the muse in my head

William hadn't the faintest idea why he'd allowed himself to take part in this. It had started as a bet, a typical fit of crazed whimsy that could only be conjured by one such as Sutcliff. One thing had rapidly led to another somehow, and Will now cursed the fates at the fact that he and Grell were of a similar clothing size; if they had not been, then perhaps Will wouldn't have been able to allow himself to be dressed in such a… getup.

His whole body felt hot and his face seemed to be in a state of perpetual flush. This was made worse by the fact that each and every time he looked down at himself, he was faced with a vision of red lace and silk and some sheer material which left little to the imagination where it covered his mostpersonal of areas.

Honestly.

The worst part (truly) was that Will was half-hard; he attributed it to the feeling of the light, smooth fabric against him, and not the fact that it smelled like Grell or that it was Grell's favorite color or that he had seen Grell in them or that Grell was naked right now across the room. It was none of those things. It was simply biological. Emotions were not in play.

Will's eyebrow had begun to twitch.

Will watched as Grell lit the candles he'd carefully lined up across the surface of Will's dresser, naked and unashamed except for a—dear Lord—ribbon-adorned top hat he had somehow pilfered, unnoticed, from Will's closet. The smile on Grell's face was somewhat predatory (never a good sign) as he delicately lifted and lighted each of the candles, the pop-hiss of matches currently the only sound in the room save, of course, for the inexplicable pounding of Will's own heart in his ears. Grell turned his head to looked at Will, and Will felt himself heat even further, looking away and crossing his arms over his chest, half bare in the short red negligee he'd been somehow talked into wearing.

He stole another glance at Grell's body however, when Grell set about lighting the last candle, thinking to himself that no creature in Heaven or Hell should have ever been allowed to have legs—or a derriere, for that matter—like that—

He banished the lecherous thoughts from his head as he grew harder still, and crossed one leg over the other so as to perhaps hide this… emergingfact from Grell.

To be in such a state, dressed like this. Honestly.

Grell had paused, staring at the row of candles and their flickering flames, brow furrowed and a finger pressed to his chin. He held aloft a lit match in the other hand, already burnt halfway down to his fingers. Will cleared his throat.

"Please do not burn down my flat, Grell. And do mind your fingers."

Grell waved the match to extinguish it, and set it down somewhere on the dresser. Will opened his mouth to protest against unsightly sulfur stains and burns on fine mahogany, but Grell (as usual) had already cut him off.

"Don't worry about a thing darling! I was just pondering whether or not we needed more of an…" he waved a hand vigorously as if beckoning the right word to come to him, "atmospheric glow in your bedroom."

"I'm not quite sure that is necessary."

"Of course it is! It gets the muses going, no? And Heaven knows I certainly need some muses to help me out with you. It won't be an easy task to make you pretty. Not with that frown!"

Will rolled his eyes as Grell walked over to the bed, delicately clutching the brim of the top hat (honestly—Will hadn't seen that particular item since 1809—) between thumb and forefinger as he did that thing with his hips—

"Well then," Grell said triumphantly, raising a leg to rest one knee on the bed, placing his hands on his hips. Will's gaze landed on Grell's cock for a moment before he looked back up to Grell's face and sighed, wrapping his crossed arms tighter around him. "Shall we?" Grell asked, and bent forward, leaning closer to look Will in the eye, the ends of his hair sending shivers up Will's body where the soft red brushed against his thigh. "Well look at that flush you have—you don't even need any rouge!"

"Just get on with it, Sutcliff," Will huffed.

"Do calm down, dear. You know I like to take my time. Now," and with a flourish of a pointed finger, Grell slipped gracefully onto the bed, straddling Will in what seemed to be one smooth movement. Will started and tried to shift out from under Grell's hips, but it was too late. He was only able to uncross his legs before the weight of Grell's body pinned him down, and Grell's face positively lit up when he felt Will's cock against his own.

"Ooh!" Grell shifted, and Will couldn't help but suck in a gasp at the friction of contact and Grell's body heat. "Were you hiding this from me? My. I didn't think you'd get so excited by this! What a treat."

