Log: A really pleasant evening.
Jan. 9th, 2016 07:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
eskil_douglas[Summary: As promised, Vincent returns after Eskil's recital and the two go to bed together.]
[Warnings: NSFW. Sex. Some anxiety issues.]
Eskil clicks the bedroom door shut behind them, locking it, before grabbing Vincent around the waist and pulling him into his arms. “God, Vincent, I nearly couldn’t concentrate on what I was reading because I thought about this...”
“Really?” Vincent grins, biting his bottom lip as he wraps his arms around Eskil, “Because I found it very difficult to write advertisements when all I could think about was taking you to bed…”
“Then less thinking and more doing,” Eskil laughs a little breathlessly.
“Well, what do you want me to do?” Vincent growls with a little smile, before beginning to kiss at Esse’s neck.
“T-That,” Eskil gasps, hands clutching at Vincent’s backside, “but with less clothes on.”
“Fuck…” Vincent chuckles against Esse’s skin, before pulling back, hands now busily working to undress Eskil--his fingers fumbling to unbutton his waistcoat, and shirt. Why are buttons so damned fiddly?
Eskil places his own hands atop Vincent’s, trembling a little from the excitement, grinning at the Russian. “Allow me, I’m quicker at it.”
“Sorry, sorry…” Vincent laughs, sliding his hands away to undress himself instead, “I get too excited around you…”
“Don’t apologise for that,” Eskil laughs as he chucks his jacket off, tossing it on the settee and unbuttons waistcoat and shirt in a matter of seconds - nimble fingers a blur as they work. It’d seem that apart from being a talented poet, a pretty good musician, an excellent runner and the best at cute shy smiles Eskil is also more than adept at making short work of his own clothing.
That beautiful torso...that stomach! Vincent stops to stare for a moment, utterly transfixed by Eskil’s frame. He knows he should be undressing himself--he is eager, after all--but…wow!
Eskil looks up to catch that stare and can’t help but blush. “See anything you like, hmm?” he asks, stretching his arms over his head and favours Vincent with a slow pirouette to show himself off.
Oh...oh fuck. “Y-You...you’re...wow…” is all Vincent manages to say, with a dry laugh, “You’re...irresistibly beautiful.”
You say such things, is on the tip of Eskil’s tongue as the blush creeps even lower, down his neck, down his chest even, but instead he shakes his head and says; “Oh keep up you, you’re falling behind.”
Vincent grins and proceeds to make quick work of removing his waistcoat and shirt, throwing them on the settee to join Eskil’s discarded clothes. Vincent doesn’t care that he has a bit of a tummy, or that a few of his chest hairs are very definitely grey. He’s just so excited to be here, with Eskil, with the opportunity to make love to someone so kind, so fun!
Eskil pulls off his socks and his trousers follows quickly - then, just wearing his briefs he steps into Vincent’s reach. The shyness is back, but it’s without hesitance he places a gentle hand on Vincent’s chest, fingers curling in that wonderful hair. So soft.
“Hello, sweet thing…” Vincent murmurs, wrapping his arms around Eskil before planting a line of soft kisses down his jawline, eventually reaching his neck again with a smirk.
“Hi, fuzzy bear,” Esse replies softly with a gentle smile, pressing himself closer as Vincent’s arms wraps around him, little gasps of delight escaping his lips as the Russian once again shows his neck such lovely affection.
Vincent continues to kiss and lick at Eskil’s neck, whilst awkwardly trying to undress himself. He manages to kick his shoes off fairly easily, and reaches for his belt with a gentle chuckle, realising this would all be a little easier if he’d just stop kissing at Eskil’s pretty neck for a moment. But, of course, he doesn’t, continuing to attempt to unbuckle his belt.
Realising this Eskil’s hands travel down Vincent’s side and comes to join in on the efforts of getting that belt off, and Eskil does have clever hands.
“Thank you…” Vincent laughs, eventually pulling away from Eskil’s neck. With the help of his lover’s skilled hands, he slides the belt off, before making quick work of his trousers and socks, throwing them to the pile of ever-growing clothes. And, eh…bugger it he thinks, pulling his drawers off too, revealing that he’s rather excited already.
Without really thinking Eskil reaches out to palm Vincent’s cock with one soft gentle hand. Even like this he is big. “You’re stunning when you’re naked,” he says, and the sincerity in his voice can not be mistaken.
Vincent is taken aback, but he smiles, so happy to be complimented so genuinely. “You...you are so sweet to me, darling…” he says, running a hand through Eskil’s soft hair.
Eskil’s smile is on the verge of looking quite silly as he beams at the Russian, his grey eyes sparkling with equal measures of delight and desire. Though he quickly realises he doesn’t really know where to go from here.
“Can I take these off, sweet thing?” Vincent asks, gesturing to Eskil’s underwear. They’re both clearly excited, but still quite new at doing this with one another, and Vincent doesn’t want to push the young Swede too far.
“Yes,” Eskil says with a slightly nervous but mostly excited laugh, momentarily removing his hand from the Russian’s crotch, sliding it up to his shoulder instead so he can steady himself for the underwear removal about to take place.
“Thank you, darling…” Vincent replies with a reassuring little smile, gently tugging at Eskil’s underwear, helping him slide his legs out of it.
As they to join the pile of clothes it really shouldn’t come as a surprise that the young Swede proves to be showing quite clear signs of arousal too. “Bed?” he asks.
“Yes please…” Vincent grins, taking the young Swede’s hand to lead him over to his own bed. Goodness, Vincent can feel his legs shaking with excitement...he has been thinking about this all day, after all.
This time Eskil remembers to actually pull back the covers so that they don’t end up like last time, to exhausted to deal with it, before he slides himself onto the bed. “So,” he says with a smile that’s a striking, yet odd, combination of shy and bold, “what do you want to do with me?”
Vincent climbs into the bed behind Eskil, deciding to sit--for some reason--cross-legged on the bed, smiling at the young Swede. “Well…” he starts, with a laugh, “I...I don’t know. There’s lots of things I want to do. I’d like to kiss you, and hold you, and...maybe…” he trails off, chuckling a little awkwardly, “Take you in my mouth again?”
“I’d like that, all of that,” Eskil says with an eager grin, reaching out his arms to the other man, spreading his legs a little to make room, “hold me first? I... I’d like to feel your weight on top of me.”
“Yes, of course, my sweet…” Vincent says with a smile, moving to rest himself between Eskil’s parted legs, before gently, gently lowering himself down against his lover’s torso, letting out a happy little sigh.
Eskil’s arms wraps around Vincent, ever so gently holding him. This, this, feeling the others want pressed against his own, feeling glorious chest hair against his own smooth skin, a warm solid body resting atop of his - he smiles, warmly and offers his mouth.
Vincent leans up to press a gentle kiss to Eskil’s lips, smiling as he does. Esse smells delightful as always, Vincent takes a small inhale as he plants a line of kisses across Eskil’s jawline, murmuring happily.
Eskil grins and gasps as his hands travel down Vincent’s back to his rear, gently but firmly holding on as Esse decides to roll his hips just the once - eager to hear or see his lover’s reaction.
Oh God, Vincent wasn’t expecting that, and he lifts his head to let out a moan of pleasure, involuntarily pressing down against Eskil’s movements. “H-Ha...wow…” he laughs, panting a little.
That reaction has Esse throwing his head back with a moan of his own. “More, like that, please.”
