I don't think you need go as far as flagellation, ange. It was a mistake, a small one at that. It would be more pressing if it was one of the pups, they are less used to the change.
[ He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of Ambrose's jaw, and then lets his lips work up the short distance to rest below his ear, knowing his beard tickles, and his breath is warm, lips pulling into a wicked smirk as he lets his voice growl low into Ambrose's ear ]
If you intend to come home, then perhaps there are ways I can distract you? Or if you insist on feeling guilty, you can make it up to me, non?
[ It isn't a bad offer Magnus believes. They will both be home, after all, the pups are going to be out until moon-set, and that means there really isn't going to be anything to stop them making use of the unexpected time. And Magnus, in such a good mood, can't bear the thought of Ambrose being so distraught over such a little thing. Nothing will come of this, the paperwork will be buried and lost. All in all, they have only had to hand over money and what is that to an immortal? ]
What crimes will you have me arrested for? There are some old, inventive ones I am sure. Letting my cock wake you before sunrise? Do you think that would earn me a slap on the wrist or a meatier sentence?
{ 'A small mistake.' Good God, Ambrose isn't sure he has the strength to see the kind of mistakes that Magnus would deem dire -- at least, not the strength after tonight. Try him tomorrow.
Ambrose tenses up, not away, fingers curling in against the werewolf's front, rippling the fabric of his beautiful jacket between pale fingertips. Pressing his body flush against the other, he flares his sense of awareness out, listens for other heartbeats, the outer edges of mind's beyond his own, and the street is thankfully sparse, here on a full moon night, in front of a police station. This luck can not be meant to last.
It's an awareness that crumbles under Magnus' tone of voice, an involuntary sound slipping between Ambrose's ribs. His breath skips laugh a chuckle, astounded before it solidifies with understanding. Magnus really is so moon-touched tonight, his mood and his energy elevated to delirious heights. } I cannot believe I will let myself succumb to such obvious manipulation, and yet...
{ And yet, here Ambrose is, taking his being absolved with being guilted simultaneously, and he is making not a fuss at all; Magnus' lips on his skin really are so convincing...but they build a lull that his lover's words cannot help but shatter under. }
Vous êtes fou! { Ambrose gasps, and he might seem, for a moment, actually offended -- but his smile is much too forward to be hidden, and his laugh cannot be stifled. He loses this battle so quickly against himself. } I suppose your jaunt around in the dark still hasn't tired you out...?
{ It's irresistible, really. Ambrose is impossibly weak to his beau when he is so genuinely enthusiastic like this. The low chuckle and soft textures of his face against the vampire's skin -- and Ambrose is a goner, instantly. He never had a chance.
He sighs indulgently, hands gathering up against the sides of Magnus' throat. } Are you really so eager for punishment of your own, mon beau, when you've been so very good? I've already summoned a driver...if you remain patient and behave, I think I would rather reward you, instead.
[ As eager as Magnus is to have Ambrose recovered, he does not necessarily want a dire problem to handle. A dire problem was Ambrose going missing, and not a trace of him to be found for a century and a half. A dire problem is Leon and his crazed view of society with him sat at the top. Magnus has had quite enough of those sorts of problems, he's happy to deal with the little ones: being arrested, working out how to devest Ambrose of his fantasy flippery.
Ambrose makes the most delightful of sounds, even when he's accusing Magnus of being crazy. But this is full-moon night, wolves lose their heads, and Magnus has been this bad before. Perhaps a little more exhausted, but his run was cut short as Ambrose points out.]
Thankfully I have a great deal more energy. I am not sure if you are thankful for the fact, but I promise when we get home, you will be.
[ A car is probably better than a moonlit stroll, especially in his current mood, but being patient and behaving is going to take some effort. But he nods, because their ride will no doubt be here soon, and he's in no hurry to embarrass Ambrose any more tonight.
