☆ Round One!

[jsmn_kink]

Welcome to the first round of the Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell Kink Meme at jsmn_kinkmeme!

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■ Anonymously comment with your request – a character/pairing/nthsome, and a kink or prompt.
■ Only one prompt per post.
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■ Have fun! :)

Keep in mind:
■ Any kinks welcomed!
■ The fill/request does not need to be sexual or porny.
■ Multiple fills are allowed.
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Comments

Norrell/Strange - Clinical Sex

[(Anonymous)]

Strange gets cursed (or accidentally curses himself) into a desperate, aroused puddle, requiring Norrell's help to get off and get over the curse. Cue Norrell finding the entire experience incredibly interesting and worthy of careful study. Give me note-taking, running commentary, magical speculation, or anything else to drive Strange to frustrated distraction. Multiple orgasms and both of them ending up utter messes would be such huge bonuses.

Re: Norrell/Strange - Clinical Sex

[(Anonymous)]

I genuinely did not know I wanted this. I want this.

Re: Norrell/Strange - Clinical Sex

[(Anonymous)]

Are you me?! This is literally one of my biggest kinks honestly. Someone please PLEASE write it before I have to.

Re: Norrell/Strange - Clinical Sex

[(Anonymous)]

Hotty MacHottington! Sounds brilliant! I would love to read this :)

Re: Norrell/Strange - Clinical Sex

[(Anonymous)]

This is SMOKING hot OP!

I can totally see Strange leant back over Mr Norrell's chair, hair hanging down, knuckles white on the edge of the table, panting and begging for release whilst Norrell scribbles down notes in his tiny handwriting <3

Re: Norrell/Strange - Clinical Sex

[(Anonymous)]

Unbelievably hot, I cannot even. I simply cannot.

Re: Norrell/Strange - Clinical Sex

[(Anonymous)]

Okay, you know what, does anyone have plans for this? If not I am going to do it, probably, because it needs doing.

Are you okay with postcanon, OP? If not it's fine that's just where my mind's going right now.

Re: Norrell/Strange - Clinical Sex

[(Anonymous)]

OP here, and I love all things to do with post-canon wanderings. DO IT! I would squee so hard!

An Investigation Into The Effects Of Penwell (1/?)

[(Anonymous)]

There *might* be five parts to this, but I'm not sure yet. I'm posting the first two bits today. I hope you like where it's going so far!

-

Strange should not have tried the spell. Unquestionably he should not have tried the spell. In fairness, it had not done at all what he had expected.

It had seemed perfectly logical. The point of the spell seemed to say something about filling the caster with joy, and Strange had keenly felt the need of it. After all, he was trapped in a pillar of darkness with only his former master for company and, while he was finding Norrell's company significantly more tolerable these days, there were many things he missed about the outside world. Faerie seemed to be in perpetuate twilight, for one thing.

Besides which, the spell had said something about being touched. Strange, who had not embraced his wife in a year, keenly felt the need for human contact, and as he could hardly ask Norrell, magic seemed the most sensible solution.

Perhaps he ought to have looked more carefully. It was true that he had not entirely been able to read the description, which was written in a small crabbed hand and faded with age.

All the same, he did not feel he deserved this. Not at all.

His blood felt as though it were on fire, his body tingling in the extremities and all over heat. His skin felt too tight, his clothes itched, his body ached for touch. In short, Strange was in a most dreadful state, and had no-one to turn to except for Norrell.

It was humiliating, but he could not concentrate long enough to look for a counterspell. The handwriting was so very crabbed and so very faded, and the sensations he felt would not allow him to sit and read.

It was with this goal that he was now hurrying down to Norrell's library, which was connected to his own house by a long winding magical staircase he himself had conjured. At the moment, he was wishing he had made it shorter.

As he burst into the library Norrell turned to look up at him. He was sitting at his desk wearing his cap and house-coat and had his spectacles on. He looked the very picture of calm scholarly inquiry. Strange steeled himself, for this would entail a significant amount of embarrassment.

"Sir," he began.

"Are you quite all right, Mr Strange?" said Norrell, looking him up and down.

Strange sat down, and groaned. "I fear I am not, sir," he said. "I tried a spell that has gone most horribly wrong. It was meant to induce euphoria in the participant, er, but I am very much afraid that I may have - "

"You tried Penwell," said Norrell.

There was a moment's silence. Then Strange sighed. "I'm afraid so," he said.

Norrell looked at his feet. He was going red, which Strange thought was quite unfair; if anyone here had the right to blush, it was he.

"I believe I am familiar with the spell," said Norrell. "I spent nearly three days deciphering the book some years ago. I know its contents well."

"Are they all like that?" asked Strange, running a hand through his hair.

