Unraveling - for rosepaean

[unwisely]

Will's mind was a dizzying mess, reeling madly between silent incoherent panic and the shaky formations of a plan of action. Plans weren't exactly his strongest skillset, but he had to do something. Her showing up the way she had, after so long, he realized he'd been clinging to denial, that his running away act would actually work, that he could ignore and pretend away that lingering presence in his mind.

That she wouldn't come looking for him. That she wouldn't find him. That her gaze would never land on Kris.

That had been the worst of it, the part that had shaken Willow to the very heart of him, the moment that her eyes had fixed on Kristophe, and he'd been able to do anything but stand there and stew in his own panic. Being close to anyone was dangerous, for that person. Will could risk many things in life without batting an eye, but he could not risk Kris being hurt because of him. How could he live with himself if the Eladrin suffered for no other reason than he'd been kind enough to allow the bard close, to be his friend and welcome him despite all the very compelling reasons not to. Despite the darkness in him, the mistakes he'd made.

He couldn't repay that with putting him in danger. He couldn't live with himself for being a magnet for that kind of trouble to the man he was so desperately, irrevocably, helplessly in love with. Not that he'd admitted it. Not that he could, now.

But he did want Kris to understand, at least a little, to know the reasons that Willow had to run again. He owed him that much, didn't he?

More than that. Maybe he needed the cleric to really understand who he really was, the depth and horror of his mistakes. No, of his choices. He'd chosen this path and walked it, even if he hadn't known, even if he'd never even had reason to guess that the archfey he thought he was dealing with was really a goddess of strife and discord. Eris. Even now that realization made him feel sick to his stomach.

Kris deserved to know, and Will would tell him.

When they made it back to the hotel, he slipped off to arrange a room for just the two of them, rather than the usual group suite they usually shared with their motley crew of friends and fellow adventurers. They needed privacy for this.

The high elf had managed to summon back up his usual casually playful demeanor at the end of their battle with the fiends, and it had made his heart ache to see the relief on Kris's face when he'd slipped into those old habits, when he'd caught the cleric up in his new magical rope toy. But that fear still lingered in him, visible just at frayed edges of who he was as a person. He approached the Eladrin with the key to their room for the night in his hand. "We've got some things to talk about, Sugar. I thought privacy might do us some good. That okay with you?"

Comments

[rosepaean]

The relief that Kris had felt had been absolute; never had he felt so much dislike for an entire being as he did to the woman who was Willow's patron. It was not jealousy-- but he'd seen the way that Willow had become a creature filled with fear and trepidation when she'd entered; he was a cleric and he could tell when revulsion had become absolute. No, he was angry because her power on Willow had turned the high elf into something that-- well it was like watching a flower bloom.

Wilt.

He'd gone in to the fight with the need to protect the High Elf, even before than he did not want to leave the other man's side. His hand on Will's back, as many casual and supportive touches as he could muster, to let Willow know that he was here and that he would not leave him. Even afterwards he'd searched Willow for any sign of hurt or harm and had been relieved when the other man had been seemingly unharmed.

Except for those eyes; his heart had almost frozen until Will made a joke about rope bondage and then he realized that his precious love wa alright, a melting of his heart into something relieved.. and the drop of a kiss to that forehead because he was a coward and could do nothing else, even though he'd wanted to wrap the elf in his arms and kiss him senseless. He did not, because he hadn't wanted to ruin anything.

But as Willow procured a separate key for them and suddenly Kris felt.. what was this? It felt like that coldness that had wanted to pervade him and then Willow's voice that was smooth like honey, there was a layer of nuance there that had not been there before but what could he do? At this point, Kris knew that he was making guesses about what this could be and so he nodded and put on a smile.

"Oh I'm sure they can stand to be without us for a single night." he said this casually, trying to make it so that the subtle frisson of uncertainty was not noticeable upon the waves of his voice.

[unwisely]

"I don't know. Not sure my heart would take it well, spending the night without you..." Playful, but there was a wistfulness woven through the words, as if there was an undeniable truth to it. A truth and a dread for every night after this one, given that the bard's current plan was to leave, to let his feet find the road and run once more. He'd only ever stopped running in the first place because he'd fallen into Kristophe's eyes and never recovered his footing. Gods help him, he hadn't wanted to. He still didn't want to.

Summoning a smile, he inclined his head. "I'll grab my things and move 'em over and meet you there?" Grabbing his things together was a good an excuse as any for packing them up, so that he'd be ready to slip away. What other choice did he have? She already owned Will's soul, tattered dark little thing that it was. He would not let her have his heart, and that heart had found itself incarnated in the form of the Eladrin cleric.

He made short work of tossing his belongings into his pack -- though really what did he have? His lute, his pack, a few journals of half-written songs (pages filled with dried, pressed flowers that had found their way into his possession from Kris.) Nothing else. He'd always traveled light. Things had never really been important to Willow. He collected memories and stories, songs and experiences. The heaveiest, most precious things he'd carry with him was the sound of Kris's voice in the morning when he was still groggy from his trance, the scent of fresh baked sugar cookies and those eyes. Those beautiful, impossibly gentle eyes.

He'd wait for Kris in their room for the night. Shedding the trappings of the day, weapons and armor and everything tucked carefully ready to be redonned when needed, he was left in a pair of soft trousers and a shirt -- though the latter was unbuttoned and opened because hells even with the blissfully cooled air of the hotel, this place was warm.

[rosepaean]

His own things had been gathered though he had been a bit longer, he had wounds to tend and other such things, in addition to his own personal belongings to gather-- but nevertheless his mind was circling and it was nearly impossible for him to cause them to land, because he was obsessing over what they could possibly have to discuss.

But finally he made it to the room, his pack was then laid down by the door and there was Will standing there, impossibly lovely framed by firelight, and alive. That at the very least calmed him, the sight of him and so once inside he shrugged off his own overcoat and then it was placed over a chair, revealing his own sleeveless linen shirt that seemed to cling to his form.