Although maybe a few more light pecks won't do any harm? That can hardly be termed misbehaving. Not on the werewolf scale, anyway. ]
Does my reward come in the form of an attractive vampire, or baked goods made by the gentle hands of said vampire? So I can ensure I am prepared.
{ It would be improper to say Ambrose has no choice -- of course he does, and that will never be compromised. But when Magnus speaks like this, it's that the vampire's decision is made for him so immediately, with such dedication, that he is helpless against himself. Really, when his wolf radiates such a potent energy, drunk on moonlight, it's wonderfully endearing. How can he not indulge both his lover, and himself?
Which is probably what helps Magnus get away with more of this impassioned conduct, out in public like this. Probably. }
Good behavior will earn you the former, my dear. And the latter...depends on how thankful you leave me feeling tonight. { Since, you know, Magnus is making such irresistible claims...
Their hired car arrives, an Uber driver who looks awfully young but is a pleasant fellow -- one who also cannot help himself with a chuckling, 'police station running a costume contest tonight?'
But it's a quick ride and one worthy of a positive review, one Ambrose taps away on his phone in the backseat beside Magnus while they sit idle at the final red light -- a pale hand drifting up to his lover's lap, tracing lazily across the top of his thigh, risking to travel along the downward slope inward... Eyes fixed firmly on his device the entire time. To be fair, Ambrose never promised that behaving was going to be easy...!
But here, let Ambrose be the one to unlock the back door once they arrive -- and let this be the first in a long, long eternity of leaving back doors unlocked on full-moon nights. (In fact, try and catch Ambrose ever locking another door ever again, after tonight. He might rather take the chances living in New York than all this again.) }
[ There's only a moment before they are climbing into the car, but as they settle, Magnus can at least lean into Ambrose's side, find his ear, and growl in low French]
I assure you, my love, I will be very good.
[It is Ambrose, and that wandering hand of his, that can not behave. It's only because this is a hired vehicle that Magnus keeps a grip on himself, one does not do such things in a hackney carriage, even if the moon is full. It is an effort not to dig claw-like fingers into the upholstery, but as soon as they are stopped, their driver is paid, Magnus' hands are all over Ambrose once more.
The kisses are hot, heavy, his blood running thick and fast through his veins and Ambrose's teasing touches and half-promises have done nothing to calm the desire in his wolf. It's a surprise, with Magnus pressed up against his back, hands on his hips and the wolf's mouth on his throat, that Ambrose manages to open the door at all. That is probably a testament to his dedication and cool-headedness, but Magnus only has the one thing on his mind. It is amazing, truly amazing, what full moon can do to a man normally so sensible and rational.
But at last they are inside, and it doesn't matter if the door is locked or unlocked. This is the home of a werewolf, and a vampire. Anyone trying to steal is going to be left disinclined to steal from anyone, ever again. This isn't the time to discuss that though, not when Magnus' eager fingers are tugging at Ambrose's clothes, eager and, unfortunately impatient.
Which is why, despite Magnus' heavy breathing and murmurs of encouragement, the rip of fabric echoes around the room.]
{ You can take a man out of the Victorian era, but you cannot take the Victorian era out of the man. Both Magnus and Ambrose are quite resigned in their conduct, in their natures, and not while to a fault, it is certainly at their own expense sometimes, as far as the good-natured joking is concerned. It's not the worst impression to have by far -- stuffy at worst, perhaps.
Which is what makes nights like this so much more thrilling, a beautiful and rare treat when the spark takes. It's hardly as if they avoid having fun, after all -- it does feel deliciously indescribable, letting go of such structure and modesty, together. Ambrose may not be so deeply linked to the moon as Magnus is, but the moon affects all, doesn't she? More indirect sunlight in the air doesn't miss a vampire, and it's fortunate for Ambrose that his lover wants nothing more to expend this swelling energy with him.
