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http://users.livejournal.com/_fredless/) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
paradisalost2011-12-21 11:16 pm
http://users.livejournal.com/_fredless/) wrote in paradisalost2011-12-21 11:16 pm
Entry tags:
They Say It's Your Birthday
Who: Fred and Wesley
What: Fred plans an evening for Wesley on his birthday
When: Dec 22 - Dec 28, Wesley's Birthday Week
Where: Wesley's Parisian Apartment, Catacombs, Paris
Rating: PG 13 --> ? TBD by muses. Will Update as needed.
She couldn't say, exactly, when she'd made the decision.
If only because it felt as if there really wasn't a decision to make. The remaining distance between herself and Wesley had felt far more bearable with a mystical castle and the majority of a town separating them. Fred wasn't as certain about distance making things fonder anymore, so much as manageable. But now he was just across the hall.
Just across. And it might as well have been the same space, for all the protection from her own thoughts that offered. You couldn't see through walls, at least not in the traditional sense. But you could feel heat through them. It might be winter in Paris, but it certainly wasn't in Fred's small studio apartment.
And now? It was Wesley's birthday.
Maybe, back at home, that might've looked entirely different. Dinner, maybe. Another not-quite-as-planned date. And there always seemed to be some distraction or the other. But they weren't in Paradisa, they were in Paris.
And now she was back to the part to it not really being a decision.
It didn't take much to break into his apartment. She'd never had much trouble with locks, not when she set her mind to them. Wesley was still at work, which suited her plans perfectly. After all, if he'd been here? She might not've been allowed much further than the living room. But Wesley wasn't there. And that afforded her plenty of time to locate a handful of candles tucked under one cabinet, and to light them along the perimeters of his bedroom. Even if truthfully the lights coming from the window were far more appealing.
A bottle of wine and two glasses sat quietly on his dresser. Because it was Paris, and there was more definitely wine. Either way, her lack of deciding aside? Whatever Wesley decided, they could still spend the evening together.
Finally she settled herself -- and a familiar bit of blue fabric -- onto his bed.
And waited.
What: Fred plans an evening for Wesley on his birthday
When: Dec 22 - Dec 28, Wesley's Birthday Week
Where: Wesley's Parisian Apartment, Catacombs, Paris
Rating: PG 13 --> ? TBD by muses. Will Update as needed.
She couldn't say, exactly, when she'd made the decision.
If only because it felt as if there really wasn't a decision to make. The remaining distance between herself and Wesley had felt far more bearable with a mystical castle and the majority of a town separating them. Fred wasn't as certain about distance making things fonder anymore, so much as manageable. But now he was just across the hall.
Just across. And it might as well have been the same space, for all the protection from her own thoughts that offered. You couldn't see through walls, at least not in the traditional sense. But you could feel heat through them. It might be winter in Paris, but it certainly wasn't in Fred's small studio apartment.
And now? It was Wesley's birthday.
Maybe, back at home, that might've looked entirely different. Dinner, maybe. Another not-quite-as-planned date. And there always seemed to be some distraction or the other. But they weren't in Paradisa, they were in Paris.
And now she was back to the part to it not really being a decision.
It didn't take much to break into his apartment. She'd never had much trouble with locks, not when she set her mind to them. Wesley was still at work, which suited her plans perfectly. After all, if he'd been here? She might not've been allowed much further than the living room. But Wesley wasn't there. And that afforded her plenty of time to locate a handful of candles tucked under one cabinet, and to light them along the perimeters of his bedroom. Even if truthfully the lights coming from the window were far more appealing.
A bottle of wine and two glasses sat quietly on his dresser. Because it was Paris, and there was more definitely wine. Either way, her lack of deciding aside? Whatever Wesley decided, they could still spend the evening together.
Finally she settled herself -- and a familiar bit of blue fabric -- onto his bed.
And waited.
no subject
Warmth. A tender acceptance that he could feel- no, trust if he let himself open up to it.
He shifted closer too, finally allowing his body to respond to her touch, her nearness. She wasn't going to reject him, to pull back at the last moment. He knew that in his heart. He sighed against her lips, his breath intermingling with hers; skin brushed against skin, his hands starting to explore again. To caress the woman he adored with all of his heart. He wanted to know every inch of her. To fill her with the kind of happiness he felt in beig closer to her, the joy in discovery. Still so much to learn. Together
Rolling onto his back, he pulled her with him, kissing her deeply again, one hand coming up to stroke the nape of her neck. His hips rocked subtly, not hiding how much he wanted her, but not insisting either.
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It wasn't nearly enough to get intoxicated from. So why did she feel so dizzy?
Fred rolled with him, her body settling over Wesley's own. His hips cradled hers, pressing up as her own answered naturally. There was another broken breath between them at best but still Fred protected that space. She pulled back to look down as Wesley, her hair a dark and tangled curtail. She's surprised him before, she knew that. Now was she needed to know was that he was absolutely certain.
Perhaps the only indication of just how much restraint that involved was her one hand that acted as a brace against the mattress -- her nails cutting deep into the sheets and padded surface.
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One hand slipped across the sheets to take Wesley's into her own -- from the same arm he'd so recently cast across his face. Her fingers tangled tightly with his, the unintended epicenter for all the tension coiled tightly inside her. Fred wasn't without her own doubts, perhaps despite certain evidence to the contrary. But she also knew the more time went on, the less weight they all seemed to have.
Her fingers tightened even further still, to the point she could feel the erratic nature of her own pulse. Then she claimed Wesley's mouth in a quick, fierce kiss as she pressed fully down onto him.
no subject
When Fred finally took him inside of her, he gasped sharply against her lips, his grip tightening reflexively on the hand clasping his and his back arching a little at the sheer pleasure of the moment. It was an indescribable feeling. He could barely draw another breath, but he forced himself to. No matter what happened afterwards, they would always have this. Just for them.
no subject
This wasn't going to be work at all.
She pulled back, but only slightly. Just enough that the shadows of Wesley's feature's were visible from beneath the curtain of her hair. If Fred was looking for something, she seemed to find it quickly enough. She kissed him again, mouth and hips settling into a similar rhythm.