Never let it be said that clerics were only one-trick ponies, they could heal and they could also be capable of such devastating magic, such as Guiding Bolt, which he'd managed to seamlessly time in with Will's own spells. And thus, when he walked in-- he made a beeline to the couch to perch upon it.

Why did he read a finality to this moment, this had not been confirmed. Willow had not even said anything and yet he was reading into it, and he did not want to read into it, he wanted to believe that perhaps that this was something else, something more-- perhaps a relief that they had survived; they had survived hadn't they?

Something that could've easily toppled them, they had toppled. Such was the force of their nature.

[unwisely]

Will turned around and even if there was a world of troubles weighing on his mind, the sight of Kristophe brought a smile over his face, softening sharp features and suffusing him with warmth that matched the fire in his hair. It had been a hell of a day, and they were lucky to be alive. There had been that terrible moment where something had taken his mind and he'd come to his senses after attacking Kris, and that had been jarring too. Thank gods he had missed, or he would never have forgiven himself.

Now though, as Kris half disrobed in the firelight, Willow couldn't help but let his gaze linger, as if he were taking a long last look. What a terrible, dramatic thought. But he really was convinced that leaving was better for everyone. Just, before the leaving came the explanation. He had to share what he'd learned today, so that Kris would understand, would know that Willow didn't want to leave his side, would give anything for another option.

He just didn't have any.

Once the cleric had seated himself on the couch, Will made his way over as well, hesitating half a moment before settling in and draping his legs over Kris's lap. It was normal and comforting, and selfish as it might be, he needed the comfort right now. He took a breath. Another. They'd survived the day, and he would cling to that bit of reassurance. "I never wanted you to meet her. I never wanted her to even know you existed."

But here they were.

[rosepaean]

How many times had they sat here on couches quite similar, both within this party and outside of it. It was a familiar sight to anyone who knew the two of them, the way that they would gravitate toward each other as if they were two planets orbiting-- Kris' hand resting on his knee and occasionally giving a stroke-- gestures that meant so much underneath the surface even if words never gave them the light of day.

Right now, Kris' hand moved to rest against that knee and he angled himself in a way so that he could look at Willow's profile, and then those words came and they sounded so quietly melancholy. Willow Harper may have been dramatic, but this was a different note to the melody and it made his heart ache terribly. "I do not like her." Kris said this simply, "I thought perhaps I could but I saw how her commands weighed on you." he had to say this carefully, "I never cared about your past, Willow-- but what I do care is how it makes you feel-- and watching you wilt, you were like a flower with no water, Will."

[unwisely]

There was something so comfortingly, achingly familiar about the weight and warmth of that hand at his knee, of Kris close and real and unharmed. And that was the thing, wasn't it? If he knew Kris was safe, then he could endure whatever came next, even if it meant never seeing the cleric again.

"You should care about my past. You really should. I chose it. I can list off the excuses, that I was young and stupid and desperate for someone to think I was worth something. I couldn't resist the idea of having some power to do something for the first time in my life. But whatever the reasons, I signed my soul over to her. Even I should've known better. I did terrible things for her, Sugar. And I was good at those terrible things. They were easy."

He was not a good man, but he was trying to be better. "I was fooling myself to think I could get away from her, could just pretend none of it happened. She found me. She never really lost me. And worst of all she found you. I will not let her hurt you."

Hesitating only a moment he reached his hand to settle atop the one of Kris's at his knee. "She's not what I thought she was. Milo's god recognized her, gave him a hint. I know who she is now. It's worse than I thought. I'm so much stupider than I thought."

[rosepaean]

It was amazing how touch was so very important to the two of them. Contact, it was what kept them moored to their humanity, it was the way that he could gather solace from knowing that his most important person existed in this world. Would he not consider the same thing that right now even now Willow was considering? If it kept the other man safe, but it never worked the other way did it?

One would never let the other blithely go into danger alone.

He listened to Willow patiently and did not interrupt the redhead, his fingers stroking softly while he identified the importance of those words, though his eyes softened both in sadness but also in empathy. "You did those terrible things but I have seen the good in you, Willow. I have heard your music, full of life and hope-- how can I believe you are just capable of just the evil?"

Go on, Will. Tell your cleric your intentions, he will likely protest; he will protest severely. "Who is she, Cinnamon?" he speaks that word that he'd spoken to him so many times in the past. "Knowledge is power."

[unwisely]

Willow ached at Kris saying those words like he meant them. He really did believe that the cleric saw good in him, more than he was able to see in himself. It always took him off-guard to see how sincerely Kris meant those things, believed in him.

It made the idea of leaving even harder. And even more important.

"You're the reason I believe there might be some hope for me yet, you know." That Kris had that faith in him, Will couldn't bear the thought of letting him down. He'd be a better man for the cleric.

That familiar endearment had him feeling flushed, warm from the inside out. But that warmth faded quickly as he steeled himself to answer the question. "Not an archfey. Not a fey at all. A goddess. Eris."

[rosepaean]

"There is hope for you and I believe in you." he said this carefully as he watched Will, the way that the gaze both softened and steeled, the fact that he could see the thoughts turning through the head even if he did not know the precise weight nor shape of them-- and gods, he wish he knew right here and now. He wanted to know every single thought that came from the Bardlock.

"A goddess--" he racked his mind for knowledge of Eris, he knew mythos quite well though he paied a little bit at the enormity of it. "-- a goddess singlehandedly responsible for so many squabbles between both gods and men." he said it hushed; it was hushed because he knew that it was often times bad luck to invoke the name of a god.

He pressed a fingertip to Will's lips. "Not too loudly, we should have a codeword for her-- for further discussion." as if Will would be staying with him, as if there was time for them to formulate a plan going further.