"It's not that exactly," Will mumbled, and set about absently straightening the thin straps of the negligee.

Grell had already moved on to the task at hand, leaning forward with one hand on the bed and rummaging with the other in the small purse of…feminine-looking items he'd placed on the nightstand earlier.

"I rather like this hat," Grell said, and sighed as Will reflexively reached up to push the soft fall of Grell's hair out from between them. "I'm sure it would look lovely on you if you'd wear it again," Grell continued. "Though…" Grell had found what he was looking for—a brush and a small ceramic pot of some sort of cosmetic—"I might have to borrow it. I feel so scandalous, being naked as a babe except for this…" he unscrewed the cap and tossed it onto the nightstand, where Will heard it land with a clatter. Grell set about dabbing the brush into the pot. "It's thrilling. Looking like one of those smoldering French daguerreotypes circulating about."

Will stiffened a bit when Grell touched the brush—laden with something red, of course—to his lips. The touch against Will's mouth was light and almost tickled, and he couldn't help but let his lips slightly part as he relaxed, letting Grell paint the slick, cool substance onto his mouth. When Grell removed the brush to load it up with more of the cosmetic, Will cleared his throat.

"I would venture to say that you must have a collection of such daguerreotypes by now," Will said, raising an eyebrow. It wasn't exactly a far-fetched guess; Sutcliff, of course, seemed to be attracted to the obscene like a crazed moth to a flame.

Grell laughed, and set about painting Will's lips again. "Of course. I'd love to pose for one—" Will started again, and Grell frowned. "Don't move! You've smudged it…" he wiped away a smear of red with his thumb where it had strayed from Will's lip line. "Anyway, I think I'd make a lovely model. How thrilling, to pose for an artist—"

"Must I remind you of the frightfully thin line between human society's art and pornography—"

"William!" Grell cried, rolling his eyes and tossing the brush and jar onto the nightstand with obvious annoyance. "Stop it! Honestly. Relax. Such a prude, you are… now then…"

Grell rifled around again on the nightstand, and Will heaved a heavy sigh—a sigh which garnered a brief and angry glare from Grell—who had soon retrieved the next torturous item: a stick of kohl. As soon as Grell's fingers went for Will's eyes, Will grabbed and stilled his wrist in a lightning-fast movement. Grell's eyes widened at the sudden reaction, and he drew back slightly.

"What?" Grell finally squeaked.

"My vision is quite bad to begin with," Will said. "Please keep foreign objects away from my eyes."

Grell sighed. "I wear it all the time."

"Then I suppose you are braver than I. But I will have to refuse," Will grumbled, and Grell's disappointed expression bloomed into a warmer smile.

"Oh Will," Grell sighed, placing the kohl back on the nightstand and curving his body over Will's to speak softly in his ear, "will you ever stopthinking so hard, and just…" the next word was whispered as Grell slid a hand up over Will's chest, bunching up the fabric of the negliee to (purposely, Will figured) tug it up from over the lacy red panties he had also been outfitted with, "feel..."

Will's body arched up against Grell, who let out a positively thrilled-sounding little gasp, humming a noise of approval against the lobe of Will's ear. Will closed his eye and let his hands move, finally, to touch Grell's skin, slide his fingers over Grell's hips, up his sides, gently graze across his shoulder blades. Grell's skin felt lovely, really; smooth and soft and hot, and Will felt the tension and bashfulness suddenly slip from his body as he allowed himself the sudden and pointed admission that (Grell's ridiculous methods of debauchery asides) this right now was nothing but him and Grell. There was no reason for pretense or question, or any modicum of self-conscious thought.

Honestly. The things Grell did to him—and for the past several decades—

"Love me with thy thinking soul," Grell murmured against the skin below Will's ear, pressing a soft kiss there to follow the touch of his breath.

"I believe that particular verse is from a man's point of view," William said, his voice coming out a bit more labored than he had intended.

