sleepytimejunction | HALT THE VAULT

HALT THE VAULT

Dividing their forces is the best way to confront this matter, to ensure that the Archbishop does not escape and that Aymeric is successfully rescued. Though there is the selfish urge to remain at the Warrior of Light's side, he also knows that they cannot spare another moment if possible for Aymeric's sake. He has no doubt of the Warrior's skill and abilities, but it is still difficult to turn away and not lend his shield.

"Be well, my friends," Haurchefant says, keeping his encouraging smile up. Time isn't at their side, so no more words are exchanged, giving him the gift of the Warrior's stoic nod. It is enough for him. They part ways, leaving to their own respective duties.

As he goes into the bowels of the Vault, keeping his head clear and his eyes focused. He does not love to kill his fellow Ishgardian, but if they aim to protect the Archbishop and keep him from finding the Lord Commander, then they are his enemy. They will not spare him mercy, so in turn none can be spared for them.

"They're here! Sound the--hrrk" a temple knight begins, at least until Haurchefant guts him.

Well, hopefully cutting him off will give him enough time.

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No, you speak truly. Openly, he surely could not — and yet the Count de Fortemps's affection for you is the worst-kept secret in all of Ishgard, my dear.

[His hand rises, held sweetly captive in Haurchefant's. His breath catches again, and he does not seek to pull his fingers away. Too forward, he says, and something in the pit of Aymeric's stomach flutters, the aching void within him shivering at the prospect of, even for but a few fleeting moments, being filled.]

Be so forward as to make me forget my father, Haurchefant.

[He closes his eyes, lashes dark against his cheek.]

Let us both forget together, if you are willing.

[It is true, and Haurchefant cannot dare to deny it. It is in party why he knew he could boldly ask to have the Warrior, Alphinaud, and Tataru act as wards of the house. He knew that the Count would not deny him. It does feel a bit selfish in that way, but he does not regret it.

For now, his focus shall be on Aymeric. To heed his request, and give him as he so wishes. Halone, he is lovely, but he would be all the lovelier with a smile indeed.]

I shall not take back my words. I am willing and here.

[Another kiss to his hand, then another to his fingertips.]

What I give is because I wish to. You ask no burden of me.

As am I. Willing...and here.

[It's difficult, the way they're positioned; with Haurchefant still upright and himself lying stretched on his cot, there's no good way for Aymeric to reach and touch him without moving up and out of his repose again, which would both ache and likely draw a chastising from his friend besides.

He settles, then, for a soft noise of discontent, pacified only slightly by the kisses pressed against his skin, desirous of so much more.]

Pray have mercy on me, and do not bid me languish without your warmth for long.

[So forward, Lord Commander. How very scandalous.]

[For a moment, Haurchefant is pleasantly surprised -- but he does not let it give him pause for long. Instead, he looks overjoyed, his hand reaching to gently touch the side of Aymeric's face.]

Then I shall give all that I have, for my warmth is unending!

[A bit over the top as he is wont to do, yet, he still presses on: Haurchefant moves out of the chair to lean a knee to the bed, bowing down to rest his forehead upon Aymeric's.]

And if after you still do not feel cherished, I will put forth all my efforts once again tenfold for you deserve to be wanted and adored.

[At long last, he presses his lips to the other man's, careful and sweet as can be. Not that he isn't capable of more, but he wants to treat every inch of Aymeric as lovingly as possible. To ensure he knows how every part of him is found to be beautiful. So his affections are soft and encouraging.]

[How safe it feels, to be covered over like this by the tender shield of Haurchefant's body — and better still that the only dangers here are the phantoms of memory that threaten to steal him away, and not the terrible lightning of the Heaven's Ward. Full rare is it that Aymeric allows himself to relax enough to indulge even a moment like this, but surely if there were ever a time that such respite was warranted, surely it must be now.

And so, weakly, he runs the tips of his fingers along the mail Haurchefant still wears, feeling each battle-burnished ring in the slim space left between them as their lips meet and bodies gravitate together. Haurchefant bears the shame of bastardry they share so much more nobly than he ever could, enough so that one could almost pardon it rather than merely feigning ignorance to it, but in the end it is all they are: two bastards with noble fathers, tucked away on an infirmary cot where none shall look or see.]

Haurchefant —

[He manages to work a hand free, sliding it first up Haurchefant's side and then to his arm, until finally he can settle his long capable fingers at the back of his friend's neck.]

Then as you cherish me, I shall show you all the fondness that others before me have held back.

[His thumb moves slightly, running the edge of Haurchefant's sensitive ear.]

For I am fond. So very...so very fond.

