"You know I'm not terribly fond of the idea of you in biting range of any mouth other than my own, but workplace hazards be what they may." Hugh kept his voice low. He had never gone about gauging Manfred's range of hearing, but he played it safe all the time.
"Braids," A tug at a lock of hair at his temple too short for anything than maybe a single bead to demonstrate. "Can't do anything with this."
Their lunch came as they talked. The server clearly got the impression the conversation was more personal than the day-to-day chatter of their usual patrons and left as soon as the plates hit the table. Hugh was popping the drumstick out of its socket when Emmrich asked about what he had in mind.
My sister, The thought came out of nowhere, but Hugh had figured this would be around the time he would start getting sentimental, nostalgic — overly hopeful. Having no idea if she was still in the church, even alive, and more besides if she would have anything to do with him. That was all it was — just a thought.
"Hmm? Oh—" It was then Hugh realized he had gone quiet for a moment longer than awkward and had been mindlessly pushing his rice pilaf around with his fork. He cleared his throat to buy himself another second or two. "Only a blessing, before the ceremony perhaps. I was going to see who would be available and more in line with the modern way of things."
His eyes sparkled. It had been a while since he'd had a trail of bites down his skin from Hugh; he might be overdue. The look settled at the touch of Hugh's hair.
"Ah, for some reason I was associating the beads with the mention of a possible pendant earlier. I'm certain that if you do want to try them, one of our friends will be able to help with your short hair."
There was a nice peace to the meal, but there was also an air of melancholy to it. Perhaps Emmrich was projecting. It could be only him feeling that way. He didn't think so, though. Not with how Hugh was playing with his food. A grain of rice had escaped and Manfred had claimed it for his napkin swan which was attempting to eat it.
Emmrich reached over to rest a hand on Hugh's shoulder. "Where are your thoughts, love?" A blessing should be all right. He'd probably ask to see it first, but Hugh knows more now about where Chantry doctrine might be hurtful toward mages.
"I'm sure they would," Hugh said neutrally as he quietly decided to himself that he would not be doing that.
Any of their friends would mean well, but it wouldn't be the same. It was times like these when he felt Harding's absences more deeply than just an abiding sense of loss. They had never spoken much of their shared homeland, and Rook hadn't been to Ferelden since he was young, but there would have been mutual understanding. An awareness of things the others simply lacked and through no fault of their own. Even Emmrich didn't quite grasp the cultural significance, but that was neither here nor there. For now, he was content with the earrings and had two whole months to sort out his thoughts in his own time.
The warmth from Emmrich's hand seeps through Hugh's coat, and he centers himself back to the present. He reached over and gave Emmrich's hand a reassuring pat.
"Just a lot to consider," Hugh said. "We can go over the finer details in private."
The neutrality and lack of answer said there was more going on that Hugh wasn't saying. Emmrich reminded himself that he needed to be patient, or at least try to be patient, as he took Hugh's hand in his. They'd taken a step forward with communication today. There were more steps to take.
"Of course. Are you finished eating? Not to rush you, as there's nothing pressing on our time today. I merely noticed that you haven't taken a bite in a time. If you are we can head back--Rather, I can head back home while you stop to speak about the earrings again, and by the time you return I'll have a list of vegetarian dishes so you have time to contemplate wines?"
And he might change. The talk of bites hadn't left his mind. But he might also speak with Myrna and see how she felt regarding his parents. He probably would not bring them back, he felt guilt at the thought of it, but there was an undeniable longing there.
Guilt sank into Hugh's stomach, heavier than anything he had eaten. Even as Emmrich observed he hadn't touched his food after some time, Hugh felt compelled to stab a forkful of whatever was in front of him. Almost out of some compulsion to avoid letting Emmrich think he had lost his appetite, always a sign Hugh was off-centered.
After fighting down the urge to choke on a mouthful of pilaf, Hugh set his fork down and gave Emmrich a reassuring smile. Things were heading in the right direction, maybe not all at once, but he held firm to that.
"Sure, think I terrorized the staff enough," Hugh tried for a joke, even though that approach rarely worked with Emmrich. "I'd best leave before they worry I'll finish off the flock."
Rook stood and slipped back into his jacket. Reaching across the table, he rubbed the ivory surface of Manfred's pate. An approximation of tousling hair playfully if the spirited skeleton possessed any hair to speak of. Manfred seemed to enjoy the gesture with a delighted his as he wiggled in his seat.
"Might take a short walk, but I'll head over to the jewelers, then head back," He said to Emmrich before leaning down to kiss his cheek. "Thank you for lunch, love. It won't take long. We can go over a wine list tonight, maybe see what we already have, rehearse the honeymoon later, and whatever else is on the itinerary. See you soon."
Emmrich was an awful liar. His friends never let him forget it, especially any time he tried his hand at any level of subterfuge. On the other hand, Hugh was often fairly good at it, especially during cards, so the fact that Hugh was so sloppy trying to convince Emmmrich he was fine was concerning. Between the look down at his food as if he could cover up how he'd stopped eating and the joke that his heart wasn't in, Hugh was clearly bothered.
It worried Emmrich. He'd thought they'd gotten somewhere upon reaching this restaurant, and now he knew he was missing something but not what. How could they get to a place where Hugh talked to him when bothered? Could they? He didn't want to imagine that they'd forever be in this state, with him having to be dramatic to find out anything, but he didn't know what to do here. Maybe he should ask their friends. It wasn't like Hugh was going to stay in place long enough for them to figure it out currently, seeing as he was getting up and fondly playing with Manfred.
Emmrich tried to keep concern out of his expression as he was kissed, nodding silently with slightly downcast eyes until the honeymoon comment had his gaze jerking back up and desire spiking in his abdomen. Hugh was gone too quickly for him to come up with a response, though. He was so weak for that man it bordered on ridiculous.
The server returned to the table and Emmrich paid before leading Manfred on a fairly quiet walk back to the Necropolis. Fairly quiet on his part, that was. Manfred clearly had enjoyed the whole day, making little comments about swans, beads, rice, and Emmrich being angry. The commentary was nice, actually, and Emmrich nodded and made affirmative noises as was fitting. Manfred was starting to make deeper connections and observations about the world around him, though his vocabulary was still limited. Emmrich wondered if he found that frustrating, not being able to communicate everything he was thinking verbally when previously Manfred had been able to seamlessly communicate near-silently with Emmmrich. He might need to see if they could work on that, make it easier, or at least help with his companion's development.
That would be a project for after the wedding planning, though. And much after Hugh returned today, because Emmrich was rather decided by the time they got back. Sex did not fix miscommunication, but it made him feel so much better, and made him feel like he could reach a better level of harmony with Hugh.
There was a group setting off for the rose maze when they returned to the Necropolis, and of course Emmrich gave an excited Manfred permission to go. His apprentice could observe the rites and enjoy the flowers, and it would take several hours which left Emmrich free to... entertain.
He returned to their rooms, located the list of vegetarian dishes he'd already been sorting out, and then relocated a heckling Johanna to the study even as he was called shameless and wanton. The door got closed. After that he went to one of his wardrobes and retrieved a box from the back that he hadn't opened in some time. In it were a few pieces of lingerie, things he'd never been sure Hugh would be interested in seeing him in but now he wanted to try out because what was a honeymoon if not for indulging and experimenting? Emmrich settled on a corset-and-lace-smalls set, along with stockings, and returned to the front room to finish the dish list while he waited.
Much as Hugh wanted to pretend he hadn't caught the disappointment and concern etched into Emmrich's expression, he knew better. He would have had an easier time staring directly into the sun and declaring that it was the middle of the night. Much like staring into the sun, the afterimage would be burned into Hugh's retinas every time he blinked the entire walk back to the jewelers.
Compounding his guilt was his diversion with that honeymoon comment that had been as apparent as Emmrich's worry. Hugh was no longer a thrill-chasing Warden seeking distraction. He couldn't fuck his way out of a difficult conversation through an engagement, let alone a marriage; he needed to grow up. As if that line of thinking did anything to improve his mood as he trudged up the winding streets of Nevarra's city sprawl.
