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[Automatically, because he has lived in Lunatia for months but has still never been to a place more adventurous than the dive bar Fenris once took him to:]

There are "leather bars"?

[It can only be... indecent to the core... Ahem. Well, anyway.]

If— if living in the moment is what suits you both, then it seems like the correct thing to do.

[Lorenz can't relate; the closest he gets to living in the moment is living with an itinerary for only the next week instead of a 5-year plan. Still: if it works, more power to them... He's very much in support of not dwelling on things that cannot- or should not- be changed.]

[His mouth twitches, but mercifully, he doesn't look up.]

They tie people up. It's a performance. As I understand it, participation is optional, but encouraged. Isabela is . . . enthusiastic, when it comes to sex and kinks.

I'll take you one evening, if you would like to see.

[He really will. Not because leather bars are, like, his Thing, but because sometimes it's amusing to gently poke at Lorenz's prim-and-proper upbringing. Love you, babe.]

To watch people be tied up?

[Chase your bliss, kinky strangers, but even without the candy coating of prim and proper, Lorenz doesn't see the appeal in watching a bunch of strangers do their thing. It's a whole new world and he is but a tourist. Sort of.]

I had a fine time when we went to your tavern, but I don't believe leather suits me.

As you'd like.

[He's still smiling faintly, though it's less out of amusement and more out of simple pleasure.]

What does suit you, if anything?

[It's not that their bedroom activities have been lacking, but he's also interested. And there's nothing wrong with discussing such things on occasion.]

Well, I've always enjoyed the weeks when you have fangs. And when you don't, incidentally.

[Bite him literally any time, he's all for it. He shifts to lean up on his elbow, thinking; he has no mental list on hand, but let's see...]

I suppose these must sound tame, in comparison... Perhaps not leather, but certain fine clothing is rather irresistible. I have been wondering as of late, as well, if I could lift you up-- and for how long.

[So great job getting stabbed in the stomach, like, today, but maybe in a week!]

You could try now, [Fenris offers, showing a worrying lack of self-preservation. But honestly, it's not as though picking him up entails a whole lot of acrobatics on his part.

And they'll come back to that in a moment, but:]

Tame doesn't equate dull. I've seen several things; that doesn't necessarily mean they're automatically better.

[It's not as if Lorenz sounds as though he's worried, but still. It's good to say so, just in case.]

[Fenris, darling... Lorenz raises an eyebrow.]

First of all, you are injured. I shouldn't encourage your pursuit of strenuous activity while you're recovering. How irresponsible of me.

[So there, stay in this bed and rest. And there is no second of all, actually, because Fenris immediately offering to get manhandled around the room is a clear enough demonstration of interest in Lorenz's Tame Ideas (tm). He's got it, message received.]

Perhaps later, if you're feeling especially exhausted before dinner. I'll help you to the table.

[This is rude as hell? He frowns up at him, more petulant than truly put out.]

I have been injured in far worse capacity and continued to do whatever I pleased. And given you are familiar with injuries, you have little excuse to deny me this.

[JUST! SAYING! but he's settling back down, it's such a hardship to snuggle back in . . . hm, and he buries his face in the crook of his neck for a moment, brushing his lips lightly against his skin.]

When you say certain kinds of clothing . . . do you mean the suit and the like?

That is not what my basic first aid is for, Fenris.

[Babe! Please! Lorenz tsks at him as he curls back in again, so very scolding at the same time he reaches around to run his fingers through Fenris' hair. So scolding. This is punishment.]

But yes, like that. You're quite lovely in anything, but the suit in particular... [Hell Yes. Also,] You can borrow one of my shirts while you're injured.

[And pretty much forever, but who's counting.]

Oh, I can, can I?

[How generous, but he also adores the thought. They've been together long enough he knows precisely which shirts he's going to steal, too. He has an itemized list.

But ah, softer:]

I would like that a great deal.

[It seems important to say, somehow. Like Lorenz might not know, or-- no, it's not that. It's that he wants him to know. Fenris has never once had a relationship like this, and if the week of mind-melding has taught him anything, it's that there's an importance to declaring what he truly feels.]

Mm. Am I allowed to rise and pick out one, or will you forbid that as well?

[Hmm, see, letting him get up does mean Lorenz gets to watch him traipse around in his shirt, which is delightful, but it also means letting him get up. It takes him another moment to enjoy Fenris pressed close, his fingers in his hair, before he hums and pulls back enough for him to get up. Yes, yes, alright.]

Do try not to pull the stitches too much. And hurry back.

[He's full of tender feelings and he wants to cuddle, so please, indulge them both with a good choice of shirt and come back here ASAP.]

Mm, yes, all right . . .