"Not all, but many. Penwell was unfortunately given to these fits of highly unsuitable research." Norrell began to warm to his topic. "In fact I find that in general he is very - "

"Sir," said Strange, "Please, I need you to help me. Is there a counterspell?"

"Counterspell?"

"For the one I have cast on myself."

"Oh!" Norrell eyed him, and grew redder. "There is none, I am afraid. This should be a lesson to you, Mr Strange, on the inadvisability of using unfamiliar magic without testing it first. Really, it is a most dangerous practice. I have told you many times that you ought not to even read an incantation aloud without being thoroughly sure of it."

Strange groaned. "And I regret my actions, sir, I assure you, but please tell me what can possibly be done to lift the enchantment. I am...hardly in a fit state for study just at the moment."

Norrell studied the carpet, avoiding even looking at Strange. "There is no counterspell," he repeated. "The only cure is to...get the spell out of the blood."

"I am sorry?"

"By - by experiencing - by committing indelicate acts," said Mr Norrell. He shifted from one foot to the other. "Until the poison, as it were, is lanced from the blood."

Strange laid his head on the table. Bloody hell, he thought. He rose, clutching his coat about him. "In that case, if you will excuse me, I shall endeavor to take care of myself."

Norrell was so very red as to look feverish. "I do not think it will work," he mumbled. "The spell intimated that the acts must be committed with another person. Er. By another's hand, as it were, and not your own."

There was a long silence, in which Strange swore increasingly desperately in his head and Mr Norrell stared at his pen for some time.

"I see," Strange said at last. He cleared his throat. "Well. In that case I suppose I have no other recourse but to beg you to help me, sir."

Norrell's head shot up and he stared at Strange. His lips parted as if he was going to speak, but he said nothing.

"I realize this is extremely inconvenient and indeed distasteful for you," Strange began. "And I would apologize most sincerely for forcing your hand, but I am afraid I cannot exactly go home to my wife now."

"Help you," said Norrell, looking at Strange with an expression Strange had seen before on his face. But never directed at a human; no, it was the expression he assumed when examining a new spell, as if trying to pry all its secrets from it with only his mind. Strange found, to his horror, that this expression was sending thrumming little tendrils of interest through him. It was so very intense an expression, and directed at him when he felt so helpless. He felt his arousal grow greater still, to his own discomfort. That it should be Norrell looking at him like this, and that it should have this effect on him - it must be the spell, mustn't it?

He did not like to think of the possibility that it was not.

"The research possibilities," said Norrell thoughtfully, "Would be immense. I have always wondered what the effect of Penwell's spells on a human subject would be and now you have very obligingly presented yourself." He nodded. "Yes. I will help you, sir."

Strange sighed in relief, his skin tingling in anticipation of being touched, and he looked up at Mr Norrell with eyes that felt full of heat. He had often used this expression on Arabella with some success, and felt that if he should do this, it should be done properly. But Norrell had turned away and begun scribbling notes. Strange frowned.

"Sir?" he began.

"I must record all initial impressions before we begin," said Norrell, pushing his spectacles further up on his nose. "Copious notes are the foundation of good research."

Strange groaned, frustrated. He strode over to the desk, bent himself over Norrell's chair, grabbed the edge of the desk on both sides of Norrell. He whispered low in his ear, "Sir, I beg of you."

Norrell had gone still, his pen still dripping ink, his eyes closed.

"I will not stop my note-taking, sir," he whispered, leaning slightly back towards Strange.

"I do not ask that. Only I cannot bear to sit here for ten minutes while you scribble on a sheet of paper. I burn, sir."

Norrell swallowed with a clicking sound and put his pen down. He breathed out, turned around to face Strange, and then shook his head as if to clear it.

"Please," said Strange, his fingers turning white as they gripped the side of the desk with the intensity of his desires. "Please, sir."

He reached out to Norrell. Now that Norrell had turned in his chair, their faces were very close indeed. The difference in size between them was such that Strange could stoop over him very well when he was seated.

For a moment there was nothing, and then Norrell leaned in and kissed Strange. Strange groaned at the relief of it. Quite aside from the effects of the spell, it had been so long since anyone had done this to him. No-one had reached out a hand to touch him for a full year. It felt like the first time, like he had been born into a new skin and was only now relearning each sensation.

From your OP

[(Anonymous)]

Oh my! This is wonderful, Anon! I love this pairing, and you've presented a very interesting take on the situation so far. Both of them ring so true, and the situation is both very funny and very hot. Can't wait to read the second part now!

An Investigation Into The Effects Of Penwell (2/?)

[(Anonymous)]

Norrell broke away. "This position is very uncomfortable, Mr Strange," he said.