Fumbling in the dark really isn't so much as fumbling, really, not when their senses are perfected for it. Still, between heavy eyelids, kissing so closely, and eagerly grappling hands--
Ambrose feels fabric renting against him, more than he hears the sound itself. He freezes completely against Magnus, stunned. He hadn't thought of it, the real possibility of this accident, then again...the fastenings and buttons are all simply for show. This probably would have happened at some point...
The vampire shudders, his back pressed against Magnus' front, silent at first -- until his breath rumbles out in a soft, hysteric laugh. He relaxes into the wolf, his alarm melting as he loses his composure, rattling with his laughter. It's involuntary and anxious, but nonetheless feels like the first time he's felt his ribs release an unnoticed tension for the first time all night. His hand, wrapped against his companion's neck, slips away to feel the tear at the back of his decorative top, the fabric pulled open through to skin. }
Certainly is my night. { Ambrose manages as his overwhelmed amusement simmers again, shock and exasperation tempered down into something more solid. He thinks to turn around into Magnus, to look at him, but a different idea strikes him. Here against the long table so often used for Magnus' meetings with his fellow kin, Ambrose stays pressed here, one hand still on its surface. }
I do hope, for both our sakes...that this will be worth all the trouble I'll be in later. { His tone still bubbles, breathy, and before Magnus can possibly say more, Ambrose looks at him from over his shoulder. } I think perhaps, to be safe, you'll just have to completely undress me now...to avoid any more accidents, of course.
And carefully. { His top is constructed with a subtle zipper down the back, for quick change between scenes, but impossible to undo on his own. Another test of patience? Well, unless Magnus wants to get the zipper stuck, and Ambrose is rather quite done with all of the smarmy remarks from the general public, tonight. }
[ Far more than the noise of the fabric giving out, it is Ambrose's dejection and acceptance that tonight nothing will go right that make Magnus' heart twist painfully. That is not Ambrose's fault, and Magnus will not be allowing Ambrose to take it on his own shoulders. He will before dawn discover some means of contacting the hard-working wardrobe manager for Ambrose's troupe and see to trying to fix what damage had been done.
Until then he forced himself to keep a tight control on himself, his movements careful, as if unwrapping some delicate gift. The zip peeled away, allowing him to press kisses over pale, unmarred skin as if to banish every negative thought, every anguish. Magnus' fingers continue their gentle dance, easing the costume from Ambrose's shoulders, and wander down his torso, palms caressing.
Then with a more playful nip at his lover's shoulder, he hooks his fingers into the other's pants, pushing them down his hips into a pool of cloth. ]
Much better, little dove. And before anything else goes wrong, I am taking you to bed.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
for my dear immortalized
Date: 2018-06-25 06:38 pm (UTC)I don't think you need go as far as flagellation, ange. It was a mistake, a small one at that. It would be more pressing if it was one of the pups, they are less used to the change.
[ He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of Ambrose's jaw, and then lets his lips work up the short distance to rest below his ear, knowing his beard tickles, and his breath is warm, lips pulling into a wicked smirk as he lets his voice growl low into Ambrose's ear ]
If you intend to come home, then perhaps there are ways I can distract you? Or if you insist on feeling guilty, you can make it up to me, non?
[ It isn't a bad offer Magnus believes. They will both be home, after all, the pups are going to be out until moon-set, and that means there really isn't going to be anything to stop them making use of the unexpected time. And Magnus, in such a good mood, can't bear the thought of Ambrose being so distraught over such a little thing. Nothing will come of this, the paperwork will be buried and lost. All in all, they have only had to hand over money and what is that to an immortal? ]
What crimes will you have me arrested for? There are some old, inventive ones I am sure. Letting my cock wake you before sunrise? Do you think that would earn me a slap on the wrist or a meatier sentence?
no subject
Date: 2018-06-25 11:26 pm (UTC)Ambrose tenses up, not away, fingers curling in against the werewolf's front, rippling the fabric of his beautiful jacket between pale fingertips. Pressing his body flush against the other, he flares his sense of awareness out, listens for other heartbeats, the outer edges of mind's beyond his own, and the street is thankfully sparse, here on a full moon night, in front of a police station. This luck can not be meant to last.