[unwisely]

The only thing Willow wanted to do, truly and sincerely wanted to do, was wrap his arms around Kris and bury himself in the cleric's arms. He wanted to whisper all the secrets he'd been holding back, admit that he loved him, that he was so helplessly in love with him, and that was why all this mattered so much, why making sure Kris could be safe and happy -- even if it was without him -- was the most important thing.

Instead he nodded. "A dangerous goddess, one who won't hesitate to do anything to accomplish what she--" He cut off as that finger pressed to his lips. His eyes went wide for a moment. A codeword. That was smart. But it didn't matter, did it? Will's expression softened, and he finally looked away from Kris, as if he couldn't bear to hold the cleric's gaze as he spoke his next words. He lifted a hand to wrap around the cleric's, draw that finger away from his lips.

"We don't need a codeword, Sugar. You never have to say her name or think of her again. I'm not letting her anywhere near you. I can't chance it. I have to go, Kris. I have to get far away. I can't risk drawing her attention in your direction. I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you because of me."

[rosepaean]

And there it was.

The shoe had dropped and left him with the force of Will's decision; and it was a decision, and not one that Kristophe Fallon liked, the way that Kris' fingertip was drawn away from lips, the bittersweet tang of being confronted with Will's plans while he felt that chill engulf his body. He was faced with the force of his own reactions; to the thought of Will attempting to go somewhere that he could not follow.

For all that Kris was laid-back, suddenly he found himself absolutely objecting to this entire plan. "I cannot stop you from leaving, but what I can do is go with you." Kris said this simply, there was a gritted steel to his voice that had previous-to not been present in his voice.

He remembered Thiero leaving him, leaving to fight wars-- and he had never come back. The thing with people leaving was that he was faced with the fact that he had to just utterly accept the leaving, stay at home as if he was some damsel to be protected. He was inviting this discussion, but this was a fine line between discussion and an argument.

Just as likely Will's Goddess wanted.

[unwisely]

Will did not remember ever hearing that tone in Kris's voice, steeled and hard and so hard to argue with. Because Willow was, at his heart, a selfish man, and he didn't want to go, not without Kristophe. He wanted nothing more than to stay with the cleric. Forever if he were allowed, to live in the warmth and the light of his presence, to work to be the better man that Kris made him feel like he could be.

He shook his head, not trusting his voice. There was a shimmer to green eyes, the start of tears he hated himself for crying. This wasn't about him. It was about Kris.

"You aren't listening. She's seen you. I tipped my hand and she knows what you mean to me. I was stupid. Again. Being near me puts you in danger. Because of me."

[rosepaean]

The Goddess Persephone had dual sides to her, there was the goddess of Springtime Kore, the one who tended to the flowers and greenery of the earth, who oversaw the nymphs and dryads, who gathered flowers in offering to her mother Demeter. Then there was Persephone, the consort to the King of the Dead, who had partook of the six seeds that would send her to live with Hades, her beloved.

A Queen who had chosen that fate because she could not bear to be fully parted from her husband.

This was whom Kris channeled in this moment, the intensity of his gaze as he looked right at Willow, into those eyes, he heard the accusation that he was not listening. But he'd listened, he'd seen far too much about Will's Patron, and he could not countenance being parted from him, not being able to protect him. "You do not have the right to decide what is best for me, Willow Harper." he was not backing down from this even as he took that hand and he squeezed it.

"Run, run away from me because you want to protect me but I will follow because I will not lose you like I did my late-husband." likely in a war that had been fought because of Eris' intervention, He did not bring up this nameless man very often, but there was a ring that Kris did keep on himself via a chain around his neck. "You can make your decisions, but do not think for a second Will that I am not capable of mine own."

[unwisely]

Will's eyes went wide as Kris spoke, at those intense eyes and the way each word seemed to fix on him like it was pinning him syllable by syllable to the place where he sat. He opened his mouth to start to argue, but shut it again when Kris mentioned his late husband. He knew the pain Kris carried from that loss, and the last thing Will wanted to be was any further burden, any further pain.

"And what am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to do if something happens to you? Because of me?" How could he possibly be expected to survive that? There were certain blows that were killing blows, and they always would be.

Still he didn't pull his hand away, even as he frowned, looking away as if he couldn't hold that gaze any longer. "My heart couldn't take it, Kris. You deserve to be happy, to be safe and free. How can you be any of those things with me around?"

[rosepaean]

And Kris Fallon would answer that question with one of his own. "And how am I supposed to go on without knowing if you are safe? I think that it is unreasonable for you to expect me to be okay with that after the bonds we have forged together, the traveling that we have done." he could see that Will was choosing not to look at him, "I think we are at an impasse as it were." he drew his hand away them, his fingers slipping from Will's; he could feel something tingle within him and he had to shift to hold his own face within the palm of his hand.

It was almost as if the force of this was attempting to send him into Winter Mode, the inevitability of it and the sheer anguish he felt from imagining something happening to Will where he could not be there. "I am not a damsel to be protected Will, I am not weak and I can take care of myself, but my own heart could not take it if anything were to happen to you."

And honestly, Kris felt like he would know.

Just as he had known that Thiero had died even before he had been sent word from across the frontlines; it had been in the way that autumn had seized him in it's form of contemplation-- while the winds of winter beat against the door but did not quite step inside. "So what do we do? Do you just want me to calmly accept this, to not fight it? What did you expect I would do, Willow Harper?"

[unwisely]

A soft, distressed sound slipped free before Will could stop himself as Kris drew his hand away. It hurts. All of this hurt, and he had known it would. This wasn't what he wanted. None of it was. But he'd been selfish for too much of his life, hadn't he?

"I know. I know you're strong, you're capable. I know you're so much more than I could ever hope to deserve."

These words danced too close to a line he had told himself he would never cross, to admitting what the Eladrin meant to him fully, more than a friend, more than anything or anyone else ever had. He could hear the pain in Kris's voice too, and the idea of hurting him was an anathema, but wouldn't it be better for a small pain now? So long as Kris's heart kept beating.

