you say the hill's too steep to climb [closed]

[prince_of_beasts]

WHO: Dimitri & CR
WHAT: flower hour aftermath
WHERE: around the ship, the cottage
WHEN: early September
WARNINGS: discussion of codependency, self-destructive behavior, & psychosis; violent nightmares

you pick the place and i'll choose the time (dedue)

Dimitri needs a few days of his own to recuperate; to let the worry bleed away, to let his mind settle back into shape and place.

But then -- well -- he misses Dedue. Not out of any fear; Dimitri just ... misses him. Misses the textured silences, the way his forehead pinches at the buffet food, the sound of his voice when Dimitri can provoke a laugh. Misses all their little rituals and rhythms.

He catches Dedue on the Promenade, calls out to him, and then has to do an uncomfortable half-jog up to speaking distance (how close should he stand? Oh, this is awful).

"I wondered -- would you like to eat together? And perhaps watch one of the documentaries?"

They've both seen the whole sequence half-a-dozen times by now, but if Dedue minds that's news to Dimitri.

and i'll climb that hill in my own way (ossie)

In a text sent to Ossie:
I'm sorry
About everything
Can I talk to you
?
In sand dollars or where ever you prefer

Dimitri just wants to offer neutral ground.

and as i rise above the treeline and the clouds (giles)

For his first few nights in the cottage, Dimitri sleeps dark and deep. He's exhausted beyond dreaming, grateful just to crumple into a real bed, to breathe air not thick with salt. It's a shallow respite, though, and it can't last.

Dimitri's nightmares are quiet, and still. It's for the best. Thrashing in his sleep would quickly prove destructive, if not lethal. So there's no outward disturbance when they start again - only, in the small hours of the morning, a pulse of abject terror from the guest room.

Comments

[glassaxolotl]

“Ah,” Dedue breathes. Watching Dimitri be so vocally turned on, so enthusiastic about it being Dedue...

Dedue wonders if anyone else has ever seen this side of him, would even believe it existed. It feels like it’s just for him. Dimitri trusting him with this level of vulnerability, that’s something Dedue wants to treasure.

He weaves his fingers through Dimitri’s hair, turning blonde strands in his hand, and pulls back, keeping Dimitri’s neck exposed for him. And then he bites. Hard.

[prince_of_beasts]

"Oh fuck -- "

Like a candle, all the noise in Dimitri's head snuffs out.

He goes limp. If not for Dedue's body holding his against the wall, he might collapse. His head tips back, wherever Dedue maneuvers him, keeping his neck and shoulder exposed. All he can hear is his own panting and the soft wet sounds of Dedue's mouth on his skin. "F-fuck -- please -- please -- !"

For all that Dimitri resents his title, for whatever little it means here, he still carries a stubborn pride. He could allow no one but Dedue to take him apart like this. No one else could make the prince of Faerghus beg.

"Yours," he gasps, blinking back tears. It's the only thing he can think, the only thing Dedue's teeth on his neck can mean. "I'm yours, I'm yours, oh, G -- Dedue -- ! I'm yours."

[glassaxolotl]

Dedue exhales loudly against Dimitri’s skin, and his fingers grip tighter. Dimitri’s words send electricity down his spine.

There’s layers of old sediment in Dedue’s brain. Structures set up to protect him, protect the both of them. Parts of him that scream danger at the meaning behind what Dimitri is saying, what Dimitri is doing for him, what Dedue wants back. There are old instincts to check the door, make sure no one is watching.

He ignores that part of himself as he bites down on Dimitri’s skin. Then, against every screaming instinct, he growls firmly and solidly against Dimitri’s ear. “Mine.”

[prince_of_beasts]

Dimitri moans. He's spread his legs, rutting against Dedue's thigh. A damp patch is spreading across the front of his trousers, but the angle's wrong and the friction isn't enough to finish him -- just enough to drive him mad, keep him feverish and needy.