“Yeah?” Vincent grins, shifting his weight up a little so he can properly grind up against Eskil, growling as he does.
“Uh huh,” sounds Eskil’s very intelligent and breathy reply as he matches Vincent’s movements, pressing up as the other is pressing down.
“H-Ha...f-fuck, Esse…” Vincent laughs between moans and growls, so desperately happy to finally feel that skin-on-skin contact that he’s been dreaming of, all day.
“That’s...” Eskil pants, “that’s the, ah, general idea, yes,” he chuckles but it’s cut short by another moan.
Vincent laughs at that, shaking his head as he continues to move: “Y-You...you are terrible, Esse…” he chuckles, “And I absolutely adore it…” Vincent knows he should stop soon if they want to draw their pleasure out for longer...but oh, this feels too good.
Eskil grins and squeezes Vincent’s butt at that. “One... unhg, could say that you are rubbing off on me...”
The Russian bursts into loud laughter, yet again shaking his head, and finally having to pause for a moment to regain his composure. “O-Oh Esse, you are so delightful…” he laughs, “Especially when you grab my, uh, behind like that…”
“You like that?” Eskil asks with a delighted smile, giving Vincent’s rump yet another squeeze, happy to have found something Vincent enjoys - that isn’t as glaringly obvious as some of the other things Eskil’s attempted before.
“Yes!” Vincent beams, “Feels...feels nice having your hand back there…” he chuckles, a little embarrassed, “I’m...I’m happy to continue with this, but I might spend soon, just a warning…”
Eskil bites his lower lip as he considers that piece of information - there’s no denying he’s enjoying himself, but he’s not close to finishing yet. “If... if you did would you eh, be able to recover for more?”
“Yeah!” Vincent grins, a little too eagerly, excited to think that they’ll be going at it for more than one round. “Definitely!”
“Then I’d like to continue, this is good, very very good,” Eskil says, squeezing Vincent’s hips with his thighs in encouragement.
Vincent lets out a happy little moan, before leaning forward and continuing to grind up against Eskil, growling as he moves. He wants to do this over and over again, wants to be with Eskil all night...Vincent only hopes that his body can keep up with him.
The Swede releases Vincent’s behind so that he can clutch and twist the sheets with his fingers that’s no longer able to be gentle. “Good,” he moans, arching his back, panting and rolling his hips, falling into the rhythm Vincent’s set for them.
“Yeah? That feel nice?” Vincent growls, unable to help a little dirty talk when Eskil makes that face, those noises, arching his beautiful body…
“Feels fantastic,” Eskil manages between pants and gasps, “feels great,” and with that he wraps his legs around Vincent’s waist.
Those legs! Those beautiful runners’ legs...it’s almost too much, Vincent can feel his muscles tensing, his mouth growing dry…”I-I’m close…” is all he manages to say, panting heavily as he moves.
“Then kiss me,” Eskil moans, “want to kiss you when you come.”
Vincent swiftly presses his lips to Eskil’s, growling and moaning into the kiss. He’s close, so close...the friction of skin against skin is too much for him to bear for much longer.
Eskil’s hips pick up the pace as the Swede wants to knock his lover over the edge into bliss, and he opens his mouth up to lick at Vincent’s lips, begging for a deeper kiss.
Vincent slides his tongue into the young Swede’s wanting mouth, but that’s all he manages to do before he releases, pressing his entire body weight against Eskil as he tenses, crying out in pleasure--or at least, attempting to--as they kiss.
The Swede throws his arms around Vincent and tightens the grip of his legs around the man as he’s pressed down into the mattress, holding him close, close as he spends. Perfect! Wonderful! the two words repeating in his mind as his own tongue sweeps against the Russian’s.
Vincent pulls away to breathe, panting against Eskil’s mouth. He can’t think yet, can’t form words...but he smiles a big, soppy smile to let Esse know that his release had felt really, really good.
Eskil beams back, easing up on his hold but not quite able to stop himself from still rubbing up against the other man, still wanting and needy as he is. “Good?” he asks, panting.
“S-So good, so good…” he pants, grinning, before rolling off of Esse, flopping down onto his back. “Sorry, give me...j-just one second, and we can continue…”
“No, no rush,” Eskil says, meaning it even if he is yet to be satisfied himself, his own hands drifting over his sides and his stomach but never even getting close to his erection. “Felt wonderful, being pressed down beneath you like that.”
“R-Really? You like that?” Vincent pants, turning to smile at Eskil, “You like me on top of you?”
“Yesss,” Eskil gasps, “I... I might not want that all the time but, nice when, when the eh, mood strikes.”
Vincent grins, excited. “OK, well...you, uh, you just let me know when you want it and I’ll make sure not to squish you…” he laughs, running a hand through his hair as he continues: “I think...I think I can carry on now. Might take a while before I...uh...stand back to attention, though.”
“I will,” Eskil nods, swallowing, before coming to come curl up close to Vincent, his obvious need pressed against Vincent’s side. “That’s alright, it’s not like I don’t understand it,” he says with a little laugh.
“Well, I don’t know how experienced you are, remember…” Vincent laughs, turning a little to trail his fingers down Eskil’s stomach.
A needy whimper escapes his lips as he feels those fingers brushing against his stomach. “Need I remind you I have a cock of my own?” Eskil chuckles breathlessly.
“I can see that…” Vincent grins, gently wrapping his hand around the aforementioned cock, “I was referring to...lengthy...bedroom sessions.” There was surely a better way of phrasing that, but Vincent is still too blissed out from his orgasm to think of it.
It’s not like Eskil really hears what Vincent’s saying anyway as that hand holds him. Unlike Vincent Eskil is terribly desperate by now, the pause having done nothing to calm him but rather the opposite. “Please,” he begs, “Vincent, please.”
“Mm?” Vincent teases, “What do you want, my sweet?” Oh, he’s awful.
“D-Don’t,” Eskil whines, “to, haaa, need you!” he all but shouts the last part.
Vincent laughs, and drops his hand to position himself between Esse’s legs again, only this time, he remains a lot further down, giving him the required space to take Esse in his mouth.
Immediately as Vincent takes him in Eskil’s back arches in a tense bow, toes curling - this won’t take long at all.
Vincent bobs his head, greedily, hungrily, as he feels how wanting Eskil is. Goodness, he is so deliciously sensitive…
“Gonna,” is all the warning Vincent gets before Eskil comes with a broken cry, shaking and trembling.
Vincent swallows Eskil’s release, continuing with his tongue for a few moments to make sure that he gets every last drop, before pulling away and wiping his mouth, chuckling out a low: “Wow…”
Eskil breathes, or tries to at least as his heart is still rushing like a runaway train in his chest and his head is swimming from the overload of pleasure, his climax having been agonizing ecstasy. “Mhhmm,” is all he manages as a sort of answer.
“You taste so sweet…” Vincent laughs, moving forward to plant a gentle kiss to Eskil’s soft lips.
“Must,” he pants, still trying to catch his breath, “be all the... the chocolate,” Eskil smiles.
“Definitely, my sweet darling…” he mumbles against Esse’s lips, before rolling off of him to lay on his back, patting his own chest hair. “Want to cuddle?”
“Mmm,” Eskil says, but gestures to the nightstand where a wash bowl stands, half full with tepid water and a soft cloth, “cleaning up a little first might be a good idea.” It’d seem Eskil knows how to prepare for these sort of things after all.
“Lay back, then, sweetheart…” Vincent smiles, reaching for the cloth, gently dipping it into the water before rubbing it over Eskil’s stomach.
