He leans into the hand upon his face.] You captured some parcel of my heart before we were ever gods. That, I can promise you. But I was not sure... if you had the room for such affections.

Maybe I shouldn't say 'maybe' at the start of that, then.

[ With a slight grin for some fun at his own expense for intentionally choosing to do that again - especially when maybe doesn't have a place here. It's more of a definite thing; how couldn't it be when what Dion says feels so grounding? A contrast to the ways Claude voices things evasively himself so often as a defense against figuring out where someone else might stand.

He's reminded again of the unflinching sincerity Dion's offered him time after time, and now is not the time to leave loose ends anywhere when time together in person just like this is limited. The Horizon even with as much as it can do would not be quite the same as being able to stand here wrapped up in each other. ]

The same is true for me again, though it took me longer to know it than I wish it would have since we could have had this sooner. There's not much I wouldn't want to stumble into with you, Dion. So long as we do it together.

[ Room certainly brings about another thought with it that's been in the back of his mind. One which was going to be inevitable no matter what and even more so now when there's an important consideration to that in what Dion's feelings on it may be. Claude doesn't withdraw when he shifts since it's not to pull away but rather to move his hand still lingering in that additional embrace just enough to also brush back some strands away from Dion's face gently. ]

I always have room for you. Though you should know you aren't the only one who has a part of my heart, and because of that I wouldn't ask you to to limit where yours goes now or at any other time. None of that changes how I feel about you, but I understand if it does for you or if you need time to think about it beyond this.

I wouldn't have asked for this to happen any other way.

[The time it took makes it all the more precious, just as his time with Claude as a god was -- those lazy afternoons in the sun, chasing after his attentions, was wavering and energetic as they were.

But those same memories is why he mentioned room at all. While some things happened during those memories that would never happen again, or come to pass -- his dalliance with Ramuh comes to mind -- he would be remiss to not recall the triumvirate Claude had once been a part of, bound so tightly together they could hardly be separated.

He shifts, his hands to Claude's waste. A little room to breathe, but he is unwilling to stop touching him now he has gotten the contact he has craved so terribly.] I admit, such a concept is new to me. [He looks down, clamouring for the same bravery that had him confront the emperor.] I have never had an opportunity to have an open heart. And you -- I can hardly believe mine is the only heart you have a hand on. As long as you are happy, Claude. That is all which matters to me.

[ No, he wouldn't either. The wish for more of this in the past is a fleeting one when after it's said it's replaced with knowing there will be more moments yet to come in the future, and that's a realization no less thrilling. Each of those steps - or stumbles, as so named - led them to here, and for that Claude can only be grateful.

The same is true for the end of Dion's considering throughout which he'd watched carefully. Claude would be deceiving even himself if he pretended like that he didn't inaudibly let out a breath he hadn't entirely noticed he was holding in. ]

If time here has taught me anything, it's that more can be possible than I'd ever guessed. And if there's something you want which wasn't possible where we've left behind, it's worth pursuing.

[ A teasing undertone is notably left out of those words. For he means the ones already said and the ones yet to come; for the vulnerability Dion's already extended, Claude knows he's long overdue to do the same. Having not stepped out of any closeness is all the encouragement he needs to shift again, but this time to wrap his arms around Dion's shoulders. ]

There was a time... well. More like years in my life where I believed I'd find no one at all and made peace with it if it meant I could accomplish the other dreams I had. Believe me when I say I'm the last person to have expected ending up with this instead.

But just as that was my choice - and others' - to find happiness, I meant it about yours, too. You make me happy, and I want to do the same for you. Whether that's with me or wherever anything might lead, I won't stop trying for that when it's what you deserve.

[They are words true to his heart. After all, his living at all is an impossibility. And yet here he stands. He thought, after Terence, there would be no more for his heart in his world, or any world. And he meant it to be so; Terence had been by his side for nearly his entire life, and no one can replace him.

He does not mean to replace him. He does not wish to spill any blood nor blood on Terence's name. He cannot know where he is now, how he fares, with his prince having been gone a year -- or longer. He can only hope he found something anew. That he found the healer child and they are both safe.

He prays to Greagor this does not stain his memory. That this bout of selfishness in his prince is not unforgivable.

Claude's arms are a perfect weight on his shoulders. He leans into him, feels... supported. An impossible feeling as well, but Dion cannot lie and say he has not needed such support through his life. He would not have made it this far without Terence's support.

His smile is wistful.] I cannot afford to worry for the future. I should rather focus on the now. [The matters of what he deserves must be set aside. If he only receives what he deserves, then he should have nothing.] Which includes the night. I should like you to stay. I cannot accept to part from you now, with such revelations, at least until tomorrow.

[ There's something else in that smile on Dion's face, he's almost certain. Would like to think he's observed enough different ones by now to know the differences between some of them even as subtle as they might be, and when paired with the words which follow - feels like a key to something. Possibly just that none of them have any control of what is or isn't happening at home, or what was left behind, or even what might be ahead for them here. A combination, or perhaps none of them at all.