By the time he stepped through the wrought iron gates of the jeweler's store, his thoughts were as clear as soup left on the stove too long. The elven artisan, Ortha, was behind the counter and, at the ringing of the little silver bell above the door frame, looked up and smiled as though expecting him.
"Didn't take long for you to think things over, eh?" Her voice was lilting with that Marcher accent and friendly. Her smile went crooked and she peered around him, "Where's your other half, mister tall and stately looking?"
"Tending to things back at the Necropolis," Hugh answered and offered a polite smile of his own as he ducked his head like a boy caught in a lie. "He's a professor there. It's a busy time of year for him."
"I see..." Ortha said as she put down the gilded music box she was tuning with its ballerina skeleton in a hooded gown spinning lazily to a soft tune that silenced when shut, "Lively place, that?"
Hugh snorted, "Like you wouldn't believe."
She nodded as if in understanding, but given where she set up shop chances stood that she did. Ortha then hoisted herself up over the counter and sat atop it with lithe, elven grace. Hugh had taken her for a more laidback soul and was already more at ease around her than most anyone else he ran into in the city.
"So...the earrings?" She gently prompted.
Hugh blinked and nodded, "Ah, right. I'd still like it to be a hoop around the helix, but the cut. Could that be made to look like a griffon's wing?"
Ortha hummed as she considered, then hopped off the counter and up to Hugh. Chin pinched between her thumb and forefinger, she gave Hugh a once over with her glinting pale blue eyes and came to some private conclusion.
"I can tell you prefer simpler designs compared to your Mortalitassi paramour," she observed in an even voice. I wonder if that bothers him, given how Nevarrans are with their grave gold? I imagine planning your wedding must be difficult enough."
Hugh took a reflexive half-step back and now found her pale gaze far too focused. He guessed she had to be discerning in her field, but all of a sudden, he felt like a bug pinned to a board under a magnifying glass.
"What do you mean?"
Ortha canted her head towards the display case of Ferelden hair beads. "That set over there I was telling you about? The Gwaren girl just turned three-and-twenty this year. Her groom is a nobleman twice her age. She's a band's daughter, but it seems the lord's run himself into some debts even before the South was blighted. Not unheard of, but I couldn't help that you're so..."
Hugh squared his shoulders and felt his temper twist in his belly like a coiling snake. He could see the well-meaning concern in her eyes, and it only made him want to spit.
"So what? Much younger? Thank you, I wouldn't have noticed without your-"
Ortha cut him off, "So out of your element and looking as if you don't know where to stand on your own two feet here. A wealthy, older gentleman doing most of the talking while his reticent fiance looks like he's fighting to get every word he speaks out turns heads, dear. Even in Nevarra."
"It's not like that." Hugh flushed and looked down at the floor. Emmrich was twenty-four years his senior. Hugh had barely turned thirty when they had met. It was never a problem, he selmdom even thought about it. No one had ever given them grief for it beyond Harding's occasional needling, but they hadn't exactly been walking the city square regularly either.
"No, it's not; I knew that for certain, anytime you turned away, that man had the most besotted look on his face." Ortha chuckled again, and there was an unmistakable warmth to it. She then looked at him in that kindly way of hers, "But these...disparities between you two, it's clear that this was something neither of you was prepared for. How long have you been together, if I may ask?"
"A...a little over a year." Damned if she didn't hit the nail on the head. He and Emmrich hardly veered out of their tight circles between the Lighthouse and the Watchers.
"I wish you many more," Ortha squeezed his arm, "You're no blushing bride from Gwaren making a tough choice. Come by in a fortnight, and I'll have the preliminary mold ready for you to look at."
They chatted a while longer, and before long, the evening sky had started to darken into deep oranges and bruised purples. Hugh excused himself, but as he was leaving.
"By the way, is that music box for sale?"
It was late into the evening when Hugh had finally made it back to the Necropolis. His legs were pleasently sore from taking the long walk back. Eluvians were grand, but sometimes, a man just needed to stretch his legs to clear his head. Hugh hadn't lingered to chat with anyone he passed in the Necropolis before making it to the elevators that lead to the lower levels where senior Watchers resided.
"I'm back!" Hugh called into the front hall as he shrugged off his coat and walked into the front room.
Emmrich was there in his peripheral vision, and Hugh only noted that he was in a dressing gown and wondered why Emmrich was preparing for bed so early in the evening. Hugh didn't ponder long as he set the wrapped package with the music box inside on the table set between to chaise lounges and collapsed into one with a loud and overly dramatic groan.
"Maker, there aren't enough hours in the day," Hugh griped as he kicked off his boots and flung an arm over his eyes as he sprawled out. "Where's Manfred? I bought something for him at the jeweler."
The longer Hugh took to return, the more Emmrich had to remind himself to breathe. Nevarra City was safe. Beyond that, Hugh was still not secure in himself as just himself. Perhaps time walking around alone would help. There was a chance that Emmrich was trying to do too much for and with Hugh, and was stifling him, too. He didn't know. He had no idea how to support an adult finding themself, other than he was quite certain that it wasn't the same as with a young student. A shame, that, since he was very good at helping young students. It was also probably different because of the level of investment Emmrich felt in Hugh. He loved Hugh. He wanted decades alongside the man in life before they joined each other in eternity.
And it wouldn't happen if he suffocated the man or drove him away. So he'll be patient, and while there was no shutting up the fears and anxieties that always reared their eager heads whenever Hugh got closed off, he would try harder to work through them internally.
The dishes list, cake options, non-wine beverage choices, and even the table settings were looking in order by the time Hugh returned. A tired-seeming Hugh, no less. Asking after Manfred also meant the suggestion earlier had probably escaped his mind entirely. Emmrich felt a bit ridiculous to be wearing what he was wearing now. At least he had the robe.
"A group reviewing the rituals in the rose maze was setting off as we returned, and he was eager to join in. They won't be back for hours yet, I'm afraid." He kept his voice soft, because that was the easiest way to keep any emotion other than the usual warmth he felt toward Hugh out of it. He didn't want any trace of disappointment to be audible, even as he shifted to try to make sure it wasn't obvious that he'd been half-hard.
It was good Hugh was thinking of Manfred, though. There was attachment there. They were a family, as oddly shaped as it was. "It's good for his development, too, as he forms greater social connections with mages who will be his peers, more or less."
The non-living Watchers were fully a part of the order, but there was sometimes a divide. Vorgoth integrated well enough with everyone, but even Keepsake and Curio weren't as amiable with some of other Watchers as they were with Emmrich and Myrna. They weren't seen quite as equals, which was such a loss to those who thought the living superior. Emmrich hoped that Manfred spending time among living students would help both him and them. Especially as Emmrich would not immortal, and thus wouldn't always be around to support Manfred.
"You seem worn out. Am I reading that right?" If Hugh is, Emmrich can go 'use the restroom' and change out of this for another time. "Did your meeting with Orthra go well?"
"A shame," Hugh said as he stretched out until the spaces between the joints of his spine and shoulders cracked pleasently. "I was looking forward to his reaction. It's a little music box. I couldn't place the tune, but it's got this little gold ballerina that spins. Still, who am I to stand in the way of the academic growth of Curiosity itself."
Well, technically speaking, Emmrich bought the music box. Anything Hugh carried on his person had come from Emmrich's coffers. It turned out the Grey Wardens didn't have hazard pay, and there weren't any salaried positions in saving the world twice over. That had never bothered Hugh, but he had always tried to keep his purchases practical and frugal. Weapons maintenance, a sturdy pair of boots, and maybe the occasional pastry when out in the city, but nothing overly indulgent. It didn't feel right, even if they were engaged. This little moment of spontaneity for Manfred was perhaps out of character, but the moment he saw the little jeweled figure dance, his mind was made.
"Hours, you say?" Hugh sat up then, latching onto that little detail as soon as it and its subtle meaning registered.
"Well as it could, I don't really have the head for all that," Proped on his elbows, Hugh was making no effort to hide his eyes roving up the length of the figure Emmrich cut in the rich velvet and silk of his dressing gown. Forgetting almost entirely the awkward conversation he had with the artisan as he waved Emmrich over, "Just catching my breath after the jog back, come here and fill me in on how you've come along."
With his legs stretched out and his frame dominating the rest of the chaise, Emmrich had nowhere to sit but on Hugh if he did care to join him.