Eskil smiles softly as he watches Vincent work, his heart swelling at the gesture of gentle care. “Don’t forget yourself dear fuzzy bear,” he reminds him.
“I won’t, sweet thing, just want to make sure you’re comfortable…” Vincent smiles, and after a few last dabs, begins to work on cleaning himself up, chuckling. “We always make such a mess…”
“No, not last time... there was nothing left to clean up,” Eskil giggles as he studies Vincent washing himself and his smile goes rather dreamy.
“Oh, I forgot about that…” Vincent laughs, wiping the cloth through his chest hair, “What are you giggling at, dolce, mm?”
“Good memories of being tickled by a beard rather intimately, and the fact that the very same man who the beard belongs to is currently washing up in my bed...” Eskil replies, grinning fondly.
Vincent feels his cheeks reddening at that--he isn’t sure why he’s embarrassed, considering he just sucked Eskil’s cock, for goodness’ sake--and he chuckles, before finally finishing his clean-up. “I must remember to shave a little better before I come over at night…”
“As long as you don’t remove a single hair from your chest...” Eskil says as he reaches for the other man now that they’re both clean.
Vincent places the cloth over the side of the bowl, chuckling as he pulls Eskil closer to him, allowing the young Swede to rest against the Russian’s fuzz-covered chest. “I won’t, I promise. I think you’d weep if I ever waxed it...and I would, too.”
Eskil shudders at the thought, and at the chill as their heated bodies quickly cool, so he grabs one of the blankets to pull it up around them before settling in properly against Vincent’s chest. “Do not speak of such horrid things,” he chuckles, “you’ll...” he trails off before he can finish that sentence - it wouldn’t be very kind to say give me nightmares after their last experience, “you’d catch a cold without your fur to protect you.”
Vincent strokes through Esse’s hair, telling himself over and over not to fall asleep, however blissfully comfortable this might be. But he laughs at Esse’s warning, and lets out a loud growl. “That’s true, and then you’d catch one, too!”
“Ugh, don’t even joke about it,” Eskil groans but smiles, “I hate being sick.”
“Mm, I don’t much care for it either, I just get grumpy and snap at people…” Vincent laughs, “Though I’d look after you if you got sick.”
Eskil nuzzles his face against Vincent’s chest, cuddling closer as he tries to block the thoughts of illness out of his head. “I’d care for you too if you were unwell, read to you, spike your tea with whiskey and feed you soup,” he murmurs.
“You wouldn’t have to spike it, I’d probably be begging for it…” he laughs, “Though I would be very grumpy for a while...until you started stroking through my hair and reading to me. Then I’d give in and purr like a kitten.”
Eskil smiles as he says; “I’ll remember that if it happens, though please don’t go and get sick just to test my memory.”
“I won’t, I promise…” Vincent chuckles, trailing his fingers up Eskil’s arm and shoulder, “Um...did you want to carry on tonight, then?” he asks, a little awkwardly, “Or…?”
“Do you?” Eskil asks back, “Or did I tire you out?”
“No, no! I can go again!” Vincent assures him, desperate not to come across as old, “Honestly, we can do whatever you like…”
Eskil lifts his head from where he’s resting to look at the man. “Are you sure? We could always pick up again tomorrow if you’d rather just cuddle.”
Vincent bites his lip--he wants to sleep, wants to just hold Eskil close...and they did promise they’d be honest with each other, after all. “We could...do things tomorrow morning? Then have a bath together?”
Eskil smiles at that, glad Vincent’s being honest with him. “Of course, Vincent,” he says before pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “It’s a little late and I don’t mind going to sleep soon, it’d probably be good for me even.”
“If you want me to do something for you, I’m more than happy to…” Vincent assures him, “I-I just...I think today, with my leg and everything...it’s taken its toll on my body.”
The Swede nods and strokes Vincent’s beard. “I’m just happy to have you in my bed, we needn’t do anything and I’d still feel lucky - and we are doing something, we’re cuddling.”
Vincent beams with pride at that--Eskil feels lucky to sleep with him! “You are so beautiful…” he murmurs, nuzzling into Esse’s touch, “And so understanding. Thank you, my sweet Prince…”
Eskil doesn’t say, I know what it feels like to be too worn out from pain to make love, even if he does. What he does say is; “Thank you, fuzzy bear, for being here with me.”
“Thank you for inviting me, sweet thing…” Vincent says, and--he isn’t sure if it’s the fatigue or the fact that they just made love that gets to him--but he finds himself a little emotional as he continues: “A-And for calling me handsome, and...for making me a little happier with my body.”
“You’re welcome, älskling,” Eskil says placing a kiss right above Vincent’s heart. “And I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t think it’s true.”
“What does that mean?” Vincent asks, gently stroking through Eskil’s curls, “I hope it’s complimentary…” he laughs, his cheeks still a little flushed with pride.
“The closest translation would be darling, or maybe sweetheart I think... though it doesn’t really do it justice,” Eskil murmurs with a soft smile on his lips.
“So sweet, thank you…” Vincent murmurs, nodding, “I understand what you mean. The English language is quite awful for expressing passion, no?”
Eskil huffs a laugh. “You’re really asking a poet who writes in that very language if it’s awful for expressing passion... silly fuzzy bear,” he says pressing another little kiss to his chest. “... you’re not wrong though.”
“Oh...I didn’t mean…” Vincent starts, embarrassed, though there is a smile upon his lips, “I know you are good at expressing passion with English, I just meant that it’s difficult...though if you are going to kiss my chest so sweetly, I may have to continue to accidentally insult you.”
“You’re hardly insulting me, and I’m not sure passion is what I’d say most of my poems are trying to convey, and it isn’t my language... never will be,” Eskil says with a little sigh - knowing he’ll never return to a place where his own tongue is spoken by a majority of people. “It isn’t a very romantic language on it’s own, then again neither is Swedish.”
“You speak very good English!” Vincent protests, “Though...I know, if I was to write poetry, I think I would prefer to write it in Italian. And I think it’s romantic when you speak Swedish...and your accent is very, very cute…” he chuckles.
“I know I do, I also speak very good German - doesn’t make it mine,” Eskil says, the smallest hint of sadness in his smile. “Don’t you think it would depend on what I’m saying?” he asks. “What if I just rambled on about... oh I don’t know, slugs, would you still think it’d be romantic,” Eskil asks with a grin that fades again. “The accent...” will always mark me as an outsider, “oh but I don’t need to tell you, you have one of your own after all.”
“Well, considering I don’t know any Swedish, I think I would find anything you said to be hopelessly romantic...and yes, I’m aware that I talk like a Russian who is trying to sound like a sexy young Italian…” he laughs, shaking his head at the young Swede.
“Well, since I’m not very familiar with either other Russians or Italians I wouldn’t have been able to tell,” Esse laughs. “I like your accent though, the harshness of the Russian being softened by the streaks of Italian... somehow it suits your voice,” Eskil muses.
Vincent smiles at that...Eskil has really been listening to him talk. “Well, thank you, sweet thing. Feel free to bring me out at parties and parade me around…” he laughs.
“I think I’d rather be selfish for once and keep you all to myself so you can speak softly to me,” Eskil admits.
“Really?” Vincent says, a warm little smile to his lips, “And tell you how beautiful you are, over and over?”
“As if I could stop you,” the boy chuckles. “You know you are allowed to speak of other things as well, no?”
