thedevamper | (no subject)

There was something about the way Alcuin's sheets felt against his skin, soft and smooth like butter, expensive and rich and glorious. The lure of his sheets and company was calling to Nikola and he was too weak to resist. Really he shouldn't be calling upon Alcuin at this hour but well, he was bored and horny and he had finished his latest piece of theoretical brilliance and he wanted someone to stroke his... ego. And Alcuin was always pleased to see him, where as Helen usually was not. Especially not at this hour. Especially with his intentions.

Slipping quietly into Alcuin's room, Nikola closed the door behind him and began to remove his clothes layer by layer. He could just make out the body in bed, lying innocently asleep and waiting for him. His very own sleeping beauty to awake from slumber. Smirking, Nikola pulled back the sheets and slid into the bed sighing at the feel of those sheets against his skin.

"Alcuin," Nikola murmured as he wrapped an arm around the warm body. Hand moving against warm, delicious skin? Nikola frowned as he went to bury his nose in Alcuin's neck, his body tensing as he realised his mistake. This was most certainly not Alcuin "You're not Alcuin."

Threaded | Flat

My dreams had been troubled and ill those first nights since my arrival on that strange island, filled with faces from home asking why I did not return. Hyacinthe's was the most difficult to bear, his hand outstretched for mine as he stood on his lonely isle. Perhaps I could be forgiven, then, that when I did sleep without those dreams, it was soundly and deeply, so much so that I did not hear the arrival of an unfamiliar step in the room I shared with Alcuin. The hand was less easy to explain, save for the yearning I had to wake one morning to my consort's familiar features. To have that kind of contact was sorely missed, but this hand had none of the familiar callouses of my Casseline which made my eyes open and the voice that spoke in my ear was accented strangely and certainly not one I recognized in the least.

With a curse I would ordinarily be ashamed to use, I threw an arm back to push the strange man away, the panic of the moment overriding my more common sense. Any person sneaking into this bedroom would of course only do so with the permission of the owner, but that didn't change the matter. My voice was a panicked hiss as instinctively I spoke in my native tongue, "Who do you think you are!? What are you doing?"