jsmn_kinkmeme | ☆ Round Two!

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kinkmeme

☆ Round Two!

Welcome to the second round of the Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell Kink Meme at

jsmn_kinkmeme!

Below are some basic guidelines, but please make sure you also check out our complete Rules & Guidelines.

Guidelines:
■ Anonymously comment with your request – a character/pairing/nthsome, and a kink or prompt.
■ Only one prompt per post.
■ Fillers please link your fills in the Fills Post!
■ Have fun! :)

Keep in mind:
■ Any kinks welcomed!
■ The fill/request does not need to be sexual or porny.
■ Multiple fills are allowed.
■ Fills can be any sort of creative work: fic, art, song, photomanip, etc.
■ Beware of spoilers! Prompters and requesters are encouraged to warn for spoilers, but this rule is not enforced.
■ Warning for non-con, dub-con, abuse, slurs/language, and other potentially disturbing subjects is encouraged but be aware we do not enforce this.
■ Would fillers please make sure when posting a fill in multiple parts that they thread their comments by replying to previous parts.

Links:
☆ Mod Post
☆ Fills Post
☆ Discussion Post
☆ Misfire deletion requests
☆ Previous Rounds: Round One

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He set his hands at Childermass's waist and pushed eagerly forwards against his mouth, working it open even as he tugged Childermass's shirttails loose to get hands underneath them and onto his bare skin. Childermass himself, having precipitated the kiss, seemed quite unsure what he was meant to do next. He was standing very still with his hands in Segundus's hair. When Segundus skimmed his fingertips up his chest he made a sighing sound, and when those same fingertips scraped his nipples he gasped. Segundus rubbed up against him langourously with his whole body, allowing Childermass to feel that he was growing hard for him, and licked his way into Childermass's mouth in a very suggestive fashion.

Childermass said, sounding dazed, "I thought you would be—"

"Virginal?" Miss Absalom suggested. She was lying across the bed, watching them with what appeared to be intense enjoyment.

"Yes. No. I do not..."

"Am I not what you wanted," Segundus said, half in jest. He could not conceal the faint uncertainty in his voice, so different to the confidence of his hands. He had, he thought, slightly wanted to show off for Childermass and produce exactly this reaction: how skilled you are, how talented, how good you make me feel. Perhaps this was disingenuous of him. But he did want to make Childermass feel good. He had a great many tangled-up wants when it came to Childermass: he wanted to force Childermass into abandoning his pretense at stone-facedness and reveal the soft curious wondering person who lay inside, whom Segundus had been so lucky as to glimpse here and there. He wanted to make Childermass laugh, which fractured that stone-facedness. He wanted to see Childermass thrash in the grip of pleasure. Oh, that image opened a dozen more doorways: Childermass arching up from a disarrayed bed, Childermass tossing his head back and moaning, Childermass with his wrists bound to the bed...

"You are daydreaming," Childermass said. He sounded amused. He touched Segundus's face with a tender hand. "I want you, virgin or wanton I have spent a great deal of time wanting you. I have thought in considerable detail of how I would want you."

"I was daydreaming about how i want you," Segundus confessed.

Childermass looked extremely interested in this topic. And Childermass's interest, as Segundus had so many times observed, was fast and forceful and full of sharp edges. It was one of the things about Childermass that he found most attractive, that overwhelming interest. "What conclusions did you draw?" Childermass said. He smiled slightly, as though he could see the effect he was having.

Segundus moved a little closer and slid his hands down Childermass's back, past the waist, to where his buttock began to slope. "That I would like to pleasure you," he said. "If it is agreeable to the lady, with whom I have a certain understanding."

"It is very agreeable to the lady," Miss Absalom said. "I find the idea of such a thing delicious. Only I wish to have you after, as I am yet unfulfilled."

"Is that all right?" Segundus asked. He risked a look up at Childermass's eyes. "I know it is not... conventional. You are free to watch us. You are free to watch us now, if you prefer." The thought of Childermass watching as he took Miss Absalom— as she rode him, perhaps, touching herself as she displayed where his prick pushed inside her— was very appealing, to say the least.

Childermass said, "I have resisted for a long time the urge to touch you. I do not think I should like to give the chance up now." He let his hands rest at Segundus's waist.

"The chance will not disappear at daybreak." Segundus did not know how to explain to Childermass that he felt in his own heart the gentleness that he saw in Childermass's face, which promised affection but also more, and which asked very humbly not to be betrayed. Because he did not know how to explain, he touched Childermass instead, drawing him forwards carefully and lifting his shirt off, then kissing all the parts of him in a long line descending from throat to hip-bone. Childermass did not make much sound, but rested his arms around Segundus lightly, as though very tentatively enclosing him.

"Oh," he said when Segundus reached for his breeches buttons.

"Perhaps," Segundus suggested, "you might sit on the bed.

Childermass looked at the bed. He looked at Miss Absalom, who was angled so as to occupy a great deal of it. She looked at him in return rather curiously.

"You do not need to be afraid of me," she said— kindly, Segundus thought, and with no hint of condescension.

Childermass seemed yet uncertain of this, but he sat on the bed and allowed Segundus to remove his breeches and stockings. Segundus, kneeling, could not help doing as had previously been done to him, and lingering in all the unexpected places of the body: the ankles, the knees, the turn of the hips. Childermass's body was so different to Miss Absalom's, thin where she was soft and lavish, all hard angles where she was welcoming, rounded. The differences fascinated Segundus. Childermass's prick fascinated him— such a statement of want where it stood out from his body, and a kind of barometer of pleasure in the way it twitched and hardened. Segundus cupped it lightly and felt it respond. He licked it, and it responded again. He lowered his mouth very deliberately onto it, and heard a double intake of breath.