"Well my dear, I am playing that particular role at the moment," Grell said, and pulled back from where he had nestled his face against the curve of Will's shoulder, adjusting the top hat where it had begun to slip off of his head. "Am I not?" he asked quietly, scooting back a bit onto Will's thighs so as to allow himself access to the waistband of Will's panties, along which Grell teasingly traced his fingers before slipping the tip of one underneath—

"Oh," Will sighed, eyes rolling back at the sheer indecency of such a touch, feeling somehow exposed and something between arousal and embarrassment.

"Mmm," Grell hummed, pleased with Will's reaction, as he reached his other hand up to grab the brim of the top hat, pulling it off and tossing it dramatically across the room (and for a moment Will's eyes shot open, fearing that perhaps Grell would knock over the candles, and, bloody hell, actually burn down his flat—but such a thing did not happen). "I'm afraid that this has to go right now."

And then Grell was leaning forward again, a hand planted on either side of Will's shoulders as Will's hands slid up into Grell's hair, pushing it out from between their faces as their mouths met, threading his fingers through the strands and reflexively pushing his hips up to meet Grell's.

They kissed slowly, the feeling and the taste so hot and wet and maddening, tiny sounds escaping Grell's throat as he pushed his hips (and his nowvery hard cock) down against Will's. Will could taste the lipstick on Grell's mouth—from his own mouth—sighed at the way the cosmetic made the movement of their lips that much more slick against one another's.

"Love me with thy thoughts that roll," Will couldn't help but pant out the words in between kisses, in between breath and the tease of Grell's tongue against his own, the gentle nips of Grell's teeth on his lips. He couldn't help it, because Grell was at once mad and maddening, perhaps the sort of creature that only an art such as poetry could truly describe. Will then considered the slightly amusing fact that most of—if not all of the lip rouge Grell had applied was kissed off by now, and when Grell pulled away, breathing heavily, to catch his breath, Will couldn't help but grin a little at the way the red was smeared around Grell's mouth and down over his chin.

"It seems I've made a bit of a mess, sir," Will murmured, cupping Grell's cheek in a hand and swiping off a bit of red from Grell's face with a thumb. Grell's eyes widened in surprise at Will's sudden willingness to play along, and then smiled.

"Yes you have, my lady," Grell finally replied, coy and low and somehow so deliciously dangerous, the points of his teeth glistening in the dim candlelight as he smiled. He swung a leg back over Will's body so that he was now kneeling besides him, and slid his fingers under the waistband of Will's panties once more. Will sighed, shifting his hips up so that Grell could slide the article of clothing down—slowly and carefully and torturouslydown—with a deviously eager expression on his face. Will shifted his legs to allow Grell to fully remove the panties, which Grell flippantly tossed off the side of the bed.

Grell paused for a moment to look down and admire the sight of Will with a hard cock and a mussed red negligee, reaching once again for something on the nightstand as Will's hands slid over Grell's body, pushing up into Grell's hair and back down over his shoulders to skim over his nipples. Grell's eyes shut as he moaned, stilling his rummaging hand for a moment as his mouth fell open at the feeling of Will's fingers sliding in slow circles over a nipple, then pressing—

"Will," Grell moaned, "Stop… I'm trying… to do something…"

Will stilled the movement of his hands, resting them against Grell's chest and leaning up to kiss at the side of his neck. Grell had apparently found what he was looking for, pulling away from Will's touch to settle back on the bed next to him, shamelessly stroking his own cock but for a moment, arching his back and letting his eyes close as he did so.

Will watched for a mere second before batting Grell's hand away from where he was touching himself.

Grell pouted. "But Will," he said, "You're so delicious—"

"Not without me," Will said, and slid his hands around to Grell's back to pull him closer. "What's that you have there?" he asked, pressing kisses to Grell's face, pointedly avoiding Grell's mouth so that he could respond.

