the brain, it will not function tonight
Jun. 18th, 2008 09:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
maderrcontinued from yesterday's snippet...
*~*~*
Francis frowned at the report, reading it over again, before sighing and pushing it gently away.
He had thought the bastard dead.
It was more than a little vexing that apparently he was not, though how he could be alive, Frances did not know. He had seen the body, had watched it get dumped into the river.
Well, perhaps that had been there error. Still, they had checked that he did not breathe…
Perhaps it was merely coincidence. Odd similarities did not necessarily mean the man was alive.
The real question was how to find out for certain. Anyone else would take the obvious solution of sending—
"You work too hard."
Francis looked up at the softly spoken words, the tension in his body already easing, and fading away almost entirely as he took in the man in the doorway, one arm against the doorframe, the other on his hip, glasses tangled in his curly hair.
He smiled in surprise and pleasure. "You were not due home for some time yet, Ric."
"Mmm," Roderick murmured in agreement, pushing away from the door frame to stroll lazily toward him across the massive, luxuriously appointed study. "Matters are winding down; I left two men in charge to oversee the last of it. My presence was not required; let them take credit for the capture. I hardly need it."
Francis chuckled, and made a show of tidying up his desk, hiding away the report which had been troubling him. The very last thing he needed was for Roderick to see it. No, that would not do at all. He did not want to see Roderick unhappy, especially by something that was probably him worrying over nothing.
He stood up as Roderick reached him, wasting no time in bestowing a welcome kiss, the feel and flavor of his lover sorely missed.
Roderick held him tight, arms twined around his waist, as Francis buried his hands in Roderick's hopelessly messy hair, and he thought vaguely that he had heard something hit the desk.
They broke apart only to breath, and Francis pressed lazy kisses to the corner of Roderick's mouth, his cheek, eager to enjoy what he had not seen in nearly two months. "I have missed you."
"And I you," Roderick said, sighing softly, resting against him in a show of surrender and softness he would never show anyone else.
Francis shifted to hold him tightly, closing his eyes simply to feel and breathe in the man in his arms. It would be nice, if one day they would not longer have to go for weeks and months before seeing one another again for only a few days…but they were grateful for what they did have, because once it had seemed likely they would never have anything.
They had come so far in ten years, and he hoped to the gods above that the reports he was receiving did not mean the past was not as dead as he would have liked.
"So this means I have you to myself for the night?" he asked finally.
Roderick muttered something against his chest, then pulled away to speak more clearly – but was stopped by a yawn.
Francis narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "When did you leave to come here?"
"Two nights ago?"
"You should not push yourself so hard!" Francis said, shaking him hard.
Roderick smiled softly. "Every moment is precious."
"You…" Francis said, shaking his head, but returning the smile. He cupped the back of Roderick's head, noting absently his glasses were missing, and drew him close for another kiss. He tasted ale and meat, a hint of something sweet, but mostly he just tasted his lover. "We should go to bed," he said at last.
"Home mere minutes, and already you seek to put me to use," Roderick complained playfully, even as they moved away from the desk, his arm around Francis' waist, Francis' arm around Roderick's shoulders.
Francis rolled his eyes. "You are about to fall over, and I ceased to pay proper attention to these confounded papers hours ago. While I am more than content to spend the night doing things the priests tell us we should not, I think perhaps sleep is the better option."
"I am sworn to obey the High King," Roderick said with a grin. "If he prefers my snores to my services, then so be it."
"Even lack of sleep does not curb your tongue," Francis said with a shake of his head. "Somehow, I always forget it only grows sharper."
*~*~*
Francis frowned at the report, reading it over again, before sighing and pushing it gently away.
He had thought the bastard dead.
It was more than a little vexing that apparently he was not, though how he could be alive, Frances did not know. He had seen the body, had watched it get dumped into the river.
Well, perhaps that had been there error. Still, they had checked that he did not breathe…
Perhaps it was merely coincidence. Odd similarities did not necessarily mean the man was alive.
The real question was how to find out for certain. Anyone else would take the obvious solution of sending—
"You work too hard."
Francis looked up at the softly spoken words, the tension in his body already easing, and fading away almost entirely as he took in the man in the doorway, one arm against the doorframe, the other on his hip, glasses tangled in his curly hair.
He smiled in surprise and pleasure. "You were not due home for some time yet, Ric."
"Mmm," Roderick murmured in agreement, pushing away from the door frame to stroll lazily toward him across the massive, luxuriously appointed study. "Matters are winding down; I left two men in charge to oversee the last of it. My presence was not required; let them take credit for the capture. I hardly need it."
Francis chuckled, and made a show of tidying up his desk, hiding away the report which had been troubling him. The very last thing he needed was for Roderick to see it. No, that would not do at all. He did not want to see Roderick unhappy, especially by something that was probably him worrying over nothing.
He stood up as Roderick reached him, wasting no time in bestowing a welcome kiss, the feel and flavor of his lover sorely missed.
Roderick held him tight, arms twined around his waist, as Francis buried his hands in Roderick's hopelessly messy hair, and he thought vaguely that he had heard something hit the desk.
They broke apart only to breath, and Francis pressed lazy kisses to the corner of Roderick's mouth, his cheek, eager to enjoy what he had not seen in nearly two months. "I have missed you."
"And I you," Roderick said, sighing softly, resting against him in a show of surrender and softness he would never show anyone else.
Francis shifted to hold him tightly, closing his eyes simply to feel and breathe in the man in his arms. It would be nice, if one day they would not longer have to go for weeks and months before seeing one another again for only a few days…but they were grateful for what they did have, because once it had seemed likely they would never have anything.
They had come so far in ten years, and he hoped to the gods above that the reports he was receiving did not mean the past was not as dead as he would have liked.
"So this means I have you to myself for the night?" he asked finally.
Roderick muttered something against his chest, then pulled away to speak more clearly – but was stopped by a yawn.
Francis narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "When did you leave to come here?"
"Two nights ago?"
"You should not push yourself so hard!" Francis said, shaking him hard.
Roderick smiled softly. "Every moment is precious."
"You…" Francis said, shaking his head, but returning the smile. He cupped the back of Roderick's head, noting absently his glasses were missing, and drew him close for another kiss. He tasted ale and meat, a hint of something sweet, but mostly he just tasted his lover. "We should go to bed," he said at last.
"Home mere minutes, and already you seek to put me to use," Roderick complained playfully, even as they moved away from the desk, his arm around Francis' waist, Francis' arm around Roderick's shoulders.
Francis rolled his eyes. "You are about to fall over, and I ceased to pay proper attention to these confounded papers hours ago. While I am more than content to spend the night doing things the priests tell us we should not, I think perhaps sleep is the better option."
"I am sworn to obey the High King," Roderick said with a grin. "If he prefers my snores to my services, then so be it."
"Even lack of sleep does not curb your tongue," Francis said with a shake of his head. "Somehow, I always forget it only grows sharper."