"I don't know. Maybe I'm being selfish. I'm good at that. But I can't..." He can't bear to consider this world without Kristophe in it. His voice was nearly trembling as he fought back the lump of tears. "I can't live in a world where the man I love is lost because of me." A world without the cleric in it would not be a world worth existing in, and Willow was certain he'd tear it all to the ground around him in the aftermath. He hadn't exactly realized what he'd just admitted, too swept up in his own emotion.

"You can hate me, if you want. If it'll help."

[rosepaean]

The thing was that Kristophe was highly perceptive.

His passive perception was high enough that he noticed things, even within the depths of his own distress at the thought of losing Will was that same anathema. But he focused on his own feelings and did not think that they were returned-- he knew that he loved Will else he would not fight with all the fervor of world's unmaking, but then he heard it-- a simple 'the man that I love' which caused him to really look at Will.

"Say what you just said again."

He whispered, his voice suddenly very quiet and soft; a tremble much like a snowflake falling upon a flower petal. It was not a demand, but it was a plea in a voice far softer as if something about those words and what he'd just heard could be explained. Perhaps Kris had heard something different and he was only hearing what he wanted to hear.

The Eladrin felt wild now, little motes of static electricity underneath his skin and his eyes both soft and sharp in one fell swoop.

[unwisely]

Will was not perceptive, too easily swept up, too easily distracted. And too easily lost inside the tangles of his own emotions. It had never even crossed his mind that his feelings might be returned. It still hadn't.

Hell, it took that trembling whisper for him to even stop and realize what he'd actually said. For a moment he forgot how to manage simple matters like breathing in favor of lifting his gaze to the cleric once more, staring like he'd been caught in some unforgivable crime. There would no atoning for this, for the damage he was doing.

Still, he met Kris's gaze with his own once more, quiet for once in his life and subtly shaking. "Which part? The part where I can't bear to be the reason something happens to you, can't survive the thought of losing you because I love you so much it terrifies me? Because I can't, Kris. And she knows. She saw the way I look at you."

[rosepaean]

Fuck.

Kris saw the desperation, quiet and afraid in those eyes. Heard the impassioned solemnity in that voice-- and gods, his heart ached because he knew that Will loved him, it was all so very clear; and yet he did not know how to suitably address it, these feelings welling up deep inside him. But by gods, he would try, he must try even as his body trembled-- his words trembled with so much feeling.

"It is too late for us, Will. She knows now, she is a goddess-- she can use me as leverage, she will use me as leverage regardless of if you leave or not. Every time you make a misstep, she will use me to keep you in line, every time she thinks that it would suit her purpose, she will do so." and then he shifted; it was a smooth movement and holding aloft far more grace than he thought he had within him.

Soon he was between those thighs, shifting until he was kneeling between his half-elf's thigh, and then ever closer so that he could cup that cheek with the warmth of his palm, feeling the high colour there of their argument, layered by the warmth of feeling. "I love you, Willow Harper-- and I would follow you to hell--"

And then before Willow could speak anything more, Kris' mouth was on Will's in a kiss; it was not a gentle first kiss, it was the firm press of mouth; it was the subtle desperation of a lover who wanted to keep his heart with him, knowing that it was in danger of being threatened. It was presses of flesh as he nibbled at lips, as he cherished the mere feeling of Willow's lips, as if that could convince the other man to take him wherever he went.

Or even better yet, stay--

[unwisely]

A sob caught in his throat, choking the next breath that he tried to take. Will was not one for tears, but as Kris spoke he could feel them rising, crowding out the space in his lungs where air should have been. It's too late for us. And for a moment he didn't know how to take those words, couldn't tell if they were rejection or a statement of a mutual fall -- and he wasn't sure which was worse, somehow. When it was the latter, when it was the very real truth that Eris already knew that although she might have a lien on his soul, that the Eladrin owned the entirety of his heart. Kris would always be in danger because of him, would be leverage.

Still when Kris said the words so plainly, that he loved him, Will did not know that one could feel supreme and utter elation and fear in the same instant of time. But apparently it was possible. Kris loved him. It really was too late for them.

He might have spoken if not for the lips on his, but there was no arguing with that kiss, and Will didn't want to argue either. He didn't need gentle, preferred the raw earnestness, reality, of this, and he found himself kissing back with a quiet but unmistakable desperation.

Another moment and his arms moved to wind around strong, broad shoulders. His lips were still on Kris's when he spoke. "I don't want to lose you. But I don't want to leave you either." The selfish, desperate truth.

[rosepaean]

Their private time was their own, and Kris' fingers slid through those locks of hair, getting a foothold in as he looked into those eyes and into the beauty of Will's soul, the earnestness of his entreaty that they were already so deep within each other. "If you leave, I will follow.. and it is not something that you can stop." then he leaned forward so that he could rest his forehead against Will's, his eyes closing as he shared breath with the high elf.

"You can stay here with myself and our friends and we can face these things together; you can chose not to be alone in this, you can choose love.. please choose me."

His voice was an entreaty as he settled, half on top of Will, half to the side but no matter they were together, chest to chest and forehead to forehead. "If I lost you, I would not know what to do with myself-- if we have to play her little game we can, but your presence has given my world meaning again.." he reached for Will's hand, placing it in the locks of turquoise that made up the Eladrin's exsquiste hues. "I was in Winter, Will-- you were what ushered me into Spring."

[unwisely]

If you leave, I will follow. Those words struck to the heart of him, sharp and true. The realization that Kris cared for him so much. No, loved him, the same way that Willow loved the Eladrin, hopelessly and deeply and beyond anything so paltry as reason or rationality.

Will could barely breathe for the way his chest ached. His own eyes fell shut as Kris leaned close, as the weight of the cleric came to rest on him, grounding him, comforting and warm and he knew just then that he was not a strong enough man to give this up. How could he? How could he do anything but tighten his arms around Kris when the other asked him to choose him.