Strange nodded and took Norrell's hands, pulling him up. This was interrupted when Norrell reached around to the back of the desk for a pencil and a small notebook.

"What on earth is that for?"

"The notes," said Norrell impatiently.

Strange groaned in frustration and kissed Norrell again, pulling him towards him, seeking as much contact as he could. The warmth of him, the presence of him, the smell of him - Strange could not tell anymore if it was Norrell he wanted or simply another person, another body, someone to ground him. Norrell's hands went to his hair, tangling in the curls, and Strange gasped into Norrell's mouth. Norrell gave a soft sigh as if to surrender and opened his lips further, licking with surprising delicacy at Strange's own mouth.

They broke after a few minutes, both panting, and Strange found he had backed them against the desk. This was perfectly satisfactory to him, and so he did not change their positions. He could feel their bodies pressed together most intimately, could feel how his own passion had affected Norrell.

"It would seem," said Norrell rather more thoughtfully than he ought to have been able to given the circumstances, "To remind one of Ormskirk's thoughts on the nature of mood-lifting spells. He often said that artificial inducements were extremely unwise in this endeavor. There is an inevitable backlash, he said, which in your case will no doubt result in exhaustion and - oh good God." Strange had rolled their hips together, thereby managing to produce a break in the monologue.

"Let me find my relief like this, sir," he said into Norrell's ear. "May I? It will be little work for you - you will not have to - "

"Yes - yes." Norrell sounded decidedly less composed now and his hands were clutched to Strange's jacket. Strange pressed closer and gripped Norrell's hips, rubbing against him. In other circumstances it might have been unsatisfying but now Strange could not think that. He could not think of anything but finding release.

Norrell, he realized dimly, was still talking. He was saying, breathlessly, " - effects, as I was saying, may include exhaustion, lethargy, and ennui, so it is possible that - that you will be in no fit state to study the phenomenon with me - really most ir-irresponsbile behav- "

Strange kissed him to prevent a lecture; he was prepared to make allowances for Norrell, whom he strongly suspected had never had another person before, but scolding one during a conjugal act was too much. Fortunately Norrell relaxed into the kiss immediately, their mouths meeting and parting and meeting again with their movements, breathing into each other. Strange gave one final thrust and then his climax came as he moaned into Mr Norrell's mouth.

For a moment all was silence, but, Strange realized, nothing much had happened. He felt a little better, less intensely on edge, but he was still hard and he still felt the ache for touch.

"I," he began. "I am not sure it helped."

"There may need to be multiple repetitions of the incident," said Mr Norrell, muffled slightly by his face against Strange's.

"I'm sorry?" said Strange, pulling back.

"I thought it might be the case," Norrell continued, straightening his spectacles, which had become most discomposed by their activities. "The book spoke of purging poison, which seemed to indicate a need for many attempts."

"How many is many?" Strange demanded.

"Oh, one never knows. I should think three or four."

"Three or four!"

"Quite." Norrell had picked up his memorandum-book and pencil and was scribbling frantically. "I am very pleased to have proof of the supposition."

Strange sank down into Mr Norrell's chair and buried his head in his hands. He ground out a frustrated noise through his teeth. Mr Norrell only continued to take notes.

Strange's need was making itself known again; his mind, clear for a moment, was filling again with distracting urges. He stood up and grabbed Norrell by the arm.

"Please, sir," he said, "If you intend to continue helping me I highly recommend we retire to a bedroom. Which one does not signify. It will be significantly more comfortable."

Norrell continued writing as he was hustled along the library floor. "- most fascinating desperation in the subject," he was muttering. "Uncertain if these effects are amplified by the fact that we are in Faerie. Mr Strange, do you think the effects are amplified because we are in Faerie?"

"I do not know, Mr Norrell!"

"There is no need to snap. It was only a question." Norrell scribbled something else in his tiny handwriting. "I think it must be, for there is so much more magic in Faerie than in England. The effects of most spells have been amplified, you notice."

They had by this time come to the door of Strange's room, and Strange dragged them inside and over to his bed.

"Oh," said Mr Norrell, blinking rapidly. "I see. Are you quite sure this is the appropriate setting for an experiment, sir?"

"I do not much care if it is," said Strange in exasperation. "However, it will be much more comfortable than the library."

"Yes, I suppose it will," said Norrell, looking around. "Let me see. Hmmm. Could you remove your clothes, please, Mr Strange?"

Strange blinked and nodded at this surprizingly bold request from Norrell. At last this was going in the appropriate direction instead of into rabbit-trails about magic. In ordinary circumstances Strange could not have his fill of rabbit-trails about magic but all the relief from his first climax had faded and he was hot all over again, wanting to touch and be touched, wanting to feel skin against skin. With shaking fingers he removed his neckcloth and started on his waistcoat.