It's an awareness that crumbles under Magnus' tone of voice, an involuntary sound slipping between Ambrose's ribs. His breath skips laugh a chuckle, astounded before it solidifies with understanding. Magnus really is so moon-touched tonight, his mood and his energy elevated to delirious heights. } I cannot believe I will let myself succumb to such obvious manipulation, and yet...
{ And yet, here Ambrose is, taking his being absolved with being guilted simultaneously, and he is making not a fuss at all; Magnus' lips on his skin really are so convincing...but they build a lull that his lover's words cannot help but shatter under. }
Vous êtes fou! { Ambrose gasps, and he might seem, for a moment, actually offended -- but his smile is much too forward to be hidden, and his laugh cannot be stifled. He loses this battle so quickly against himself. } I suppose your jaunt around in the dark still hasn't tired you out...?
{ It's irresistible, really. Ambrose is impossibly weak to his beau when he is so genuinely enthusiastic like this. The low chuckle and soft textures of his face against the vampire's skin -- and Ambrose is a goner, instantly. He never had a chance.
He sighs indulgently, hands gathering up against the sides of Magnus' throat. } Are you really so eager for punishment of your own, mon beau, when you've been so very good? I've already summoned a driver...if you remain patient and behave, I think I would rather reward you, instead.
no subject
Date: 2018-06-26 07:16 am (UTC)Ambrose makes the most delightful of sounds, even when he's accusing Magnus of being crazy. But this is full-moon night, wolves lose their heads, and Magnus has been this bad before. Perhaps a little more exhausted, but his run was cut short as Ambrose points out.]
Thankfully I have a great deal more energy. I am not sure if you are thankful for the fact, but I promise when we get home, you will be.
[ A car is probably better than a moonlit stroll, especially in his current mood, but being patient and behaving is going to take some effort. But he nods, because their ride will no doubt be here soon, and he's in no hurry to embarrass Ambrose any more tonight.
Although maybe a few more light pecks won't do any harm? That can hardly be termed misbehaving. Not on the werewolf scale, anyway. ]
Does my reward come in the form of an attractive vampire, or baked goods made by the gentle hands of said vampire? So I can ensure I am prepared.
no subject
Date: 2018-06-28 03:30 am (UTC)Which is probably what helps Magnus get away with more of this impassioned conduct, out in public like this. Probably. }
Good behavior will earn you the former, my dear. And the latter...depends on how thankful you leave me feeling tonight. { Since, you know, Magnus is making such irresistible claims...
Their hired car arrives, an Uber driver who looks awfully young but is a pleasant fellow -- one who also cannot help himself with a chuckling, 'police station running a costume contest tonight?'
But it's a quick ride and one worthy of a positive review, one Ambrose taps away on his phone in the backseat beside Magnus while they sit idle at the final red light -- a pale hand drifting up to his lover's lap, tracing lazily across the top of his thigh, risking to travel along the downward slope inward... Eyes fixed firmly on his device the entire time. To be fair, Ambrose never promised that behaving was going to be easy...!
But here, let Ambrose be the one to unlock the back door once they arrive -- and let this be the first in a long, long eternity of leaving back doors unlocked on full-moon nights. (In fact, try and catch Ambrose ever locking another door ever again, after tonight. He might rather take the chances living in New York than all this again.) }
no subject
Date: 2018-06-28 07:44 am (UTC)I assure you, my love, I will be very good.
[It is Ambrose, and that wandering hand of his, that can not behave. It's only because this is a hired vehicle that Magnus keeps a grip on himself, one does not do such things in a hackney carriage, even if the moon is full. It is an effort not to dig claw-like fingers into the upholstery, but as soon as they are stopped, their driver is paid, Magnus' hands are all over Ambrose once more.