Still -- "Thank you," he breathes. His eyelids flutter shut.

[glassaxolotl]

Dedue gives a tiny hint of a smile.

He draws back to blow air on the red skin where his teeth had been, and he then kisses the spot.

His hands drag downward, one snaking its way into the half-unbuttoned shirt to drag fingers across Dimitri’s nipple. (If this were at the academy, Dedue thinks, he’d be much more upset about the damage to this shirt. As it stands, they have an infinite clothing store and none of it is particularly high quality).

Dedue’s other hand goes lower, pressing gently against the tent in Dimitri’s pants. He sees how needy Dimitri is and could definitely go faster. But he wants to savor this moment as best as he can. Which means Dimitri will just have to be a bit more patient.

[prince_of_beasts]

Dimitri's fine with that. Dimitri would be fine with anything, right now. I'd let you do just about anything to me, he said once, and he'd meant it -- Dedue could take his throat out with his teeth and with his last gurgling breath Dimitri would thank him. If Dedue wants him to wait, he'll wait, where every touch is grace and attention alone is bliss, though he bucks into Dedue's hand hard enough to push them briefly away from the wall. He'll whine and cry and writhe as long as Dedue sees fit, because Dedue sees fit, because Dimitri is his and nothing else has ever mattered.

His chest heaves under Dedue's palm. His head's fallen back, eyes shut, mouth open. Fumbling, he finds a chunk of his shirt and yanks, scattering the rest of the buttons across the floor (and ruining most of the remaining seams). His other hand curls over the back of Dedue's neck, tugging him back down for a sloppy kiss that half-misses his mouth.

[glassaxolotl]

Dedue’s fingers leisurely circle Dimitri’s areola and flick across the nipple. Meanwhile, his other hand slips beneath the band of Dimitri’s trousers and wraps gently around the shaft. The fingers trace lines along the underside, trying to commit the shape of it to memory.

[prince_of_beasts]

"Nnnh -- !"

Dimitri can't name the noise that comes out of him. His body jerks, twisting at once towards and away from the touch. It's so different when it's someone else's hand -- he's left hyper-aware of his own skin, how fragile it is, sensitive to the point of pain. He squeezes his eyes shut; a tear escapes and tracks down over his cheekbone.

[glassaxolotl]

“Is it too much?” Dedue whispers as he continues to stroke him.

[prince_of_beasts]

Is it? Dimitri whimpers, and nods, not entirely of his own accord. He lifts his chin and tilts his head, offering the unmarked side of his neck. "Please?" he whispers. "P-please. Please -- "

[glassaxolotl]

Dedue obliges him, pressing a gentle bite to the side of Dimitri’s neck while slightly speeding up the pace, using the wetness leaking from the head as lubrication.

He’s feeling very turned on himself, and instinctively he rolls his hips against Dimitri’s thigh to get some relief.

[prince_of_beasts]

A bloom of not-quite-pain, when Dedue bites down -- a ground, an anchor, holding Dimitri in place so he can feel everything Dedue does to him. He hooks his free hand into his belt and twists, jerks, ripping the buckle clear through the leather. It thuds to the floor along with his trousers, freeing his dick. Cold air makes contact with feverish skin; Dedue feels so much warmer by comparison. It's steadying enough to draw Dimitri into an attempt at rhythm -- Dedue grinds against him, a definite bulge presses against Dimitri's hip, and Dimitri grinds back, shoulders against the wall for leverage.

Carefully -- featherlight, almost limp, because he's not really capable of being careful right now -- he rests his hand on Dedue's waist, brushing up beneath the hem of his shirt.

[glassaxolotl]

Dedue shivers and allows Dimitri to explore as he continues to work him. He can feel his own breath getting heavier at Dimitri’s touch.