He let his hand be guided into that vibrant, beautiful hair, sinking his fingers into strands of spring in all its verdant glory. "You're a hard man to argue with, Sugar." And Willow didn't want to argue. He didn't want to be the reason Kristophe was hurt, and in all his desperation to protect him, he was doing just that, wasn't he? His voice could only manage to rise to a whisper, and as he continued, his tone turned painfully earnest. "I choose you. I will always choose you."

How could he ever say no to that? How could he ever do anything else? This beautiful man had his heart, and Will would just have to find a way to keep him safe from the mistakes of his past and his patron while he was by Kris's side.

Where he belonged.

He tilted his chin up to catch Kris's lips with his own once more, soft and tender but silently pleading for more, for everything he had wanted for such a long time now.

[rosepaean]

The Eladrin had no idea how long he'd been hiding this from Will, the love that rose so strongly, that evidenced itself in peach tarts and umbrellas given in the hot sun to keep the High Elf from burning underneath the Juniper Springs sun. It came in moments where they had cuddled up next to each other, in the stirrings of something far deeper when Kris cast furtive glances at Will, wondering what it would feel like to have the other man pressed closely to him.

The joy in those eyes mid song and the way that the other man managed to be both sharply perceptive in certain ways and yet also boyishily naive in others. They were both dichotomies.. but also, they were in love.

Kristophe's mouth was this time caught by his love's and he sank down into it, both arms on either side of Willow as he parted his lips and then caught the other man in a full and deep kiss, settled there as they were. If they went down, it would be together, there could be no other way between them. And while Kris would not intervene directly, perhaps there was something that he could petition his own goddess for, perhaps protection for Will-- anything really. That could come in time, it need not be thought of now.

"Do not.." he said in between kisses, "Even think of.." another slow kiss while his palm cupped against jawline, "..of leaving me."

[unwisely]

Willow had been falling since the first night they met. He was certain of that. The moment that he'd set eyes on Kris, something in him had been caught. It wasn't love at first sight, but that was the moment the fall had begun. Something about that warm smile, the gentle strength, the everything about the cleric, had drawn him in like a moth to a flame, or maybe more like a butterfly to the most beautiful flower that had ever bloomed.

Will loved him. Gods he loved him more than he'd ever be able to put into verse or song, but he'd try. He'd been trying all this time. Every song, every note and every word had been for the Eladrin.

He let himself be swept up in that kiss, fingers curling more securely into that soft hair. Those lips were more intoxicating than he'd imagined, and oh had he imagined. Despite himself, despite everything, he smiled in between those admonitions. "Yessir... not going anywhere..." A moment to indulge once more in those kisses. "Not without you."

[rosepaean]

Curled as they were upon the couch, his mouth found Will's after the promise that he'd managed to wile from those lips-- honeyed promises that would keep this flower more than happy enough, his fingers found purchase in hair and then he was kissing Will as if he'd never kissed anyone before, and it had been long, it had been years since he'd kissed anyone. He was not one to enter into things lightly and when he'd met Will he'd been in mourning, then the feelings had crept in and made it so that he could never have countenanced being anything with anyone else.

But now he could have this, he could have Will's kisses and the sweet indolent push of their bodies together, and he took advantage of it-- nibbling against Will's lower lip, tongue swiping and teeth nibbling while he settled between those spread thighs there on that couch.

Too much time lost, and now time was not certain for them.

This moment was the only true guarantee that they had and he would make sure that he never took the bard for granted, would never treat Will as if he was something everyday; no-- the bard was magic and Kris would never stop telling him that in whatever time remained to them; though finally after a particularly breathless kiss, he said with all of that due respect. "Tell me if I am.. ah, if this is too fast?"

[unwisely]

Willow had secured them a room of their own for the night so they could have this talk in private. So that he could make his explanations and say his goodbyes without interruption, without anyone else overhearing. That plan had now changed and Will was appreciating the privacy of this room to themselves for entirely different reasons.

Tangled together on the couch, all he could see and feel and taste was Kris, and he'd never known anything better. He could almost forget those anxieties, forget the way his chest and stomach had filled with something cold as ice and heavy as led when his patron had appeared, when she'd turned her gaze to Kristophe. He could believe, in this moment, in these arms, that they would figure this out, somehow.

A breathless sound slipped from his lips as those kisses broke. Will blinked, eyes taking a moment to focus on that handsome face. He lets his fingers touch, tender and almost awestruck along Kris's cheek. "Not too fast, Blossom. I've been down bad for you for ages."

[rosepaean]

The edges of those eyes crinkled in pleasure, in the way that he tended to smile. This was an elf who would have laugh lines in his older age, the way that they manage to refract light upon his shimmering magenta eyes-- he allowed a chuckle which was husky in quality while he pressed another kiss to that mouth, as he made his own admittance.

"If you must know, I have loved you for a very long time as well.. I just did not want to, I was okay with being your friend if that was all I could receive from you." he'd not asked for anything more because he was shy when it came to his heart, because he did not want to run the possibility of causing the other person to feel pressure.

If it had not been for his sister, Thiero would've never known; and if it had not been for Will's patron-- Kris would likely have kept it inside for as long as possible. He slipped onto his side, though he tangled their legs together while he smoothed the palm of his hand up and down that chest. "You are beautiful, I have always been charmed by you.. any excuses you've given me to be closer, I am not strong enough to resist."

[unwisely]

Willow would do anything for those smiles, to see the way Kris's entire face warmed through with the expression. It was mesmerizing, the sort of breathtaking that was usually reserved for sunsets or other natural wonders. And wasn't that exactly what his Kris was? A natural wonder.

His natural wonder.