He did not look up, but sucked slowly and consideringly, pulling off to tongue with fascination at the glossy head, then lowering his mouth once more. He found the act not perhaps as interesting as he might have liked; it was very repetitious, and he could not fit all of Childermass into his mouth. He gagged a little when he tried to take him deeply in, and though this produced further gasps from Childermass and Miss Absalom, almost but not quite in unison, it was not very enjoyable. So he pulled off once more and instead moved lower and wetly licked at Childermass's scrotum, then the skin beyond and his taut entrance.

It was at this point that Childermass, breathing hard, brought a hand up to his hair. Segundus felt a little triumphant. He licked hard at that strip of skin, which made Childermass's hand twitch, and then set himself to exploring that entrance. He recalled the bright sensations that Miss Absalom had evoked in this location, a heat that had built all under his skin, but that at the same time had reminded him a little of champagne, the way the bubbles like stars burst all through it. This was what he wanted to give to Childermass. So he applied himself to opening that flesh with his tongue, both caressing and subtly pushing at it.

Childermass said in a hazy voice, "Oh, my God." His hand went very heavy on Segundus's head.

"He has a very gifted tongue," Miss Absalom agreed from behind him. Her own tone was somewhat breathless. "Isn't he beautiful when he wants to give you pleasure? When he loses himself in it?"

Segundus could not decide if he ought to be indignant about this description. But he could not very well respond to it. Instead he began thrusting his tongue in sharp, pointing little flickers, which made Childermass cry out and push forwards to him. Segundus rewarded him by pushing a finger in as well, being very firm and gentle with it. He pulled back to enjoy the spectacle of Childermass taking his finger. Above him, Childermass looked rather wrecked— the colour was high in his face, and he was staring at Segundus with dumb wonder. Segundus moved his finger in and out and Childermass bit his lip; harder, deeper, and Childermass made a dark sound.

"You like that," Segundus said in a low voice that he almost did not recognize. He was amazed by how it affected him, the knowledge that he could undo Childermass with pleasure. He bent his head and licked at the wet tip of Childermass's prick, just to see what result it would have. Childermass's hand clenched in the bedclothes. His prick was very heavy and very stiff; he was probably at the stage where he ached for climax.

Segundus pressed another finger in. He felt the tight flesh quiver and yield slightly around him. "Would you like me to take you?" he wondered, more as an idle thought. "Do you like being penetrated?"

"That is not fair!" Miss Absalom interjected. "I wish for you to take me!"

She was touching herself as she watched, her robe now open and two slick fingers making lazy circles between her legs.

Segundus said, "You have had me numerous times already."

"But I like to feel your prick inside me— pressing inside me very solid and deep..."

Childermass made a choked kind of sound. The top of his prick dripped.

"You like that as well," Segundus said curiously. "So you do want to watch."

"I," Childermass said. He appeared to be struggling for words. He closed his eyes. "I want everything of you. I wish to see you take your pleasure; I want to see your face when..."

Segundus had to close his own eyes. He rested his hot face against Childermass's leg. He said helplessly, "You may have what you want. Only I do not know how to satisfy both of you."

Childermass seemed to consider the matter, stroking gently against Segundus's hair, occasionally sighing heavily when Segundus did something clever with his hand. "Give her her pleasure," he said at last, "and then let me have mine. Can you do that? Will you last?"

"... I will try," Segundus said. He kissed Childermass's thigh. "You are very generous."

"There is nothing generous about it." Childermass showed a flicker of a smile. "I have the sense I am about to be given a show."

Miss Absalom laughed aloud at that, but she did not deny it. She beckoned to Segundus. "Come," she said. "Shall we be dramatic?"

So Segundus disattached himself from Childermass and removed his clothing with great haste. No sooner had he embraced Miss Absalom, greeting her with kisses, then she was pressing him down flat on the bed, and easing herself down onto his prick. He groaned at the feeling of it, for he had grown very hard while pleasuring Childermass, and the interior of her was unbearably delightful. But she was moving hardly at all, instead keeping him wholly inside her, which was hard for him to stand.

"Look," she said to Childermass— as though he were not looking. To Segundus, he seemed utterly transfixed. His hand was around the base of his prick.

But here was what Miss Absalom had meant: she opened the folds of herself so Childermass could clearly see where she was stretched around Segundus's prick, then rose very slowly and lowered herself once more, displaying every inch of the slide of him into her, showing Childermass how deep he went.

"Jesus Christ," Childermass said hoarsely. His hand moved very fast on his prick.

Miss Absalom repeated the motion, this time moaning very loudly as she sank down upon him. "He feels so good," she said, "keeping me so full— come here, come touch and see."

Childermass hesitated fractionally before obeying the injunction. His hand was trembling when he raised it to where they were joined. He touched the slick flesh of Segundus's prick, stroking just a fingertip against it. It was enough to make Segundus cry out loudly and thrust helplessly upwards for a moment. The sensation of that fingertip, when he was already buried inside of Miss Absalom, being gripped hot and wet!

"Go on," Miss Absalom said. "Feel. More. Put your finger inside me."