"You can still see his reaction when you give it to him later," he said, warmed by the thought of what Manfred would think. "I think he'll appreciate it, especially as it came from you."
Where the money technically came from didn't matter. Emmrich had plenty of it, more than he needed, and it was for their use, all of them. He even regularly gave money away and there was still a ridiculous amount. Sometimes he wondered if that too was a stumbling point for Hugh, especially as Hugh said he didn't have the head for 'all that.' His love is smarter than he thinks, better than he thinks, and Emmrich wished there was a way to convince Hugh of that.
At least he could clearly, conclusively, prove to Hugh that he was wanted. He hoped Hugh knew it was for more than his body, though he had to. Obviously he had to. No one would marry someone if they thought it was that shallow, and now Emmrich was overthinking everything.
It was absolutely time to get out of his own head. Especially as he was looked over like that. Emmrich picked up the papers he'd filled, bringing them over to set on the table next to Hugh as if he thought they'd actually go over things. He doubted they'd make progress for a bit, as clearly the only seating option was to straddle Hugh's lap, and straddling him rucked up the robe to show off bare lower legs.
"I made progress in a few areas, and I think I've got a good assortment of vegetarian dishes chosen. I've also narrowed down cake flavors to five that we both liked, though I think I'd like you to narrow it further, when you feel up to it." He leaned forward to kiss Hugh's forehead to try to ease any pressure that roused, showing more skin at the drooping v of his robe as well.
"Ah, you have a point. " His voice had a note of disappointment, but only just.
Hugh was still navigating where he and Manfred fit. The jokes about being his spell-slinging skeleton son were all in good fun, and he could play rock-paper-scissors with the spirit until the cows came home, but he did want to foster a connection not only because of Emmrich. Manfred was growing into his own person, and Hugh wanted to say he had a part in that. Even if there were no denying Manfred would long outlive them all, he looked at it from Emmrich's perspective. That's what family wanted for each other, after all, right?
There was no disappointment on display when Emmrich slid onto his lap. Far from it, in fact, as amber eyes lit up, and in an instant, any exhaustion fled from Hugh. He jostled in the chaise to prop his back on the chaise's armrest and get a good view of the sight before him. Emmrich's lean, solid body with pale olive skin that was as smooth as the silk he was wrapped in. Hugh made a pleased little him as he ran his hands up the length of Emmrich's legs from his knees to his thighs, fingers teasing the hem of the robe.
"You were swaying me towards that one with the hazelnuts," Hughs said as he toyed with the sash, tying Emmrich's dressing gown together while keeping up the charade. It was cakes he had on his mind. That was true, however. Hugh (in)famously didn't care for seeds or nuts for a man with a seemingly endless appetite. "Never cared for them before, but you've certainly broadened my palate."
It was while running a hand up Emmrich's thigh that he noticed he wasn't feeling cool, dry skin but the give of something more delicate and gossamer.
"Stockings?" Hugh blinked as he gazed down, the implications not connecting. "Bit over dressed for bed, love."
He made a mental note to see why Hugh was disappointed later; surely a music box would keep? But there were far more important things to think about, like the muscles below him, and the warm slide of Hugh's hands over his legs.
"I do have a fondness for hazelnuts, but I enjoy a great many things. You've expanded my palate in return, darling," he said as his hands trailed up the front of Hugh's shirt, fingers brushing along the lines of his love's jaw after that. "But the spice cake was delightful. The coffee flavoring in the other was rich, and I believe our friends have all developed a taste for coffee. Neve's desire for sludge notwithstanding. Lavender was also a lovely contender, and the carrot was unforgettable. We have five fantastic options."
He was going to say something else, he was sure of it, and then Hugh was confused by the stockings. Emmrich looked down before looking back at Hugh, blinking. Right. Of course. He should have remembered how unfamiliar with anything outside of simple fucking Hugh was.
"You mentioned biting at lunch, love. And then followed up with a mention of practicing for our honeymoon. I'm dressed for bed." Emmrich met Hugh's gaze and held it as he replaced his partner's hands on the tie of his robe and undid it. The gown didn't fully slip open on its own, so he took Hugh's hands and guided them to the sides before releasing his partner. He wanted to see Hugh's reaction to the full reveal.
"I'm still casting my vote of no confidence on the coffee one," Hugh retorted with his tone edging towards petulance. For a man who had grown in want and never turned away the opportunity to satiate himself when he did decide to be picky, it was unlikely that he would give ground. "I guarantee Lucanis will find it is lacking in some way only his more expert palate can't fathom, and I just didn't think it was sweet enough. As for the carrot, well, I found it grand, but half the dinner guests might tar and feather us for involving root vegetables with dessert. Also, I never tried the lavender one. I thought the baker was taking the piss."
Beyond brewing rose hip for tea and dandelions for wine, Hugh had no idea that lavender was edible, let alone a popular choice for sweets. He shrugged and mentioned he'd try it now that Emmrich's proven it wasn't some strange ploy by the local patisserie to poison them.
The running commentary on cakes ended when Emmrich drew Hugh's attention back to explaining the sheer fabric running along the slender legs caged around his thighs. It did have him the excited sort of curious that made sitting still hard. Hugh watched Emmrich as his hands were maneuvered with no resistance on his part.
Silk robes rolled down Emmrich's shoulders in a smooth motion, dew rolling down flower petals. The rustle of fabric was the only thing Hugh could hear as his mind blanked and static filled his ears. Ribbed fabric, intricately and delicately patterned, caged Emmrich's already tapered waisted with clasps connecting its hem to an even more sinfully gossamer set of smalls that did nothing to hide Emmrich's semi-aroused cock. Lace, silk, and more lace the color of chantilly cream that Hugh wanted to run his tongue over and devour.
"I—" What were they talking about earlier? What even happened earlier? What was his own name again? "Right. Bed."
They'd revisit lavender and spice cakes later, clearly. As much as Emmrich loved hazelnut, he wanted Hugh to pick one of the other two. Everyone who knew Hugh by now knew he didn't like candied nuts. There were already going to be too many elements of the wedding that were purely Emmrich's doing; the cake needed to not be one of them.
And that was exactly the type of anxiety that he was trying to avoid dwelling on and why he'd come over to Hugh's lap, so it was going to wait for later. The way he was being looked at now that the robe was off said Hugh was very ready to move on for now.
Emmrich smirked, losing himself in how it felt to be so desired by the man he loved.
"Yes, bed, darling. But more for recreation than sleep. I do hope you're not opposed." The robe had stopped at his elbows, an excellent backdrop, especially as he got back to his feet so Hugh could see the whole show.
Emmrich turned his back and dropped the robe off one arm so Hugh could take in all of that angle too before he headed to the bedroom and paused in the doorway to lean against the doorframe.
"Are you coming to the bedroom, Hugh?" He was having fun with this, desperately needed fun. Sorting things out was also desperately needed, but he'd reached his fill of struggling there for the day.
Any recollection of the past few hours had quit the field of Hugh's mind as he drank in the sight before him. Emmrich never failed to captivate, and he had a knack for keeping Hugh on his toes. These little surprises demonstrated how narrow Hugh's view on intimacy had been for so long, but he certainly wasn't complaining. More than his sense of curiosity was getting sated tonight.
"Recreation..." Hugh echoed, amused as he was dumbfounded that Emmrich made it sound like they were about to play a hand of cards while looking like sin on legs. When given an out he'd never take, Hugh shook his head like a wet dog. "No, no opposition here."
The robe pooled in Hugh's outstretched arms as he watched Emmrich slide off him, mind frozen like the rest of him. Any other time, he would have taken Emmrich in his arms and pinned him to the chaise, but he was mesmerized. This was all new to him, but he would be more than happy to get used to it.
Then Emmrich was leaning on the doorframe, flowing down the hall like smoke, and Hugh was on his feet. He nearly stumbled over, his balance no better than a colt as he stumbled around the chaise and knocked an unlit sconce off a nearby table.
"I— uh-huh, coming," Hugh was down the hall and tumbling over the threshold into the bedroom. The robe was thrown haphazardly over a chair as he started to hop one-legged out of his boots while alternating between fighting with his belt buckle. While Hugh struggled with his clothes, he continued to stare at Emmrich's choice of attire. "You— that new?"
