WHERE WERE YOU ARMAND ? HUH ? a question asked by his beloved louis in the twilight hours .. how long was the departure this time ? one, two ? more than four weeks ? it precedes a month, they've yet to sustain a month .. and yet, it had been that long. armand, vacantly counted the squares on the calendar tacked onto the wall, his lips moving ever slightly in whispers : one.. two.. three.. even as louis yelled and, it pounded his head ( pissed him off ) the way he REPEATED AND REPEATED if armand did not readily produce an answer, this had become their normal. armand hated it. twenty seven.. twenty eight.. but , armand always comes back. that, was certain.
I ASKED YOU A QUESTION. . . armand longed for him, his sweet louis. they had laid ground in paris ― made explicit promises ― comfort embraced him in the form of the .. turbulent nature, the push and pull that only belonged to them. perhaps it was words vowed upon a cosmic joke.. but promises ? were still promises. perhaps delusion has finally rung his bell, but, he doesn't care. every pretty, smooth talking mortal he charmed out of the bar was not louis ― he, desperately, began to sample those meat bags high off their mind, thick, bloated veins that made the wallpaper dance.. as if it would suffice the warmth he was searching for ― THEY WERE NOT LOUIS. they pawed at him, asked for more ( oh the "romance" of a dirty bed, a flickering light ! ) but armand could not fuck them like his beloved practiced. every lame encounter ended the same, even if he ached.
@masteredinstinct ( louis du lac. ) : an abrupt , heated kiss during the middle of a fight . . . KISS & TELL.
and he aches, still. louis shouts & yells something undoubtedly crude, and then, armand is right there. pushes & slots his lips against his feverishly, and insistent. please, please .. broken litanies beseech his mind and armand doesn't even know what he's pleading for. he kisses once, twice, three times before sinking his teeth into the flesh of louis' bottom one. asking, coaxing .. promising. in lame hope his companion does not push him away, he relents control. such highs could not hold a candle to this , only his beloved could quell the storm of emotions that drove him away. push and pull, nails bite into the muscle of sharp shoulders and he feels the proverbial tension there, release. moth to flame, noses brush in a mess as another kiss is born .. each one had felt like an undoing .. body reacting and committing to memory just then. bodies pressed against the other.. and then, the ache. louis .. beloved.. his mind sings. forgive me.
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