“I know, but nothing much else really captures my attention when you’re in the room…” he laughs.
Eskil smiles at that, even if it is over the top and ridiculous, but it’s also sweet. “Hmm, can’t help but wonder what you’re missing out on then. What if there was a fire?”
“If there was a fire...hm...I think I would have to scoop you up in my arms, and carry you triumphantly out of the burning building...after removing my shirt and oiling my chest up, of course…” he grins.
“You do know oil is flammable, no?” Eskil remarks dryly, but grins.
“...Oh…” Vincent says, thinking for a moment, before adding: “Hm...maybe I’m not the best person to turn to, then, during a fire…” and bursts into laughter.
“Apparently not, though no need to fret, I’ll be the triumphant hero who’s sensible enough to keep my clothes on if need be,” Eskil says before joining in on the laughter.
“Perhaps one shouldn’t take life advice from awful romance novellas after all…” Vincent laughs, shaking his head, “And instead, I should just listen to my sensible young Swede.”
“God I sound dull when you put it like that,” Eskil shakes his head. “Though I guess I can be at times.”
“Eskil, you are not dull for simply not wanting to set yourself on fire…” Vincent laughs, “But you are not dull in any situation! You...you took me in your mouth whole!” he blurts out, wishing he could have thought of a slightly less scandalous example.
That makes Eskil burst into laughter so hard he’s shaking from it. “That’s... that’s true.”
“Honestly, I’m still impressed by that…” he laughs, kissing through Esse’s hair, “I must tell Mr Navas…” he adds, jokingly.
Eskil smacks him in the chest, though playfully rather than anything else. “You’ll do no such thing, it’s... well it’s private.”
“But he’ll be so impressed! He’ll have your great feat published in all of Veilgarden’s most read publications!” Vincent grins, being an awful tease.
He’s joking, he’s joking, for God’s sake don’t get so embarrassed, he’s joking! is the mantra going through Esse’s head as he hides his face against Vincent’s chest.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Vincent laughs, running his hand through Esse’s hair as he finally gives in, “I’m just teasing you...I would never tell anyone about us sleeping together, let alone any details like that...please don’t slap me…” he chuckles.
“I won’t,” Eskil murmurs against Vincent’s chest, still unwilling to look up.
“I made you blush, didn’t I?” Vincent laughs, nuzzling into Esse’s curls.
“... yeah, you, you did,” Eskil admits, his voice small.
“You’re not angry with me, are you, sweet thing?” Vincent murmurs, a little concerned that Esse may suffocate in his chest hair.
Eskil looks up at that, looking a little troubled, but hardly angry. “No, I’m not mad at you,” he assures.
“I really do keep quiet about us, when it comes to those kind of matters. I don’t...uh...what’s the English phrase? About gentlemen not telling? Ah, anyway, really, I was just being annoying, I promise…” he laughs.
“I know, I know...” though does he really? Is he being foolish trusting a man he’s only met a handful of times and now have taken to bed without really thinking at all about consequences because he’s a naive trusting sweetheart? Maybe. But he does trust Vincent, so why can’t he just let the joke go?
Vincent notices the worry on the other man’s face and feels bad--why does he always have to ruin their perfect moments with his stupid talk? “I’m sorry, really. I shouldn’t joke about your reputation like that.”
“No it’s, it was just a joke... I’m being too sensitive,” Eskil replies quietly.
“You’re not...I forget that you have a reputation to keep, really...I’m sorry to have upset you, sweet darling…” he murmurs, concerned as he kisses through Eskil’s hair.
Why can’t I just take a joke for what it is? Why can’t I just not be like this? Why must I overthink every little thing all the time? Eskil thinks as he curls up on Vincent’s chest - feeling miserable for having ruined their fun with his oversensitivity.
“You are so beautiful…” Vincent smiles, nuzzling up against Eskil, “So lovely...I am so lucky. So lucky…”
“I wish I wasn’t like this,” Eskil, finally, begins to speak his mind, “but I can’t help it. Back above, if a thing like that had gotten out I wouldn’t just have been a paria, I’d... I’d have been dragged of to some institution at best and... disposed of at worst.”
“I know, I know...I’m sorry, I...I was arrested for it, myself, years ago…” Vincent finally admits, “And I shouldn’t joke about it when you’ll only end up scared, over nothing. Really, I’m sorry. You are so kind, so gentle…”
Eskil looks up at that admission, and presses a kiss to Vincent’s collarbone. “You were a braver man than I for daring to at least try. I get scared down here in London where I have nothing to fear - well, not when it comes to this anyway.”
“Eh, it was a...long time ago, when I was young, and eager to protest…” Vincent sighs, kissing Esse’s forehead, “But you’re safe here, with me. I know we said not to make promises, but...I promise you’re safe here.”
The Swede nods. “I know that,” Eskil says, meaning it, “I just can’t turn off my brain.”
“I know, I know...you need to...not think, I suppose, but it’s hard. I...I don’t know what we could talk about, I…” Vincent trails off, feeling quite useless, until an idea pops into his head. And in his low, quiet voice, he begins to sing a Russian lullaby: a soft, gentle melody that his mother used to sing to Vincent and his sister when they were young.
Eskil blinks, once, and then he just listens - letting Vincent’s voice wash over him, giving him something to focus on so that he can let his anxieties go and still his mind again. A soft smile spreads on his lips as the tension leaves him.
He has never sung this himself--and remembering his mother’s soft, high voice and hearing his own low, growling voice causes Vincent to grow a little emotional--but he makes sure his voice does not waver. This is for Eskil, after all, and Vincent is determined to sound as soothing as possible as he sings out the old Russian melody. He hopes it helps, even a little.
Once the room goes quiet again, and all that can be heard are the sounds of their breathing Eskil moves up to press his forehead against Vincent’s, murmuring a; “Thank you,” before pressing his lips against the Russian’s in a kiss filled with gratitude.
Vincent kisses back, a hand moving to cup Eskil’s cheek, holding him close. He feels like crying, suddenly missing a life he’d always hated, but...no. He has someone to be strong for, now.
“You,” he whispers, “are wonderful, Vincent.” Eskil dare not speak louder for fear of crushing this fragile moment of peace, but he smiles.
The Russian swallows hard, smiling. “T-Told you I’d sing, didn’t I?” he says, stroking his thumb across Eskil’s cheek. “Thank you for listening.”
“You did,” he agrees, “and I think that this time it is I who should thank you, or at least I should also thank you. You helped.”
“Any time…” he smiles, pressing another kiss to Esse’s lips, finally feeling as if he useful.
Eskil returns to resting against Vincent’s chest again, one hand slowly curling and uncurling in that fur of his. “It’s... it’s been a long day with quite a few revelations. Do you think we should try and sleep?”
“Definitely…” Vincent says, with a little sigh, “I think I’ll at least sleep well, with you curled up against me like this, playing with my fuzz…”
“It’s so soft...” Eskil says with a small and tired albeit happy grin. “And I think I’ll sleep well, knowing I’m going to wake up next to you.”
“Beautiful young darling…” Vincent murmurs, already yawning, one hand lazily stroking through Eskil’s hair.
“My singing bear,” Eskil mumbles back as Vincent’s yawns are contagious, hand slowing where it lies.
“So sweet...so gentle…” Vincent mutters, his fingers slowing too, choosing just to rest in Eskil’s hair. Vincent closes his eyes, and lets out a gentle snore.