[That means more to him than Haurchefant honestly expected. He eyes slide closed for a moment, and he shudders at the fingers delicately tracing up his ear. He holds his breath, then turns his head slowly to press his lips against Aymeric's palm before leaning toward the contact.

Fond. As if finally, someone can afford to give him some manner of affection openly. Fury, he hasn't truly examined himself much in that regard as he just realizes now how much that means to him.]

Ha, how you've made me speechless... Then, let us not keep each other waiting.

[He keeps his voice even as he can, but he is moved in his heart.

Not that he needs more encouragement, but he does pull back just enough so he can actually properly take off his mail. There is a bit of urgency as he does, undoing straps and his belt, but he has no shame about it.

He truly wants to make Aymeric feel beloved.]

[He sits up a little as Haurchefant starts to work at his armor, moving to help with the deftness of one full familiar with the assortment of clasps and buckles of a knight's garb. And how strange it is, that for all that his movements are matter-of-fact and utilitarian, the very act of it sends a blush of color rising in his cheeks.

Soldiers assist each other with duties such as these as a matter of course; 'tis not a new or unusual thing. And yet the knowledge that he is helping to undress his lover is...potent. And thrilling.]

Yes — I want to feel you...

[It would be satisfying to push off the mail and let it rattle carelessly to the ground, but that would also attract all manner of attention to their little refuge here. Aymeric swallows hard and tries to be patient, easing the fastenings free without undue or haste.]

What secrets hide beneath your armor...show me, I would see all of you...

[For a moment, he smiles warmly as Aymeric is determined to help him, just as Haurchefant had wanted to aid in undressing the Lord Commander earlier but held back. A shame, he thinks; he will have to make up for that! For now, he welcomes the aid, and though he too is tempted to simply dump the chainmail to the floor he's more cautious than that: instead, he leaves it carefully on the chair as he removes it before untucking his tunic.]

No more secrets than you have, I am certain. But I would share myself with you in full regardless.

[And so, off with his tunic, leaving his top half bare. There are nicks and scars, as one might expect for a knight. Nothing devastating, but they each have their tale to tell, well worn just like his mail.

Once more, he kneels on the bed, cupping the side of Aymeric's face gently as he is able despite his callused hands.]

Well? Am I to your liking?

You are exquisite.

[And now, suddenly, there is muscle and flesh for his fingertips to savor instead of cloth and metal — and savor he does, reaching boldly for Haurchefant, drawing him down and closer even as his hands begin their slow, tender exploration of the planes of his chest.]

Strong. Bold. Incorrigible. And so wonderfully warm.

[His fingertip grazes past a nipple, careless at first, then back again more deliberately.]

Would that I could admire your body with eyes as well as hands, but I cannot tear my eyes away when you see fit to smile at me that way.

[A pleased hum escapes him, and he is content to let Aymeric touch as he pleases, as if that is exclusively the reason he has undressed. He breathes in more sharply as tender skin is touched, his nipple eagerly hardening up under the attention.

Carefully, he nudges off his boots, letting them rest on the floor without too loud of a clatter. He takes his time, crawling over Aymeric until he's almost straddling his hips, but he's resting most of his weight onto his own knees so that the other man need not bear it.]

Overjoyed as I am, I would find ways to make you smile as well.

[He bows his head, pressing a kiss softly to Aymeric's brow, then to the bridge of his nose.]

And of course, to please you. Oh, how I shall like to do that.

[Finally, he takes mercy upon Aymeric, properly kissing him once more. This time, he opens his mouth, slowly letting his tongue brush against Aymeric's lips. Less to coax them open, more to simply lavish him with adoration as he so plans to do.]

Shall I take pity on you, and whisper sweet nothings of how I might best be pleased?

[Not that it seems particularly difficult to guess, with the way he gasps at the tenderness of Haurchefant's kisses, disarmed by the sweetness enough to be overcome when Haurchefant's mouth finally discovers his own.]

Or will you seek to discover it for yourself...?

[He strokes his hands down Haurchefant's sides, smoothing over his hips before coming to rest on the tops of his thighs, feeling the strength in his legs even as he holds himself up enough to avoid putting too much weight on Aymeric's leftover hurts from the Vault.]

Tell me, how would you...would you like me?

[He chuckles quietly.] Ah, please, I would rather have the adventure of discovery to myself. Though if I do something unappealing, I would ask you tell me. For all that I wish is for you to know nothing but pleasure in this moment.

[To have warm hands on his body has always been a delight, but moreso to have it with Aymeric who always appeared in some ways some sort of ethereal beauty. That is the romanticism in him speaking, of course, but it is how he feels.

He dips his head down lower, his lips dragging over Aymeric's throat.]

Just like this, my dear. Comfortable as can be, while I explore every inch of you. When you can think of nothing but this room and this moment.