Dion is right, no matter what it is; as tempting as it is to let his mind wander down any number of paths, why not focus on the now? They're here together, and that is more than enough to set contemplation aside when there'll be time to learn more about it later. The smile Claude offers back in return is genuine and soft around the edges in even a way he's not entirely aware of for such a request and being drawn closer - as if his answer could ever be anything but yes. ]

I think we can arrange for more than a night whether it's this one or more to come. And for tonight, there's nowhere else I'd rather be.

[ Such words are meant to be capped off with a kiss, and that's just what he leans in for. It's entirely tempting to continue, but maybe in another moment when he has something else in mind first. Now it's just a matter of moving towards it which seems to take him a great deal more effort... which is to say, he either doesn't manage to peel himself away or it's at a pace which might very well be glacial for how slow it is. ]

I seem to remember spending many a time reading together once upon a time. [ Memories he holds dear out of those years, all those times in solitude together which stand out among what all he recalls and ones Claude treasures. Not ones which have happened in reality, however, though there's the chance for them now. ] What do you say we bring the wine with us to get comfortable? The dragon, too, since I wouldn't want to leave her out.

[More than a night. He nearly chokes to hear it. It -- the longer the seconds pass, the more impossibility presses in o him. They still hold so many secrets between the two of them. So many unknowns. And yet they were both so willing to move past that. To care despite it.

This kiss Dion is happy to sink into, lifting a hand to cup Claude's cheek, to lean his weight into his body. Dion may not be the dominant of Shiva, but glacial, for this moment, is a pace he can work with.

He still feels like he's in a whirlwind regardless.]

I would love nothing more. [And yet it is terribly hard to put any distance between them. To even stop kissing him. He's never had this freedom. To stand with a man he has fallen for and not dread the next moment he shall be pulled into war. This place has no power over him.] Oh, no, of course not. We cannot forget the dragon.

[She perks up at attention pulled to her, lifting from the bed with a stretch. No, it is only fair she should be here, too. When she is yet another thread between them.]

[ If it hadn't already been difficult enough to pull away as it was, Dion makes it even more so when each of those small touches put a pause in what even Claude can admit aren't his best attempts to exit a situation. Because why would he even want to here? Far better to grin against Dion's mouth when it seems he remembers the dragon after all. ]

If she's anything like... well, any wyvern I've ever known, she might've invited herself as it is.

[ One last kiss it is temporarily before he slowly unwinds himself from Dion's embrace now that there's another destination in mind.

In the name of comfort, or rather something far more comfortable, Claude removes all the warm gear meant to ward off Nocwich's chill - gloves, cloak, a scarf - and then tosses them onto one of the armchairs nearby rather haphazardly. Something he's done before a time or two (or several hundred). Much like those other times, there's no checking to see if they land or to fold any of it. Claude's too busy retrieving the book in question next and sitting on the edge of the bed to toe off one boot and then the other next.

One brief pause to scratch the dragon under her chin to further the invitation offered, and then there's nothing left to do but to scoot back to get comfortable and pat the empty space next to him with a smile offered to Dion. ]

C'mon, then. Time to get even more comfortable.

[Dion laughs, quiet, letting Claude slip out of his hands only because he knows that he has him in a way that is not merely physical. It is enough that he can watch him undress, to make himself comfortable in a place that Dion had carved out for himself.

He's allowing this. He's allowed this. Company. Tenderness. Things he never thought he should touch again... that he earned through trust alone.

Dion removes his outer jacket, until he is only dressed in a light, loose chemise that flutters around his chest. Only long enough to hide the stone of his skin underneath. One step at a time, he thinks. Dion is not focused on his curse tonight.

As many years as he spent curled up around Claude in the sun as Bahamut, as much ease as he found in it, it is clear the same ease does not come to him as a man. Not when his experience has been so... limited. He leaves his boots beside Claude's, removes his gloves -- hesitating only for a second -- to reveal the scales and claws that are his hands now.

It feels as if secrets may be all he has to share anymore. But he does wish for more. And it is this that has him lean his body against Claude's, to sink down until his head is in his lap. His dragon crawls between them, fitting herself in the space between Dion's chest and Claude's legs so she lays across both of them. The ease which Dion lacks appears to be contained entirely in his dragon.] The reality of this is even more blissful than those remembered dreams.

[ For his part Claude waits patiently as Dion moves towards the bed, watching what feels like deliberate decisions for each action with a small smile on his own face. Perhaps it's merely the formality he's come to know and finds endearing surfacing again in a squeeze in his chest somewhere around his heart as the other man settles onto his lap. He could tell himself as much, minimize it to just that, but even Claude's never been that good at lying to himself.