When he was naked Norrell stepped around him, looking him up and down. Once he reached out and touched his shoulder and Strange trembled and closed his eyes.

"Yes," he said eventually, "It is as I suspected. There is a distinct flush around not only the obvious affected areas but along several significant points as well. I do believe these are where the magic has got into your blood. Not literally into your blood, of course."

Strange's eyes snapped open. "That is why you wanted me undressed?" he demanded, turning to face Norrell. "So that you could examine the physical effects? And only that?"

"Well, yes."

"You cannot be so unaffected, sir," growled Strange. He pushed Norrell down against the bed so that he was sitting on the edge.

"I am merely interested in the magic!" squeaked Norrell.

"If you will not admit it, then I will make you," said Strange, busily undoing Norrell's waistcoat. Norrell did not try to stop him, instead leaning back slightly to provide better access. The touch of wool on bare skin where they made contact was like a current thrumming through him, and the urge to push forward and rub himself against Norrell was immense. But he had plans now: plans which would delay relief for a few minutes, and yet which he hoped would show Norrell what he wanted, what they both wanted, that there were more important things to concentrate on than theories.

Having pulled Norrell's shirt up over his head, he pressed against him, pressed kisses to his neck and pulled at the skin with his teeth. Norrell let out a little sound of need that shot through Strange and sent him down to Norrell's thin chest, biting at it, licking the flat planes of it. Just as Norrell's hand came up to his hair he moved further downward still to the place where his breeches still remained on. Strange nuzzled against them, eliciting another sound.

"Tell me you do not want this, sir, if you truly do not," he said, hands against Norrell's calves.

"I - I - "

"Tell me that all you care for is the research," he breathed.

Norrell whimpered. "Not all," he whispered. "I - I am most interested in the magic, but - please, Mr Strange - "

Strange made a growling sound low in his throat and surged up to kiss Norrell fiercely, pressing their bodies together, the sensation of skin-on-skin and skin-on-cloth mingling until he was hardly sure which parts of him were which. Norrell was gasping by the end of it.

"I think the spell may have some reciprocal effects," he said weakly against Strange's mouth. "I feel most peculiar."

Re: An Investigation Into The Effects Of Penwell (2/?)

[(Anonymous)]

Yesssssss! I almost cheered when I saw this fill was being posted! Norrell's reactions are spot on ... Strange is delightfully desperate ... Thank god for Penwell.

OP Again!

[(Anonymous)]

This just keeps getting better and better! I love how you've written both of them, and how much humor you've managed to work into this story. Your writing style is lovely, and sentences like "Strange kissed him to prevent a lecture; he was prepared to make allowances for Norrell, whom he strongly suspected had never had another person before, but scolding one during a conjugal act was too much" make me laugh out loud.

Thank you, Anon! This is just fantastic, and you've made me one very happy OP.

Re: An Investigation Into The Effects Of Penwell (2/?)

[(Anonymous)]

This is awesome! I can't wait to read more of it.

An Investigation Into The Effects Of Penwell (3/5)

[(Anonymous)]

Thank you everyone for your kind comments! They inspired me to write and so I got done faster than expected.

This is officially the second-longest thing I've published, ever. I hope you realize that. And I can't post it on ao3 because nobody there knows I write smut. :P But seriously thank you for this great inspirational prompt, I've had so much fun writing it. This got a bit fluffy at the end and I hope you don't mind too much.

-

Strange huffed a laugh and moved back down to Norrell's breeches. He made short work of them and of his smallclothes until Norrell was finally as bare as Strange himself.

"Now we are on equal footing," he said. "Have you lost some of your detachment? I see you do not reach for your notes."

Norrell flushed. "I shall still make a record of this," he said, "All of this. But - er - not just at the moment."

Strange gave him a wicked, wild smile and said, "Then I shall have to set to work."

This was his first time at taking a man into his mouth, and yet he had roughly the same sorts of arrangements Mr Norrell. Arabella had done this for him often, and he knew how to use his mouth on her, so he was certain he had the requisite oral dexterity. Surely it could not be so difficult.

He began as he would have with her, pressing sucking kisses to Norrell's thighs, eliciting sounds from Norrell that escaped through clenched teeth. "There is no need to restrain yourself," he breathed. "There is no one here to hear you."

"It is so terribly undignified and out of keeping with the spirit of the experiment," said Norrell, hands fisting in Strange's hair.

"Ah, but if you restrain your own reactions, how will you get accurate impressions?" Strange blew on the crown of Norrell's prick, then pressed an open mouthed kiss to it, and Norrell shivered.

"That is a point with some - merit," he said, stumbling over the last word as Strange licked along the shaft.