Although perhaps also with less clothing involved.

Would that I might ride you like the mounts you favor so...

[A thing he says only because Haurchefant is so close, because he can breathe it like a secret too low even for the Fury to hear, full of scandal and vice. Even just forming the words makes him shiver with daring, the implication of the forbidden as delicious as Haurchefant's kisses.]

But if you would have me pampered and comfortable and yours, then I am in your hands, dear Haurchefant. In them and beneath them.

[Oh, hearing that makes it feel as though suddenly his own blood is on fire, licking through him and thrilling him. The idea of Aymeric on top of him, riding, that forms a hunger anew.

He shivers and gives a light nip to Aymeric's throat.]

I would beg for another occasion, then. To know this instead of being a mere fantasy to me, else I will never rest. You tease, my dear Lord Commander.

[But pampering he still wishes to do. Haurchefant would worship Aymeric with his all, to make sure he feels properly adored and unable to question it. Shoving his hands under Aymeric's shirt, he pushes up so he can start peppering kisses down his chest proper, stopping only so he can drag his tongue down over his stomach.]

Tease...? Nay, I merely desire —

[But it's his turn to gasp as blunt teeth drag pleasantly against his throat, relentless in their determination to stimulate. It all feels like it's happening in a flash of levinbolt, too rapid for his dizzy thoughts to keep up, left altogether to instinct that has him arching his back beneath the greedy exploration of Haurchefant's hands.]

Ah — !

[Caught between a shiver and a writhe, Aymeric lets his head fall back against the thin pillow with his eyes closed and his mouth open, all but panting as he tries to rock up into Haurchefant's fingers and tongue, and in almost the same moment to pull away from how much it is.]

Yes...oh, yes, there...!

Oh ho.

[For a moment, he glances up from his position, smiling wickedly up at Aymeric. A softer kiss is pressed upon his belly, tender and fond.]

As I thought. Your voice shall be all the more beautiful when sounding your pleasure.

[He ventures back up, humming as he continues to spread his affections. Another kiss to his skin, a playful nip, and his hands slowly roaming over Aymeric's sides to feel his warmth, to know him well and intimately. His tongue slides over a nipple curiously, wondering just how sensitive that may be for him as well.

Then he'll truly terrorize him with delight.]

[He is not a green youth, new to the ways of pleasure, but — oh, it has been such a long time since his last real indulgence. His encounters in the Temple Knights had always been brisk, purposeful things: a hurried fumbling swive in whatever few spare moments alone he could grasp with another, more concerned with immediate relief than drawn-out luxuriating.

But Haurchefant is having none of such things, and telegraphs his sweet intentions with slow kisses and languid drags of his tongue, and it is — it will take Aymeric apart, he will fall to pieces here on this infirmary cot, and let it happen he shall if only because Haurchefant is present and able to stitch him back together again.]

Smug...

[So he accuses, and correctly so, even as his breathing turns ragged; the rise and fall of his chest neatly delivers his sensitive nub to the caress of Haurchefant's mouth, as if inviting him to play as he likes.

At length, Aymeric seems to remember he both has hands and is capable of using them, and drifts one to bury its fingers in Haurchefant's hair, halfway between petting and holding him in place.]

Only...have care. There are.

[He swallows, soft.]

Hurts about my body, I think, that have yet to begin to show. Truly, I do not mind, but I would not have you — [He swallows again.] — cross with me, for leaving you to discover them by touch alone.

[A pleased hum escapes him, and he leans a bit into the hand that's in his hair, as if to encourage Aymeric to hold on as tight as he'd like.

The cautious word of his injuries gives Haurchefant a pause, then he gazes up at Aymeric before kissing his chest sweetly.]

I shall have all the care for you as I am able. Tell me if I harm you, and I will stop.[More coyly, he adds:] Some pain mingled with intimacy can be all the more pleasing, but I think in this regard I prefer to have you nothing but cared for in the most gentlest of ways.

[Another day, if Aymeric were to ever desire it. And oh, how Haurchefant would be all the gladder to join him.

For now, he goes by his word as he is careful with his lover. As excited as he is to join with Aymeric, he will remain cautious. His tongue draws out slowly, circling around the nipple in front of him, his breath hotly sighing against the other man. Fingertips drag down lightly, his touch featherlight across Aymeric's belly before lightly squeezing his hip, his thumb rolling over the skin there.

If he must torture Aymeric with kindness, so he shall.]

You will not harm me. You could never. Not you.

[But his hand continues to cradle the back of Haurchefant's head as he resumes his efforts, stroking soft locks of hair and the curve of his scalp as that clever mouth settles back into working Aymeric over. A flush rises in his cheeks despite his better efforts; though he does a fair job of holding back from crying out, he can't smother all the noises that escape him, until soon Haurchefant is coaxing out a steady stream of breathy gasps and faint pitched whines.