And Childermass did as she said. He let his fingertip probe at where Miss Absalom was stretched tight, and after a few tries— a few sharp bitten-off cries from Segundus— it pushed very tightly within, hard against Segundus's prick and rubbing at it slightly.

Segundus's breath sobbed in his throat. "Oh God," he said. "Oh my God."

Miss Absalom herself was breathing hard. She was working at herself now with her hand as she rode them both in slow, rapturous movements. It was not easy for her to take them both in, and every time she did so anew Segundus felt a sound ripped from him. He was amazed that he had not climaxed already, and he could only think that it was too much: the feel of her, impossibly taut, impossibly wet, and the look of almost-agony on her face as she laboured frantically towards her climax, and the feel of Childermass touching him— touching him inside her, his face awed and eyes gone almost black with the concentration of desire.

"I can't—" he said, and then: "I can't, I'm going to—"

"Not yet," Childermass said, and kissed him, which at least distracted him from the unendurably exciting spectacle, so that— though he suspected he sank his teeth very hard in Childermass's lip— he did not finish when he felt Miss Absalom climax around him. It was a near thing. There were not words for the feeling of it.

[sorry to break it here but tbc hopefully tomorrow...]

Oh.

My.

Fucking.

God.

Oh Jesus....this is SO HOT. I don't know what else to say other than I need a cold shower and I absolutely can't wait to read the next instalment!

Made the error of catching up on this on my lunch break OH MY GOD

*dazed*

I have to go back to work now!

A!a you are incredible. I can't process enough to leave coherent feedback. But Segundus losing himself in giving pleasure I bet is very beautiful indeed.

Same here!

To echo Childermass, Jesus christ!

*flings self down at end of thread and waits*

*something like a greyfriars bobby of magician!threesome fic*

[I'm so sorry to leave everyone hanging! Should be able to update in the next few days! --a!a]

*stares after you, looking beseeching*

Childermass slipped his finger out of her as she panted atop Segundus. It was glistening with her wetness. He touched it to Segundus's lip and Segundus let it penetrate his mouth, sucking the taste of Miss Absalom off of it. He saw Childermass's breath shudder as he did so, Childermass's eyes drawn magnetically towards his lips. He released the finger with a filthy wet sound.

"Please," he said. "Please, I'm so close, tell me what you— what you want; I want to give you anything you want, anything—"

Childermass kissed him again. It was a long, slightly aggressive kiss. It was sweet, lingering, hungry, but with a hint of violence. "You will wait," he said, "to give me what I want. Won't you?"

"Oh," Segundus breathed out. Then: "Oh!" As Miss Absalom shifted off him. He had to close his eyes and dig his fingers into the bedsheets so as to not touch himself, so acute was his desire for release.

Cool fingers settled on his brow, in his hair. He could smell Miss Absalom, a certain post-coital aroma she had, like late sunshine and overripe lilies, the end of summer, tinged with a touch of human sweat. He turned his head towards her blindly.

"Shh," she said. "Shh. I know how good you can be for him. You want to be very good, don't you?"

"Yes. Yes." A hand touched his prick and he cried out, hips arching upwards.

Miss Absalom tugged his hair sharply. A flash of pain. He moaned. She said, "Not yet."

But Childermass was— Segundus opened his eyes hazily and saw Childermass kneeling over him, gazing at him with almost animal desire, reaching— and then—

Segundus's prick pushed just into the clenched hole of his body. The precise star of muscle where he had previously licked, the softest, hottest, most delicate skin. This was what Childermass was giving to him: his most delicate part, to hold him and enclose him, to force him with its fist-like grip towards completion. The weight of Childermass pinned him to the bed, and Segundus reached up for him blindly, grasping him at odd angles: putting hands wherever he could reach. The rounds of his knees. The curve of his hips. The hot flesh of his prick. Childermass moved, rocking on him, taking him deep in his body, and Segundus made a punched-out noise.

Miss Absalom knotted her hand in his hair and pulled once more, jerking his head towards her. "Not yet," she said. "Not yet."

Segundus wanted to explain that he did not want to come yet, that he wanted to stay inside Childermass forever, pleasing him, fucking him; that he wanted to stare at Childermass exactly as he was now: kneeling as though in prayer with his dark hair in his face, naked and soft-eyed, and with Segundus's prick sliding into him, the most obscene and the most beautiful sight Segundus could imagine. He wanted to explain that he did not want to, but that he did not know how to not do it, with Childermass's body against his body and Miss Absalom's hand in his hair. But he could not manage to say it. He could only moan in fits and starts as Childermass moved on him. He entirely lost track of the world but for the hot plunge of flesh into flesh, and from time to time the sharp pain of Miss Absalom reining him in, forcing him back from the edge. He was aware of Childermass working himself fast, his breath stuttering in huffs, and Childermass's eyes burning down at him, and he said something inarticulable— the sort of thing you can only say in dreams, because if you said it in the waking world it would not make any sense. Then he was crying out and climaxing unstoppably.

Childermass continued riding him for a few long moments before giving a sort of startled sigh and opening his eyes very wide and shoving down hard and spending himself on Segundus's chest.

Childermass was still moving softly. Segundus was still holding onto his hips. He felt a great sense of peace that he had not known before. He raised his hand and Childermass caught hold of it, and they stared at each other, shivering a little.

Miss Absalom yawned and stretched and pulled Segundus to her, making room for Childermass on the other side of him. Childermass eased himself off of Segundus and into that space. Segundus, caught between them like a pearl cradled between two rough oyster halves, sighed comfortably and drew them both closer. Their bodies were warm. He pressed his face to Childermass's shoulder and felt Miss Absalom mold herself against his back. She stroked his arm. Childermass ran a hand through his hair, then let his palm rest at the back of Segundus's neck.

