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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[It aches to feel Haurchefant slide off and leave him wet and pulsing unsatisfied, but the sight of him acts as a balm to soothe the desperation somewhat; with a soft noise, Aymeric grasps for him, trying to pull him back to his mouth, wanting to kiss those selfsame lips that had just been caressing his cock just moments before.]

You will unmake me —

[What he wants is to drag Haurchefant down on top of himself, to feel the comforting weight of his body, to lie flush against him and grind their hips together and relish each and every sensation — but it would be pleasure laced through with aches and pains, and Haurchefant has already expressed himself on the possibility of causing him even an onze of sting right now.

So, more gently, he seeks out tenderness. Seeks to kiss him and kiss him and kiss him more, full to bursting with sweetness that burns to be returned in kind.]

Anything. Anything, so long as I may please you in kind. Anything, only give me your moans to swallow and your breath to steal. Anything to make you mine even as you claim me as yours.

[He holds his breath a moment, pleasantly startled as he's pulled down into kiss after kiss. It positively melts him, and Haurchefant chases after his lips with a shudder. Once he's able to steal a breath, he presses his forehead to Aymeric's.]

Should I unmake you, I swear I shall put you back together again.

[And he wants so badly to bury himself inside and bring them pleasure both, but he is still mindful and refuses to bring Aymeric any discomfort. Another day, if Aymeric will have him again, then he will deliver.

For now, he squirms and opens the front of his trousers, sighing as he eases himself out.]

Then join me, dearest Aymeric. For us both.

[He takes one of the other man's hands, kissing and licking his palm sweetly before bringing it down. With both of their hands, he brings their cocks together, groaning at the silky heat of it. There is no playing, no toying this time; instead, he keeps his grip firm around Aymeric's hand, guiding him to stroke both of their pricks.]

[A sudden, deep moan wrings out of Aymeric's throat as the subtle but significant weight of Haurchefant's words lands on him; there have been assurances made, yes, but always phrased as I will or I shall, sweet reminders from one lover to another —

But like this, with foreheads brought together and only the sticky damp of sweat between them, with lips reddened from too many kisses and breathless words slipping from them, with sighs and heat and tenderness, Haurchefant says I swear.

It should not send such a bolt of levin straight to his cock; it does. He had not thought, in such a state as he is, that he could find himself any more aroused; he does.]

I have your vow.

[He rocks his head up, claims Haurchefant's mouth again, wet and messy and slick as the slide of his own hand stroking them down below.]

I would have others — yes, yes, ah! — I would have more. Swear your vows, grant me my own knight to favor —

[Well. It certainly seems like the both of them have discovered quite a bit about what they're enjoying from one another, suffice it to say! And what a lovely discovery it is; he listens to the moans coming out of Aymeric like it's the sweetest music, watching how the curls of his hair stick to his face.

Fury, he really is so beautiful.

Eagerly, he meets his mouth to Aymeric's when he can spare the breath, shuddering as he grinds his hips toward both of their hands.]

Yes-- [The word is gasped out when he can convince himself to part his lips from Aymeric.] Yes, I swear, all to you...!

[For him, it is not even simple bedroom talk. They are all words he means, passionate as they are.]

Mmmf...!

[It's so good, he almost doesn't even want to bother with his hand anymore, and for a fleeting second Aymeric catches himself thinking of the spectacle it would make, if he really did surrender the grip in favor of simply fitting Haurchefant's thigh between his own and rutting on him until he spent. But to do so would be inconsiderate, and deprive Haurchefant of his touch, and there's still something undeniably exquisite about the velvety weight of him in his palm, something he ultimately decides he'd be loath to relinquish.

At least he still has another hand, one which drapes over Haurchefant's shoulder and rakes nails along his back, half-embracing him and half-trapping him in his hold, keeping him close so that he's never too far from another kiss.]

All to me? To do anything I want you to...?

[His breathing is rough and haggard, but his eyes are bright and his voice deep.]

Then spend when I tell you. At my command.

[Aymeric's nails earn him a deep shiver, and alike with much of Haurchefant's reactions he barely holds back; his noises are only muted for the sake of discretion, never out of shame. It's a delicious small bite to his skin, and he could hardly oppose to it.

He stills for only a moment when Aymeric does actually assume control of the situation. Rather unexpectedly! Haurchefant is pleasantly surprised and speechless for a moment, then he swallows hard. A shudder runs through his body, and he rubs his forehead against Aymeric's.

It's a difficult thing he orders, but--]

Ah. As you command, of course.

Oh, Haurchefant —

[He doesn't quite realize, at first, how he's thoughtlessly played right into Haurchefant's budding kink by teasing out threads of his own; the words are out of his mouth on impulse, nonsense things that lovers say in the midst of the heat of passion. It's not until Haurchefant is trembling in his arms that it occurs to him that his devoted knight might well keep his word, against all likelihood or sense — that Haurchefant would try to achieve it, impossible or not, simply because he bade him to.