Then Strange took the head into his mouth. Norrell made a sound quite unlike Strange had ever heard from him, a sort of stuttering moan. Encouraged, Strange moved a little farther up. He overshot slightly, having been too confident, and had to back off for a moment, coughing briefly.

"Are you quite all right, sir?" said Norrell from above him.

"It is merely a minor miscalculation," said Strange. He resumed more carefully this time, wrapping a hand around what he did not think he could envelop. The taste was most peculiar, a sort of bitterness, but not entirely unpleasant. He felt that he could get used to it. He worked his tongue along the length slowly, dragging on and off, listening to Norrell's tiny still-muffled gasps. Yes, decidedly he could get used to this.

In fact, the proceedings were affecting him distinctly. Norrell's voice making little broken sounds above him - sounds Strange had never heard him make - was intoxicating. There was a sense of power and yet surrender, giving and taking at once. It was like and unlike it would have been with Arabella. After a while Strange realized he was feeling a great and tender fondness for Norrell, a desire to take care of him, which he did not fully understand. Suddenly he wanted to feel Norrell against him. He pulled off.

"I will finish later," said Strange. "It will be a reward for you if you will kindly refrain from touching your notebook in any way until we are finished."

Norrell frowned. "Then how am I to record anything?"

"Do it afterwards," said Strange in exasperation.

"I may forget."

"In which case I must have done something very wrong. I assure you, such encounters usually stick in the memory. My first time with Arabella - "

"Please, Mr Strange," said Norrell, with some horror, "Do not speak to me of your wife now."

"Of course. My apologies." Strange climbed up on the bed beside Norrell. "I beg your pardon, this is terribly ungentlemanly of me, but if you could please - "

Norrell nodded. Then he frowned. "What shall I do?"

"Anything," said Strange. "Anything, please. Only touch me."

Norrell stared at him for a moment with a look of critical inquiry which, most peculiarly, made him feel warmer. Then he said, "Would you like me to reciprocate?"

"Oh," said Strange, suddenly feeling vastly unprepared. "Are you sure? You do not find it distasteful?"

"I have questions that must be answered regarding the nature of the relief needed by the spell," said Norrell. "Namely whether it must be another's hand. A practical magician stops at nothing to confirm his theories. He does not regard any little apprehension he may feel at a new situation."

Strange privately thought that Norrell regarded nothing but his apprehensions most of the time, but saying so would only have caused strife. "If you are certain you wouldn't mind," he said. "I should not wish you to feel obligated, nor to do anything you do not desire."

"No, indeed, I am most interested in the question. How best might we arrange ourselves? I do not want to kneel. It is not good for my knees."

Strange snorted. "Well, if I lay on my back and you slide down - "

"That will be satisfactory."

Norrell was remarkably calm, and indeed he seemed to have regained his composure entirely, which Strange thought was thoroughly unfair. He had the dark suspicion that he was still being regarded largely as a test subject, and that his lesson had done no good at all. But it was far too late for him to be bothered about that. He only lay down and let Norrell do what he would.

"I am not entirely sure of the procedure," said Norrell from the general vicinity of his hips. "How should I - "

"Oh!" said Strange. "I am hardly an expert either. Er. Whatever comes naturally, I suppose."

"That," said Norrell reprovingly, "is hardly helpful." He leaned forward and licked daintily at Strange's cock. Strange gave a tiny gasp at the flickering little touch.

Unlike Strange, Norrell did not exceed his own limits. He proceeded with the utmost caution, first sucking a little at the head, and then drawing a bit more of it into his mouth; then he pulled back to lick a little more, as if accustoming himself to the taste of it. These teasing brushes, light and fleeting, made Strange mad with longing for more. But he did not speak; it was best to let Norrell proceed at his own pace.

He did, however, ask, "May I put my hands in your hair?"

Norrell looked up at him. "Oh. I suppose so. If you do not push."

"I would never." Strange brought his hands up and brushed Norrell's scalp, taking great care not to exert any downward force. He found himself comparing this experience to ones with Arabella again - she had great masses of silky dark curls which he often loosed when they went to bed together just so he could feel them between his fingers. Norrell's hair was cropped short still - though he had lost his wig by now - but the texture was not unpleasant either. It was a little like grass, stubby and a little scratchy and yet soft as well. He lost himself for a while rubbing Norrell's hair and ears, massaging gently.

Norrell was growing bolder now, taking more of Strange's prick into his mouth. Strange's hands on his head kept wringing low sounds out of him, which caused a very pleasant tingling vibration. Strange suspected Norrell had no more experience than he, but he was far too caught up in the sensations to mind much, and anyway it would have been hypocritical of him to object. In future they could -

No, he told himself, there was not going to be any future. This was a single occasion brought on by desperation.