"Mm," Segundus said drowsily, wriggling slightly in satisfaction. "I could sleep like this. Only I do not wish to sleep, for I am already asleep, and I wish to stay here forever."

There was a short silence. Childermass said, "Your logic is dubious, as ever."

"You are mistaken," Segundus informed him. "But I will permit you to remain in my bed, because I am a generous person."

"It is my bed," Miss Absalom said. "But I suppose I do not mind if both of you stay."

"That is gracious of you," Segundus said gravely.

Childermass appeared close to sleep, which was very endearing. His hand had grown heavy on Segundus's neck. When Segundus risked a glance up, his eyes were drifting closed. He did not go to sleep, though; he wrinkled his nose and said vaguely, "What is that noise?"

Segundus made a questioning sound, a sort of mmph?

"That— noise, that bird noise. You must hear it."

"No," Segundus said, by which he did not mean, No, I do not hear it, for he could hear it now, if only faintly— like birds from a very long way off, possibly miles— but rather a more general refusal to acknowledge the interruption. He buried himself further into Childermass's shoulder, tugging Miss Absalom's arm tightly around him. "No," he said again, for emphasis.

Miss Absalom muttered something exasperated-sounding against his back. Segundus was about to ask her if she could quiet the birds, for they seemed to be drawing closer and he wished to rest, but even as he thought this he became aware that the noise would wake him. He clung to the last vestiges of the dream with drowsy hands— the feel of Miss Absalom's breath warm against his shoulder, Childermass's soft prick pressed against his leg, the faint smell of sex, damp and overripe and fecund, a lazy, salacious, flowering scent... but it was no use. Sleep was unspooling from him, and before he knew it, he was waking in his own bed.

"It is my bed," Miss Absalom said. "But I suppose I do not mind if both of you stay."

I love her. This whole thing. So hot, and then so adorable. It's amazing and perfect and I cannot love it enough.

OP here, by the way. This is more than I ever dreamed. Thank you so much.

FUCK

yes

Dear me, this is just absurdly erotic. The finger-sucking. The hair-pulling, omg, the hair-pulling.

I love how Segundus is just basically used by the pair of them. I would elaborate upon this, but my thoughts can be summed up by an incoherent "guh".

Can't wait to find out what happens next in the waking world...?

Christ in heaven, I think I combusted somewhere between "I want to give you anything you want, anything—" and "You want to be very good, don't you?" because they have got him so perfectly figured out, and it is so, so pleasing.

Maria Absalom forever!

@all my readers thank you guys so much for bearing with me while I'm traveling and not able to finish this as fast as I'd like! I promise more is coming soon! --a!a

Oh, a!a, you're the one giving us a delightful gift - I hope you know it goes without saying that it should arrive on the schedule that works for you. Safe travels! ♥

*endeavours to wait patiently*

*but this fic is so addictive it should probably come with a health warning*

take care, a!a...!

Segundus opened his eyes. Birds were singing loudly. They did not sound as sweet as birds were supposed to. He thought that they sounded rather bad-tempered. He frowned vaguely in the direction of them, sitting up and scrubbing at his eyes. For a moment he felt caught between waking and dreaming. He was very surprised to be alone in his bed. It was a shock, as though he had been plunged into cold water. A moment ago he had been comfortably squashed between those warm and lazy bodies, and now—

Now, as he gazed around his spare, neat, quiet, unassuming bedroom, with its stacks of books and its scholarly air and the small marks of genteel poverty, he felt a sudden surge of panic that the dream had not been real. For the man who lived in this room, he thought, with his meek and half-rate mind, with his turned sleeves, with his pedantic annotations, such a dream could only ever be a dream. To even think that one of the great Argentine magicians— to think that Childermass, who, with his dark looks and brooding disposition, was very like a poetic hero from a book, and who in addition was proud and learned and mysterious and sarcastic— it was quite absurd! It was quite piteously foolish! He imagined Childermass's expression: the arch disbelief, the faint hint of scorn. You? his imaginary Childermass said.

A sense of bitter shame and disappointment overwhelmed him for a moment. He buried his face in his hands. It was real, he thought, and yet it could not have been real, and he stewed in an unhappy muddle for quite a long while, paralyzed by fear and longing and other things he could not name.

There was a knock at the door.

Segundus was frozen by it. For the length of a quite a long pause, he did not respond. Then: "Yes?" he ventured in a very small voice.

The doorknob turned, and the door opened minutely. Here too there was a long pause, though Segundus could not read the hesitation. At last Childermass slipped into the room. He was in his shirtsleeves, looking extremely rumpled, as though he had just crawled out of bed. But then Childermass always looked extremely rumpled.

They did not look at one another. There was an uncomfortable silence. Childermass stared at the floor. Segundus twisted his hands in the bedcovers.

Eventually Childermass said, "You appear to have angered your dunnocks."

Segundus had to think about this for quite a while to understand it. "... Is a dunnock a type of bird?"

"Yes. They are not usually so vocal."

"Oh," Segundus said. He picked nervously at a loose bit of thread. He could not help feeling that in a moment something horrible would happen. He was tempted to forestall it by fleeing the room. Indeed, had he not been in his nightshirt, he might have done so.