He'd laugh if he didn't worry it might be taken the wrong way. Emmrich sat down on the edge of the bed, watching Hugh frantically start undressing. He absolutely still had it.
"Not new in the least," Emmrich answered. "But I feel a honeymoon calls for testing out interests that may be new to one or both parties. There's a certain expected hedonism that is liberating, allowing for new risks and new discoveries. So let's try something out, shall we, Hugh?"
His partner was already a delicious mess, and Emmrich intended to make him even more of one. He spread his legs. "Come kneel like a good boy. And pick a word that you'll say if you want whatever we're doing to stop, and it stops right that instant. You're also free to test out ideas, and my word will be..."
Briefly he considered, looking around the room. This should have been something he picked beforehand, but he's been preoccupied. "Skeletal." It's a word he uses fairly often, but never in the bedroom. It should be fine.
The problem with a good set of boots was, when new, the leather was stiff and until worn in a bitch to get off. After hopping around like a panicked hare caught in a snare, Hugh was ready to draw the knife strapped to his thigh. With a stream of mumbled curses, the boots came off, and somehow, he retained his balance.
In a bid to get to a state of undress as quickly as possible, Hugh had retained half of what Emmrich was saying. Hard to be attentive when fighting with trouser laces and, well, already rather hard yourself.
What pricked up his ears was Emmrich's little pet name for him, which was rarely utilized and only ever in the bedroom. Down to his smalls, Hugh dropped his shirt and trousers and looked at Emmrich with pupils blown wide in the low candlelight.
Without another word between them, Hugh stalked across the room before going to his knees and sliding between Emmrich's legs. It was comfortable, knees cushioned on an Antivan silk rug and the lace of Emmrich's stockings soft against his skin.
"A word?" Hugh wondered what his lover had in mind that they would even consider stopping, but he had no reason not to go along. Dressed like that, Emmrich could have asked him to crawl across hot coals, and he would have readily obliged.
Then, with a crooked smile, Hugh looked up from Emmrich's thighs and said,
That settled that: he was vetoing hazelnut as an option for their wedding cakes. But he could say that later. Later, when he didn't have this beautiful man between his legs.
"Well done, beloved. You're being so good for me."
Emmrich threaded the fingers of one hand into Hugh's hair and urged the man's head forward, closer to his groin. It felt odd to take power over Hugh like this, but he was turned on nonetheless, and he had a feeling that Hugh would be thrilled by this. There'd been signs.
"Pleasure me, Hugh. Tongue, hands if you wish. Bring me close to the edge, but not over. I intend to be inside you... after a few steps."
"I can do more than good," Hugh said with that self-assured smile still plastered across his face. Not that they were alone, Hugh could breathe easy and sink into the intimacy of the moment as if it were a hot bath after a long day.
The shape of Hugh's mouth bends from a grin to an open gasp as Emmrich's fingers tighten in his hair, drawing him forward. His hair was a leash, and Hugh knew when to heel. It was never rough enough to hurt. Emmrich could always balance that line between pain and pleasure. Part of Hugh was silently begging him to cross it — he liked the hurt and knew he could take it.
"A few steps?"
Hugh spoke with his mouth against the jut of Emmrich's pelvis, tasking the fragrant oils he bathed in mingled with sweat and the floral scent of the dried flowers Emmrich folded into his clothes. It was a heady bouquet like a rich red wine he could get drunk on.
Not waiting for an answer, Hugh assessed what he had to work with. The lace smalls were harnessed to the stockings at Emmrich's thighs and looked delicate, not to mention expensive. As easily as Emmrich could have everything replaced, Hugh doubted he'd be hearing 'good boy' any time soon if he tore right in.
Instead, he crooked his fingers over the hem of Emmrich's panties and carefully pulled them down. Emmrich's long and flushed cock was already erect and pressed against his sinewy, flat abdomen. Hugh was quick to wrap a hand around the base and suck his love down, tongue-teasing his slit and moving his head in shallow motions that only took Emmrich in halfway. All the while, his eyes flitted up to the man conducting the show, watching for Emmrich's every reaction.
He raised an eyebrow at Hugh and his fingers tightened significantly in his lover's hair for a few moments.
"Did I say you could ask questions, or did I tell you what to do?" His grasp loosened for the moment as he waited to see what Hugh's response would be. Wisely Hugh chose to start behaving, and Emmrich moaned as he was freed from the constriction of the lace. That, of course, was followed quickly by a lower, deeper sound as Hugh got to work. The wet heat of Hugh's mouth was perfection, and the flick of his tongue magnificent itself. But it could be better. He could be taken in the whole way.
Knowing from previous experience that Hugh liked some more roughness, Emmrich once again tightened his grip on Hugh's hair and pulled, hard. This time he kept the pressure up as he traced Hugh's jaw with one of the knuckles of his other hand.
"You could do better," Emmrich groaned. Normally he'd take what Hugh was giving gladly, being teased was fun, but he was trying to dominate the man here. He needed to take some control instead of simply enjoying it as it came.
"Do your best, and receive my best, Hugh. Otherwise..." There was threat in his voice... or at least his best attempt at threat. Emmrich was perhaps not the greatest actor, but he was trying.
Oh, so this is how the evening was going to go. When Emmrich took the reins, he was ordinarily all whispered praise and petting. The pain sweetly radiating from the back of Hugh's skull and honeyed-worded threats of being denied promised an interesting change of pace. That roused more enthusiasm out of Hugh, from the flush coloring his face to the pooling heat in his groin.
Laying his hands flat against Emmrich's knees, he tested the waters by widening the man's legs enough to kneel closer. One finger hooked under the strap connecting the whole ensemble and pulled, testing its give before letting it snap against the softer flesh of the man's inner thigh.
It was a bit of a gamble, but Hugh didn't give Emmrich must opportunity to retaliate or react as he took him into his mouth to the hilt. The back of Hugh's throat ached as he adjusted before moving with slow, deep bobs of his head as the brackish taste of pre coated his tongue.
Emmrich was more than happy to spread his legs further. Having Hugh's eyes on him had perhaps become an addiction, but as there was no harm from it he could hardly be blamed for seeking no cure. The sharp, brief pain of the strap's snap got a gasp out of him, his eyes closing barely longer than the sting lingered. He'd never played with that sort of sensation before, and was a little surprised by how he'd liked it.
He swallowed to get some focus back... and promptly lost it as he was taken in fully.
"Good-- good boy," Emmrich said breathlessly. "So good for me, Hugh." Hugh's throat was tight around him and his tongue was perfect. So many times his love's mouth had been enough, and still easily would be, but Emmrich had voiced a promise of sorts. He pulled Hugh's hair.
"Enough of that." He'd never have enough of it, and they both knew it. "Stand, undress the rest of the way, get into the drawer, and pull out the oil and one of the penetrating toys."
Meanwhile Emmrich scooted back, toward the head of the bed, and moved the pillows so he'd have one behind him as he leaned against the headboard. He unhooked the first three hooks on the front of the corset, expecting Hugh to see what he was doing so his partner could continue it when told.
"And then come here." After spreading his legs wide again, Emmrich patted the bed between them.
The way Emmrich's sharp inhale when silk struck tender skin punctuated his praise was music to his ears. It was almost enough that Hugh nearly wanted to flip the script and wrench back control to see what other sweet sounds he could scare out of his lover. But only almost because his curiosity to know what Emmrich had planned won out.
"Ah—!" Hugh gasped when his head was yanked back, cut short when his teeth clenched shut with a hiss. Emmrich pulled with greater force than he ever had before, and Hugh couldn't deny it did something to him.
For a man who had earlier that very day chastised Hugh about having lived a life following orders, Emmrich had a talent for giving them. At least, these were orders Hugh had been all too happy to follow. Obliging, Hugh stood and stepped out of his small. He kicked the green, fraying fabric across the darkened room. He stretched himself out before rounding the bed towards the drawer on Emmrich's side. All the while watching his lover out of the corner of his eye, not wanting to miss one detail of the display laid out before him.