But he realized with a horrible lurch that he would not mind if there were future occasions on which they touched and kissed and even fucked, perhaps. Indeed, he found the thought very pleasant.

An Investigation Into The Effects Of Penwell (4/5)

[(Anonymous)]

He realized also that he was getting very close to his end. "Sir," he said shakily, tugging upward on Norrell's hair. "I - I must ask you to stop if you do not wish - "

But Norrell remained and Strange came into his mouth with a low broken moan. After a moment, Norrell pulled back and made a face. He crawled up and spat into a cup on Strange's bedside table.

"I find the taste and texture extremely disagreeable," he said.

"I apologize. I did warn you."

"I wanted to see the experience through. I will have more data to record now. Do you feel any different?"

"Well," said Strange, "It is rather like the first time. I am a little clearer in my mind, but I do not seem to be back to normal yet. I believe the clearness may be extending in length slightly. It is difficult to tell." He rolled onto his side. "I don't suppose you think I might take myself in hand now and be cured."

"It would be most convenient, but I rather doubt it. It seems too great a risk." Norrell rolled over as well to face Strange and adopted a lecturing tone. "You see, if you try too many times, you will wear yourself out or do yourself some injury. And then what shall I do? You will be in no fit state to help me catalogue my research and I will still have to assist you somehow. It is not as though we have doctors here. No, it is better to continue on as we have been doing."

Strange thought rather muzzily that he could not, yesterday, have imagined a situation in which Norrell would have sucked him off and then assure him that, for purely academic and medical reasons, he really ought to let him bring him off again. Faerie was full of new and unexpected experiences.

He reached out lazily to stroke Norrell's cock, but Norrell squirmed away. "Not right now," he said, a little red-faced. "I do not wish to be distracted. I do not wish to forget the purpose of the experiment."

Strange would have been insulted to hear his own trials described as an experiment yet again - after all, Norrell had not been the one who cast the spell or the one who was dealing with the physical effects - if it were not for the fact that he quite used to this from Norrell now. In any case it was hard to object when Norrell was staring at him the way he did an interesting first edition. "I am entirely in your hands," he said.

Norrell nodded and, perhaps taking him literally, reached out his hand. Strange felt more relaxed, less frantic, though still very interested indeed. He put a hand on Norrell's face, then brought their mouths together; Norrell moved with him, leaning into the kiss, his hand slowing down for a moment as if distracted.

"I observe that you seem less agitated," Norrell commented when they parted.

"Mmm," said Strange. "I believe it gets a little better every time."

"The effect of the spell being purged, as Penwell puts it," said Norrell thoughtfully. "I believe you will grow easier after each - event. Gradual dismissal, you see, not sudden. Unusual in many forms of cursebreaking."

"But not unusual in - magic generally," said Strange, breath hitching. "I, I, that is to say - when I cast the spell on horse sands they faded over the course of time - " His hand came up to stroke along Norrell's side, up to his hair, then down again, wandering slowly over his body, tracing lines with his fingers.

"I imagine it must be rather like that, but special action is needed to cleanse the magic from the body," said Norrell. "Humans are often affected very differently by magic than natural creatures are. We seem to hold it differently." Without Strange's direct attentions on his cock he was back to the calm theorizing he had been doing earlier, but he was touching Strange, so Strange did not mind. He was overcome again with an odd wave of tenderness for Norrell, and also with a sinking feeling that this was going to be the end of him. He was going to nurse this tenderness without meaning to, was going to turn it into something great and irresistible.

He could not stop himself from leaning forward to kiss Norrell, wanting to touch and to be touched not just in one place but everywhere. It was as if what relief he had been afforded from his arousal had been given over to his unexpected emotion. He was not positive it was the effect of the spell. He was not positive it was not. He did not know, even, if he simply desired touch in general, regardless of who it was with.

But he knew this: Norrell leaned into the kiss, mouth relaxed and open, and pressed himself closer to Strange as if he felt the same need for closeness. His hand worked steadily, just a little shaky.

Was this a crossroads? Strange wondered. What was going to change about them, about the way they worked together, after this? He did not think he would be able to see it as only practical any more. It did not feel like a pure necessity, something to be done and then forgotten as soon as possible, not with Norrell's mouth soft against Strange's, not with Strange's hand gentle on Norrell's body. It felt like a beginning, or an end. Even with the intermittent bits of commentary - well. Strange thought that he had been wrong, before; Norrell had pretended to be unaffected, that was true, but he was not certain any more that the theorizing had been part of it. He thought perhaps it might be Norrell's way of doing any thing related to magic. He thought perhaps it might be Norrell's way of looking at the world.