"So," Childermass said. He shifted from foot to foot. Segundus caught him darting a glance upwards— a covert glance, oddly uncertain. "I do not suppose that—"

"Yes?" Segundus said very quickly.

"That is to say..." He fidgeted further. He said with difficulty, "I dreamt about you."

"Yes," Segundus said. He had meant this to mean: continue. But he could not say it without putting his longing into it, so that it came out meaning something else altogether: yes, yes, it was real; yes, I want—

He raised his gaze to Childermass. For a moment their eyes met. Segundus felt a tangible, physical jolt, a sense of something electric falling into place. He had meant to look down again, but found he could not.

"It was not a dream," Childermass said softly. His eyes were soft, too. Though they were still very guarded, Segundus could glimpse the shadow of that bare wondering self beyond them, the self that he most wanted to draw out towards him. He saw that he would have to be the braver of them, that he had— perhaps— less to lose than did Childermass.

Segundus said, "It was a dream, but it was a dream I shared. That is, I believe we shared it. I am quite accustomed to sharing dreams."

Childermass said rather wryly, "I am becoming aware."

Segundus flushed. "I hope the dream was... I mean to say, I hope you did not find it unpleasant. I know in sleep we are sometimes not who we would choose to be. I wholly understand if you feel, now you have woken, that you should not have... or that you do not wish..."

In answer, Childermass crossed the room. He stood beside Segundus's bed and regarded him with a mixture of ferocity and fondness. "Did you truly think that I would cast you off so soon?"

"I do not know," Segundus confessed. "I hardly know what to think." He looked down at his hands clenched upon the coverlet. "It is rather disconsolate to wake, after I have been dreaming, and find myself alone in my bed. It casts one into low and questioning spirits."

"Well," Childermass said, "there is a remedy for that." And he lifted up the bedclothes, just as though he had been invited, and— casting a careful glance at Segundus— climbed beneath them.

Segundus thought that perhaps he should have been piqued by this. Childermass was always going where he had not been asked to go. But at the same time he seemed always to be where he was wanted, before he knew that he was wanted, before even Segundus knew it, as though he possessed a cryptic map of Segundus's desires, as though he were following this map, though he could not quite read it.

Segundus lay down beside him and drew him close. It was the first time he had ever held anyone in this bed. It was not so different from holding someone in a dream, yet all the same he felt very glad. Childermass's skin was still warm from sleep, and as Segundus curled against him, resting his head on his chest, he made a vague contented sound that was half a sigh.

"I was afraid that I had invented it," Segundus murmured. "—The dream."

"You have a high opinion of your imagination," Childermass said.

Segundus smiled soundlessly against him. "It was rather good, wasn't it?"

Childermass said grudgingly, "It was not bad, I suppose."

Segundus made an indignant sound.

"It could not have been bad. You had given me what I wanted. Just by being..."

"Oh," Segundus said. He held Childermass closer. "I did not know. But I am glad."

Glad: that was how to describe the emotion, the current of contentment running through him. It made him feel light and heavy at the same time; drowsy, but also buoyed up by happiness. He could have fallen asleep like that, and he would have been pleasant to do so and wake in Childermass's arms. Indeed he could think of nothing that he would like better. Only— the crescendo of birdsong had swelled again by the window. It was unpleasantly raucous, and did not permit sleep.

Chlldermass groaned. "Do we know a spell to make them quiet?"

Segundus was rather pleased by this first-person plural, implying, as it did, a certain shared and permeable knowledge that lay between them. He said, "It required pledging them an object."

"I am going to pledge them a shoe in a minute."

"You are not wearing shoes, and you may not hurl mine out the window."

"How severely you restrict me," Childermass said. But he did not sound unhappy. He sounded sleepy.

Segundus said, "We shall have to ask Miss Absalom, the next time we see her. She comes and goes as she likes; I do not summon her. Or I should say I have never tried."

"No," Childermass said. "I am sure you have not." There was something amused and fond and frustrated in his voice. "However, I will hazard the opinion that she would not at all mind it. Indeed, she might well be pleased if you took such an action. It is more exhausting than you realize, winning attention from you."

Segundus did not know what to say to this. He felt rather chastised. "I do not think of it as a prize, you see," he said.

"But it is."

"I suppose I must owe you rather a backlog of attention, by your lights."

"Mm."

Segundus, feeling rather daring, gently pushed Childermass back against the bed and pinned him down, nuzzling against his neck. "Since we cannot sleep," he said, "I might use the time to discharge my debts."

Childermass enthusiastically demurred to object to this. In the end, it was another hour before they left the bedroom, and even then only because they had grown very hungry.

They thudded downstairs rumpled and barefoot, in their shirtsleeves and smiling foolishly at one another. Or rather, Segundus found his own smile foolish. Childermass's smile, he thought, was rare and solemn, like a night flower— something you had to be careful and patient to see. Even at its most giddy, it was like that. He caught himself watching that smile with too much intensity. How had he never noticed? he wondered. Or perhaps all along he had known, at some secret level. All along he had resisted the impulse to cultivate that smile, fearing to want what was beyond his reach.

Childermass said over a slice of Madeira cake, "You are staring at me like a bird intent upon stealing my breadcrumbs."

Startled, Segundus laughed. "Like what?"

"You have even tilted your head in the selfsame way. Now you are fluffing your feathers in indignation."

"I am not fluffing my feathers! I do not have any feathers!"

"Happiness suits you, I think," Childermass said unexpectedly. Then he looked away, abashed, his cheeks faintly coloured.