There was a moment's hesitation after Hugh opened the drawer and rummaged for what was requested. There were two toys, and ultimately, Hugh settled on the smaller one. Unless Emmrich told him otherwise, Hugh went for something he knew they were both comfortable with. The little vial of oil he almost wanted to open now, knowing the smell of clove now had the same effect on Emmrich as it did a tabby rolling in a patch of catmint.
In the end, however, he left both on the bed within arm's reach of where Emmrich reclined. The mattress dipped, and Hugh climbed on, moving steadily on hand and knee towards Emmrich until he was sitting between his legs, watching the other man expectantly. Playing along, Hugh decided to speak when spoken to for the remainder of the night and let Emmrich call the shots.
He watched Hugh with an approving, hungry gaze. Every aspect of Hugh's body added to the beautiful whole of it. It truly was art as he'd told his love before, art that he savored experiencing every time. Emmrich could hardly be blamed if his gaze lingered on one particular aspect of it, not when Hugh's fantastic cock was on display.
"You're so well-behaved," he said warmly when Hugh did as instructed. While he definitely wouldn't mind a bit more defiance after that snap, it was also gratifying that his partner trusted him so fully in this. Not that Emmrich had ever given Hugh cause to doubt him in bed, but it was still a comforting fact.
Now he had a choice to make: more sensation, or show. Emmrich wanted both. The former first, then. And if he got impatient, he could always get a good show another time.
"You saw how I started opening this," Emmrich said, gesturing at the corset. "And you expressed jealousy at the thought of me receiving bites from any source either than you earlier. Your next task is simple. Finish opening this and mark me, Hugh. Cover me in signs of how much you want me."
He had enough collars that could hide anything that needed to be hidden. Emmrich stretched out, watching Hugh, trying to pretend that he wasn't breathing a little harder in anticipation.
Their eyes had met more than once as Hugh moved around the bed. Hugh had been more subtle in his appraisal of his lover, but the looks that lingered matched in lust. When they were alone, Emmrich always unfurled beautifully. From the way his posture relaxed to how his salt and pepper hair became tousled over his widow's peak. Knowing he was the cause of that drop in Emmrich's impeccable decorum had delighted Hugh without fail every time. Even being the commanding presence tonight, Emmrich was still gorgeously coming undone.
"Only for you," Hugh chanced at breaking his silence then because it was true.
He crawled further up the bed until he and Emmrich were a hairsbreadth apart. Even in the low light, Hugh could see the heat in Emmrich's hazel eyes as well as the rise and fall of his chest as his love tried to steady his breathing. The sight was enough to drive Hugh spare, and now he really was worried he might rip something now that he was given cart blanche to leave his mark.
"I think I can manage," Hugh rasped as he collected himself. His cock twitched from the thought alone of Emmrich rubbing at tender bruises the next morning under his perfectly starched collar.
Hugh popped one of the hooks of the corset open as he broke the gap and kissed Emmrich hard enough to push him into the headboard. His hands busied themself on each complicated little button and eyehook as he then started to mouth at Emmrich's neck and shoulder. Every kiss became more prolonged, showing more teeth until he was sinking his teeth with just enough pressure to leave a mark. Each time, he stilled, then bit harder or let up once he gauged Emmrich's reaction. It was a bit like a game, and once the corset was fully undone, Emmrich's neck and shoulders were pelted with reddening marks.
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"Braids," A tug at a lock of hair at his temple too short for anything than maybe a single bead to demonstrate. "Can't do anything with this."
Their lunch came as they talked. The server clearly got the impression the conversation was more personal than the day-to-day chatter of their usual patrons and left as soon as the plates hit the table. Hugh was popping the drumstick out of its socket when Emmrich asked about what he had in mind.
My sister, The thought came out of nowhere, but Hugh had figured this would be around the time he would start getting sentimental, nostalgic — overly hopeful. Having no idea if she was still in the church, even alive, and more besides if she would have anything to do with him. That was all it was — just a thought.
"Hmm? Oh—" It was then Hugh realized he had gone quiet for a moment longer than awkward and had been mindlessly pushing his rice pilaf around with his fork. He cleared his throat to buy himself another second or two. "Only a blessing, before the ceremony perhaps. I was going to see who would be available and more in line with the modern way of things."
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"Ah, for some reason I was associating the beads with the mention of a possible pendant earlier. I'm certain that if you do want to try them, one of our friends will be able to help with your short hair."
There was a nice peace to the meal, but there was also an air of melancholy to it. Perhaps Emmrich was projecting. It could be only him feeling that way. He didn't think so, though. Not with how Hugh was playing with his food. A grain of rice had escaped and Manfred had claimed it for his napkin swan which was attempting to eat it.
Emmrich reached over to rest a hand on Hugh's shoulder. "Where are your thoughts, love?" A blessing should be all right. He'd probably ask to see it first, but Hugh knows more now about where Chantry doctrine might be hurtful toward mages.
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Any of their friends would mean well, but it wouldn't be the same. It was times like these when he felt Harding's absences more deeply than just an abiding sense of loss. They had never spoken much of their shared homeland, and Rook hadn't been to Ferelden since he was young, but there would have been mutual understanding. An awareness of things the others simply lacked and through no fault of their own. Even Emmrich didn't quite grasp the cultural significance, but that was neither here nor there. For now, he was content with the earrings and had two whole months to sort out his thoughts in his own time.
The warmth from Emmrich's hand seeps through Hugh's coat, and he centers himself back to the present. He reached over and gave Emmrich's hand a reassuring pat.
"Just a lot to consider," Hugh said. "We can go over the finer details in private."
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"Of course. Are you finished eating? Not to rush you, as there's nothing pressing on our time today. I merely noticed that you haven't taken a bite in a time. If you are we can head back--Rather, I can head back home while you stop to speak about the earrings again, and by the time you return I'll have a list of vegetarian dishes so you have time to contemplate wines?"
And he might change. The talk of bites hadn't left his mind. But he might also speak with Myrna and see how she felt regarding his parents. He probably would not bring them back, he felt guilt at the thought of it, but there was an undeniable longing there.
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After fighting down the urge to choke on a mouthful of pilaf, Hugh set his fork down and gave Emmrich a reassuring smile. Things were heading in the right direction, maybe not all at once, but he held firm to that.
"Sure, think I terrorized the staff enough," Hugh tried for a joke, even though that approach rarely worked with Emmrich. "I'd best leave before they worry I'll finish off the flock."
Rook stood and slipped back into his jacket. Reaching across the table, he rubbed the ivory surface of Manfred's pate. An approximation of tousling hair playfully if the spirited skeleton possessed any hair to speak of. Manfred seemed to enjoy the gesture with a delighted his as he wiggled in his seat.
"Might take a short walk, but I'll head over to the jewelers, then head back," He said to Emmrich before leaning down to kiss his cheek. "Thank you for lunch, love. It won't take long. We can go over a wine list tonight, maybe see what we already have, rehearse the honeymoon later, and whatever else is on the itinerary. See you soon."
With a wink, Hugh pulled away and departed.
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It worried Emmrich. He'd thought they'd gotten somewhere upon reaching this restaurant, and now he knew he was missing something but not what. How could they get to a place where Hugh talked to him when bothered? Could they? He didn't want to imagine that they'd forever be in this state, with him having to be dramatic to find out anything, but he didn't know what to do here. Maybe he should ask their friends. It wasn't like Hugh was going to stay in place long enough for them to figure it out currently, seeing as he was getting up and fondly playing with Manfred.
Emmrich tried to keep concern out of his expression as he was kissed, nodding silently with slightly downcast eyes until the honeymoon comment had his gaze jerking back up and desire spiking in his abdomen. Hugh was gone too quickly for him to come up with a response, though. He was so weak for that man it bordered on ridiculous.
The server returned to the table and Emmrich paid before leading Manfred on a fairly quiet walk back to the Necropolis. Fairly quiet on his part, that was. Manfred clearly had enjoyed the whole day, making little comments about swans, beads, rice, and Emmrich being angry. The commentary was nice, actually, and Emmrich nodded and made affirmative noises as was fitting. Manfred was starting to make deeper connections and observations about the world around him, though his vocabulary was still limited. Emmrich wondered if he found that frustrating, not being able to communicate everything he was thinking verbally when previously Manfred had been able to seamlessly communicate near-silently with Emmmrich. He might need to see if they could work on that, make it easier, or at least help with his companion's development.