“Goodnight, Vincent,” Eskil whispers as he hears the other man doze off - and he himself isn’t far behind, joining the Russian in sleep.
[Warnings: NSFW. Sex. Some anxiety issues.]
Eskil clicks the bedroom door shut behind them, locking it, before grabbing Vincent around the waist and pulling him into his arms. “God, Vincent, I nearly couldn’t concentrate on what I was reading because I thought about this...”
“Really?” Vincent grins, biting his bottom lip as he wraps his arms around Eskil, “Because I found it very difficult to write advertisements when all I could think about was taking you to bed…”
“Then less thinking and more doing,” Eskil laughs a little breathlessly.
“Well, what do you want me to do?” Vincent growls with a little smile, before beginning to kiss at Esse’s neck.
“T-That,” Eskil gasps, hands clutching at Vincent’s backside, “but with less clothes on.”
“Fuck…” Vincent chuckles against Esse’s skin, before pulling back, hands now busily working to undress Eskil--his fingers fumbling to unbutton his waistcoat, and shirt. Why are buttons so damned fiddly?
Eskil places his own hands atop Vincent’s, trembling a little from the excitement, grinning at the Russian. “Allow me, I’m quicker at it.”
“Sorry, sorry…” Vincent laughs, sliding his hands away to undress himself instead, “I get too excited around you…”
“Don’t apologise for that,” Eskil laughs as he chucks his jacket off, tossing it on the settee and unbuttons waistcoat and shirt in a matter of seconds - nimble fingers a blur as they work. It’d seem that apart from being a talented poet, a pretty good musician, an excellent runner and the best at cute shy smiles Eskil is also more than adept at making short work of his own clothing.
That beautiful torso...that stomach! Vincent stops to stare for a moment, utterly transfixed by Eskil’s frame. He knows he should be undressing himself--he is eager, after all--but…wow!
Eskil looks up to catch that stare and can’t help but blush. “See anything you like, hmm?” he asks, stretching his arms over his head and favours Vincent with a slow pirouette to show himself off.
Oh...oh fuck. “Y-You...you’re...wow…” is all Vincent manages to say, with a dry laugh, “You’re...irresistibly beautiful.”
You say such things, is on the tip of Eskil’s tongue as the blush creeps even lower, down his neck, down his chest even, but instead he shakes his head and says; “Oh keep up you, you’re falling behind.”
Vincent grins and proceeds to make quick work of removing his waistcoat and shirt, throwing them on the settee to join Eskil’s discarded clothes. Vincent doesn’t care that he has a bit of a tummy, or that a few of his chest hairs are very definitely grey. He’s just so excited to be here, with Eskil, with the opportunity to make love to someone so kind, so fun!
Eskil pulls off his socks and his trousers follows quickly - then, just wearing his briefs he steps into Vincent’s reach. The shyness is back, but it’s without hesitance he places a gentle hand on Vincent’s chest, fingers curling in that wonderful hair. So soft.
“Hello, sweet thing…” Vincent murmurs, wrapping his arms around Eskil before planting a line of soft kisses down his jawline, eventually reaching his neck again with a smirk.
“Hi, fuzzy bear,” Esse replies softly with a gentle smile, pressing himself closer as Vincent’s arms wraps around him, little gasps of delight escaping his lips as the Russian once again shows his neck such lovely affection.
Vincent continues to kiss and lick at Eskil’s neck, whilst awkwardly trying to undress himself. He manages to kick his shoes off fairly easily, and reaches for his belt with a gentle chuckle, realising this would all be a little easier if he’d just stop kissing at Eskil’s pretty neck for a moment. But, of course, he doesn’t, continuing to attempt to unbuckle his belt.
Realising this Eskil’s hands travel down Vincent’s side and comes to join in on the efforts of getting that belt off, and Eskil does have clever hands.
“Thank you…” Vincent laughs, eventually pulling away from Eskil’s neck. With the help of his lover’s skilled hands, he slides the belt off, before making quick work of his trousers and socks, throwing them to the pile of ever-growing clothes. And, eh…bugger it he thinks, pulling his drawers off too, revealing that he’s rather excited already.
Without really thinking Eskil reaches out to palm Vincent’s cock with one soft gentle hand. Even like this he is big. “You’re stunning when you’re naked,” he says, and the sincerity in his voice can not be mistaken.
Vincent is taken aback, but he smiles, so happy to be complimented so genuinely. “You...you are so sweet to me, darling…” he says, running a hand through Eskil’s soft hair.
Eskil’s smile is on the verge of looking quite silly as he beams at the Russian, his grey eyes sparkling with equal measures of delight and desire. Though he quickly realises he doesn’t really know where to go from here.
“Can I take these off, sweet thing?” Vincent asks, gesturing to Eskil’s underwear. They’re both clearly excited, but still quite new at doing this with one another, and Vincent doesn’t want to push the young Swede too far.
“Yes,” Eskil says with a slightly nervous but mostly excited laugh, momentarily removing his hand from the Russian’s crotch, sliding it up to his shoulder instead so he can steady himself for the underwear removal about to take place.
“Thank you, darling…” Vincent replies with a reassuring little smile, gently tugging at Eskil’s underwear, helping him slide his legs out of it.
As they to join the pile of clothes it really shouldn’t come as a surprise that the young Swede proves to be showing quite clear signs of arousal too. “Bed?” he asks.
“Yes please…” Vincent grins, taking the young Swede’s hand to lead him over to his own bed. Goodness, Vincent can feel his legs shaking with excitement...he has been thinking about this all day, after all.
This time Eskil remembers to actually pull back the covers so that they don’t end up like last time, to exhausted to deal with it, before he slides himself onto the bed. “So,” he says with a smile that’s a striking, yet odd, combination of shy and bold, “what do you want to do with me?”
Vincent climbs into the bed behind Eskil, deciding to sit--for some reason--cross-legged on the bed, smiling at the young Swede. “Well…” he starts, with a laugh, “I...I don’t know. There’s lots of things I want to do. I’d like to kiss you, and hold you, and...maybe…” he trails off, chuckling a little awkwardly, “Take you in my mouth again?”
“I’d like that, all of that,” Eskil says with an eager grin, reaching out his arms to the other man, spreading his legs a little to make room, “hold me first? I... I’d like to feel your weight on top of me.”
“Yes, of course, my sweet…” Vincent says with a smile, moving to rest himself between Eskil’s parted legs, before gently, gently lowering himself down against his lover’s torso, letting out a happy little sigh.
Eskil’s arms wraps around Vincent, ever so gently holding him. This, this, feeling the others want pressed against his own, feeling glorious chest hair against his own smooth skin, a warm solid body resting atop of his - he smiles, warmly and offers his mouth.
Vincent leans up to press a gentle kiss to Eskil’s lips, smiling as he does. Esse smells delightful as always, Vincent takes a small inhale as he plants a line of kisses across Eskil’s jawline, murmuring happily.
Eskil grins and gasps as his hands travel down Vincent’s back to his rear, gently but firmly holding on as Esse decides to roll his hips just the once - eager to hear or see his lover’s reaction.
Oh God, Vincent wasn’t expecting that, and he lifts his head to let out a moan of pleasure, involuntarily pressing down against Eskil’s movements. “H-Ha...wow…” he laughs, panting a little.
That reaction has Esse throwing his head back with a moan of his own. “More, like that, please.”
“Yeah?” Vincent grins, shifting his weight up a little so he can properly grind up against Eskil, growling as he does.
