☆ Round Two!

[jsmn_kink]

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

Comments

FILL: A Bunch of Spoons and a Spork (various ratings and pairings) (6 of 6)

[(Anonymous)]

+1 In Which the Connexion between Feeding & Intimacy is Discussed (Strange/Norrell explicit, but this bit insisted on being pure filth without a feeding element)

Mr Norrell seemed to love to kiss. He lay in Jonathan's arms and soaked up all the attention. He closed his eyes blissfully and enjoyed it. That was as long as they were sitting on the sopha or the chair before the fire, fully-dressed.

Jonathan had assumed that he was one of those strange men who had no interest at all in bedroom-matters. Surely if he had so common a thing as an itch in his breeches (Jonathan was beginning to feel it himself, after being alone for so long) he would not seem contented with kissing.

But one evening he ended up pink-faced and squirming and unmistakably hard, so Jonathan said, "Shall we continue in the bedroom?" Mr Norrell emitted a distressed squeak and sat up.

"If you have no interest in such things, sir, only tell me that I might know." Jonathan had no intention of pushing where he was unwelcome.

Mr Norrell sighed. "Really, Mr Strange, I hardly know myself whether or not I have such desires."

"Not know?" said Jonathan incredulously. For him, attraction had flowed into him as easily as he breathed: the charming friends of his cousins, some people he met at college, Arabella certainly, even Grant on the Peninsula. Love was important, perhaps, but so were liking, and lust, and comfort in another person's company. Perhaps, with all the rest of society to look at, he might never have chanced to see Norrell in that light, but once having seen the human side of him, he was perfectly willing.

"I knew you would not understand. We are so very unlike, sir!"

"Then if I don't understand, you must needs tell me, Gilbert. Don't be afraid, but we have got a long time together, and the more comfortable we are together the better."

"I have never been on particularly good terms with my body," said Mr Norrell. "I often cannot reason out the things it does, let alone the things it does not do."

He explained the nature of his "bad days". This took a while: neither of them were entirely sure of the nature of such things, and some things (like the discomfort Mr Norrell felt on eating particular foods) appeared much more consistent than the disorder of the senses he sometimes had.

"It took me a long time to realise they weren't so bad at home, in Hurtfew," explained Mr Norrell. "When Childermass was there, and the other servants who knew me quite well, all it might take was spending the day alone and in quiet, with nobody making loud noises by me, and by the evening it might well pass off."

"In London you couldn't escape the noise, I suppose," said Jonathan.

Mr Norrell nodded. "The noises, or the textures, or the temperature, or above all the people. It got worse if I was expected to talk to people I did not know." He explained how it had been at its worst, when he had retreated to bed and felt so ill he'd forgotten to eat for a couple of days. "I suppose it might be nervous strain?"

"So you have difficulties with attraction because your senses are unreliable?"

Norrell thought about that. "I was about to tell you how I was nearly attracted," he said. He described how intimate it had felt, having Childermass whispering to him because he couldn't bear noise, and how comforting it had been to be touched and fed when Childermass had helped him.

Jonathan found the idea oddly, startlingly erotic: poor Mr Norrell vulnerable, finally baring his tender stomach awkwardly to the only person he trusted, being given food by the one person who cared enough to take time.

He squeezed Mr Norrell's hand. "I hope you know if you ever have one of your turns here I shall be glad to help you."

"I should have noticed I was attracted to him," said Mr Norrell, "but really I was always so exhausted if I was upset that I couldn't have managed a reaction. I remember thinking, most times he'd soothed me, that I would like to ask him to come to bed and hold me. I should think, if he ever had, I would have woken the next morning in his arms, with some idea of what I would have wanted to do." Mr Norrell looked rather endearingly embarrassed.

"What made you realise you were attracted?" said Jonathan.

"When I met you, Jonathan! I was so plagued with thoughts of kissing, and sometimes my dreams went further." Mr Norrell was blushing again. "And I realised that there were...similarities in the way I'd felt about Childermass.

"How much further?" said Jonathan interestedly. "I'd hate to have an idea that had never even occurred to you, and shock you."

Mr Norrell squeaked again. He leaned close, and said, "Sometimes I touched you...and sometimes you touched me!" He looked shocked by his own daring.

"Touched?" said Jonathan. "You mean, like this?" And he stroked Mr Norrell's arm, then reached down and squeezed his knee.

"Maybe a little more than that," said Mr Norrell, and Jonathan chuckled and said, "or this?" and settled to fondle him in a properly intimate manner. Apparently that much pleasure was enough to make Mr Norrell forget his inhibitions for a while: a little squeezing and stroking made him open his legs and sigh, wriggling to get himself nearer the hand.

"Well, I think the 'attraction' question is sorted-out," said Jonathan. "I seem to have found something that makes you a little warm."