He shifted with Kris, settling in close against him, hand brushing along the cleric's cheek. "I thought that too, you know. That I was so lucky to have you in my life however I had you... I couldn't ask for more than that. But I wanted... I wanted everything of you. I'm a greedy man, Sugar. And now I've had a taste of you."

He'd never get enough. This addiction was for life.

[rosepaean]

"I do not want you to let me go, if it takes a kiss to keep you with me then I will give you kisses every single minute of the day if need be." and Kris meant that, all of his kisses for the rest of his life would be for the bard, and was he not even know raining kisses down upon that face. Anywhere that he could get them, against the tip of nose, mouth, forehead, cheek, chin-- even the fragile spot just underneath elven ear.

The part of an elf that was extra sensitive.

"We will find a way, Cinnamon.. we will find a way if we work together, but regardless of what I will be by your side." where he would stand with Will, be it in life or even death. No matter though he did not want his choice to be taken away like it had been in the past.

A taste, another taste. Fuck, Will could have every taste he damn well wanted. "We have this room for the rest of the evening, we should not waste it, you realize." and despite what awaited them, he would choose playfulness and he would choose love.

[unwisely]

"You've got me, Kris. I'm never letting you go now. I only wanted to leave to keep you from being hurt. Didn't realize that'd be the thing hurting you..." But he'd come around to that now. The way Kris had reacted, the confessions that they'd both made to one another, no he couldn't leave now. Whatever happened, it would happen with them side by side.

And it would happen with him standing between Eris and Kristophe. He wouldn't let her touch him. Whatever it took.

He was weak to Kris's lips, whether they were kissing him or speaking those sweet, hopeful words. "We'll find a way, Sugar." Will echoed in agreement before leaning in to indulge in those lips, in kissing him again and again.

A laugh bubbled up and slipped free and his hand drifted down from the cleric's cheek, down to his chest, fingers catching at the fabric and tugging. "It'd be a sin to waste the privacy," he purred. "Maybe we test out the bed..?"

[rosepaean]

Death would be an better option than to be left again, but he did not say that out loud for they had settled it and Willow was staying with him, perhaps despite both their better judgements, but if loving Willow and wanting him to stay with him was folly than he would be foolish all day long.

The simple movements put Kris back into awareness that Willow was a bard and had a charisma score that he was absolutely not proof against. He would be a willing simp for the other man, allow himself to be wrapped around those dexterity filled fingertips. The touch awakened something inside of him and then he leaned down to press a full-bodied kisses against Will's, something that was all reddened lips and the casual swipe of tongue.

Something sensual.

"Hmmm, I have not tested out a bed in quite some time, it's been a while-- but if you do not mind helping me dust off the rust?" his voice came out in a tease, though there was truth there too-- he'd lived a very celibate lifestyle even though by nature he was very sensual.

[unwisely]

Later, Will would likely have terrible ideas about handling this, but at the very least they would no longer involve any plans of going from Kris's side. It was undoubtedly folly, yes, but Willow had been a fool for far worse reasons than love.

And plans and thinking of anything but the cleric and how perfect it felt to be in those arms, that could wait. This moment, the only thing he wanted to think about was Kris. Hells, he didn't have much of a choice when the other man kissed him that way; every other thought fled from his mind, scattered and shattered into a million pieces. That unmistakable sensuality a side of Kris that he had never experienced before, though there had been hints of it in the Eladrin's overall nature.

"I... mm. Happy to help you practice as much as you need, baby." Not that Willow had been with anyone in some time either. He'd never had a relationship before, but he was charming enough that he had wooed his way into the bed of some pretty face or another as he wandered through life. That had all stopped when his path had crossed with Kris's, and suddenly casual flings didn't seem worth chasing when he could spend the night talking and laughing or even just existing in his presence.

His fingers helped themselves to unfastening Kris's buttons, deft and nimble enough that he did it while his gaze held the other man's.

[rosepaean]

Perhaps Will was not aware of how much that undid him-- the sensuality of buttons being attended to while the other bard held his gaze-- it was, he would imagine, how Persephone felt looking into the dark eyes of her Hades. That was also why Kris did not fault Will for who he was, because was not the God of the Dead have a bad reputation, and yet his Queen loved him anyways.

Just as Kris loved Will-- despite it all.

That breath further hitched as he slowly used his forearms to shift-- so that a bit of space could be allowed between them, until finally his tunic fell open, and then Kris leaned back in and nibbled at the lower lip, dancing his tongue against it-- until his tunic fell open to reveal golden bronzed flesh, slightly shimmery as if with iridescent dust of which now would get upon Will.

It was not as if they didn't normally share a bed (it was practical of course, easier to get a inn room with one bed, right) and that meant that there was a bit of glitter that would always be attached to Will. Then he cheated his mouth to attach to a jawline, to press a kiss to skin that he'd so desperately wanted to touch but now could.

He knew nothing of Will's preferences so he was using this time to explore gently, to nibble and bite where he would, gauging how it would go over by the width and breadth of Willow's groans.

[unwisely]

That tunic opened and Will was treated to exactly what he had been searching for. He'd seen Kris shirtless before, and he'd tried not to openly ogle at the time. Now though, his gaze finally dropped from those eyes to look at that newly bared skin, fingers helping themselves to exploring the broad plan of that chest, the faint shimmer of skin fascinating as the warmth beneath his fingertips.

If it was his fate to wind up covered in glitter, then he'd happily embrace it. He looked back to Kris's eyes, a flicker of a smile -- playful and wicked -- before those lips were at his jaw. His eyes fluttered before falling shut. He let his head fall to the side to bare his neck to that attention, a moan slipping from his lips.

His hands ran over his chest, around his sides to slip beneath the open tunic, to run up his back, needing to touch as much as he needed the next breath he took.

[rosepaean]

Was Kris going to make Willow feel loved and cherished? Absolutely--

If that was the price to get him to stay, then it was no steep price at all; loving Will came as naturally as breathing, as worshipping his own goddess. He would happily eat of the pomegranate seeds with his own lips and mouth, vowing to stay with his bardlock forever.