“Uh huh,” sounds Eskil’s very intelligent and breathy reply as he matches Vincent’s movements, pressing up as the other is pressing down.
“H-Ha...f-fuck, Esse…” Vincent laughs between moans and growls, so desperately happy to finally feel that skin-on-skin contact that he’s been dreaming of, all day.
“That’s...” Eskil pants, “that’s the, ah, general idea, yes,” he chuckles but it’s cut short by another moan.
Vincent laughs at that, shaking his head as he continues to move: “Y-You...you are terrible, Esse…” he chuckles, “And I absolutely adore it…” Vincent knows he should stop soon if they want to draw their pleasure out for longer...but oh, this feels too good.
Eskil grins and squeezes Vincent’s butt at that. “One... unhg, could say that you are rubbing off on me...”
The Russian bursts into loud laughter, yet again shaking his head, and finally having to pause for a moment to regain his composure. “O-Oh Esse, you are so delightful…” he laughs, “Especially when you grab my, uh, behind like that…”
“You like that?” Eskil asks with a delighted smile, giving Vincent’s rump yet another squeeze, happy to have found something Vincent enjoys - that isn’t as glaringly obvious as some of the other things Eskil’s attempted before.
“Yes!” Vincent beams, “Feels...feels nice having your hand back there…” he chuckles, a little embarrassed, “I’m...I’m happy to continue with this, but I might spend soon, just a warning…”
Eskil bites his lower lip as he considers that piece of information - there’s no denying he’s enjoying himself, but he’s not close to finishing yet. “If... if you did would you eh, be able to recover for more?”
“Yeah!” Vincent grins, a little too eagerly, excited to think that they’ll be going at it for more than one round. “Definitely!”
“Then I’d like to continue, this is good, very very good,” Eskil says, squeezing Vincent’s hips with his thighs in encouragement.
Vincent lets out a happy little moan, before leaning forward and continuing to grind up against Eskil, growling as he moves. He wants to do this over and over again, wants to be with Eskil all night...Vincent only hopes that his body can keep up with him.
The Swede releases Vincent’s behind so that he can clutch and twist the sheets with his fingers that’s no longer able to be gentle. “Good,” he moans, arching his back, panting and rolling his hips, falling into the rhythm Vincent’s set for them.
“Yeah? That feel nice?” Vincent growls, unable to help a little dirty talk when Eskil makes that face, those noises, arching his beautiful body…
“Feels fantastic,” Eskil manages between pants and gasps, “feels great,” and with that he wraps his legs around Vincent’s waist.
Those legs! Those beautiful runners’ legs...it’s almost too much, Vincent can feel his muscles tensing, his mouth growing dry…”I-I’m close…” is all he manages to say, panting heavily as he moves.
“Then kiss me,” Eskil moans, “want to kiss you when you come.”
Vincent swiftly presses his lips to Eskil’s, growling and moaning into the kiss. He’s close, so close...the friction of skin against skin is too much for him to bear for much longer.
Eskil’s hips pick up the pace as the Swede wants to knock his lover over the edge into bliss, and he opens his mouth up to lick at Vincent’s lips, begging for a deeper kiss.
Vincent slides his tongue into the young Swede’s wanting mouth, but that’s all he manages to do before he releases, pressing his entire body weight against Eskil as he tenses, crying out in pleasure--or at least, attempting to--as they kiss.
The Swede throws his arms around Vincent and tightens the grip of his legs around the man as he’s pressed down into the mattress, holding him close, close as he spends. Perfect! Wonderful! the two words repeating in his mind as his own tongue sweeps against the Russian’s.
Vincent pulls away to breathe, panting against Eskil’s mouth. He can’t think yet, can’t form words...but he smiles a big, soppy smile to let Esse know that his release had felt really, really good.
Eskil beams back, easing up on his hold but not quite able to stop himself from still rubbing up against the other man, still wanting and needy as he is. “Good?” he asks, panting.
“S-So good, so good…” he pants, grinning, before rolling off of Esse, flopping down onto his back. “Sorry, give me...j-just one second, and we can continue…”
“No, no rush,” Eskil says, meaning it even if he is yet to be satisfied himself, his own hands drifting over his sides and his stomach but never even getting close to his erection. “Felt wonderful, being pressed down beneath you like that.”
“R-Really? You like that?” Vincent pants, turning to smile at Eskil, “You like me on top of you?”
“Yesss,” Eskil gasps, “I... I might not want that all the time but, nice when, when the eh, mood strikes.”
Vincent grins, excited. “OK, well...you, uh, you just let me know when you want it and I’ll make sure not to squish you…” he laughs, running a hand through his hair as he continues: “I think...I think I can carry on now. Might take a while before I...uh...stand back to attention, though.”
“I will,” Eskil nods, swallowing, before coming to come curl up close to Vincent, his obvious need pressed against Vincent’s side. “That’s alright, it’s not like I don’t understand it,” he says with a little laugh.
“Well, I don’t know how experienced you are, remember…” Vincent laughs, turning a little to trail his fingers down Eskil’s stomach.
A needy whimper escapes his lips as he feels those fingers brushing against his stomach. “Need I remind you I have a cock of my own?” Eskil chuckles breathlessly.
“I can see that…” Vincent grins, gently wrapping his hand around the aforementioned cock, “I was referring to...lengthy...bedroom sessions.” There was surely a better way of phrasing that, but Vincent is still too blissed out from his orgasm to think of it.
It’s not like Eskil really hears what Vincent’s saying anyway as that hand holds him. Unlike Vincent Eskil is terribly desperate by now, the pause having done nothing to calm him but rather the opposite. “Please,” he begs, “Vincent, please.”
“Mm?” Vincent teases, “What do you want, my sweet?” Oh, he’s awful.
“D-Don’t,” Eskil whines, “to, haaa, need you!” he all but shouts the last part.
Vincent laughs, and drops his hand to position himself between Esse’s legs again, only this time, he remains a lot further down, giving him the required space to take Esse in his mouth.
Immediately as Vincent takes him in Eskil’s back arches in a tense bow, toes curling - this won’t take long at all.
Vincent bobs his head, greedily, hungrily, as he feels how wanting Eskil is. Goodness, he is so deliciously sensitive…
“Gonna,” is all the warning Vincent gets before Eskil comes with a broken cry, shaking and trembling.
Vincent swallows Eskil’s release, continuing with his tongue for a few moments to make sure that he gets every last drop, before pulling away and wiping his mouth, chuckling out a low: “Wow…”
Eskil breathes, or tries to at least as his heart is still rushing like a runaway train in his chest and his head is swimming from the overload of pleasure, his climax having been agonizing ecstasy. “Mhhmm,” is all he manages as a sort of answer.
“You taste so sweet…” Vincent laughs, moving forward to plant a gentle kiss to Eskil’s soft lips.
“Must,” he pants, still trying to catch his breath, “be all the... the chocolate,” Eskil smiles.
“Definitely, my sweet darling…” he mumbles against Esse’s lips, before rolling off of him to lay on his back, patting his own chest hair. “Want to cuddle?”
“Mmm,” Eskil says, but gestures to the nightstand where a wash bowl stands, half full with tepid water and a soft cloth, “cleaning up a little first might be a good idea.” It’d seem Eskil knows how to prepare for these sort of things after all.
“Lay back, then, sweetheart…” Vincent smiles, reaching for the cloth, gently dipping it into the water before rubbing it over Eskil’s stomach.