Segundus touched his hand. The kitchen was full of sunlight. The house itself seemed obscurely happy. The branches of the wild pear tapped gently on the window. Doves were calling, low and peaceful and sweet, and there were other bright chortled sounds of birdsong; a hint of magic, in everything growing— not precisely music, in the way that magic was never precisely music, but not precisely any other thing, like a mixture of music and aroma and the vision of something that you could never quite, quite see. It was in the stones of the house and the dust motes in the air and in Childermass linking their hands together, leaning back in his chair, saying nothing.

"Stay for the summer," Segundus said. He had not planned to say it.

"What, so you can put me to work in your garden?"

Segundus said, "Among other things."

Childermass did not answer at once. But he did not remove his hand from the table. After a while he said, "I could see my way to it, I suppose."

Segundus smiled, and he knew now that his smile was foolish. He did not mind terribly. "Good," he said. "Good."

OMG, YOU'RE BACK

*flings confetti*

This is so tender and lovely. It must also be the only fic in the history of fic to mention dunnocks, which literally made me laugh out loud (I grew up the countryside. I know dunnocks!)

I AM SO GLAD TO SEE THIS CONTINUED, I AM SHOUTING. HI!!

You are back! And just when I needed you most! This was lovely and "happiness suits you" killed me a little. Goddammit THESE TWO.

Oh this is just lovely! I don't think I've commented before but this fic has just been wonderfully sexy and now gloriously sweet. It's a joy to read

So adorable so adorable so adorable OH MY GOD

OH MY GOD

OP here. They are so adorable. WHY are they so adorable? I just want to scoop them up and adopt them. Maria must feel like this (among other things). Just ... *flails madly* I am incoherent. Carry on, you are amazing. I need to go lie down and wait for the warm fuzzies to subside.

YAY another update and a wonderfully, fluffy and completely adorable update at that :D I'm now drowning in John Squared feelings (as usual), thank you so much for this fic and can't wait for the final part <3

Segundus thought a great deal about summoning Miss Absalom. He thought about it for the next four or five days— although he did not think about it so much as this might suggest, since he was in bed with Childermass for much of those days. Not purely engaged in carnal acts, though it was thoroughly delightful to learn from Childermass's body what pleased him. He thought that Childermass did not know a great deal about what pleased him. Childermass was different from Miss Absalom, as a lover, in most respects: quieter, less forward, somehow reticent in his motions. He was slow and careful and very intent, and looked at Segundus all the time with steady dark eyes, his gaze so heated that Segundus began to fear he might melt.

But just as often they were tangled in the bed linens, half-drowsing, talking about some crux in a line of a lost book of magic until one or both of them fell asleep; or lazing on the rug in the library, scouring magical journals for silence spells. (They had tried three so far on the recalcitrant birds, but none had appeared to have an effect.) Or— to much noise of complaining— Segundus dragged Childermass out to the garden, where he rudely declined to speak to the plants and instead stretched out in the sun, smoking his pipe, failing to look even a little unhappy with his situation.

Butterflies were much taken with him, for some reason, and determinedly followed him about in pale yellow clouds, attempting to land in his hair or on his sleeves. A number of snails investigated him with slow suspicion, and the water spirit burbled happily, and the roses posed a number of complicated questions about him to Segundus, which he was not sure he fully understood. Plants had quite a different way of seeing the world, flowers especially, and they seemed to have a great many vague thoughts about roots and blossoms.

"He is not going to put down roots," Segundus told them. "He is not a tree."

He had a clear sense the roses were miffed at him for this answer. He sighed. What extraordinary maintenance roses required! How woundable they were! (The eyebright and marjoram, from either side of the bushes, agreed.)

Meanwhile: "Have we any more of that Madeira cake?" Childermass enquired, wafting away a flurried snowstorm of butterfly wings.

"We?" Segundus repeated. "I do not see what you have done to be hungry!"

Indeed, Childermass was the picture of idleness, with the cuffs of his sleeves rolled to his elbows, shading the sun from his eyes with one hand. At Segundus's words he acquired a lazy, vulpine look and said, "I can change that."

He made to pull Segundus down to him, but Segundus said, exasperated, "Not in the garden!"

So they relocated to the parlour instead, where it was cooler and shady, and where Childermass pushed Segundus gently against one floral wall before simply standing and staring hungrily at him.

Segundus said, his breath coming short, "Is this your idea of labour? I confess it seems sedentary to me, sir."

"Does it," Childermass said.

He drew closer. Still they were not touching. Segundus could feel the heat of him inches away, smell the hint of the sun, the garden's greenness. But Childermass only looked at him with those dark, dark eyes. It was a look that felt like being slowly drunk in.

When at last he touched Segundus, the touch was equally slow: a single hand laid against one side of his face, thumb stroking softly against his chin. Segundus pushed into it, wanting more. But:

"No," Childermass said. "Like this."

He slipped a hand into Segundus's breeches. At the first touch of fingers against his prick, Segundus gasped; he had been hard already. He leaned forwards, but Childermass held him back with the hand gripping his face and watched him intently— watched as Segundus breathed faster, as he flushed, as he twitched. Childermass stroked him unhurriedly. He paused at one point and withdrew his hand— Segundus made a complaining noise— and pressed it to Segundus's mouth. Segundus, after a brief hesitation, met his eyes and then licked the broad palm of it. They did not look away from one another. Segundus let his tongue slide between the fingers, mark out the little lines and dips where proximal phalanges became middle, became distal— he had an anatomical education— Childermass had beautiful hands— and then took the tip of a finger in his mouth, sucking hard.