He shifted then, his foot coming up off the couch. With alacrity he leaned down and then he swept Willow up with casual strength, the other elf was lithesome and easily picked up. He then pressed a soft kiss against that brow. "Our bed awaits." a thump of nervous within his chest though he covered it up with a smile; they had been friends forever and this was-- well it was the natural conclusion.

"Tell me what you like-- I want to know what makes you shiver, your secret spots.. tell me your secrets so that I may infiltrate them."

[unwisely]

Willow was swept up into those arms before he even realized what was happening. His arms wound around the cleric's neck reflexively. A blush rose across his cheeks, lighting pale skin an obvious rosy pink, one that only darkened when those lips found his forehead.

What the hell, Kris. Will's heart tried to leap straight out of his chest at that show of pure, concentrated romance aimed at him. His breathing had quickened because yes, right. Their bed. They'd shared a bed before, but they'd never shared a bed quite like this. But oh it felt natural too, right, even as that nervous excitement bubbled up in Will and took the form of a swarm of butterflies in his stomach.

Those words though, they set a shiver straight through him to start with. "Ah... well, first of all..." he drawled, fingers finding a twisting a lock of teal hair around, "I like being carried like a princess."

[rosepaean]

"Princess-carried, I have that noted down." it was not a large room, good thing because the Eladrin did not think that he could endure a very long trip to the silk coverings of the bed. The room was warm but there was a cool breeze from many of the wonders of artificing that managed to make itself useful around the hotel where the group stayed here and there.

It was a good thing that Kris enjoyed carrying Will.

The Eladrin was much too tall to be carried but there were other ways in which Will could pamper him; and Kris was fairly storng as most clerics generally were. He then laid Will on the bed and then took a seat rather beside that form; his tunic falling open to reveal glimmered skin and his long hair falling over his shoulders-- he then very tenderly slipped his fingers underneath Will's own shirt until he was touching flesh.

"Gods, how I've wanted that.. I suppose I should now admit to all of the things I think of in the shower, and most of them involved you." would put rather a different spin on Kris coming out of the shower all clean, after clearly purging such dirty thoughts right down the drain.

[unwisely]

Oh and Willow would find those ways and pamper this man, would take care of Kris the way that he so deserved to be taken care of, especially when he so wholly and fully poured himself into caring for everyone around him. Will fully intended on showering the Eladrin in affection now that he knew it was welcomed, that it was reciprocated.

Will settled back against the bed as he was set down, watching Kris as he sat near him, watching the enticing way that shirt fell open. His tongue flicked out to wet at his lips like he'd just glimpsed something impossibly delicious. And he had, hadn't he?

The bard arched towards that warm touch like a cat, eager for more of it, wordless in his encouragement. But those words, the idea of Kris thinking about him alone in the shower, oh it did get Will's mind going. Well, fuck. "I'd love to hear all about them. All the wicked things you imagined..." He reached up to find Kris's shirt, to urge it down from his shoulders. "I'll tell you mine. How often I imagined dropping to my knees in front of you and wrapping my lips around your prick... finding out the songs you'd sing while you came undone for me."

[rosepaean]

Perhaps the Eladrin should've anticipated how forthright Will would be about this. Except, he had not-- he had never heard a salacious thing coming out of Will's lips, at least not within his hearing; his mind was buzzing at the thought of the high elf telling him such filthy things.

And then those words hit his ears and he was not prepared for how his cock twitched in sweet response; what he could not keep was the moan from his lips at the image which flowed through him-- of Will with water sluicing down his body, wet red hair clinging to his shoulders and his neck, with lips hollowed out.

The effect of that was Kris' hand slipping even further underneath that shirt as he pressed his palm flat and upwards. This was an effective way of carrying fabric away from stomach, and because of his hand, the elf was being bared to his dancingly sensual gaze. "I would be your willing instrument, I am sure you could coax the most beautiful tunes out of one-- but I think that I've had the same thought.. from both sides, I've thought of you both under me and over me.. all different ways."

[unwisely]

Oh Kris should have seen it coming. Willow never had an issue with too much shame, spoke what was on his mind perhaps a little too freely at times. And right now what was on his mind was Kristophe Fallon and absolutely ruining one another carnally. The bard's smile widened slow and wicked as he saw the way that Kris reacted for him to that.

Arching towards that warm hand, he purred his approval, a wordless encouragement for more. He preened at the way that the eladrin looked at him. He shifted, body arching, slender and pale as alabaster and reacting like the entirety of his person was blossoming to life under the other man's touch.

"I would, Sugar... I would make a symphony out of you But oh I've thought of it too, of bending you over the kitchen counter, of feeling you inside me as you ruin me entirely. So many different ways."

His hand curled along Kris's neck, nails scratching at the nape of his neck.

[rosepaean]

Kris would've let Willow destroy him with those devil magic eyes and that purring and utterly husky voice, let it pour over him like dark chocolate fondue meltingly sinful. The stolen glances and the way that all he wanted do was touch and memorize skin that was revealed to him as he placed his hands all up on cream-coloured skin and watches the way that Will's flush seems to blossom pink like a flower given rise to bloom.

That was not the only thing blooming that is if the hardening bulge underneath Will's tight trousers could be attested to.

And so he leaned in and followed with his fingers the line of red disappearing underneath fabric, dancing lightly over the hardness evidenced as if Will's body was something deserving of the most divine of worship, and he spoke and there was wonder there like nourishing rain to hungry land.

"Never let your Patron tell you that your worth is contained only within what you can do for her, you are a wonderland with songs and a brilliant clever mind-- all of that having nothing to do with anyone except you." And then Kris squeezed the cock and dragged his palm indolently.

