bitchprince (
bitchprince) wrote2009-05-26 11:50 am
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Room 303, Tuesday Evening
After an exhausting day, there was little Arthur enjoyed more than getting to lounge about his thankfully not-an-alcove bed, which was just about as good as the one he had back in Camelot. He was already in his nightclothes by now, and he was fairly sure that whatever happened, he had a good night's sleep coming up on him.
If you didn't know him any better (and most people on the island didn't. Even many who thought they did) you could almost say he was completely back to normal, had put That Weekend out of his mind, and was continuing on as per usual.
You'd be wrong. So would Arthur, who made deluding himself into an art form when he felt like it.
He was just going to concentrate on the whole good night's sleep - have a hunting dog now - nice bed thing. That was about in keeping with his sanity. (That, and considering everything that Reno had put on his mind. It was always nice when life accommodated your denial with more responsibilities)
He wasn't yet aware that in a few short hours, he was going to be bustled out of his room by cranky rodents, no.
[[ door is cracked, post is open! -- and thread with Leto nws. sigh ]]
If you didn't know him any better (and most people on the island didn't. Even many who thought they did) you could almost say he was completely back to normal, had put That Weekend out of his mind, and was continuing on as per usual.
You'd be wrong. So would Arthur, who made deluding himself into an art form when he felt like it.
He was just going to concentrate on the whole good night's sleep - have a hunting dog now - nice bed thing. That was about in keeping with his sanity. (That, and considering everything that Reno had put on his mind. It was always nice when life accommodated your denial with more responsibilities)
He wasn't yet aware that in a few short hours, he was going to be bustled out of his room by cranky rodents, no.
[[ door is cracked, post is open! -- and thread with Leto nws. sigh ]]
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"Good," he just said.
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The fact that they were back to this made him relax a little, and not only because of the anticipated pleasure.
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The moment he slid his unoccupied hand over Leto's firm biceps was also the moment he yanked him forward for a kiss, impatience or a need for denial and distraction kicking in - whichever was which.
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Not that everything here sat right, but it was little enough that he could ignore it, for once didn't put up a big fight, didn't flip them around - he could go for a little force tonight. Instead, he pulled just a little more firmly on Leto, nudging his thigh between them, and slid his hand down over the warm skin of his shoulder to the toned lines of his chest.
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Arthur's own expression grew remarkably smugger between kisses, but he had more important things to do, and an awful lot of time to fill with things that weren't thinking about his stupid bloody manservant.
He pressed back, running his hand along until he found a nipple, brushing it with the edge of his thumb. "Better-- you didn't get-- dressed?"
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At least no one could walk through the door right now.
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His smirk lit up a touch smugger.
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See? No thinking. Good.
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Hand moving to Arthur's hips, Leto ground himself against him with increasing need, while still exploring the kisses. He felt the voices in his mind grow louder, like he was standing in the midst of a crowd, but clung to the physical pleasure to keep them at bay.
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Also, to give him a chance to descend a few inches, if he managed. Damn.
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Arthur, as it was, had sunk down low, not quite on his knees but close to it, pressing his mouth to the still-clothed portions of Leto's crotch.
He was very, very dedicated to his mission.
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[and I need sleep now!]
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He glanced up with dark, dark eyes.
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That was some impressive mock-innocence there, but he did move down half an inch.
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