That would be a project for after the wedding planning, though. And much after Hugh returned today, because Emmrich was rather decided by the time they got back. Sex did not fix miscommunication, but it made him feel so much better, and made him feel like he could reach a better level of harmony with Hugh.
There was a group setting off for the rose maze when they returned to the Necropolis, and of course Emmrich gave an excited Manfred permission to go. His apprentice could observe the rites and enjoy the flowers, and it would take several hours which left Emmrich free to... entertain.
He returned to their rooms, located the list of vegetarian dishes he'd already been sorting out, and then relocated a heckling Johanna to the study even as he was called shameless and wanton. The door got closed. After that he went to one of his wardrobes and retrieved a box from the back that he hadn't opened in some time. In it were a few pieces of lingerie, things he'd never been sure Hugh would be interested in seeing him in but now he wanted to try out because what was a honeymoon if not for indulging and experimenting? Emmrich settled on a corset-and-lace-smalls set, along with stockings, and returned to the front room to finish the dish list while he waited.
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Compounding his guilt was his diversion with that honeymoon comment that had been as apparent as Emmrich's worry. Hugh was no longer a thrill-chasing Warden seeking distraction. He couldn't fuck his way out of a difficult conversation through an engagement, let alone a marriage; he needed to grow up. As if that line of thinking did anything to improve his mood as he trudged up the winding streets of Nevarra's city sprawl.
By the time he stepped through the wrought iron gates of the jeweler's store, his thoughts were as clear as soup left on the stove too long. The elven artisan, Ortha, was behind the counter and, at the ringing of the little silver bell above the door frame, looked up and smiled as though expecting him.
"Didn't take long for you to think things over, eh?" Her voice was lilting with that Marcher accent and friendly. Her smile went crooked and she peered around him, "Where's your other half, mister tall and stately looking?"
"Tending to things back at the Necropolis," Hugh answered and offered a polite smile of his own as he ducked his head like a boy caught in a lie. "He's a professor there. It's a busy time of year for him."
"I see..." Ortha said as she put down the gilded music box she was tuning with its ballerina skeleton in a hooded gown spinning lazily to a soft tune that silenced when shut, "Lively place, that?"
Hugh snorted, "Like you wouldn't believe."
She nodded as if in understanding, but given where she set up shop chances stood that she did. Ortha then hoisted herself up over the counter and sat atop it with lithe, elven grace. Hugh had taken her for a more laidback soul and was already more at ease around her than most anyone else he ran into in the city.
"So...the earrings?" She gently prompted.
Hugh blinked and nodded, "Ah, right. I'd still like it to be a hoop around the helix, but the cut. Could that be made to look like a griffon's wing?"
Ortha hummed as she considered, then hopped off the counter and up to Hugh. Chin pinched between her thumb and forefinger, she gave Hugh a once over with her glinting pale blue eyes and came to some private conclusion.
"I can tell you prefer simpler designs compared to your Mortalitassi paramour," she observed in an even voice. I wonder if that bothers him, given how Nevarrans are with their grave gold? I imagine planning your wedding must be difficult enough."
Hugh took a reflexive half-step back and now found her pale gaze far too focused. He guessed she had to be discerning in her field, but all of a sudden, he felt like a bug pinned to a board under a magnifying glass.
"What do you mean?"
Ortha canted her head towards the display case of Ferelden hair beads. "That set over there I was telling you about? The Gwaren girl just turned three-and-twenty this year. Her groom is a nobleman twice her age. She's a band's daughter, but it seems the lord's run himself into some debts even before the South was blighted. Not unheard of, but I couldn't help that you're so..."
Hugh squared his shoulders and felt his temper twist in his belly like a coiling snake. He could see the well-meaning concern in her eyes, and it only made him want to spit.
"So what? Much younger? Thank you, I wouldn't have noticed without your-"
Ortha cut him off, "So out of your element and looking as if you don't know where to stand on your own two feet here. A wealthy, older gentleman doing most of the talking while his reticent fiance looks like he's fighting to get every word he speaks out turns heads, dear. Even in Nevarra."
"It's not like that." Hugh flushed and looked down at the floor. Emmrich was twenty-four years his senior. Hugh had barely turned thirty when they had met. It was never a problem, he selmdom even thought about it. No one had ever given them grief for it beyond Harding's occasional needling, but they hadn't exactly been walking the city square regularly either.
"No, it's not; I knew that for certain, anytime you turned away, that man had the most besotted look on his face." Ortha chuckled again, and there was an unmistakable warmth to it. She then looked at him in that kindly way of hers, "But these...disparities between you two, it's clear that this was something neither of you was prepared for. How long have you been together, if I may ask?"
"A...a little over a year." Damned if she didn't hit the nail on the head. He and Emmrich hardly veered out of their tight circles between the Lighthouse and the Watchers.
"I wish you many more," Ortha squeezed his arm, "You're no blushing bride from Gwaren making a tough choice. Come by in a fortnight, and I'll have the preliminary mold ready for you to look at."
They chatted a while longer, and before long, the evening sky had started to darken into deep oranges and bruised purples. Hugh excused himself, but as he was leaving.
"By the way, is that music box for sale?"
It was late into the evening when Hugh had finally made it back to the Necropolis. His legs were pleasently sore from taking the long walk back. Eluvians were grand, but sometimes, a man just needed to stretch his legs to clear his head. Hugh hadn't lingered to chat with anyone he passed in the Necropolis before making it to the elevators that lead to the lower levels where senior Watchers resided.
"I'm back!" Hugh called into the front hall as he shrugged off his coat and walked into the front room.
Emmrich was there in his peripheral vision, and Hugh only noted that he was in a dressing gown and wondered why Emmrich was preparing for bed so early in the evening. Hugh didn't ponder long as he set the wrapped package with the music box inside on the table set between to chaise lounges and collapsed into one with a loud and overly dramatic groan.
"Maker, there aren't enough hours in the day," Hugh griped as he kicked off his boots and flung an arm over his eyes as he sprawled out. "Where's Manfred? I bought something for him at the jeweler."
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And it wouldn't happen if he suffocated the man or drove him away. So he'll be patient, and while there was no shutting up the fears and anxieties that always reared their eager heads whenever Hugh got closed off, he would try harder to work through them internally.
The dishes list, cake options, non-wine beverage choices, and even the table settings were looking in order by the time Hugh returned. A tired-seeming Hugh, no less. Asking after Manfred also meant the suggestion earlier had probably escaped his mind entirely. Emmrich felt a bit ridiculous to be wearing what he was wearing now. At least he had the robe.
"A group reviewing the rituals in the rose maze was setting off as we returned, and he was eager to join in. They won't be back for hours yet, I'm afraid." He kept his voice soft, because that was the easiest way to keep any emotion other than the usual warmth he felt toward Hugh out of it. He didn't want any trace of disappointment to be audible, even as he shifted to try to make sure it wasn't obvious that he'd been half-hard.
It was good Hugh was thinking of Manfred, though. There was attachment there. They were a family, as oddly shaped as it was. "It's good for his development, too, as he forms greater social connections with mages who will be his peers, more or less."
The non-living Watchers were fully a part of the order, but there was sometimes a divide. Vorgoth integrated well enough with everyone, but even Keepsake and Curio weren't as amiable with some of other Watchers as they were with Emmrich and Myrna. They weren't seen quite as equals, which was such a loss to those who thought the living superior. Emmrich hoped that Manfred spending time among living students would help both him and them. Especially as Emmrich would not immortal, and thus wouldn't always be around to support Manfred.
"You seem worn out. Am I reading that right?" If Hugh is, Emmrich can go 'use the restroom' and change out of this for another time. "Did your meeting with Orthra go well?"
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Well, technically speaking, Emmrich bought the music box. Anything Hugh carried on his person had come from Emmrich's coffers. It turned out the Grey Wardens didn't have hazard pay, and there weren't any salaried positions in saving the world twice over. That had never bothered Hugh, but he had always tried to keep his purchases practical and frugal. Weapons maintenance, a sturdy pair of boots, and maybe the occasional pastry when out in the city, but nothing overly indulgent. It didn't feel right, even if they were engaged. This little moment of spontaneity for Manfred was perhaps out of character, but the moment he saw the little jeweled figure dance, his mind was made.