"It's… it's a brush…" Grell panted, pushing his body against Will's. He pulled away and propped himself up on an elbow before leaning over Will again, brandishing what looked to be a brush for perhaps the application of facial powders (Will had no idea, being largely unfamiliar to the feminine world, as Grell liked to keep his methods of beauty a secret). It was long-handled, with a soft burst of bristles looking to be made from the soft fur of an animal, a rabbit perhaps—

"Ahh—" Will let out a sharp moan and tilted his head back against the pillow as Grell trailed the brush swiftly along Will's hipbone and lightly up the shaft of his cock. Will closed his eyes and could hear Grell's uneven breathing as he moved the soft bristles over the tip of Will's cock, and Will's hands slipped from Grell's body to fist the sheets, one hand sliding around to grip the edge of the mattress as Grell leaned down to kiss at Will's abdomen while continuing his ministrations with the brush.

"Don't…" Will managed to gasp, "don't… don't powder that—"

He could hear Grell laugh softly, a noise made slightly ragged and hoarse by lust. "The brush is clean," he said, "darling."
The soft touch of the bristles suddenly ended, and Will opened his eyes, lifting his head to look down the length of his body to find Grell there, brush discarded next to Will's hip on the bed, Grell's face wonderfully close to Will's cock—

"Why would I powder it," Grell said, trailing fingertips along Will's thighs and hips, "when I like it just the way it is?"

He took Will into his mouth, swift and suddenly, and Will moaned, hands immediately coming to rest on the back of Grell's head, fingertips twining into the silky, cool hair that spilled onto his skin, red splayed across his hips.

"Grell," Will managed to pant, resisting the urge to thrust up into Grell's mouth (a little voice in his head which was rather caught up in the moment told him that wouldn't be ladylike, after all). Grell moaned in his throat as he bobbed his head up and down, gripping Will's hips with one hand as he moved the other down to caress Will's balls, and down, further down, still—

"Grell," Will said, in a manner so urgent that Grell immediately paused.

"What's wrong?" Grell asked, pulling back and surreptitiously wiping his mouth with the back of a hand.

Will was at a loss for words, breathing heavily, gazing at Grell, and feeling his face coloring again— honestly—

Grell's face was a picture of confusion that suddenly melted into pleased discovery. "Have you not done that before?" he purred, crawling up over Will and tossing his hair over his shoulder so that he could look down at Will's face, unobstructed. "I assumed you had, before me…"

"I have," Will said, and swallowed, avoiding Grell's gaze. "It's just…" he fidgeted with his hands, reaching up to tighten his fingers idly in Grell's hair, "rather personal, if you'll agree."

Grell laughed softly and kissed Will gently on the mouth. "Relax," he murmured against Will's lips, and kissed him again, longer and slower this time, tasting Will's tongue against his. "Don't act that way, then! Though I must admit that I do love it when you blush like a virgin…"

Will grunted.

Grell giggled and slid down a bit, kissing Will's sternum through the silk of the negligee. "Let me guess," Grell said, nuzzling his face against Will's chest there, and Wills eyes rolled back at the feeling of hair brushing against his exposed skin and Grell's cock pressing, once more, against his. "If you were wearing your glasses you'd be adjusting them right about now- my blushing maiden! Never fear, just lie back and think of England, darling!"

Grell's laugh grew loud and raucous as Will shifted angrily beneath him. "That's not funny," Will grunted. "You should be more sensitive—"

"Sensitive!" Grell cried, straddling Will's hips once more and sitting back, crossing his arms over his chest. "Do you really think I don't understand? Just because I'm usually in that position doesn't mean I didn't start out being bashful—"

Will frowned.

"Sorry," Grell said, covering his mouth coquettishly with a few fingers. "I know you've no interest in my past experiences—in any case—trust me, darling. Don't you trust me?"

He leaned forward over Will again, looking down into Will's eyes.

Will looked away after a moment, his heart pounding, a sudden adrenaline rushing through his body at the consideration that he just might let Grell do this- if only because of the fact that it was Grell, and not someone else—

"So you would like to…" Will began, and trailed off.

"Bugger you?" Grell cried, eyes widening.

"That's a rather rude expression—"

"Sinfully prudish creature!" Grell interrupted. "And yes, I'd love to... since you are my maiden tonight! Unless of course, you expressly rescind your consent to such activity, but by the looks of you right now—" he cast a gaze in the direction of Will's hard cock and raised an eyebrow— "I doubt anything of the sort will happen."