The tension was building into an itch that demanded to be scratched, but he did not given in by moving. He wanted to take time, for he was conscious that there might never be another chance and he wanted to remember this. He wanted to remember the feeling of Norrell against him, stroking him with deliberate slowness, his cock hard and pressing to Strange when he shifted, the two of them kissing here and there, open to each other. It felt so unbearably intimate, so unlike what he would have expected. So unexpectedly gentle and close. It had been so long, so long, since he had been so close to someone.

"I think - " said Norrell between kisses, " - that we might - safely hypothesis that Penwell - was influenced by the Argentine Magician Thomas Sterling - " He broke off as Strange pressed a longer kiss to his mouth, licking into it, and then moved down to mouth at his throat.

"Sterling," murmured Strange against his Adam's apple.

"Yes. Yes. Sterling was very interested in the effects of magic upon humans and I think his work upon - upon - " Norrell's eyes were closing now, his head falling back, his breath coming a little harder. Strange felt his own breathing speed up, his end nearer now. Norrell's hand had slowed with the touch of Strange's mouth on his throat and Strange moved his hips a little now, trying to find more friction.

Norrell's grip tightened just a little as Strange thrust into it and he moved to press a biting kiss to Strange's lips and it was this that did him in. He gasped almost silently and spilled across them. There was a curious pull to it, as if more magic was being sucked out. He felt, not wholly empty yet, but depleted.

An Investigation Into The Effects Of Penwell (5/5)

[(Anonymous)]

But Norrell did not stop moving his hand when Strange had finished. Instead his look of intense concentration deepened, and he kept going. Sensitive from the aftershock, Strange forgot his earlier desire to slow down. He trembled, his shaking fingers clutching at Norrell's arms and back and hair, never quite still.

"The question is," Norrell said, "how long this can go on? Will it be more effective if continuous? Do you wish me to stop, Mr Strange?" he added after a moment.

Strange did not feel able to answer him in first two previous questions. He let out a needy sound and said "Don't stop" as he arched into the touch, and so Norrell kept going, steady and slow, driving him mad with it.

"I believe it may be," Norrell continued. "I believe the stopping and starting we have been doing has given the magic a chance to reassert itself. If we continue while you are still clear-headed I think the effects will be more persistent and you will be free of the spell."

Strange relocated his shaking hands to Norrell's shoulders, where they dug nail-marks into the soft skin there. He did not seem to be able to loosen his grip. He felt as though he had stumbled into a dream; all sensation felt distant except his hands on Norrell's shoulders and Norrell's hand on him. He arched again, seeking more touch. Norrell looked down at this, with evident fascination, perhaps at his own power.

It was almost painful now, the intensity of the sensation. He thrust faster into Norrell's hand, urging him to speed up, and Norrell did. He felt raw, gripped with sensations he could not control, as if he was not entirely his own self anymore. It was as though he was outside his own body, and yet the sensations were so very present that he could not be.

Strange came again, for the last time, panting through it. It was brutal, a crashing wave of sensation that swept through him and seemed to wash out everything within him, leaving him wrung out and exhausted. He tugged Norrell's hand away, for he felt he would die with the sensation if Norrell went on touching him. He thought the curse must have been over with, for the heat was finally beginning to recede from his skin, and he felt emptied.

He still had enough presence of mind and enough desire to slide down on the bed and envelop Norrell's cock with his mouth. A gentleman kept his promises, after all. He sucked rough and fast and messy, laving with his tongue. Norrell's hands found his hair, clutching almost painfully, and his legs came up to wrap around Strange's body.

At last he came with a cry, his back arching off the bed, and Strange soothed him through it, rubbing small circles into his hips. He slid up to kiss him for a final time - with a tug at the thought that it would be final - and then there was stillness. Strange found that he had even less urge to move from his spot than usual. His bones were heavy and soft at the same time, and he had not yet managed to get his breathing back to normal.

For a while he lay with Norrell there on the bed, stroking lazily up and down Norrell's back, breathing in sync with him. He felt entirely in pieces - sore, sweaty, shaky with the intensity of the experience. Norrell looked the same; his eyes were slowly blinking shut and his hair was mussed, sticking to his forehead and out at odd angles. Strange found it rather endearing.

"You still have notes to take," Strange said softly.

"I know," said Norrell. "But I - I do not - " He rubbed his face against Strange's shoulder with odd tenderness that startled Strange. "Now that you are well again, I suppose we should forget about this incident."

Strange's hand stilled. Norrell must have felt this, for he stiffened.

"Do you wish to forget it?" asked Strange carefully.

"I..."

"Tell me the truth, sir - for once. Did you want this?" Strange raised himself slightly to look Norrell in the eye. "Before? Would you have done this?"

"I - it is hardly a reasonable question. It is hardly respectable to - that is to say I - " Norrell turned away entirely. "A gentleman should not have such desires."