"Hours, you say?" Hugh sat up then, latching onto that little detail as soon as it and its subtle meaning registered.
"Well as it could, I don't really have the head for all that," Proped on his elbows, Hugh was making no effort to hide his eyes roving up the length of the figure Emmrich cut in the rich velvet and silk of his dressing gown. Forgetting almost entirely the awkward conversation he had with the artisan as he waved Emmrich over, "Just catching my breath after the jog back, come here and fill me in on how you've come along."
With his legs stretched out and his frame dominating the rest of the chaise, Emmrich had nowhere to sit but on Hugh if he did care to join him.
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Where the money technically came from didn't matter. Emmrich had plenty of it, more than he needed, and it was for their use, all of them. He even regularly gave money away and there was still a ridiculous amount. Sometimes he wondered if that too was a stumbling point for Hugh, especially as Hugh said he didn't have the head for 'all that.' His love is smarter than he thinks, better than he thinks, and Emmrich wished there was a way to convince Hugh of that.
At least he could clearly, conclusively, prove to Hugh that he was wanted. He hoped Hugh knew it was for more than his body, though he had to. Obviously he had to. No one would marry someone if they thought it was that shallow, and now Emmrich was overthinking everything.
It was absolutely time to get out of his own head. Especially as he was looked over like that. Emmrich picked up the papers he'd filled, bringing them over to set on the table next to Hugh as if he thought they'd actually go over things. He doubted they'd make progress for a bit, as clearly the only seating option was to straddle Hugh's lap, and straddling him rucked up the robe to show off bare lower legs.
"I made progress in a few areas, and I think I've got a good assortment of vegetarian dishes chosen. I've also narrowed down cake flavors to five that we both liked, though I think I'd like you to narrow it further, when you feel up to it." He leaned forward to kiss Hugh's forehead to try to ease any pressure that roused, showing more skin at the drooping v of his robe as well.
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Hugh was still navigating where he and Manfred fit. The jokes about being his spell-slinging skeleton son were all in good fun, and he could play rock-paper-scissors with the spirit until the cows came home, but he did want to foster a connection not only because of Emmrich. Manfred was growing into his own person, and Hugh wanted to say he had a part in that. Even if there were no denying Manfred would long outlive them all, he looked at it from Emmrich's perspective. That's what family wanted for each other, after all, right?
There was no disappointment on display when Emmrich slid onto his lap. Far from it, in fact, as amber eyes lit up, and in an instant, any exhaustion fled from Hugh. He jostled in the chaise to prop his back on the chaise's armrest and get a good view of the sight before him. Emmrich's lean, solid body with pale olive skin that was as smooth as the silk he was wrapped in. Hugh made a pleased little him as he ran his hands up the length of Emmrich's legs from his knees to his thighs, fingers teasing the hem of the robe.
"You were swaying me towards that one with the hazelnuts," Hughs said as he toyed with the sash, tying Emmrich's dressing gown together while keeping up the charade. It was cakes he had on his mind. That was true, however. Hugh (in)famously didn't care for seeds or nuts for a man with a seemingly endless appetite. "Never cared for them before, but you've certainly broadened my palate."
It was while running a hand up Emmrich's thigh that he noticed he wasn't feeling cool, dry skin but the give of something more delicate and gossamer.
"Stockings?" Hugh blinked as he gazed down, the implications not connecting. "Bit over dressed for bed, love."
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"I do have a fondness for hazelnuts, but I enjoy a great many things. You've expanded my palate in return, darling," he said as his hands trailed up the front of Hugh's shirt, fingers brushing along the lines of his love's jaw after that. "But the spice cake was delightful. The coffee flavoring in the other was rich, and I believe our friends have all developed a taste for coffee. Neve's desire for sludge notwithstanding. Lavender was also a lovely contender, and the carrot was unforgettable. We have five fantastic options."
He was going to say something else, he was sure of it, and then Hugh was confused by the stockings. Emmrich looked down before looking back at Hugh, blinking. Right. Of course. He should have remembered how unfamiliar with anything outside of simple fucking Hugh was.
"You mentioned biting at lunch, love. And then followed up with a mention of practicing for our honeymoon. I'm dressed for bed." Emmrich met Hugh's gaze and held it as he replaced his partner's hands on the tie of his robe and undid it. The gown didn't fully slip open on its own, so he took Hugh's hands and guided them to the sides before releasing his partner. He wanted to see Hugh's reaction to the full reveal.
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Beyond brewing rose hip for tea and dandelions for wine, Hugh had no idea that lavender was edible, let alone a popular choice for sweets. He shrugged and mentioned he'd try it now that Emmrich's proven it wasn't some strange ploy by the local patisserie to poison them.
The running commentary on cakes ended when Emmrich drew Hugh's attention back to explaining the sheer fabric running along the slender legs caged around his thighs. It did have him the excited sort of curious that made sitting still hard. Hugh watched Emmrich as his hands were maneuvered with no resistance on his part.
"Of course you're dressed for bed," Hugh snorted. "That's why I'm aski...ing..."
Silk robes rolled down Emmrich's shoulders in a smooth motion, dew rolling down flower petals. The rustle of fabric was the only thing Hugh could hear as his mind blanked and static filled his ears. Ribbed fabric, intricately and delicately patterned, caged Emmrich's already tapered waisted with clasps connecting its hem to an even more sinfully gossamer set of smalls that did nothing to hide Emmrich's semi-aroused cock. Lace, silk, and more lace the color of chantilly cream that Hugh wanted to run his tongue over and devour.
"I—" What were they talking about earlier? What even happened earlier? What was his own name again? "Right. Bed."
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And that was exactly the type of anxiety that he was trying to avoid dwelling on and why he'd come over to Hugh's lap, so it was going to wait for later. The way he was being looked at now that the robe was off said Hugh was very ready to move on for now.
Emmrich smirked, losing himself in how it felt to be so desired by the man he loved.
"Yes, bed, darling. But more for recreation than sleep. I do hope you're not opposed." The robe had stopped at his elbows, an excellent backdrop, especially as he got back to his feet so Hugh could see the whole show.
Emmrich turned his back and dropped the robe off one arm so Hugh could take in all of that angle too before he headed to the bedroom and paused in the doorway to lean against the doorframe.
"Are you coming to the bedroom, Hugh?" He was having fun with this, desperately needed fun. Sorting things out was also desperately needed, but he'd reached his fill of struggling there for the day.
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"Recreation..." Hugh echoed, amused as he was dumbfounded that Emmrich made it sound like they were about to play a hand of cards while looking like sin on legs. When given an out he'd never take, Hugh shook his head like a wet dog. "No, no opposition here."
The robe pooled in Hugh's outstretched arms as he watched Emmrich slide off him, mind frozen like the rest of him. Any other time, he would have taken Emmrich in his arms and pinned him to the chaise, but he was mesmerized. This was all new to him, but he would be more than happy to get used to it.
Then Emmrich was leaning on the doorframe, flowing down the hall like smoke, and Hugh was on his feet. He nearly stumbled over, his balance no better than a colt as he stumbled around the chaise and knocked an unlit sconce off a nearby table.
"I— uh-huh, coming," Hugh was down the hall and tumbling over the threshold into the bedroom. The robe was thrown haphazardly over a chair as he started to hop one-legged out of his boots while alternating between fighting with his belt buckle. While Hugh struggled with his clothes, he continued to stare at Emmrich's choice of attire. "You— that new?"
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"Not new in the least," Emmrich answered. "But I feel a honeymoon calls for testing out interests that may be new to one or both parties. There's a certain expected hedonism that is liberating, allowing for new risks and new discoveries. So let's try something out, shall we, Hugh?"
His partner was already a delicious mess, and Emmrich intended to make him even more of one. He spread his legs. "Come kneel like a good boy. And pick a word that you'll say if you want whatever we're doing to stop, and it stops right that instant. You're also free to test out ideas, and my word will be..."
Briefly he considered, looking around the room. This should have been something he picked beforehand, but he's been preoccupied. "Skeletal." It's a word he uses fairly often, but never in the bedroom. It should be fine.