Eskil smiles softly as he watches Vincent work, his heart swelling at the gesture of gentle care. “Don’t forget yourself dear fuzzy bear,” he reminds him.
“I won’t, sweet thing, just want to make sure you’re comfortable…” Vincent smiles, and after a few last dabs, begins to work on cleaning himself up, chuckling. “We always make such a mess…”
“No, not last time... there was nothing left to clean up,” Eskil giggles as he studies Vincent washing himself and his smile goes rather dreamy.
“Oh, I forgot about that…” Vincent laughs, wiping the cloth through his chest hair, “What are you giggling at, dolce, mm?”
“Good memories of being tickled by a beard rather intimately, and the fact that the very same man who the beard belongs to is currently washing up in my bed...” Eskil replies, grinning fondly.
Vincent feels his cheeks reddening at that--he isn’t sure why he’s embarrassed, considering he just sucked Eskil’s cock, for goodness’ sake--and he chuckles, before finally finishing his clean-up. “I must remember to shave a little better before I come over at night…”
“As long as you don’t remove a single hair from your chest...” Eskil says as he reaches for the other man now that they’re both clean.
Vincent places the cloth over the side of the bowl, chuckling as he pulls Eskil closer to him, allowing the young Swede to rest against the Russian’s fuzz-covered chest. “I won’t, I promise. I think you’d weep if I ever waxed it...and I would, too.”
Eskil shudders at the thought, and at the chill as their heated bodies quickly cool, so he grabs one of the blankets to pull it up around them before settling in properly against Vincent’s chest. “Do not speak of such horrid things,” he chuckles, “you’ll...” he trails off before he can finish that sentence - it wouldn’t be very kind to say give me nightmares after their last experience, “you’d catch a cold without your fur to protect you.”
Vincent strokes through Esse’s hair, telling himself over and over not to fall asleep, however blissfully comfortable this might be. But he laughs at Esse’s warning, and lets out a loud growl. “That’s true, and then you’d catch one, too!”
“Ugh, don’t even joke about it,” Eskil groans but smiles, “I hate being sick.”
“Mm, I don’t much care for it either, I just get grumpy and snap at people…” Vincent laughs, “Though I’d look after you if you got sick.”
Eskil nuzzles his face against Vincent’s chest, cuddling closer as he tries to block the thoughts of illness out of his head. “I’d care for you too if you were unwell, read to you, spike your tea with whiskey and feed you soup,” he murmurs.
“You wouldn’t have to spike it, I’d probably be begging for it…” he laughs, “Though I would be very grumpy for a while...until you started stroking through my hair and reading to me. Then I’d give in and purr like a kitten.”
Eskil smiles as he says; “I’ll remember that if it happens, though please don’t go and get sick just to test my memory.”
“I won’t, I promise…” Vincent chuckles, trailing his fingers up Eskil’s arm and shoulder, “Um...did you want to carry on tonight, then?” he asks, a little awkwardly, “Or…?”
“Do you?” Eskil asks back, “Or did I tire you out?”
“No, no! I can go again!” Vincent assures him, desperate not to come across as old, “Honestly, we can do whatever you like…”
Eskil lifts his head from where he’s resting to look at the man. “Are you sure? We could always pick up again tomorrow if you’d rather just cuddle.”
Vincent bites his lip--he wants to sleep, wants to just hold Eskil close...and they did promise they’d be honest with each other, after all. “We could...do things tomorrow morning? Then have a bath together?”
Eskil smiles at that, glad Vincent’s being honest with him. “Of course, Vincent,” he says before pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “It’s a little late and I don’t mind going to sleep soon, it’d probably be good for me even.”
“If you want me to do something for you, I’m more than happy to…” Vincent assures him, “I-I just...I think today, with my leg and everything...it’s taken its toll on my body.”
The Swede nods and strokes Vincent’s beard. “I’m just happy to have you in my bed, we needn’t do anything and I’d still feel lucky - and we are doing something, we’re cuddling.”
Vincent beams with pride at that--Eskil feels lucky to sleep with him! “You are so beautiful…” he murmurs, nuzzling into Esse’s touch, “And so understanding. Thank you, my sweet Prince…”
Eskil doesn’t say, I know what it feels like to be too worn out from pain to make love, even if he does. What he does say is; “Thank you, fuzzy bear, for being here with me.”
“Thank you for inviting me, sweet thing…” Vincent says, and--he isn’t sure if it’s the fatigue or the fact that they just made love that gets to him--but he finds himself a little emotional as he continues: “A-And for calling me handsome, and...for making me a little happier with my body.”
“You’re welcome, älskling,” Eskil says placing a kiss right above Vincent’s heart. “And I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t think it’s true.”
“What does that mean?” Vincent asks, gently stroking through Eskil’s curls, “I hope it’s complimentary…” he laughs, his cheeks still a little flushed with pride.
“The closest translation would be darling, or maybe sweetheart I think... though it doesn’t really do it justice,” Eskil murmurs with a soft smile on his lips.
“So sweet, thank you…” Vincent murmurs, nodding, “I understand what you mean. The English language is quite awful for expressing passion, no?”
Eskil huffs a laugh. “You’re really asking a poet who writes in that very language if it’s awful for expressing passion... silly fuzzy bear,” he says pressing another little kiss to his chest. “... you’re not wrong though.”
“Oh...I didn’t mean…” Vincent starts, embarrassed, though there is a smile upon his lips, “I know you are good at expressing passion with English, I just meant that it’s difficult...though if you are going to kiss my chest so sweetly, I may have to continue to accidentally insult you.”
“You’re hardly insulting me, and I’m not sure passion is what I’d say most of my poems are trying to convey, and it isn’t my language... never will be,” Eskil says with a little sigh - knowing he’ll never return to a place where his own tongue is spoken by a majority of people. “It isn’t a very romantic language on it’s own, then again neither is Swedish.”
“You speak very good English!” Vincent protests, “Though...I know, if I was to write poetry, I think I would prefer to write it in Italian. And I think it’s romantic when you speak Swedish...and your accent is very, very cute…” he chuckles.
“I know I do, I also speak very good German - doesn’t make it mine,” Eskil says, the smallest hint of sadness in his smile. “Don’t you think it would depend on what I’m saying?” he asks. “What if I just rambled on about... oh I don’t know, slugs, would you still think it’d be romantic,” Eskil asks with a grin that fades again. “The accent...” will always mark me as an outsider, “oh but I don’t need to tell you, you have one of your own after all.”
“Well, considering I don’t know any Swedish, I think I would find anything you said to be hopelessly romantic...and yes, I’m aware that I talk like a Russian who is trying to sound like a sexy young Italian…” he laughs, shaking his head at the young Swede.
“Well, since I’m not very familiar with either other Russians or Italians I wouldn’t have been able to tell,” Esse laughs. “I like your accent though, the harshness of the Russian being softened by the streaks of Italian... somehow it suits your voice,” Eskil muses.
Vincent smiles at that...Eskil has really been listening to him talk. “Well, thank you, sweet thing. Feel free to bring me out at parties and parade me around…” he laughs.
“I think I’d rather be selfish for once and keep you all to myself so you can speak softly to me,” Eskil admits.
“Really?” Vincent says, a warm little smile to his lips, “And tell you how beautiful you are, over and over?”
“As if I could stop you,” the boy chuckles. “You know you are allowed to speak of other things as well, no?”
“I know, but nothing much else really captures my attention when you’re in the room…” he laughs.