Childermass took his hand away again, and returned it to its work. His own face was very flushed now. But he moved as carefully as he had before, coaxing Segundus towards louder sounds of pleasure, causing him to drop his head against the wall and clench his fists.

"Oh!" Segundus said, feeling the tension overtake him. His legs were trembling. "I, I, I cannot—" He expelled a huge gasp of breath. He could not focus, through the pleasure, on staying upright. He thought his legs would collapse like pliable reeds.

Still Childermass watched him with that same intensity of focus. It was that— the weight of the desire in his gaze— that made Segundus feel so hot and lightheaded. He pushed forwards into Childermass's hand, making choked noises with every slide against his palm. Childermass closed his hand more tightly, moistening his lips with his tongue. It was that, for some reason, that little motion, the flicker of tongue and the suggestion of hunger in it, that caused Segundus to spasm his hips and arch his back and climax. He spent himself into Childermass's hand.

He did collapse then, or rather slid down the wall, aware that his face must be blotchy with heat and his clothes were a mess. Childermass supported him, joining him on the carpet.

"You have done more for my appetite than your own!" Segundus accused, when at last he had got his breath back.

"Well," Childermass said, looking rather self-satisfied, "I should imagine you know how to remedy that."

And, indeed, Segundus did.

Afterwards— when he had finished using his much-praised mouth to drive Childermass out of nonchalance, and when they had stripped off their much-dirtied clothes, on which Segundus had insisted, and were eating cake and cheese and apples in bed, Segundus said, "I had thought of summoning Miss Absalom, using Mr Strange's spell."

Childermass looked at him very calmly, taking a bite of cheese.

"You do not," Segundus said, "that is— it would not upset you?"

Childermass gazed at an apple thoughtfully. "I should like to resolve the bird problem," he said. "Before I resort to baking them into a pie."

"You cannot cook. Or if you can, you have never revealed it."

"Why should I discourage you from feeding me?" Childermass said archly. Then he continued: "No, it does not upset me. I should be most interested to speak with her. Though I imagine that speaking is not what you had in mind."

Segundus blushed. "That is not it at all!" he protested. "I enjoy Miss Absalom's company! She is a very delightful woman!"

"I'm sure she is," Childermass said, his eyebrows raised. He looked rather amused. "Truly, I do not mind it. She and I have complementary interests, I believe."

"Do you," Segundus said, a little warily.

"Mm." Childermass seemed pleased to be mysterious.

"Well," Segundus said, "I suppose we might just summon her to ask about the birds, and see where other things go from there."

So when they had dressed and put the bed in order, they employed Mr Strange's summoning spell— falling asleep curled comfortably around each other in the afternoon sunlight.

Segundus opened his eyes to find himself back in the garden. He was not, as he usually found himself when he dreamt of the garden, digging a hole. He was pruning an extraordinarily beautiful rosebush, clipping the little dead leaves off of it. It bore a number of remarkable flowers: some some crimson and some an ivory cream colour, others just barely blushed red. He felt extremely proud at the idea that he had grown such a rosebush, though he supposed that the rosebush itself really ought to be awarded the merit.

"You did a bit of work," Miss Absalom said.

Segundus turned to see her smiling at him. She was in a leaf-green dress, one that gave her eyes a very vivid emerald sparkle.

"Hello!" he said to her. "You did come when I called you."

She looked amused. "That is how the spell works, after all."

"You have not been put out of temper, I mean to say. I was not sure if you would be."

"Not at all! Being dead," she said, "is not like you suppose. I can guarantee it. One never runs short of time to do things, and one may quite often be in two places at the same time. The rules are very different. If I did not like you, I should find you a tiresome nuisance, I suppose. But in fact I like you."

"I am glad," Segundus said, a little shyly. Then he looked around. "But where is Childermass? We had intended to ask you a magical question— I do not know where he could have got to—"

The shutters of the kitchen window creaked open, and Childermass leant himself out of them. He was contemplatively eating a small iced cake with a bright pink spun sugar rose on it.

"You have just eaten!" Segundus said in exasperation.

"Your cakes do not have decorations," Childermass noted by way of explanation.

"Then you will not require me to bake you any more."

"I did not say that."

Miss Absalom had pressed a hand to her mouth to muffle her laughter. "Perhaps I ought to change the subject," she said. "What was your question?"

"Oh! We desire to silence a number of birds. They appear to harbour a vendetta. I cannot think why."

She frowned. "Have you asked them?"

"They are very angry," Segundus said doubtfully. "I do not think they would respond."

"One ought always to try that first. If they do not, I can think of a number of solutions. But come here, I have not even kissed you yet!"

He did, and she did: a sweet sharp peck accompanied by a very pleasant embrace. Segundus stroked a hand down the low silk back of her dress. She was so beautiful, he thought, like the summer to Childermass's winter, bright and dazzling where he was darkly joyous. He had not known how he would feel upon seeing her again, and he was surprised at how happy he found himself.

Miss Absalom said over he his shoulder, "And you, John Childermass? How is your reading going?"

Childermass said a little sulkily, "A man may have a holiday, may he not?"

She laughed. "Do not be concerned; I will keep your secret. So long as you do not vex me too much. You ought not to, anyway; after all, you are living in my house now."

Childermass looked subtly alarmed. "You are misinformed," he said. "I am merely staying for the summer."