[Lorenz is slow to release him, and so too is Fenris slow to rise, sitting up languidly, taking his time standing. It really is in part for his stitches, but it's also because he just plain enjoys being pressed up against him.

Anyway. He's equally languid in how he shimmies off his trousers (jeans, an incredibly comfortable invention that he enjoys, never let it be said Fenris hated all of Prisma). He still doesn't wear underwear, but it's not as if Lorenz hasn't seen every inch of him by now. But ah, shirts . . . he goes for the plainest one available, a silk button-up that's a size too big for him.

It hangs off him in the best way, collar sliding to one side, the hem hitting mid-thigh. He might fuss about Lorenz's height on other days, but he's particularly grateful for it tonight. He stands there for just a moment, offering Lorenz a view, before coming back to bed.]

[Lorenz sits up only halfway, leaning on his elbows again to watch Fenris go pick out a shirt. Honestly, thank the Goddess that wearing Lorenz's shirt comes hand in hand with not wearing any pants, that's definitely the ideal look. Lorenz hums his approval, nodding as his gaze drifts from bare shoulder to just-barely-exposed thighs down the rest of his legs, hmm, yes—]

Breathtaking as always, just as I suspected. Come here—

[He reaches for him as soon as he's close enough, mindful of the stitches but eager to pull Fenris back down and halfway on top of himself, fingers trailing down immediately to fiddle with the hem of the shirt. This lovely silk is going to be so very wrinkled, but it's worth it for this.]

I'm not sure anything of yours would fit me, [and it wouldn't not-fit in a fun and sexy way, either. Buuut.] What would you have me wear, if you could choose?

[Oh, that's a lovely question to contemplate, and one Fenris thinks on as he gets comfortable. He ends up straddling Lorenz's hips, settling atop him with a little sigh, pleased to arch his back and feel the way Lorenz's fingers brush gently against his thighs.]

A good question.

[he kisses his cheek, his jawline, over his pulse . . . hm.]

My leather trousers, to begin with. You would fill them out particularly well. And I would see you in my armor, but also yours: you are magnificent when we spar, and I would enjoy seeing that taken further.

[Delightful as it is to have Fenris all but crawl over him, Lorenz still murmurs vaguely for him to be careful, please, mind the injury, even as he rests his hands against the backs of Fenris' thighs. Shirt wrinkling begins right about now, fingers idly slipping beneath the silk.

That said, the leather trousers--]

I'm doubly not sure those would fit. [He's tall? He's mostly leg by composition? Where would he put the stirrups.] And you're quite bold to request sparring in armor the same day of your mishap in the park.

[babe....]

Once your leather is cleaned I will try, but I cannot promise it will be as enticing as you imagine.

My leggings, then, if you are going to insist on reality in this daydream.

[They still won't fit his long legs, but frankly, nothing of Fenris' will. And there are worse things than Lorenz walking around in a garment that leaves nothing to the imagination.]

Would you prefer I requested sparring without armor?

I would prefer you requested staying in bed and recuperating from your injury, my dear. Not that I am opposed to motivating you to stay in bed, of course, but...

[Like he's doing right now, specifically. His fear that Fenris' life is in danger from said injury has faded, yes, he knows an injury like this will heal just fine— but he's heard one too many "I've brushed off worse"-type comments to ignore. Just... rest, for once.

But all that aside,] Even a daydream has a right to be comfortable, for the record. You're proving that as we speak.

[His very own daydream-turned-real... remind him to write that down later.]

I-- ah.

[Someday he'll get used to the casual way Lorenz reveals things like that, but for now, he takes it in stride. Settles down a little more, resting his weight more fully atop Lorenz, one hand reaching for his so he can lace their fingers together.]

You call me that more and more these days. Darling or my dear.

[It's not an objection. Just a statement, really, an observation that he's pleased by.]

I enjoy it. But it's new to me, to hear such things.

[Hm— very sweet, Lorenz thinks, and tilts his head to kiss him on the cheek. He knows full well how much more difficult it is, comparatively, for Fenris to be open with his affection, and so each little I-enjoy-it and yes-I-would-like-that is good to hear.

Also, it's cute.]

I'm glad you enjoy it. I rather enjoy making you happy, so— how fortuitous!

[Hmm! Very good, very excellent, but his thoughts circle back to something said earlier that is not quite domestic bliss, and so he asks more softly:] Has it- hmm. Does it ever worsen considerably? The effects of the moon?

[They've spent more than a few moon cycles together and even griped about them plenty, but Lorenz is aware that his own "blessing" is, ah, the simple one? The easy one? And as this is the first time Fenris has come home hurt with Sanguis as explanation, maybe it's time to talk about it again.]