Mr Norrell blushed harder.

"Never feel bad about that, " Jonathan said. "I like to make people happy."

"I wish I'd worn looser clothes!" said Mr Norrell, with a gasp. The front of his breeches was quite distended by now.

"Shall I get you more comfortable?" said Jonathan. He loosened the front fall, and the buttons. He nearly sighed: any one else would simply shove straight out and have at it, but Mr Norrell lay there rather helplessly in the chair, only showing a few admittedly-charming glimpses of a rosy-pink prick as he moved restlessly.

"Well, then, I'll be beside you and we can have some more kissing," said Jonathan.

This time, when Mr Norrell was so determined to concentrate on the kissing he seemed less-troubled by worrying about his virtue, Jonathan gave him a good, deep, long, kiss, at the same time as reaching in to curl his hand round him.

Mr Norrell finally seemed to give in, thrusting tongue against tongue and prick into fist with an utter lack of care for dignity and respectability. Jonathan had to keep drawing back to let the man breathe: Norrell showed every sign that he might forget to. And whenever Jonathan paused for breath, he could see Norrell's face: scarlet and slightly-crazed and careless of anything but the quest for pleasure.

Jonathan rocked against him, did his best to show wordlessly that it was all all right, that Mr Norrell could let go and enjoy it, and then Norrell gave a long sobbing moan and went rigid as he spent.

Then Mr Norrell held him close for a while, whispering breathless thanks and apologies for being messy all at once. Jonathan let him, feeling Mr Norrell needed the chance to express himself and make a recover, but when the words ran out, Jonathan hugged him, and said, "I don't mind at all. I enjoyed it."

Mr Norrell looked at him as if to say, "but that was for my benefit".

"I liked it too," said Jonathan. "If you've had a little rest, we can take our clothes off and I'll show you what I mean.

Mr Norrell looked at him dubiously. "If you say so, Mr Strange."

"You can call me Jonathan. We've had a bit of an introduction right there."

Mr Norrell sighed, and scrambled awkwardly out of his clothes. Jonathan could see he'd been accustomed to servants by the way he was making such heavy weather of it.

He wanted to help, but doubted it would be at all gracefully received, so took his own clothes off instead. "You can see it got me aroused doing that to you." He stroked himself a little.

Mr Norrell couldn't take his eyes off him. "I can't see why."

"Are you objecting to my taste, Gilbert?"

"It's only that you're so very beautiful and I am not," Mr Norrell said.

"I'm a magician, I can't exactly do it looking at myself in the mirror!" said Jonathan. Whether or not they were currently under other stars, he could never quite rely on a mirror being just a mirror, and he would feel unpleasantly vulnerable naked before something that might as well be a portal.

"I wish you hadn't said that, Jonathan," said Mr Norrell. "So far I have contrived to dress and straighten my wig in front of mirrors quite as though they were merely commonplace articles."

Jonathan gave him a hug. "I've seen no signs that the mirrors here are used, or "awake" if we ourselves are not using them. But since I saw the King's Roads I have found the possibility hard to ignore."

Mr Norrell seemed quite taken with being hugged. "Would you mind if...would you mind if I touched you?" he whispered shyly.

"I'd mind a lot more if you didn't!" said Jonathan frankly.

Mr Norrell sighed and put his hand there, settling on a delicate tugging, nervous as a maiden lady might be about how much was too much.

"Do it like I did it to you," said Jonathan. "Harder than that."

Mr Norrell clutched him in a shaking hand, still not very hard. He used no art, and barely any common-sense. Jonathan swallowed a sigh of displeasure and said, "Kiss me?" That wasn't what he really wanted, but he didn't want to frighten the man into fits.

After a little kissing, Mr Norrell drew back and glared at him. "I'm doing the wrong thing," he said. "I cannot help you if I do not know what I should be doing."

Jonathan said, "I only thought sticking to the same thing would be less likely to make you nervous."

"So what do you like?"

"Oh, much harder than that," said Jonathan, but found it was less-than-relaxing looking at the grimly-determined look on Norrell's face and feeling him doing his awkward best to squeeze. No grease, no rhythm, no confidence.

After a few minutes, Mr Norrell took his hand away. Jonathan yelped, "No!" because he didn't want that either, and looked straight at Norrell's "problem-solving" expression.

"I want to watch you," said Mr Norrell. "I want to know what to do."

So Jonathan had a go at handling himself, but what he really wanted was a bit smoother.

Rather beyond shame, Jonathan said, "Have you got any grease? Oil? Soft stuff?"

Norrell said. "Hand cream. In the bathroom. Wait here." Evidently he uses hand cream for hands, Jonathan thought, and virtuously kept his hands off himself.