The kisses are hot, heavy, his blood running thick and fast through his veins and Ambrose's teasing touches and half-promises have done nothing to calm the desire in his wolf. It's a surprise, with Magnus pressed up against his back, hands on his hips and the wolf's mouth on his throat, that Ambrose manages to open the door at all. That is probably a testament to his dedication and cool-headedness, but Magnus only has the one thing on his mind. It is amazing, truly amazing, what full moon can do to a man normally so sensible and rational.
But at last they are inside, and it doesn't matter if the door is locked or unlocked. This is the home of a werewolf, and a vampire. Anyone trying to steal is going to be left disinclined to steal from anyone, ever again. This isn't the time to discuss that though, not when Magnus' eager fingers are tugging at Ambrose's clothes, eager and, unfortunately impatient.
Which is why, despite Magnus' heavy breathing and murmurs of encouragement, the rip of fabric echoes around the room.]
Ah... that was, I promise, completely accidental.
this is probably my favorite thing that has ever happened
Date: 2018-06-28 07:06 pm (UTC)Which is what makes nights like this so much more thrilling, a beautiful and rare treat when the spark takes. It's hardly as if they avoid having fun, after all -- it does feel deliciously indescribable, letting go of such structure and modesty, together. Ambrose may not be so deeply linked to the moon as Magnus is, but the moon affects all, doesn't she? More indirect sunlight in the air doesn't miss a vampire, and it's fortunate for Ambrose that his lover wants nothing more to expend this swelling energy with him.
Fumbling in the dark really isn't so much as fumbling, really, not when their senses are perfected for it. Still, between heavy eyelids, kissing so closely, and eagerly grappling hands--
Ambrose feels fabric renting against him, more than he hears the sound itself. He freezes completely against Magnus, stunned. He hadn't thought of it, the real possibility of this accident, then again...the fastenings and buttons are all simply for show. This probably would have happened at some point...
The vampire shudders, his back pressed against Magnus' front, silent at first -- until his breath rumbles out in a soft, hysteric laugh. He relaxes into the wolf, his alarm melting as he loses his composure, rattling with his laughter. It's involuntary and anxious, but nonetheless feels like the first time he's felt his ribs release an unnoticed tension for the first time all night. His hand, wrapped against his companion's neck, slips away to feel the tear at the back of his decorative top, the fabric pulled open through to skin. }
Certainly is my night. { Ambrose manages as his overwhelmed amusement simmers again, shock and exasperation tempered down into something more solid. He thinks to turn around into Magnus, to look at him, but a different idea strikes him. Here against the long table so often used for Magnus' meetings with his fellow kin, Ambrose stays pressed here, one hand still on its surface. }
I do hope, for both our sakes...that this will be worth all the trouble I'll be in later. { His tone still bubbles, breathy, and before Magnus can possibly say more, Ambrose looks at him from over his shoulder. } I think perhaps, to be safe, you'll just have to completely undress me now...to avoid any more accidents, of course.
And carefully. { His top is constructed with a subtle zipper down the back, for quick change between scenes, but impossible to undo on his own. Another test of patience? Well, unless Magnus wants to get the zipper stuck, and Ambrose is rather quite done with all of the smarmy remarks from the general public, tonight. }
it is certainly not Ambrose's favourite thing, poor parsnip
Date: 2018-06-28 09:28 pm (UTC)Until then he forced himself to keep a tight control on himself, his movements careful, as if unwrapping some delicate gift. The zip peeled away, allowing him to press kisses over pale, unmarred skin as if to banish every negative thought, every anguish. Magnus' fingers continue their gentle dance, easing the costume from Ambrose's shoulders, and wander down his torso, palms caressing.
Then with a more playful nip at his lover's shoulder, he hooks his fingers into the other's pants, pushing them down his hips into a pool of cloth. ]
Much better, little dove. And before anything else goes wrong, I am taking you to bed.