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Aah, this is quite bad, isn't it. Serpico's expression remains as calm and placid as ever as he steps out of the carriage. But unseen, his thoughts churn as he gazes over the mess strewn about the narrow mountain pass.
This was supposed to be a straightforward journey to one of the border duchies to assist in negotiations and delivery messages, so it had seemed appropriate to bring only a small handful of servants and guards, leaving the rest to assist with keeping his estate running. How was he to know that a group of bandits had just started roaming the area, just waiting to ambush them?
Serpico sighs as he circles around the dead horses, the littered corpses of bandits and servants alike, and glances at the broken wheel to the carriage before looking off the edge of the pass. They're a long way from the base of the mountain, and further still from any towns or settlements. To his knowledge, this isn't a very commonly-traveled path, either. He gives a soft hum in thought before turning to the only other man still alive -- his guard. Or rather, his bodyguard-cum-executioner.
"I hope you haven't been injured in the skirmish?"
He asks it politely enough because it's the proper thing to do, but they both know that Lon'qu is completely untouched. After all, the higher council wouldn't have assigned this man to watch over him unless he was exceedingly skilled. Lon'qu could probably fight off a mob twice this size without breaking a sweat, Serpico imagines.
This was supposed to be a straightforward journey to one of the border duchies to assist in negotiations and delivery messages, so it had seemed appropriate to bring only a small handful of servants and guards, leaving the rest to assist with keeping his estate running. How was he to know that a group of bandits had just started roaming the area, just waiting to ambush them?
Serpico sighs as he circles around the dead horses, the littered corpses of bandits and servants alike, and glances at the broken wheel to the carriage before looking off the edge of the pass. They're a long way from the base of the mountain, and further still from any towns or settlements. To his knowledge, this isn't a very commonly-traveled path, either. He gives a soft hum in thought before turning to the only other man still alive -- his guard. Or rather, his bodyguard-cum-executioner.
"I hope you haven't been injured in the skirmish?"
He asks it politely enough because it's the proper thing to do, but they both know that Lon'qu is completely untouched. After all, the higher council wouldn't have assigned this man to watch over him unless he was exceedingly skilled. Lon'qu could probably fight off a mob twice this size without breaking a sweat, Serpico imagines.
aaaa sorry i never got this notif
"You speak as if you know my words will hold no weight in the future."
It's as close as he'll come to openly accusing Lon'qu of being what he is -- an assassin just waiting for the signal to make the kill.
It's in sharp contrast to the way he lets his coat and overshirt drop to the ground, though he pauses for a moment, then keeps his ruined tunic hanging open over his shoulders.
"I'd rather not remove this." It shouldn't matter too much, he thinks.
notifocalypse 2020 strikes again...
Even Serpico can’t escape his blade forever. And Lon’qu has to force himself to look away as Serpico undresses, trying not to stare down each patch of exposed skin, because he knows he’s not sizing the man up for the kill, but for something else entirely.
He can feel that strange brand burning all the hotter upon his skin.
“I don’t care. Let us be done with this.”
He tries to make a big show by saying that, but even now he’s finding it difficult to meet Serpico’s eyes. He doesn’t know the first thing about having sex—no, that’s not true. He’s lived in the streets for long enough and lived with other mercenaries long enough to know all those niggling little details. But hearing about such things and putting them into practice is a little…it’s not something he wants to admit to.
With an effort, he lifts up a hand to reach for Serpico—to touch him, draw him closer, his whole body trembling with unwonted anticipation. Gods, he hates this, hates how much he wants this and hates how hard it is for him to make that first step. Someone like Serpico’s probably sampled plenty of such pleasures already, while here Lon’qu finds himself lost and alone in an ironic twist of fate.
But his hand stops partway, causing him to hastily withdraw it with a muttered curse.
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Strained so tight against the curse's effects, he's tense as a bowstring when Lon'qu reaches for him -- and flinches when the hand halts halfway there.
His kneejerk response is a low huff of frustration. And then he hates himself for being frustrated, for wanting that hand to make contact and relieve him of the curse's burn. The longer this goes, the worse the circumstances are. Serpico closes his eyes and exhales slowly, brow knitted.
Then he steps forward, throwing his arms over Lon'qu's neck to pull him close for a kiss.
If Lon'qu was expecting any sort of sultry grace, he'll be disappointed. What Serpico makes is a pragmatic gesture, and a surprisingly rough one; even as he deepens the kiss, trying to drown out his doubts with the heat exuding from that curse, he drags Lon'qu back two, three steps until he can lean back against a tree. Purely for practical reasons. His legs already feel wobbly, and he's in no mood to topple over backwards.
He pulls back for air after a moment, and gives Lon'qu a look that the other's never seen from him before -- sharp, vicious, and cold. It's at odds with his unfailingly polite tone of voice.
"'Let us be done with this,' yes?"
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He wants this. By the gods, he wants this, and that want tugs him forward as surely as Serpico does, until even Lon’qu has to grace an arm against the trunk of the tree to steady himself. The fact that it’s not some dainty little peck like he’d expected from a spoiled noble does occur to him, but only for a moment, the thought far too fleeting and too unimportant in light of that kiss—harsh and heated and aggressive and just the way, he’s realized, he likes it.
When Serpico pulls away he gasps, staring dumbly at Serpico’s lips, realizing too that he’d bitten them more than he’d intended, before his gaze ratchets upward. He remembers to breathe.
And he frowns, flushing up to his ears. The nerve of this bastard.
“You’re not easy to like.” It’s probably the nicest thing he’ll every say to Serpico, but any more provocation and he might reach for his sword after all.
Some part of him thrills at the thought, and not in any way that he considers normal.
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Even if he's had the company of women before, it's never been like this, not even the most heated moments. Is it just because of the curse? ... no, there has to be more than that. Maybe it's the fact that Lon'qu is a very real threat to him, and his heightened awareness makes every touch and movement feel all the more vivid. Or maybe it's the sheer strength and viciousness he can feel wound tight in Lon'qu's body, especially evident now that they're in such close company.
"So I've been told."
Serpico smiles, but there's no hiding the flush to his cheeks, the way his breathing is a little rougher now.
"Come closer. It's cold."
And he's never liked the cold. His arms tug insistently at Lon'qu's shoulders, dragging him closer, fingers drifting up to toy with the longer strands of his hair before nails drag lightly against the back of his neck. A needling gesture. Daring Lon'qu to do something, too.
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And somehow he doesn’t feel as bad about it as he might have been.
“And you’re the experienced one between us.” He thinks. “So how should I”—clicking his tongue—“touch you?”
But this is as good as admitting that he’s never really done it, and he’s not sure he wants to know how Serpico feels about that. Or rather, he feels far too much excitement at whatever reaction he’s anticipating from this nobleman, who really isn’t quite what he seems, is he?
One thing Lon’qu knows for sure: just because he’s inexperienced doesn’t mean he wants to rut like animals out here. They’ll conduct this properly, if they must do this at all.