"Are you," Miss Absalom said. But she did not comment any further on the matter.

"You do not mind?" Segundus asked. His life seemed to be full of these sorts of negotiations lately, trying to settle every person and object in their right place. It was all very complicated. But he felt somehow there was a pattern, if he could only work it out day by day. There was some way to get the little threads to weave together, so that the picture they formed was clear and complete, though he had the faintest sense that he would not quite ever see that picture— that he would go one forever grasping at it, seeing only the smallest, nearest pieces.

"Of course not!" Miss Absalom assured him. "It is your house as well. And we shall get along together."

"And you will still visit me? Because," he said, a little abashed by his honesty, "I would be very sorry to not see you anymore. You have brought me so much delight, and you have taught me so much, and—I should miss you if you were gone."

She looked at him with a great deal of fondness, and a tenderness he had not quite seen before— a very serious form of tenderness. "Dearest John," she said, "shall I ever make you believe in the joy that you bring to other people?"

"You may try," Childermass interjected. "He is very resistant to it."

"Well," Miss Absalom said, "it is real, and I prefer to keep it. Whether or not you choose to bring him—" she gestured towards Childermass with a queenly dismissiveness, but also a hint of laughter— "is your prerogative. I suppose I can tolerate him."

"He is very bad-tempered," Segundus confided. "And he drinks the good wine. But he has his redeeming qualities."

Childermass rolled his eyes, but he was smiling crookedly.

Miss Absalom gazed affectionately at Segundus and kissed him on the cheek. "Go and settle with your birds," she told him. "All is well. I shall visit you when you have more time to sleep, and then—" her eyes flickered along the length of his body, sending a faint erotic jolt through him— "you may settle with me. At length."

Segundus felt his face burning. "I look forward to it," he said.

"Leave a bit of him for me," Childermass commented dryly.

Miss Absalom shot a naughty, flirtatious look at him. "Jealous, darling? Would you like your own arrangement?"

"No, he is mine!" Segundus objected. Then he flinched, realizing the unjustness of this. "That is—"

"You heard the man," Childermass said. He seemed unruffled. In fact, there was perhaps a flash of pleasure when he looked at Segundus, a hint of satisfaction. His eyes lingered. He said, "On that note, if you'll excuse us—"

Miss Absalom flapped her hands. "Oh, go along, if you're not going to let me watch. Go on! Off with you!"

So Childermass made a gesture with his hand, and all at once the dream began sinking around them, in the curious way that magical dreams did. Segundus was aware of a strong sense of Childermass's magic— dark, autumnal, and firelit, like sparks in the blue dusk— and then he was stirring, blinking, waking up in the bed.

He rolled over to find Childermass watching him with sleepy eyes. Childermass laid a heavy hand at the side of his head, and leaned in and kissed him very seriously and slowly. Segundus brought his arms up to pull Childermass towards him, and they lay there warmly tangled in each other's limbs, kissing to no particular purpose as twilight crept slowly across Yorkshire outside the window, and the chorus of outraged birds started up again.

☆ Round Two!

FILL: John Segundus/Maria Absalom, Dream Seduction (9/?)

Re: FILL: John Segundus/Maria Absalom, Dream Seduction (9/?)

Re: FILL: John Segundus/Maria Absalom, Dream Seduction (9/?)

Re: FILL: John Segundus/Maria Absalom, Dream Seduction (9/?)

Re: FILL: John Segundus/Maria Absalom, Dream Seduction (9/?)

Re: FILL: John Segundus/Maria Absalom, Dream Seduction (9/?)

Re: FILL: John Segundus/Maria Absalom, Dream Seduction (9/?)

Re: FILL: John Segundus/Maria Absalom, Dream Seduction (9/?)

Re: FILL: John Segundus/Maria Absalom, Dream Seduction (9/?)

FILL: John Segundus/Maria Absalom, Dream Seduction (10/?)

Re: FILL: John Segundus/Maria Absalom, Dream Seduction (10/?)

Re: FILL: John Segundus/Maria Absalom, Dream Seduction (10/?)

Re: FILL: John Segundus/Maria Absalom, Dream Seduction (10/?)

Re: FILL: John Segundus/Maria Absalom, Dream Seduction (10/?)

Re: FILL: John Segundus/Maria Absalom, Dream Seduction (10/?)

Re: FILL: John Segundus/Maria Absalom, Dream Seduction (10/?)

Re: FILL: John Segundus/Maria Absalom, Dream Seduction (10/?)

FILL: John Segundus/Maria Absalom, Dream Seduction (11/12)

Re: FILL: John Segundus/Maria Absalom, Dream Seduction (11/12)

Re: FILL: John Segundus/Maria Absalom, Dream Seduction (11/12)

Re: FILL: John Segundus/Maria Absalom, Dream Seduction (11/12)

Re: FILL: John Segundus/Maria Absalom, Dream Seduction (11/12)

Re: FILL: John Segundus/Maria Absalom, Dream Seduction (11/12)

Re: FILL: John Segundus/Maria Absalom, Dream Seduction (11/12)

FILL: John Segundus/Maria Absalom, Dream Seduction (12a/12)

FILL: John Segundus/Maria Absalom, Dream Seduction (12b/12)

Re: FILL: John Segundus/Maria Absalom, Dream Seduction (12b/12)

Re: FILL: John Segundus/Maria Absalom, Dream Seduction (12b/12)

Re: FILL: John Segundus/Maria Absalom, Dream Seduction (12b/12)