"Do you mean to say you did not?" Strange's hand caressed Norrell's back for a moment.

"It would not have been appropriate. You were married. Are married."

"Hmm." He resumed stroking Norrell's back. "A year ago I would have told you that I could not reciprocate your feelings," he said.

Norrell opened his mouth as if to complain that he had no feelings whatsoever of any sort, but Strange kissed him and he softened into it immediately, thereby slightly weakening any possible objections of this nature.

He continued. "Six months ago I would have denied any feeling, although I am not sure it would have been true. But now I cannot - " He broke off. "I have been away from my wife for a very long time in the past. But this is not the same thing. We are both alive, and yet we do not know if we will ever see each other again" He paused, kneading his fingers into Norrell's lower back. Strange felt more than heard the resulting sigh.

Slowly, he continued, "I will always love Arabella and I hope the same is true of her, but when I spoke to her last I think I meant, and I think she understood, that if she was lonely, she ought to take other lovers. It is not good for a person to be alone against their will for too long, I think."

Norrell furrowed his brow for a moment at this, as if struck by an old memory. But he said nothing, and so Strange went on. "Do you know why I cast the spell?"

"I presume because you were feeling dispirited."

"I was lonely. No-one had touched me in a year and it did not look like anyone would for the foreseeable future. I did not think I could ask you."

"You could have. I would have. I always would have." Norrell was only just audible and his tone sounded raw with the admission. Strange could imagine how much this statement took for him- it must have been like opening a vein.

"Always?"

"Since the day you did your magic," Norrell said, voice even quieter. Strange paused to take in the weight of this, and kissed his temple as a reward for honesty.

"But did not know that at the time I cast the spell," he added. "I think that now, at this moment, we are all we have. Since entering the pillar we have, I think, become much better friends. And I do not see why we should not add another dimension of comfort to our situation. I do not know what it will look like, but we certainly have time to learn the shape of it."

Norrell nodded against Strange's shoulder.

Strange was almost asleep when Norrell said, "I should go compile my notes."

"I wish I had not mentioned that. I was teasing you. Sleep a little."

"But it will not be fresh in my mind," fretted Norrell.

"If there is anything you forget I will be able to recount it with perfect accuracy. I assure you."

Norrell huffed a small sound of protest, but did not move.

They fell asleep together, and Strange slept easier than he had for a long time.

His last thought before he drifted off was that perhaps the spell had not been such a terrible idea after all.

Re: An Investigation Into The Effects Of Penwell (5/5)

[(Anonymous)]

Oh my goodness, it got so sweet at the end! How completely lovely!

I really liked how this read, it was so absorbing and I was as fascinated reading it as Norrell would have been when taking his notes on Strange. Thank you! I was really hoping this prompt would get filled :)

Re: An Investigation Into The Effects Of Penwell (5/5)

[(Anonymous)]

I love this, and it sold me on making this pairing work. I like that Norrell is using the magic to keep himself at a remove, because he does feel that way but won't admit it. Strange being a hopeless mess is hot, and the reasoning that he wanted to feel better without distressing Norrell is sweet.

Re: An Investigation Into The Effects Of Penwell (5/5)

[(Anonymous)]

This is such a good story and I love how sweet and fluffy it became at the end.

This bit :"Strange thought rather muzzily that he could not, yesterday, have imagined a situation in which Norrell would have sucked him off and then assure him that, for purely academic and medical reasons, he really ought to let him bring him off again. Faerie was full of new and unexpected experiences."

Seriously cracked me up. I love it!

OP One More Time!

[(Anonymous)]

Thank you so much for this Anon! It's fantastic, really fantastic. The characters are lovely, and the feels at the end are just perfect. You have no need at all to apologize for it.

Your wording and situation are fantastic, and your smut is very well-done. I loved reading it, and am thrilled that you chose to fill my request. Thank you!

Re: An Investigation Into The Effects Of Penwell (5/5)

[(Anonymous)]

Oh my god, I love this so much!

Re: An Investigation Into The Effects Of Penwell (5/5)

[(Anonymous)]

This story is so perfectly amazing! I must have said "OH MY GOD" out loud any number of times! Hooray for you and your lovely writing and perfect characterization!!!!!

Re: An Investigation Into The Effects Of Penwell (5/5)

[(Anonymous)]

I absolutely love this! How you managed to write something that was simultaneously smoking hot, sweet, and funny impresses me so much. Well done! I'd love for you to write more Strange/Norrell, you captured their voices so perfectly!

Re: An Investigation Into The Effects Of Penwell (5/5)

[(Anonymous)]

-you should totally put it on AO3, it's so lovely! You can make yourself a strictly-porn account, or orphan it, but please put it there, it needs to be shared!