[There's a little pause, because he has to order his thoughts, but:]

It's difficult, sometimes, to distinguish what it is that Sanguis brings and what my own inclinations are. For example: I do enjoy sparring, especially when I am challenged. And it's rare I am challenged.

[That's not even braggy, he's just that good at fighting. You kind of have to be in order to be a bodyguard.]

Similarly, I find mages dangerous, and have a--

[Natural wariness, he was going to say, and that isn't wrong, but it's not the whole truth. He shakes his head, dismissing that thought.]

All my emotions are amplified. What is normally competitiveness deepened tonight to fury. It's a miracle neither of us injured the other more seriously; we fought as though we meant it. Or at least: I did. Because, when she revealed she was a mage, what might normally be surprise and wariness became terror.

[Which is mildly embarrassing to admit. Certainly not something he's proud of. Then again: it's rare he'll look Lorenz in the eye when they talk like this-- not out of shame, but adherence to years of training under Danarius-- so perhaps he won't notice.]

It doesn't amplify all my emotions. But the worst ones, perhaps. Even when it comes to you, I . . . my possessiveness of you increases exponentially. Not my-- my affection, but my need to keep you close, lest someone else come too near.

[And he hates that, he really does. He hasn't acted on it yet, but the fact he has the urge at all is stomach-churning.]

If you are near, it ought to be because it is what you wish. Not because I scared off others, or kept you in a cage to be mine.

Edited 2020-07-19 21:00 (UTC)

[So Sanguis is a headache; Lorenz had figured as much, but still, it's a lot to unpack. But first--]

I would tell you if your behavior became objectionable.

[A simple truth, and for both their sake. He wouldn't appreciate the gesture and Fenris would appreciate being set straight, he assumes, before doing something he'd later regret. There's an unspoken assurance there, that while Lorenz does love him very much, he isn't the sort of person to let his feelings excuse unwanted behavior. Quite the opposite, actually.

So, then. The rest... hmm.]

Well, a simple solution is beyond me, I'm afraid. Perhaps if you were to record your feelings, or found some other method to remind yourself under dire circumstances...

[He frowns, a touch frustrated; Fenris isn't really asking for advice and the moons' influence isn't really avoidable, but his first instinct is to at least try and think of some way to curtail the worst of it besides staying home for half the month, every month. Maybe a mnemonic device...!!

He'll workshop it. After a moment he lifts a hand to touch Fenris' face, thumb smoothing over his cheek.]

I am here because I wish it. [It's as good a time as any to say it outright.] And if I can ease even an ounce of this stress, I will gladly do it.

[The assurance is worth a great deal. It's not that he ever thought Lorenz felt pressured somehow, but . . . mm. Even the presence of such an ugly instinct within him is enough to make him uneasy.]

You do already.

[He tips his head, pushing against his hand.]

Do you know that? How much easier it is when you're around?

I had a hunch.

[After last week, anyway— they'd shared enough sentiment, and he only needed to quite literally feel Fenris calm down thanks to his touch to understand.]

Being with you is a gift, Fenris. To be able to care for you is... [Well, something saccharine, but he trails off with a smile. Fenris has experienced his feelings in kind, so it isn't hard to guess.]

If ever you find yourself struggling, simply picture the face I make when you put feet on the table and you will surely recover.

[The face of fussy disapproval; this is only kind of a joke.]

I wouldn't dare. Speaking of terror-inducing . . .

[Which is a joke, obviously, and also an easy thing for him to say as he snuggles in closer, avoiding Lorenz's eye.]

Being with you is a gift.

[An echo, but also a confirmation. He murmurs it softly, quietly, because it's just for Lorenz's ears.]

Being with you is . . . is easy. Easier than anything. Easy to just be, no matter what else is happening, or what moons are influencing either of our behavior. I-- even at our worst, Lorenz, even when we fight, I find it easy to simply be with you.

And that is a boon in my life that I cherish.

[Lorenz chuckles, shifting to run his fingers through Fenris' hair. The soft words are a gift unto themselves, even as Lorenz already knows Fenris cares for him as much as he does. He knows that, and he is very fond of love languages beyond stating it outright, indeed, but he is also a poet— romantic professions of this kind are just as treasured as the warm weight of Fenris against him and the low rumble of his voice.

It's enough, he thinks; to be together anywhere would be enough, and this tiny apartment (with needy dog now yapping outside the bedroom door) is only a bonus. So--]

Fenris... I feel the same, and so— I have a question. [A beat, ahem.] Would you like to live here? You already do, more or less... I believe this space is yours as much as it's mine.

[So ultimately it's a purely symbolic gesture, or the agreement to say "ours" instead of "yours" all the time. That kind of gesture.]

What do you think?

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