Author's Note: I'm sorry if the characters are a little OOC ^^;;;;;;; Geddoe's too smart to EVER agree to this, I think.
There was scarcely any point in hiding it these days, and so it was to the thin disguise of a separate room in the inn of Vinay Del Zexay that they retired. The rest of the unit remained downstairs, thoroughly soused, but these two were inebriated in quite a different way, on a many-splendored thing. Perhaps that excuses the lapse in judgment, as one proposed to himself later on; irregardless, we will take the scene after inhibitions have been battered down and our combatants are down to purely physical barriers to breach.
Jacques slowly undid Geddoe's buttons, pausing longer than necessary with the fourth one. "Are you sure you want this?" the teasing voice asked. Geddoe swallowed, his arousal blatant to his partner just from the touch of soft fingers against his chest.
"...yes," he said.
"Are you sure?" Jacques questioned innocently. "I think maybe you should ask for it. Because I wouldn't want to do anything you didn't want, Captain."
". . ." Geddoe said, biting his lip.
"Come on," teased Jacques, "tell me you want it."
Geddoe blushed. "It's just . . ."
Jacques waited.
"I'm not used to this," he finished weakly. "I . . . I want you."
"Don't be so cold, Geddoe," Jacques breathed, panted rather, on the soft cream left exposed by what had yet been deigned to be undone. "I have a name, it's what makes me different from all those others you've been with, in all those mysterious travels of yours, remember?"
"Jacques," said Geddoe, his eyes clenched shut. "I love you, Jacques, enough to do anything for you," he said, quickly and forcefully; his partner would have settled for less, but it made the lie easier.
"That's what I was waiting to hear," Jacques said, making up for lost time. Quickly there were two shirts on the ground, lying atop one another. Geddoe's tongue thrust into Jacques's mouth, digging for fire; it relieved him of the burden of speech. Jacques's slender hands ran up Geddoe's sides in return, and for a time they spoke in the language that had been before language, but Geddoe knew that in just a few moments the torment of conversation would return.
It was later, after their bodies slick with passion had taken a brief pause for separation, that Jacques spoke again. "Tell me I'm yours, Captain," came the sigh from a heaving chest, "let me hear it."
"You're all mine," he muttered throatily.
There was a pause, and tension.
"You're all mine, Jacques," he said, defeated. Bought and purchased, the younger purred and was entered by the older. Legs tangled in arms tangled with the spritely vigor of youth and the thick, wet incantations spoken silently by forbidden tongues. Like a long-lost empire they triumphed together, conquerer and conquered, building in complexity to a glorious august climax and declining as one. And after it all, Jacques looked up at Geddoe.
"Why won't you let me look at your face?" Jacques questioned soulfully.
Geddoe gave a quizzical look; Jacques coughed, and Geddoe turned away a little.
"...it's, um, ugly," he said, flatly.
"It's not," said Jacques, "you can let me see it. Why won't you open yourself up to me?" Jacques drew Geddoe closer, head against chest. "I'll wash your tears away... cry for me, Geddoe."
Geddoe sighed. "A-"
"Ace?!" said Jacques. "How dare you speak that name to me after all we've been through?! But I can forgive you, my love, if only. . ."
". . . no, not Ace." said Geddoe. "I think," he continued, "we really shouldn't do this anymore."
"But Captain," said Jacques, "I can't survive without you."
Geddoe stared blankly. "But... it doesn't make any sense," he said. "Even if Captain Geddoe were gay, he wouldn't talk like that, or want to cry, or beg for attention."
"It's not meant to be realistic," Jacques said, "it's meant to be romantic." Grasping his hand, although that damned distant, distracted look he always had was wearing away patience rapidly.
"I don't think you do a very good Jacques either," Geddoe said thoughtfully.
"Well maybe if you would open up once in a while about your feelings," Jacques said sharply, "instead of just bottling them up, I would know what to say! You're just angry I think you and Geddoe are cute together, you homophobe."
"That's not it," protested Geddoe, with the irritating innocence of absolute truth. "I just don't see why . . . it has to be the Captain. If you wanted me to cry, shouldn't I be Augustine? It doesn't make any sense for it to be me and the Captain if we aren't anything like that, right?"
"Listen," seethed Jacques, "I give you everything, and all I ask is this one little thing, just for fun, and you can't even do that for me!"
"But," said Geddoe.
"Well, fine then. I've stopped. Are you happy? You can touch yourself from now on! I'm going to get a soda," Jacques spat, grabbing a shirt, getting dressed, and leaving.
Geddoe sat a while in thought. Then he went to the window and looked longingly at the trees.
Later, he went downstairs to the bar. Joker was pretty far gone, but everyone else turned around. "I think . . . I'll have some of whatever you're having," Geddoe said.
Geddoe chuckled. "You're old enough, I guess."
"Relax," Queen said, "she'll be back before sundown, and she'll be hoping you're waiting for her. Not that you have to be, it wouldn't hurt to make her wonder a bit. Just don't listen to Ace." She cupped her chin and smiled. "You realize it's because you spoil her, right?"
Geddoe blushed.
". . . uh, thanks," he said. He went outside sheepishly to walk under the stars.
Queen giggled once he had left; she was a little drunk. "Aw, isn't it loverly?" she cooed.