Eskil smiles at that, even if it is over the top and ridiculous, but it’s also sweet. “Hmm, can’t help but wonder what you’re missing out on then. What if there was a fire?”
“If there was a fire...hm...I think I would have to scoop you up in my arms, and carry you triumphantly out of the burning building...after removing my shirt and oiling my chest up, of course…” he grins.
“You do know oil is flammable, no?” Eskil remarks dryly, but grins.
“...Oh…” Vincent says, thinking for a moment, before adding: “Hm...maybe I’m not the best person to turn to, then, during a fire…” and bursts into laughter.
“Apparently not, though no need to fret, I’ll be the triumphant hero who’s sensible enough to keep my clothes on if need be,” Eskil says before joining in on the laughter.
“Perhaps one shouldn’t take life advice from awful romance novellas after all…” Vincent laughs, shaking his head, “And instead, I should just listen to my sensible young Swede.”
“God I sound dull when you put it like that,” Eskil shakes his head. “Though I guess I can be at times.”
“Eskil, you are not dull for simply not wanting to set yourself on fire…” Vincent laughs, “But you are not dull in any situation! You...you took me in your mouth whole!” he blurts out, wishing he could have thought of a slightly less scandalous example.
That makes Eskil burst into laughter so hard he’s shaking from it. “That’s... that’s true.”
“Honestly, I’m still impressed by that…” he laughs, kissing through Esse’s hair, “I must tell Mr Navas…” he adds, jokingly.
Eskil smacks him in the chest, though playfully rather than anything else. “You’ll do no such thing, it’s... well it’s private.”
“But he’ll be so impressed! He’ll have your great feat published in all of Veilgarden’s most read publications!” Vincent grins, being an awful tease.
He’s joking, he’s joking, for God’s sake don’t get so embarrassed, he’s joking! is the mantra going through Esse’s head as he hides his face against Vincent’s chest.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Vincent laughs, running his hand through Esse’s hair as he finally gives in, “I’m just teasing you...I would never tell anyone about us sleeping together, let alone any details like that...please don’t slap me…” he chuckles.
“I won’t,” Eskil murmurs against Vincent’s chest, still unwilling to look up.
“I made you blush, didn’t I?” Vincent laughs, nuzzling into Esse’s curls.
“... yeah, you, you did,” Eskil admits, his voice small.
“You’re not angry with me, are you, sweet thing?” Vincent murmurs, a little concerned that Esse may suffocate in his chest hair.
Eskil looks up at that, looking a little troubled, but hardly angry. “No, I’m not mad at you,” he assures.
“I really do keep quiet about us, when it comes to those kind of matters. I don’t...uh...what’s the English phrase? About gentlemen not telling? Ah, anyway, really, I was just being annoying, I promise…” he laughs.
“I know, I know...” though does he really? Is he being foolish trusting a man he’s only met a handful of times and now have taken to bed without really thinking at all about consequences because he’s a naive trusting sweetheart? Maybe. But he does trust Vincent, so why can’t he just let the joke go?
Vincent notices the worry on the other man’s face and feels bad--why does he always have to ruin their perfect moments with his stupid talk? “I’m sorry, really. I shouldn’t joke about your reputation like that.”
“No it’s, it was just a joke... I’m being too sensitive,” Eskil replies quietly.
“You’re not...I forget that you have a reputation to keep, really...I’m sorry to have upset you, sweet darling…” he murmurs, concerned as he kisses through Eskil’s hair.
Why can’t I just take a joke for what it is? Why can’t I just not be like this? Why must I overthink every little thing all the time? Eskil thinks as he curls up on Vincent’s chest - feeling miserable for having ruined their fun with his oversensitivity.
“You are so beautiful…” Vincent smiles, nuzzling up against Eskil, “So lovely...I am so lucky. So lucky…”
“I wish I wasn’t like this,” Eskil, finally, begins to speak his mind, “but I can’t help it. Back above, if a thing like that had gotten out I wouldn’t just have been a paria, I’d... I’d have been dragged of to some institution at best and... disposed of at worst.”
“I know, I know...I’m sorry, I...I was arrested for it, myself, years ago…” Vincent finally admits, “And I shouldn’t joke about it when you’ll only end up scared, over nothing. Really, I’m sorry. You are so kind, so gentle…”
Eskil looks up at that admission, and presses a kiss to Vincent’s collarbone. “You were a braver man than I for daring to at least try. I get scared down here in London where I have nothing to fear - well, not when it comes to this anyway.”
“Eh, it was a...long time ago, when I was young, and eager to protest…” Vincent sighs, kissing Esse’s forehead, “But you’re safe here, with me. I know we said not to make promises, but...I promise you’re safe here.”
The Swede nods. “I know that,” Eskil says, meaning it, “I just can’t turn off my brain.”
“I know, I know...you need to...not think, I suppose, but it’s hard. I...I don’t know what we could talk about, I…” Vincent trails off, feeling quite useless, until an idea pops into his head. And in his low, quiet voice, he begins to sing a Russian lullaby: a soft, gentle melody that his mother used to sing to Vincent and his sister when they were young.
Eskil blinks, once, and then he just listens - letting Vincent’s voice wash over him, giving him something to focus on so that he can let his anxieties go and still his mind again. A soft smile spreads on his lips as the tension leaves him.
He has never sung this himself--and remembering his mother’s soft, high voice and hearing his own low, growling voice causes Vincent to grow a little emotional--but he makes sure his voice does not waver. This is for Eskil, after all, and Vincent is determined to sound as soothing as possible as he sings out the old Russian melody. He hopes it helps, even a little.
Once the room goes quiet again, and all that can be heard are the sounds of their breathing Eskil moves up to press his forehead against Vincent’s, murmuring a; “Thank you,” before pressing his lips against the Russian’s in a kiss filled with gratitude.
Vincent kisses back, a hand moving to cup Eskil’s cheek, holding him close. He feels like crying, suddenly missing a life he’d always hated, but...no. He has someone to be strong for, now.
“You,” he whispers, “are wonderful, Vincent.” Eskil dare not speak louder for fear of crushing this fragile moment of peace, but he smiles.
The Russian swallows hard, smiling. “T-Told you I’d sing, didn’t I?” he says, stroking his thumb across Eskil’s cheek. “Thank you for listening.”
“You did,” he agrees, “and I think that this time it is I who should thank you, or at least I should also thank you. You helped.”
“Any time…” he smiles, pressing another kiss to Esse’s lips, finally feeling as if he useful.
Eskil returns to resting against Vincent’s chest again, one hand slowly curling and uncurling in that fur of his. “It’s... it’s been a long day with quite a few revelations. Do you think we should try and sleep?”
“Definitely…” Vincent says, with a little sigh, “I think I’ll at least sleep well, with you curled up against me like this, playing with my fuzz…”
“It’s so soft...” Eskil says with a small and tired albeit happy grin. “And I think I’ll sleep well, knowing I’m going to wake up next to you.”
“Beautiful young darling…” Vincent murmurs, already yawning, one hand lazily stroking through Eskil’s hair.
“My singing bear,” Eskil mumbles back as Vincent’s yawns are contagious, hand slowing where it lies.
“So sweet...so gentle…” Vincent mutters, his fingers slowing too, choosing just to rest in Eskil’s hair. Vincent closes his eyes, and lets out a gentle snore.
“Goodnight, Vincent,” Eskil whispers as he hears the other man doze off - and he himself isn’t far behind, joining the Russian in sleep.