It's so arousing that he quite nearly spends himself, right then and there; liquid beads heavy at the tip of his cock as he shivers himself, left to bite down hard on his lip with the abrupt desperation of trying to keep from tipping over.]

Oh, mercy — you, you would, wouldn't you? You truly would.

[And more likely than not the very sight of it would push him to his brink, himself.]

Shall I let you?

[Desperate kisses are spread in quick, wet pecks across Aymeric's face and lips, his hips urge into their united hands. His moan is only soft because he minds their privacy, not out of embarrassment.]

I would beg if-- if that's what you needed to hear.

[He's panting, eagerly sinking into this newfound thrill of his. It's exciting, something new and precious he can share with Aymeric if he so desired. How difficult it is suddenly to keep himself from finishing, wanting nothing more than to make a mess of them both, but he holds back because he is not a man who shirks his orders.]

Please-- please. Let me, let us both.

I would never be so cruel to my — my sworn blade.

[The fact that he adds a faint squeeze to the next stroke of his hand suggests that it's not Haurchefant's silver fuller he's referring to, or at the very least not what he's making a somewhat saucy innuendo about.]

For me. All over me, make a mess of me, and look upon your handiwork.

[He pants, shudders, and gives one last slick stroke of him, feeling his own climax rushing up too fast to even hope to combat this time.]

Now, dearest —

Oh--

[He has to bring up his hand to bite a knuckle, else he's certain he would cry out at the pleasure surging within him. A stifled sound squeezes out as he bucks his hips helplessly, letting himself go.

He spends, harder than he has in awhile, and to think he hadn't even done much of anything to himself. Not only has it been worthwhile to enjoy Aymeric's reactions, but the way he'd taken command, as it were, was more fulfilling than he thought as well. Eyes half-lidded, he gazes down, looking toward the marvelous mess he's spilled, content to know that he has marked up the other man beautifully.]

[There is something...he daren't say holy in this, but in the very least, something that teases at darkly sanctifying. That Haurchefant came after him to rescue him from the Vault, to pluck him from the purification of the tortures the Heaven's Ward keeps deep within; it only feels right that he, too, should be the one to chase away every pious pain inflicted and replace it with sinful pleasure, to tend him and clean him before rendering him utterly filthy again.

He's panting, seemingly unable to draw in as much breath as he needs, with his eyes hazy and his lips kiss-bruised and his every limb buzzing with satisfaction too powerful to even remember his hurts. He feels nothing but floating and sees nothing but Haurchefant's adoring face, and it's a respite he doesn't deserve but accepts the grace of anyway.

And yet almost as soon as he contemplates his own bliss, something cold curls up in his chest, an awareness of how fleeting such things always are. That sooner or later this will end. That damnation for all of Ishgard still awaits outside these infirmary doors, and neither one of them can lie idle in ignorance of it.]

Please don't leave.

[But there is time, still, for a little more yet. Time to wring all the affection out of his own heart in offering and let Haurchefant's smiles fill it again with more.]

I would have this last a little longer.

Shh.

[With his clean hand, he cups Aymeric's face, looking over at him to truly drink in how lovely he is right now. Cheeks still pink, sweat on his brow, and their spend a perfect painted mess over him. There isn't anything more beautiful than that right now to him.

So finely he has taken Aymeric apart, he keeps his word: he shall put him back together again. And he would not succeed in that by simply leaving.]

You shall have me for as long as you need. Would you let me hold you?

[Such tenderness Haurchefant shows him even in so kindly a shushing. When fingers skim over his cheek, Aymeric's eyes fall half-lidded, the blue hidden beneath them both heated and dreamy.]

I would beg for it.

[A soft echo of what Haurchefant had said before. Reaffirmation of the depths of his own desire.]

Lest my treacherous thoughts drift back to the — to before. And away from you.

Never would I dream of making you beg for anything. ...Well, unless you wanted to, hm? [He offers a cheeky wink before he considers the more serious matter before them. What Aymeric has endured is no small thing, after all.]

Well, we cannot have any of that. Not right now.

[In time, Aymeric will need to process all of it, unfortunately. And though Haurchefant loathes to let him have his pain, he will ensure it is not done alone. So, for now, he shifts his weight on the bed to arrange himself onto his side next to the other man before pulling him close. His lips find Aymeric's brow.]

Take what warmth I can give you, for I give it freely.

[He would have thought he'd already blushed enough for a lifetime, and yet when Haurchefant winks saucily at him, Aymeric can't help but redden as a faint noise escapes him despite himself. But soon enough his fluster passes, and he settles slowly as Haurchefant shifts to take him in his arms, enveloping and soothing even as the spend still sticking to his belly begins to cool.]

What else do you dream of, my dearest...?

[It doesn't sound like an invitation for innuendo, but all things are presumably open to interpretation.]

Mine own are consumed with...always, ever the same. The end of the war. The future of Ishgard. Bringing the truth to light, now.

[He sighs, faint and slow.]

Would that I might dream of anything else, even for just a little while.