"How does that sound?"
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In a bid to get to a state of undress as quickly as possible, Hugh had retained half of what Emmrich was saying. Hard to be attentive when fighting with trouser laces and, well, already rather hard yourself.
What pricked up his ears was Emmrich's little pet name for him, which was rarely utilized and only ever in the bedroom. Down to his smalls, Hugh dropped his shirt and trousers and looked at Emmrich with pupils blown wide in the low candlelight.
Without another word between them, Hugh stalked across the room before going to his knees and sliding between Emmrich's legs. It was comfortable, knees cushioned on an Antivan silk rug and the lace of Emmrich's stockings soft against his skin.
"A word?" Hugh wondered what his lover had in mind that they would even consider stopping, but he had no reason not to go along. Dressed like that, Emmrich could have asked him to crawl across hot coals, and he would have readily obliged.
Then, with a crooked smile, Hugh looked up from Emmrich's thighs and said,
"Hazelnut."
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"Well done, beloved. You're being so good for me."
Emmrich threaded the fingers of one hand into Hugh's hair and urged the man's head forward, closer to his groin. It felt odd to take power over Hugh like this, but he was turned on nonetheless, and he had a feeling that Hugh would be thrilled by this. There'd been signs.
"Pleasure me, Hugh. Tongue, hands if you wish. Bring me close to the edge, but not over. I intend to be inside you... after a few steps."
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The shape of Hugh's mouth bends from a grin to an open gasp as Emmrich's fingers tighten in his hair, drawing him forward. His hair was a leash, and Hugh knew when to heel. It was never rough enough to hurt. Emmrich could always balance that line between pain and pleasure. Part of Hugh was silently begging him to cross it — he liked the hurt and knew he could take it.
"A few steps?"
Hugh spoke with his mouth against the jut of Emmrich's pelvis, tasking the fragrant oils he bathed in mingled with sweat and the floral scent of the dried flowers Emmrich folded into his clothes. It was a heady bouquet like a rich red wine he could get drunk on.
Not waiting for an answer, Hugh assessed what he had to work with. The lace smalls were harnessed to the stockings at Emmrich's thighs and looked delicate, not to mention expensive. As easily as Emmrich could have everything replaced, Hugh doubted he'd be hearing 'good boy' any time soon if he tore right in.
Instead, he crooked his fingers over the hem of Emmrich's panties and carefully pulled them down. Emmrich's long and flushed cock was already erect and pressed against his sinewy, flat abdomen. Hugh was quick to wrap a hand around the base and suck his love down, tongue-teasing his slit and moving his head in shallow motions that only took Emmrich in halfway. All the while, his eyes flitted up to the man conducting the show, watching for Emmrich's every reaction.
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"Did I say you could ask questions, or did I tell you what to do?" His grasp loosened for the moment as he waited to see what Hugh's response would be. Wisely Hugh chose to start behaving, and Emmrich moaned as he was freed from the constriction of the lace. That, of course, was followed quickly by a lower, deeper sound as Hugh got to work. The wet heat of Hugh's mouth was perfection, and the flick of his tongue magnificent itself. But it could be better. He could be taken in the whole way.
Knowing from previous experience that Hugh liked some more roughness, Emmrich once again tightened his grip on Hugh's hair and pulled, hard. This time he kept the pressure up as he traced Hugh's jaw with one of the knuckles of his other hand.
"You could do better," Emmrich groaned. Normally he'd take what Hugh was giving gladly, being teased was fun, but he was trying to dominate the man here. He needed to take some control instead of simply enjoying it as it came.
"Do your best, and receive my best, Hugh. Otherwise..." There was threat in his voice... or at least his best attempt at threat. Emmrich was perhaps not the greatest actor, but he was trying.
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Laying his hands flat against Emmrich's knees, he tested the waters by widening the man's legs enough to kneel closer. One finger hooked under the strap connecting the whole ensemble and pulled, testing its give before letting it snap against the softer flesh of the man's inner thigh.
It was a bit of a gamble, but Hugh didn't give Emmrich must opportunity to retaliate or react as he took him into his mouth to the hilt. The back of Hugh's throat ached as he adjusted before moving with slow, deep bobs of his head as the brackish taste of pre coated his tongue.
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He swallowed to get some focus back... and promptly lost it as he was taken in fully.
"Good-- good boy," Emmrich said breathlessly. "So good for me, Hugh." Hugh's throat was tight around him and his tongue was perfect. So many times his love's mouth had been enough, and still easily would be, but Emmrich had voiced a promise of sorts. He pulled Hugh's hair.
"Enough of that." He'd never have enough of it, and they both knew it. "Stand, undress the rest of the way, get into the drawer, and pull out the oil and one of the penetrating toys."
Meanwhile Emmrich scooted back, toward the head of the bed, and moved the pillows so he'd have one behind him as he leaned against the headboard. He unhooked the first three hooks on the front of the corset, expecting Hugh to see what he was doing so his partner could continue it when told.
"And then come here." After spreading his legs wide again, Emmrich patted the bed between them.
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"Ah—!" Hugh gasped when his head was yanked back, cut short when his teeth clenched shut with a hiss. Emmrich pulled with greater force than he ever had before, and Hugh couldn't deny it did something to him.
For a man who had earlier that very day chastised Hugh about having lived a life following orders, Emmrich had a talent for giving them. At least, these were orders Hugh had been all too happy to follow. Obliging, Hugh stood and stepped out of his small. He kicked the green, fraying fabric across the darkened room. He stretched himself out before rounding the bed towards the drawer on Emmrich's side. All the while watching his lover out of the corner of his eye, not wanting to miss one detail of the display laid out before him.
There was a moment's hesitation after Hugh opened the drawer and rummaged for what was requested. There were two toys, and ultimately, Hugh settled on the smaller one. Unless Emmrich told him otherwise, Hugh went for something he knew they were both comfortable with. The little vial of oil he almost wanted to open now, knowing the smell of clove now had the same effect on Emmrich as it did a tabby rolling in a patch of catmint.
In the end, however, he left both on the bed within arm's reach of where Emmrich reclined. The mattress dipped, and Hugh climbed on, moving steadily on hand and knee towards Emmrich until he was sitting between his legs, watching the other man expectantly. Playing along, Hugh decided to speak when spoken to for the remainder of the night and let Emmrich call the shots.
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"You're so well-behaved," he said warmly when Hugh did as instructed. While he definitely wouldn't mind a bit more defiance after that snap, it was also gratifying that his partner trusted him so fully in this. Not that Emmrich had ever given Hugh cause to doubt him in bed, but it was still a comforting fact.
Now he had a choice to make: more sensation, or show. Emmrich wanted both. The former first, then. And if he got impatient, he could always get a good show another time.
"You saw how I started opening this," Emmrich said, gesturing at the corset. "And you expressed jealousy at the thought of me receiving bites from any source either than you earlier. Your next task is simple. Finish opening this and mark me, Hugh. Cover me in signs of how much you want me."
He had enough collars that could hide anything that needed to be hidden. Emmrich stretched out, watching Hugh, trying to pretend that he wasn't breathing a little harder in anticipation.
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"Only for you," Hugh chanced at breaking his silence then because it was true.
He crawled further up the bed until he and Emmrich were a hairsbreadth apart. Even in the low light, Hugh could see the heat in Emmrich's hazel eyes as well as the rise and fall of his chest as his love tried to steady his breathing. The sight was enough to drive Hugh spare, and now he really was worried he might rip something now that he was given cart blanche to leave his mark.
"I think I can manage," Hugh rasped as he collected himself. His cock twitched from the thought alone of Emmrich rubbing at tender bruises the next morning under his perfectly starched collar.
Hugh popped one of the hooks of the corset open as he broke the gap and kissed Emmrich hard enough to push him into the headboard. His hands busied themself on each complicated little button and eyehook as he then started to mouth at Emmrich's neck and shoulder. Every kiss became more prolonged, showing more teeth until he was sinking his teeth with just enough pressure to leave a mark. Each time, he stilled, then bit harder or let up once he gauged Emmrich's reaction. It was a bit like a game, and once the corset was fully undone, Emmrich's neck and shoulders were pelted with reddening marks.
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