Geddoe took a drink. "Brings a tear to my eye," he said.
There was scarcely any point in hiding it these days, and so it was to the thin disguise of a separate room in the inn of Vinay Del Zexay that they retired. The rest of the unit remained downstairs, thoroughly soused, but these two were inebriated in quite a different way, on a many-splendored thing. Perhaps that excuses the lapse in judgment, as one proposed to himself later on; irregardless, we will take the scene after inhibitions have been battered down and our combatants are down to purely physical barriers to breach.
Jacques slowly undid Geddoe's buttons, pausing longer than necessary with the fourth one. "Are you sure you want this?" the teasing voice asked. Geddoe swallowed, his arousal blatant to his partner just from the touch of soft fingers against his chest.
"...yes," he said.
"Are you sure?" Jacques questioned innocently. "I think maybe you should ask for it. Because I wouldn't want to do anything you didn't want, Captain."
". . ." Geddoe said, biting his lip.
"Come on," teased Jacques, "tell me you want it."
Geddoe blushed. "It's just . . ."
Jacques waited.
"I'm not used to this," he finished weakly. "I . . . I want you."
"Don't be so cold, Geddoe," Jacques breathed, panted rather, on the soft cream left exposed by what had yet been deigned to be undone. "I have a name, it's what makes me different from all those others you've been with, in all those mysterious travels of yours, remember?"
"Jacques," said Geddoe, his eyes clenched shut. "I love you, Jacques, enough to do anything for you," he said, quickly and forcefully; his partner would have settled for less, but it made the lie easier.
"That's what I was waiting to hear," Jacques said, making up for lost time. Quickly there were two shirts on the ground, lying atop one another. Geddoe's tongue thrust into Jacques's mouth, digging for fire; it relieved him of the burden of speech. Jacques's slender hands ran up Geddoe's sides in return, and for a time they spoke in the language that had been before language, but Geddoe knew that in just a few moments the torment of conversation would return.
It was later, after their bodies slick with passion had taken a brief pause for separation, that Jacques spoke again. "Tell me I'm yours, Captain," came the sigh from a heaving chest, "let me hear it."
"You're all mine," he muttered throatily.
There was a pause, and tension.
"You're all mine, Jacques," he said, defeated. Bought and purchased, the younger purred and was entered by the older. Legs tangled in arms tangled with the spritely vigor of youth and the thick, wet incantations spoken silently by forbidden tongues. Like a long-lost empire they triumphed together, conquerer and conquered, building in complexity to a glorious august climax and declining as one. And after it all, Jacques looked up at Geddoe.
"Why won't you let me look at your face?" Jacques questioned soulfully.
Geddoe gave a quizzical look; Jacques coughed, and Geddoe turned away a little.
"...it's, um, ugly," he said, flatly.
"It's not," said Jacques, "you can let me see it. Why won't you open yourself up to me?" Jacques drew Geddoe closer, head against chest. "I'll wash your tears away... cry for me, Geddoe."
Geddoe sighed. "A-"
"Ace?!" said Jacques. "How dare you speak that name to me after all we've been through?! But I can forgive you, my love, if only. . ."
". . . no, not Ace." said Geddoe. "I think," he continued, "we really shouldn't do this anymore."
"But Captain," said Jacques, "I can't survive without you."
Geddoe stared blankly. "But... it doesn't make any sense," he said. "Even if Captain Geddoe were gay, he wouldn't talk like that, or want to cry, or beg for attention."
"It's not meant to be realistic," Jacques said, "it's meant to be romantic." Grasping his hand, although that damned distant, distracted look he always had was wearing away patience rapidly.
"I don't think you do a very good Jacques either," Geddoe said thoughtfully.
"Well maybe if you would open up once in a while about your feelings," Jacques said sharply, "instead of just bottling them up, I would know what to say! You're just angry I think you and Geddoe are cute together, you homophobe."
"That's not it," protested Geddoe, with the irritating innocence of absolute truth. "I just don't see why . . . it has to be the Captain. If you wanted me to cry, shouldn't I be Augustine? It doesn't make any sense for it to be me and the Captain if we aren't anything like that, right?"
"Listen," seethed Jacques, "I give you everything, and all I ask is this one little thing, just for fun, and you can't even do that for me!"
"But," said Geddoe.
"Well, fine then. I've stopped. Are you happy? You can touch yourself from now on! I'm going to get a soda," Jacques spat, grabbing a shirt, getting dressed, and leaving.
Geddoe sat a while in thought. Then he went to the window and looked longingly at the trees.
Later, he went downstairs to the bar. Joker was pretty far gone, but everyone else turned around. "I think . . . I'll have some of whatever you're having," Geddoe said.
Geddoe chuckled. "You're old enough, I guess."
"Relax," Queen said, "she'll be back before sundown, and she'll be hoping you're waiting for her. Not that you have to be, it wouldn't hurt to make her wonder a bit. Just don't listen to Ace." She cupped her chin and smiled. "You realize it's because you spoil her, right?"
Geddoe blushed.
". . . uh, thanks," he said. He went outside sheepishly to walk under the stars.
Queen giggled once he had left; she was a little drunk. "Aw, isn't it loverly?" she cooed.
Geddoe took a drink. "Brings a tear to my eye," he said.