'Twas once that I could scarce to dream beyond my role as a knight. To know that I could fight and protect others, the truly helpless -- that was my drive for so long.

However, the Warrior of Light, they have brought us so much potential and hope. That I could even dream for anything else is blessing!

[He presses his cheek lightly to Aymeric's forehead.]

I think that, perhaps, I would like to be at your side through it all. To help usher Ishgard to where it could be. For all of your strength, I dare not think you ought to do it alone!

Hah...such lofty pedestals you afford us to stand on, myself and our dear friend both.

[But he murmurs his soft approval of the attention to his head, eyes closing, breathing evening out.]

But 'tis such a nice dream, is it not? A better Ishgard. A brighter morrow. I would give...much and more, for that.

I mean only to speak the truth, for how much I admire the two of you is immeasurable.

[Haurchefant smiles faintly to himself, watching Aymeric's eyes close. Finally, he looks close to relaxing, and Haurchefant could not be more pleased for it.]

I know it is not simple thing that will be solved over night. Yet, there is a thrill in me knowing we might attain it.

[The Archbishop must be stopped first, of course. Though he does not mention it. For now, he wishes to keep it fairly optimistic.]

Let this knight aid and shield you as needed.

My knight.

[He says it softly — not quite to the point of being drowsy, but certainly drifting on the lingering sensation of orgasm as he idles in Haurchefant's embrace.]

Could you bear it, do you think? Not just to stand at my side, but to be mine?

Bear it, you say. As if it were some sort of burden to be yours.

[Lightly, he nuzzles the top of Aymeric's head.]

I would swear myself to you in all ways. My shield, my sword, and my heart. If you would have me.

Would that it were only our hearts that mattered, and I would need not even ask.

[Gradually, he gathers up enough of his sense to remember how arms work, and reaches over a little awkwardly to find Haurchefant, faltering as he first tries to card fingers through his hair and eventually settling instead for running the tips of his fingers up and down the other man's bare arm.]

But Ishgard...

[Ishgard is such a cruel mistress. He could not love her more, even for all her wounds and stings.]

...What manner of fool am I, so focused on what lies for us ahead that I neglect the vision at my side. Forgive me. You are — [He flushes, just a little.] — romancing me still, I think, and I am failing to give your sweet words their due.

[He pauses, then tries a wry half-smile.]

You may ravish me again, with my permission and as you see fit, should my pondering grow intolerable.

[It's not quite the acknowledgement of a romantic union, is it? There is a bit of his heart sinking, though he is not bitter or angry. Perhaps just a touch sad. Ah, but how could he judge Aymeric for it? For the tasks that lie ahead of him, the responsibilities, and alas no doubt there will be more dissent in Ishgard as changes are on the horizon. It will be as Ishgard has always been: complicated, difficult, yet Haurchefant cannot help but love it anyway as well, just as Aymeric does.

But, there is promise of more physical intimacy, and that is well. If he must, he will continue to show in all manners just how loved Aymeric is.]

Tis never your pondering that grows intolerable. Only that I seek to relieve you of it, from time to time.

You have me in what manner you need, and I shall come for you when I see you require rescuing in all sorts.

I fear we shall find ourselves treading through hell long ere we find heaven, Haurchefant.

[The words escape him a little too quickly — a sliver of fear leached out through a crack his vulnerability left behind. And almost without thinking, he lowers his hand to wrap against Haurchefant's side rather than caressing his arm, his body language morphing to something more closely approximating a cling.]

Tis a fear I cannot shake. You nearly died today, brandishing your shield in my defense. What if someday I prove to be the poison that kills you?

What if — w-what if all these dreams are as much folly as my hopes of persuading my father to peace...?

Fear can be a healthy thing in the face of danger. Still...

[Gently, he squeezes Aymeric in his arms before fitting himself snugly against the other man's side, as if somehow that alone would protect him from his worries.]

Tomorrow, I could still meet my end. Not that I am eager to face it, mind you, though I have accepted as a knight that it is possible. No, I would much rather fancy the idea of seeing a brighter day with you and our splendid comrades. I will not shirk my duty, but I also wish to enjoy each moment that I can.

Even if we are to fail, would we not curse ourselves all the more for never trying for those who deserve it? For those we have yet to save? Tis not just for our sakes we fight as we do, but for others. For the pains we have endured, do we not wish to ease the burden onto others in some way?

For those we may yet save...

[He echoes the words almost reflexively, like he's testing the sound of them in his voice, and relaxes a fraction as Haurchefant wraps him up again. It's not that his fears have been altogether assuaged, exactly, but Haurchefant makes a good point; tomorrow is tomorrow, and they are yet still alive today. They may try and fail, yet truly they would curse themselves to stand idle and do nothing for fear of failing.]

Such a fount of wisdom you are, my dearest. And every word you speak rightly.

[He hesitates a moment, lingering over his thoughts.]

Do I ease your burdens in kind, for all that you do and have done for me?

HALT THE VAULT

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