Easier to translate it for now to reaching to run a hand through Dion's hair first at the angle where it's fallen and then to brush it back with each gentle pass of his fingers through it. A gesture also meaningful while the dragon settles herself into place like the leosylphs do whenever he sits down in an armchair with a book almost just like this. ]

Lucky for you then we can also arrange for this to be more than once when our thoughts are the same on it being better.

[ But what Claude really means is lucky for him to be allowed this, lucky for them to be here. Something which verges a bit too close to honesty for him to voice despite everything else said through words and actions in this very room, and something to be saved.

The book rests against his chest with it momentarily intentionally placed aside in his thoughts. He'd meant it about reading, but first is reaching for one of Dion's now ungloved hands to again take it in his own with the other man's fingers resting in his palm. A quiet question without words before Claude curls his own fingers around scales and claws he doesn't remember from before though the answer doesn't so much matter as much as the hand in his and the man curled around him. ]

[Like a startled cat or the first touch of a newborn chocobo, Dion stiffens at the touch. This is not his norm. He was not allowed -- or, rather, did not allow himself -- more than small, brief moments of tenderness with Terence. Moments that were still hidden from prying eyes, that were in his tent on the battlefield or, more rarely, his room in the castle.

He was already target enough. He did not need to spread the danger to anyone else.

Another stiffening when Claude takes his hand, and this time he watches it happen, his eyes having slowly slipped closed from the touch. Of course he understands the sense that Claude does not care, but... Dion does. He has hated the change since it was forced on him.

Now Claude's fingers slip between his, unharried by the feeling of scales. Well. He does have extensive experience with wyverns. A distinct fondness of them. It is only that Dion has always had a firm separation of himself and of Bahamut. They were separate, they were one and the same. His body was his own, apart from the curse.]

A gift. [He tilts his head back to look up to Claude's face. He doesn't need to speak it to make it a question.] From the Singularity, so I've been told. A hint of what is to come.

[ Each reaction is carefully catalogued as he watches to make sure there's not discomfort too great there. Dion's eyes closing are a reassurance as Claude continues to gently run his fingers through the other man's hair in something hopefully soothing to make tension melt away.

Until it comes to hands where it's back again, and he waits patiently for what answer he'll receive. A succinct answer as it turns out, and one which requires no guessing about how Dion feels about it. ]

Maybe what's to come. [ A gentle correction when there's still so much unknown. He remembers Dion as a god well after all their time spent together in those centuries; maybe it's discomfort with that which weighs heavy here. This isn't the only change Claude's seen more as Sylvain also came back with something, and same for others still even before then. That's even before the things he'd done as a god that he'd rather forget in between better memories from then. ] Singularity or not, it changes nothing for me.

[ Which is what he can offer without going into more of those potential unknowns, much as he wants to offer more. Nothing which can be done about that now except gently squeeze the hand in his before lifting it to his lips to kiss the back of it for added reassurance, watching Dion all the while. ]

Maybe. [His repetition could offer some agreement, and it does, but most of Dion is far more pessimistic about his own future. He has already succumbed to the emotions that had taken him over as a god once before. What is to stop him from getting worse? For settling into such feelings?

Perhaps it is this. His memories of all those years (and there were far too many of them) have drifted into fog, and he can no longer recall if he had lifetimes with Claude, or if they met again after centuries apart. But he cannot believe that love for another could make a man worse. It is the very antithesis as to what Ultima believed.

Dion's heart feels weak. Even with the scales, he can feel the press of heat, of lips. Of adoration. It is that which seals the fact he will tell Claude all of his secrets. To ensure he is worthy of such receptions.] Thank you. [He lifts himself, tipping his head in for another kiss.] Then I am yours as long as such beliefs continue.

[ Maybe is something he can accept since it's enough for Dion to acknowledge it. He's under no illusions the other's answer changed even in that echo, but it's enough as he squeezes the hand still in his in response rather than reaching for any words. It's enough to watch Dion consider it even if he can't guess where those thoughts might be going, but that's the thing: there's time to learn them, and that's more than enough, too.

As Dion lifts Claude's already leaning down to meet him with his other hand going to the back of Dion's head to keep him there. If it's not the right time for words when there will be others, then instead he can put them into that kiss until it ends. And when it does he's not quick to pull away, instead holding Dion's gaze with a soft smile which only grows more so at what's said. ]

I could say the same.

[ Murmured quietly with fingers trailing through Dion's hair, and he means it. It would be easy to get distracted - as if he hasn't already when it's easy to linger here with more yet unsaid. Instead Claude presses one less kiss to the corner of the other man's mouth and leans back against the pillows behind him once more to pick up the temporarily forgotten book as they both settle in before he starts to read, Dion's hand still in his own all the while. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ OPEN ] the river's overrun

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i'm so sorry for the delay!!

absolutely no worries!

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sorry for the wait ;;;

no worries, you're all good!! <3

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wrap up around here? ♥

it's a wrap!