Will sighed, trying to isolate and calm his apprehension at being put into such a… vulnerable state. Then again, however, it wasn't as if he was beingput into anything at all. Everything had been happening because he'd been allowing it, and if Grell wanted to try something new, then at this point, well…

Grell had already gotten to work.

He pushed Williams legs apart, then up and back gently (and Will fought the urge to resist, letting Grell do it, embarrassed though he was), rubbing his fingers over Will's sensitive inner thighs, his thumbs teasing the hot skin at the juncture of his hips as Will squirmed, whimpering low under his breath.

"Mmm… you look lovely," Grell moaned, pressing his mouth against the back of Will's thigh, pressing kisses up until he reached the back of Will's knee. He bit the skin there gently, and Will jumped.

"So lovely... in fact, I can't wait to defile you, my dear."

"Must you use such terms…" Will asked breathlessly, already beginning to relax, to accept the moment and let it flow, Grell's mouth and hands on him as he lie in a position in which he hadn't found himself in for quite some time—

and then Grell was up and leaning to the nightstand again to look for something else, and honestly, did he have to keep breaking the moment? Will kept his eyes closed, waiting, hearing the distinct noise of a container being opened and closed, and then-

"Ohh—" Will moaned at the sudden feeling of Grell's slick, cold finger against his most intimate of places, rubbing slowly and pressing ever so gently, until—

"Oh," Will exclaimed, louder and harsher this time, as the tip of Grell's finger slipped inside of him. He heard Grell moan in tandem and opened his eyes to look—Grell's eyes were closed, his mouth fallen open, obviously concentrating as he slowly slid his finger deeper into Will's body.

"Is that alright, darling?" Grell breathed, his voice barely above a whisper, eyes still closed. Will grabbed the edge of the mattress again with one hand, the other reaching up to grasp Grell's arm as he spoke—

"Yes."

Grell moaned then, softly, and opened his eyes to look down at where he was pushing in and out of Will's body, seeming fascinated by what was going on. He released his grip on the leg he was still holding upright and leaned down, moving back so that he could take Will's cock back into his mouth again.

Will moaned, loud and unrestrained now, and shut his eyes tight, the dual sensation of Grell's finger inside of him and Grell's mouth around his cock rendering him completely helpless and feeling deliciously used, somehow—completely at Grell's mercy as Grell slowly added, dear Lord, a second finger, pushing in deep and drawing out slow—and the sensation was almost too much—

"Grell," Will cried, but it was already too late—he came, shuddering, into Grell's mouth.

Will felt his face heating again, already fumbling for words of apology and explanation as Grell swallowed and pulled back, smiling.

"Been that long, has it?" was all Grell said, a terribly satisfied smirk on his face. "Or am I just that good?"

Will desperately tried to concentrate on catching his breath, lifting a hand to run it back through his own hair. "I suppose it's a combination of both," he said.

Grell moved to lie next to Will again, his cock still hard and pressed against Will's side—and Will's thoughts were now quite focused on how he would return the favor and remedy that particular problem.

"Maybe eventually," Grell said softly against Will's shoulder.

"Definitely," Will replied, before he could even think, and then his hands were roving over Grell again, his chest and back and skin, wrapping around Grell's cock and beginning to stroke as Grell cried out and held fast to Will's shoulders.

"I will prove you, dear—" Will paraphrased into Grell's ear as Grell thrust, whimpering, into his hand—"this love no fable—"

"And I will love thee," Grell responded, without even missing a beat—then again, he'd never been one to turn down a dramatic recitation of literature, no matter the occasion—practically sobbing the words out as he gasped in pleasure, hands clinging desperately to Will's body. "as a man is able."

-END-

Author's Note: This was written for the Summer of Shinigami fic swap on tumblr.

The poem Will and Grell quote (and mis-quote) throughout the fic is "A Man's Requirements" by Elizabeth Barrett Browning.

The title of this is taken from the Placebo song "Nancy Boy", though none of the lyrics really apply save for the chorus:

"and it all breaks down at the role reversal / got the muse in my head, she's universal"