Interest stirs between his legs, until soon even his permissive cloth trousers are tight, and it's all Aymeric can do to keep from squirming in search of friction that simply isn't there. Haurchefant's hand is so light, so gentle as to be feather-light, and it's almost too much in how it isn't nearly, nearly enough.]

Please —

[He could perish as a happy man now, listening to all of the noises he's managed to squeeze out of Aymeric. They're soft and held back, and he wonders how he might truly sound if he were to cry out without restraint. Would Aymeric bless him with another chance to find out? Oh, Fury, he hopes so.

The plea does not escape him. Haurchefant pulls back, letting the hardened nipple pop out of his mouth before he nuzzles against Aymeric's chest.]

How could I dream of refusing such a sweet call?

[He sits up, if only so he can adjust his position. Light as ever, his palms roam around Aymeric's hips, over his thighs before he finally takes mercy upon him, opening the front of his trousers. Reaching down, he helps free the other man's prick, giving it a slow stroke, his grip too loose right now.]

Better?

[It's not better. It's not nearly enough for what he needs, the smooth slide of Haurchefant's fingers too light and relaxed to feel good, but good manners and proper upbringing fast get the better of Aymeric. Haurchefant is already doing so much, is looking after him so tenderly; the last thing Aymeric is about to do is offer critique of his bedroom skills. He'll simply have to — it's not, it's not so bad, really, it's something, and it's not what he wants but if he can just be patient, soon enough it will build, mayhap, into something he can start to find relief from —

Only then, much too belatedly, does he realize who he's dealing with here.

His cheeks flush even redder, overwhelmed with the adoring meanness of teasing him so mercilessly, and his hips stutter and jerk of their own volition as he wonders desperately what it will take before Haurchefant takes pity on him.]

You...!

[There's no hiding this noise, now. It's long and low, ragged as gravel, rich with ache and wanting.]

I will have you brought up on charges, Haurchefant — !

[For a moment, Haurchefant almost feels guilty, but only almost. Seeing Aymeric squirm with his cheeks so flushed, the hunger in his voice -- it's such a treat that he can't help but feel it's more a boon than a bane.]

I should like to see the paperwork for that, my dear.

[He chuckles, utterly delighted, but he does at last take a mercy upon him even if it does not seem like it at first. Briefly he releases Aymeric, if only so he can bring up his palm to give it a firm lick in order to slicken it before he's reaching back down. This time, Haurchefant tightens his grip on Aymeric's cock, more a proper hold as he starts to stroke him like he actually means it now.]

But for now, perhaps I shall make it up to you? I will seek your forgiveness most fervently.

A kiss, then, and I shall — shall pardon you —

[He all but moans relief when at last the firmer grip finds him, sticky and slick and warm with the residual heat of Haurchefant's mouth. His eye fall half-closed, lidded and rolled back enough to nearly hide the blue; he forgets how to breathe except in heavy panting, chest blessedly tight with arousal instead of with pain.

The pleasure, in and of itself, is nothing out of the ordinary. It's the contrast to the pain of the Vault that has him drunk on it, relieved almost to tears from the bliss of feeling good.]

Ah...yes, yes, like that...

That I would give you more than a kiss. But as you ask, it shall be done.

[And he leans over to Aymeric to make sure to crush his lips against the other man's, just a shred less gentle than he had been. It's as if he is eager to devour the noises emerging from Aymeric's mouth, like he can taste it. Lightly, he nips Aymeric's lower lip, pulling back for a second before deciding to press another kiss, softer this time.

Finally, he pulls back.]

Ah, but you did not say where to kiss you. Perhaps somewhere else...? I should not have assumed.

[He's sliding himself back again, just enough so he can place himself between Aymeric's legs, careful to not jostle him much. Bowing his head, he leans down, leaving a firm kiss to the tip of the cock he's been tending to.]

T'would be a simple matter to give you more to atone for — !

[Sweet Halone, he could die of this. Could perish right there on the infirmary bed, smothered to death by the care and affection that Haurchefant shows him. He would not have thought that a devouring kiss could be so compelling; erotic, yes, but asked his opinion before this, he would have named a sweet and lingering kiss as his favorite of all, lost in the fantasy and romanticism of it.

Yet he would be hard-pressed to name a feeling more romantic than having Haurchefant's desire spread over him so, traced along his teeth, bitten into his lip. Almost as soon as it ends, he craves another, and another still after.

Only then Haurchefant leaves his mouth, dropping only that cryptically gentle remark, and by the time Aymeric realizes where he's going, it's already well too late to do anything but gasp.]

Haah...!

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