[prince_of_beasts]

Dimitri sighs -- more of a shuddering whine -- and lets his hand drift higher. Dedue is softer than he is, padded where Dimitri's all wire and bone. And Dimitri wants to touch him, wants to, wants to --

-- it was probably too much to expect him to last very long. He is eighteen, and it is his first time. Everything is suddenly too much all at once. The world goes white, his body seizes, his toes curl; with a broken cry he comes into Dedue's hand and goes limp, slumped onto his lover's shoulder.

[glassaxolotl]

Dedue looks startled for a moment, but then wraps an arm around Dimitri’s back and murmurs reassuringly to him as his other hand takes the brunt of Dimitri’s climax.

He leads Dimitri over to the bed and has him sit down. Looking down at his soiled hand, Dedue breaks the silence with, “Um. I will wash this and return in a moment.” He starts to rise back up from his spot next to Dimitri.

[prince_of_beasts]

For a few precious moments, everything is warm, and fuzzy, and peaceful. Dimitri is an animal, held softly in his lover's arms.

Then Dedue turns to go, and cold fear lances through Dimitri's chest. He grabs for Dedue's sleeve, certain in a sudden panic that if he leaves Dimitri's sight he'll be taken away in exchange for this pleasure. "No -- no, please -- don't leave?"

[glassaxolotl]

Dedue sits back down.

“I am here,” he reassures Dimitri. “I will not leave you.”

[prince_of_beasts]

Dimitri relaxes again, burying his face against Dedue's shoulder and clinging to his arm. "'nnk you," he sighs.

Which does leave the problem of Dimitri's mess on Dedue's hand. He blinks, blearily, and reaches to pull Dedue's hand into his own.

"I can?" he asks hopefully. "Help?"

[glassaxolotl]

Dedue looks a bit confused but lets Dimitri hold his hand, curious as to where this is going to go.

[prince_of_beasts]

Dimitri did not actually have a plan beyond 'stop Dedue from leaving.' He wipes at Dedue's palm on the end of his shirt, but his hands are too clumsy. Failing that, and seized by an impulse, he pulls Dedue's hand to his mouth and licks it.

His nose wrinkles. Muffled, he says, "That does not taste good."

[glassaxolotl]

Dedue has never before thought about something like this. Even so, his body seems to react strongly.

Dimitri’s tongue runs along parts of his hands that he didn’t even realize were that sensitive. He can just imagine what that tongue might feel like elsewhere. It gets the tiniest moan out of him, and his hips roll involuntarily.

[prince_of_beasts]

Dimitri was not expecting that reaction. But if Dedue likes it ...

He runs his tongue over Dedue's palm more slowly, and asks, "Is this alright?"

[glassaxolotl]

Dedue shivers. He feels a bit embarrassed reacting this strongly, but it’s too late now. Giving Dimitri a quick nod, he leans back on the bed and lets Dimitri take control.

[prince_of_beasts]

Dimitri's breath hitches along with Dedue's shiver. If Dedue is embarrassed, there's nothing but wide-eyed awe in Dimitri's face. He kisses Dedue's palm, and takes his first two fingers into his mouth --

-- and gives an involuntary moan. Oh, that made his head go quiet again.

Someone, someday, might explain the phrase 'oral fixation' to Dimitri. All he knows is that he's happy exploring every crease and callus of Dedue's fingers with his tongue. His mouth feels details of warmth and texture that his battered, half-numbed hands can't. He doesn't have to fear his own touch. He could do this for hours, if Dedue would let him, and never have to think of anything else.

... but he can't be so selfish. Reluctantly, he stops; he kisses Dedue's palm, and cradles Dedue's hand against his cheek, giving him a warm, hazy look. His gaze trails from Dedue's face to his chest. His tongue flicks across his lower lip.

When it becomes apparent that Dedue isn't going to give him orders, Dimitri scrapes together enough speech to ask, "May I undress you?"

[glassaxolotl]

Dedue momentarily forgets how to think, but then gives a quick nod, looking up at Dimitri.