Mr Norrell came back and let him help himself to a dollop of grease, his little eyes clearly calculating everything from how much to use, to how hard to squeeze, to how fast to go, as Jonathan set to work on himself. It was wonderfully stimulating to be the object of such intense attention, and Jonathan moaned happily and made a show of it, going harder and slower than he might on his own.

Jonathan nearly didn't stop, but at the last moment took his hands off, panting furiously. "Nearly there!" he gasped. "Now you do it!"

Mr Norrell wasn't quite innocent enough to miss the point of that. This time, he used both hands, and used them hard, just what Jonathan needed, no holding back, and Jonathan howled with pleasure and came off, with a long shudder of delight.

Once he could breathe again, Jonathan said, "Thank you!"

Mr Norrell made a face. "It must be unpleasant that way, with something cold and messy on you."

"Come here and I'll show you why people bother," said Jonathan.

Mr Norrell said, "As long as you don't mind when I don't like it and it's too soon to try and I'm too old to manage and..." and caught himself on a long ragged breath as Jonathan slid a hand round him. Apparently helpless against it, Norrell thrust.

"Not too bad, is it?" said Jonathan, appreciating the evidence that Mr Norrell wasn't indifferent to the smooth tight warm glide of it.

Norrell groaned.

"Should I stop?"

Norrell shoved harder into his hand to get the pace up, so Jonathan went at it a bit heavier.

"Is that enough for you, Gilbert?" He looked at the wild look on Mr Norrell's face, and listened to the panting breaths, then leaned closer and squeezed while he whispered into his ear, "come on then." Which was apparently enough of a gentle hint to bring him off. It left him looking so blissful, and so breathless, that Jonathan's only response was a kiss.

"How does that compare to your dreams?" he asked.

Mr Norrell gave him a slightly wobbly grin and said, "Oh, much more interesting!"

"There are plenty of other things we can do as well," said Jonathan.

"Now?" said Mr Norrell, sounding slightly panicked.

"Not if you're not ready," said Jonathan, with another hug. "I bet you're cold like that, though. Since it may as well be night, let's go to bed and you can have a nice warm sleep and then we'll see how we feel in the morning."

Mr Norrell assented to this, although he insisted on a bit of clean-up first.

They chastely spooned all night, Mr Norrell snuggled close in the warmth of Jonathan's longer limbs and body, although (considering Jonathan had only been pleasured once, and found the sleeping position quite stimulating) in the morning the outer "spoon" had developed a curious shape.

In the morning-that-wasn't Jonathan took advantage of this for some comfortable slow frotting against Mr Norrell's bum, lazy and happy, except Norrell was objecting to something again.

"Oh what now?" said Jonathan. "I was enjoying that."

"Well, quite!" said Mr Norrell crossly. "If you rolled over so I could get at you we could both do it."

"What sort of monster have I created?" said Jonathan, not-entirely-seriously, as he complied.

"If that's meant to imply I'm too greedy," said Mr Norrell, blushing again, "you're the one who encouraged me so thoroughly."

"Quite right," said Jonathan, and pulled them close together face-to-face for a nice rub. The result of this was entirely satisfactory for both parties.

Afterwards, Jonathan said, "I would never have believed I might care for someone after my wife."

Mr Norrell said, "I would never have believed I would ever have more comfort than what Childermass did for me.

Jonathan might have teased him for equating comfort with affection, except he was beginning to be sure poor Norrell had only felt able to ask for comfort, and only when he was very ill.

So he kissed him, trying to make it clear without words that, yes, he was here, and no, Norrell did not have to manage on his own.

Apparently Norrell wanted affection, because he lay there kissing and cuddling for five or ten minutes before complaining about the mess and wanting a bath.

Jonathan didn't mind that at all.

Re: FILL: A Bunch of Spoons and a Spork (various ratings and pairings) (6 of 6)

[(Anonymous)]

I really liked these, but my absolute favorite was the Emma/Arabella! I can never get enough of that ship and it was so, so sweet and lovely and affectionate. My girls. Arabella talking about "that's something gentlemen require" ahhhhh bless. I love it. I'm so happy.

Re: FILL: A Bunch of Spoons and a Spork (various ratings and pairings) (6 of 6)

[(Anonymous)]

I love the way the Childermass and Strange episodes book-end this series. Clueless Norrell becoming quite randy and wanting more the more he gets under Strange's tutelage is charming. These lines:

"What sort of monster have I created?" said Jonathan, not-entirely-seriously, as he complied.

"If that's meant to imply I'm too greedy," said Mr Norrell, blushing again, "you're the one who encouraged me so thoroughly."

Norrell managing to be quite greedy and blame it all on Strange is great. Bickering and embarrassment and heat make an excellent combination! Thanks for writing and posting!