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Daniel awoke suddenly, eyes opening to the darkness of his room. The absence of light from outside told him that it was still very late, and his candle had gone out. It was childish, he knew, but he couldn't sleep without some kind of light at night. Sometimes Alexander would kindly stay with him until he went to sleep so that he could blow out the candle instead of wasting it. If the Baron didn't stay, then he would come and check on the Englishman to see if he was sleeping well, and if he was he could extinguish the light at that point in time. Daniel's limbs were tangled into the sheets, and it took him a moment to free himself. Once he could move freely, he turned onto his side and reached for the bedside table. He felt the corner, and slid his fingertips across the cool, cold wooden surface.
He found the candle holder there, and he let his fingers wander onto the dish. It was nearly filled with wax. Alexander hadn't come. That thought alone sent such a pang of emptiness through his chest that it was almost suffocating. It was a pressure, a physical sensation. He was suddenly aware of the slow beat of his heart, and the heat which rushed to his face. Daniel never wanted to become attached. It was an unforeseeable event, an unexpected and powerful emotion that had taken hold of him. And now that the grip had caught him, he couldn't escape it. He tried.
Daniel tossed and turned for about half an hour. That time was filled with heavy sighs and barely audible sounds of displeasure. In the end, the ache became too strong. The craving for human contact, for acknowledgement, and for intimacy, was too much to bear. Daniel sat up straight, pulling back the sheets and slipping his legs over the edge of the bed. Setting his feet down onto the rug, he shuddered at the chill of the air. He knew his way around even in the dark, making his way over to the desk in the guest room that he was staying in, finding the lantern there. He lit it, turned it low, and hurried out the door. Daniel moved swiftly through the shadowed halls of the castle Brennenburg, never stalling more than he needed to. The stone floor was like walking on ice, and by the time he made it to the Baron's room his feet were nearly numb.
Daniel could hear Alexander breathing softly once he opened the door. The Englishman grasped at the front of his own nightgown, illuminated in the doorway only by the low burning lantern. He knew that the Baron hated being disturbed when he was sleeping, but he had no choice! Stepping inside, he closed the door softly behind him, so that the latch barely made a sound. He nearly tiptoed over to the side of the bed, setting the lantern down on the bedside dresser. That quiet click caused the older man to stir, and Daniel was struck still by the opening of those amber-colored eyes. He swallowed, opening his lips to speak, but he found his throat very suddenly tight and dry. Without a word, Alexander sighed, scooting over to create space in his large bed.
Daniel's heart soared, but fell again when the Baron turned his back. No! This wasn't what the Englishman wanted, not quite what he needed. Still the bed dipped as he climbed on, mattress sinking a little with his added weight. Daniel sat there on his knees for a moment, hands hovering, unsure of how to voice or to somehow indicate what he wanted. Finally, he reached out and took a hold of Alexander's wrist, which lay on the Baron's narrow hip. Alexander glanced over his shoulder, turning onto his back curiously. "Daniel, what is it?" He asked with a tired voice. That velvet richness was a little rougher when Alexander was tired, and Daniel shuddered. He didn't answer. Instead he raised the Baron's hand to his lips.
Those fingertips were cool to his dry lips, but smooth. Daniel kissed them one at a time, all five fingertips. He loved the Baron's hands. They were soft, but you could feel the calloused skin in places. Unlike Daniel, whose hands had the callousness not only of a writer but of an artisan, Alexander's were…unique. Daniel suspected that it had to do with his work with chemicals perhaps, or maybe the rituals. The hot, wet tip of his tongue slipped out from between his lips to catch the finger pad of Alexander's index finger. The Baron opened his mouth to speak, but no words came as Daniel took the whole tip into his mouth.
Daniel gave a wet suck, releasing it briefly before he took it back into his mouth. His tongue pressed against the underside of that single digit, letting it slide inside until his lips reached the third knuckle. Daniel closed his eyes, giving the quietest of groans as he pulled back enough to circle that finger with his tongue. He couldn't see the slight flush that it gave the Baron, but it didn't matter. It was almost a selfish pleasure, his enjoyment of this hand. Pulling back with another strong suction, that digit gave a wet pop as it slid free of his now damp lips. Eyes opened half-way, glancing to the Baron, who had raised an eyebrow.
Encouraged that he wasn't being told to stop yet, Daniel gave a slight smile. It was alright? Daniel's thumb ran up and down the underside of Alexander's middle finger now, just before he took both that one and the Baron's index finger into his mouth. Now he sucked more avidly, bobbing his head back and forth slightly. His tongue explored each callous, small as they may be, otherwise unnoticeable. These hands could bring such boundless pleasure or unimaginable pain, write an eloquent letter or draw the design of an impossible, improbable machine.
Daniel's tongue slid between those two long and slender fingers, curling and licking in an almost obscene manner. Teeth nipped at the tips when he pulled his head back, only to swallow them again. His tongue pressed and rubbed at the skin between the base of his fingers, and he was delighted to feel the Baron tense and give an audible intake of breath. To Daniel's surprise, those fingers began to move. They wiggled a little at first, and the Englishman released Alexander's wrist now that the older man was holding his arm up on his own. They pressed down on the topside of his tongue, rubbing slowly, and Daniel gave a heartfelt moan.
The Englishman's heart was racing, and his breath was becoming shallower. Fingers pressed together, Alexander pulled them back slowly and Daniel gave them a hard suck, fingers curling into the nightgown over his own knees. They thrust back in swiftly, and the Englishman made a small sound. Pulling back again, they gave another thrust. Daniel sucked them dutifully, thrilled at the feeling of them sliding over his tongue again and again. Now it was obscene, he was quite sure of it! They thrust in and out of his mouth, mimicking the motion of where else he might usually have them, and Daniel even ignored it when one short nail scratched the roof of his mouth. And finally they slipped free, trailing one long strand of saliva which glistened in the light of the lantern. It broke once they were far enough from his lips, falling to leave wetness on Daniel's chin. The Englishman was nearly trembling.
"You don't have to go this far for attention, Daniel. You don't have to use your body." Alexander's voice sounded less tired now, and Daniel swallowed the extra saliva that had gathered in his mouth. He nodded his head, smiling gently.
"I know."
"Well then, what are you waiting for?"