[unwisely]

Those obscenely talented hands were doing things to Willow that he, creature of lyrics and words that he was, did not have the vocabulary to properly describe, except that it was perfect. They'd barely begun, and already this felt so different from every casual, nameless tryst that he'd had, different on an emotional level clearly, but a physical one too. It was like the love he felt for this man had invaded the cells of his body and made each and every one of them glow with warmth.

And then those fingers went teasing over his arousal -- and on he was aroused, no hiding the way his prick had swelled within the confine of his pants. A moan slipped from his lips as he let his hands drag down Kris's chest, in full appreciation of the work of art in front of him.

When Kris spoke, it struck true to something in the bard, as it so often did. He didn't realize until the words were in the open air how badly he needed to hear them. "Kris... I..--ah!" Well, so much for words. Instead he groaned and rocked his hips up towards the pressure of that palm.

[rosepaean]

Robbing the bard of feels, now wasn't that an accomplishment in and of itself when it came right down to it-- the way that the breath and words stuttered out like a flame, the inticate pathway of pulsing veins that throbbed against palm. It was a rich world of which he could spend his entire life getting to now.

No, he would never allow himself to go too far from Will-- if they met an end, it would be together.

Another methodical squeeze before he was moving up and down flesh, and then back to navel, palm flat on abdomen and then like a ship sailing into harbor, his hand moved back downward, fingers this time poised against the causeway of skin and then slipping just underneath the hem and immediately he could sense heat radiating from the other man-- a wicked and sensual heat. "You are gorgeous and I am glad you are mind." he leaned down to levy a teasing kiss to those full lips while his hand slipped into pants nearly wrist deep.

[unwisely]

Willow had not considered how good at this Kris would be, but he probably should have known. There was something warm and breathtakingly physical about the cleric, grounded and real and Will had no defense against it.

When those fingers went questing again, this time with nothing in between them, Will voiced a moan directly to the eladrin's lips, arching against him. The bard had a tendency for motion, of difficult in the stillness, always caught on the wind in a dance of his own, and now was no difference, but he desperately needed the other man to be his partner in this dance.

He leaned up to catch Kris's lower lip between his teeth, a brief, sharp little nip before he soothed it between his own lips. "All yours, Sugar. Never doubt it... and fuck I need you right now. Can't think straight." Too busy thinking incredibly gay.

[rosepaean]

"Ah, I will consider it a feat that I've been able to render you unable to think." Kris said with a chuckle as his fingers touched ridged flesh of cock, thumbs brushing against a quivering vein while he rumbled a groan with the touch of teeth pulling against his lower lip, all sensations of which felt good to him and honestly, he'd never wanted them to stop

Will had him pinned correctly, Kris was very physical in nature. Points of sensuality gathered around the Eladrin, the ripe succulent fruits of summer, the hot drinks of fall, the cozy feel of sweaters for winter and then followed by the sight of the first blooms of spring.

Inside he was reaching so that he could wrap his fingertips around the quivering length, giving it a leisurely squeeze, before he followed it fist to head in a very careful stroke. But he did not remove Willow from those pants yet-- no, he was intent on torturing him. "You are going to have to tell me every little spot that feels good, I want to hear it."

[unwisely]

Cruel. Cruel torturing Cleric! Meant to be the hand of comfort and aid, instead the hand of maddening teasing, and Willow wouldn't dream of complaining. Torture yes, but sweet, thrilling torture, to finally know what it felt like to have Kristophe's warm, capable hands on him.

"I'll tell you everything you want, but it's going to take a while..." Willow trailed off with another moan, eyes half-lidded so that he was watching Kris through lowered crimson lashes. "Because everywhere you touch your hands feel like heaven."

Heaven that Willow may not have deserved, but sure as hell would not give up now that he had it, now that he knew it. Now that he knew that Kris wanted him the same way he wanted the eladrin.

[rosepaean]

Now that Kris knew that Willow Harper loved him, he would fathom the depths of hell if it meant bringing him home again to the warmth of his arms, he would cast all those demons in radiant light if it meant protecting the redhead from those who did not have his best interests at heart.

Every song, every laugh, every smile, every sigh, and every breathless moan was precious to Kris and he nearly purred at the delicious sounds coming from his lover.

There had never been a test to ensure the integrity of the walls or the bed of the hotel? Well there would be now for Kris meant to be a thorough yet claiming lover. That inital goal was put into effect when he started to stroke Will low and slow, marinating him with fingers and those precome drops that he could feel dew just at the velvet petal soft head.

He caught Will's lips once again as he stretched out beside the other man, allowing his body to warmly cuddle into the side while he touched to his heart's content, and he would push his lover to the very heights if allowed.

[unwisely]

All Willow knew was that he was really and truly home now that he was in Kris's arms, now that he'd found his home in the cleric's heart. What better place could there be to dwell?

Well, he knew that and he knew that he was in over his head as Kris was already taking him apart with those gentle, talented hands. Fuck. The bard could not keep still, turning into the other man as he stretched out beside him, drawn to that warmth. A shaky moan was muffled to Kris's lips as that hand moved over his prick, warm and strong and teasing more and more precome from his arousal.

Eventually he let his head fall back to the pillows to gasp for breath, to keen a soft, needing sound.

"Oh love..." He half sang the words, even as his own hand went wandering, down to seek out the cleric's cock because he had a need to touch too, to return to attention.

[rosepaean]

Here in the inn room, there was no need of any sort of hiding, just a sweet back and forth of caressing touches, with Kris slowly working that length up and down with his own fingers. At the first touch against his own cock, it was like spring and he arched himself into it, his own arousal plump and leaking out generous amounts of precome, to wet against that hand, arching himself into it.

He was not shy, of course he was not but he was at a moment's notice ready to back away if he hit upon something that Will did not favor; such was how Kris' commitment was to making the other man feel good.

Back and forth, over and over while he fielded any bit of arousal he could-- meanwhile his own hips arching in a methodical manner of which he was unspokenly and with only his body language, begging for more.