Thistle Drops
The jester shifts uncomfortably, his cheekbones as red as ever. "Who, me? C-Cicero's fine! Really! It's nothing… I just…"
Teatime's breath ghosts over his own. He smells of sweet rolls, likely from those honey thistle drops he's so fond of. They're medicated, providing one with a nice healing effect and the taste of fresh baked bread. More often than not, however, the jester notices Mr Teatime enjoying them for no other reason than the unique taste. Cicero swallows hard.
"L-look… it's not easy for me to say this! I don't often like most people, let alone…" the poor fellow hesitates, glancing around haphazardly with an unkempt fear in his eyes. He bites the corner of his satin pillow, gnawing on the texture with an anxious shiver.
The vampire sighs, not moving from his spot. The two are almost unbearably close. He finds a thistle drop from his inventory, opening up the wrapper and plucking the candy from it gingerly. Once he has the jester's attention, he places it against his lips, rolling it around slightly.
The keeper furls his brow curiously, opening his mouth to lick at the candy. With a finger Teatime easily pushes the orb past his lips. Cicero makes a surprised sound in the back of his throat, legs quaking treacherously beneath him.
The blonde rogue grins wickedly, placing a hand on the jester's neck as he closes the distance between their lips. When they finally connect, things begin to move rather quickly.
Teatime unleashes a flurry of hungry kisses, each one growing deeper than the last. He tries to snatch the thistle drop from the jester's curvy mouth, a play of tongue and teeth between them. Cicero shivers, tasting sweet notes of honey and earthy thistle on his taste buds. The only thing keeping the two apart now is the satin pillow held between their chests.
"Mnn!" Cicero lets a moan slip out, grabbing at Mr Teatime's shoulders for dear life. The blonde pushes him against the coffin wall with every kiss, his tongue persistent as he searches for his prize.
The jester tries his best to keep up with this game, but his heart starts to ache, as if he was being stabbed by a warm blade over and over again. Affection… s-sweet affection? By Sithis, is it truly mine?
In a moment of timid weakness, Cicero's mouth widens. He allows Teatime's serpent tongue to dive all the way in, giving him the perfect chance to steal back what had been given. By the time the exchange happens, the jester barely notices.
Cicero can't help but lean into the kiss once more, to drink him in… biting and tugging at the other's lips with frantic affection. The blonde gasps into their mouths, eyes filling with lust as they savour each other in the dark.
Mr Teatime's the first to pull away, his lips separating from Cicero's with a pop. He grabs the prize from his own mouth, a devious smirk on his lips as he admires it. Though, by now, the drop has become a mere pebble… shiny and sticky with the mixed salvia of both men.
He pops it back into Cicero's mouth, who at the moment, can't seem to care one way or the other. He's like a putty in the listener's hands… face overcome with flush and sweat.
The blonde sighs appreciatively, taking a moment to remove the troublesome pillow between them. Cicero frowns nervously, having grown quite attached to it.
However, once it's discarded, their bodies slot against each other quite pleasantly… almost like they were made to fit. Teatime runs his nose along the other man's shapely jaw, asking, "Come now, Cicero. Didn't you have something important to tell me?"
The keeper blinks twice, surprised again. "I-I… I… I'm a fool."
"I know that already." Teatime whispers in his ear, teasingly.
"No! I-I'm a fool, a fool in love!" The man exclaims, his voice filling the coffin. "T-this isn't how it's supposed to go! Listener spares the keeper, and keeper falls for the listener? T-that wasn't in the cards before! O-or was it? Don't you see, I can't tell! W-what would mother think?" He shifts uncomfortably, looking for something, anything to distract him. He starts scratching at his arms, the various voices in his head fighting for the stage.
Teatime studies his troubled face, his expression growing soft as he peers into the jester's dark brown voids. "Shh…" He soothes, running his fingernails down Cicero's arms and back… wherever he can manage to reach in such close quarters.
The jester stops his fidgeting, allowing the listener to continue. Teatime digs in just enough to cause some mild pain, a sensation that Cicero finds rather comforting in its security. "Aha…" He moans in slight surprise, eyes glazing over. It starts to numb all those tempestuous notions under the skin.
The keeper leans into the touch, and Mr Teatime's eyes wander longingly. They roam over his ginger-red braies and down to the tantalizing bit of flesh above his knee-length sock. He allows one hand to wander, sliding his fingers under the hem of his braies and digging into his thigh. Teatime scratches with the same pressure and consistency as before.
Cicero's breath catches in his throat, surprise and excitement plain on his face. He starts to pant slightly, his chest growing almost unbearably warm as it beats in anticipation.
Teatime nudges the jester's nose with his own, saying, "You know… love's such a curious thing. It hides like a thief in the night, or should I say…. Like a lonely jester in my sleeping coffin." He takes a break from scratching to rub over the marks soothingly, squeezing the expanse of muscle with his thumb and forefinger.
Cicero blushes furiously, mouth turning up slightly. He certainly hid in this place for a reason. It smells faintly of Teatime… like Christmas trees and cotton lace. Such an odd smell… He thinks to himself idly. Like something from another world, he imagines.
The blonde continues, "I guess I'm a fool just as well, because I'm madly in love with you. You fucking minx. Can't you see that? I can't keep my eyes off of you…" He scratches across the jester's thighs again. The ginger keens, trying to muffle his sounds against Mr Teatime's chest.
The cherubic blonde peers downwards and squeezes taut muscles, his hand inching further back as he goes. He's about this close to groping the man's ass, for fucks sakes. What the hell is happening to me… the assassin wonders to himself, his breathing slightly labored.
Cicero swallows nervously, a fiery warmth flowing through him. The listener truly is intoxicating like this, all sweet words and adventurous hands. The jester tries to focus himself. I can't allow myself to be tricked so easily! He thinks with a frustrated groan.
The troubled man just shakes his head back and forth, saying, "I-I don't believe you! Deceptive lies! A great jest, surely… all at poor Cicero's expense." His tears have returned, if only for the moment. The troubled jester sobs, clutching his chest tightly.
Mr Teatime pets Cicero's hair, running his fingers through ginger locks. He whispers, "Do I look like I'm jesting? Shall I prove it some more?" His eyes are all intimidation, all the time, but Cicero notices something else in them. It's a sort of vulnerability, a softness that's mellowed them out.
It's not a weakness, then… is it? Cicero realizes, his tears beginning to dry up. He feels stronger by Mr Teatime's side… just as he always has. Even now.
Cicero grab's Mr Teatime by the collar of his blouse, pulling him in as their noses touch once more. The assassin seems unfazed, his fingers continuing their motions over the keeper's upper thigh.
The flustered jester shudders, but meets the blonde's gaze with earnest eyes. The words just spill out of him like a flood. "Y-Yes, you must, Johnny! You must prove it to Cicero always!" His voice grows quieter, "Lest sweet kisses are kept from us unfairly… much like short books and good stabbings, heh heh…" He giggles anxiously, his nerves on fire. He's sure that's not going to change anytime soon, what with how well things are going. Cicero's starting to not mind it, so much… He thinks to himself idly.
Teatime grins wickedly, his teeth lit up by the faint blue glow of his clairvoyant eye. He removes the keeper's tightened fists from his blouse, lowering them to his sides. "That won't be difficult… now that I know you're mine."-