Work Text:
Locke pushed him against the bookcase.
Books fell off the shelves loudly and thumped onto the marble floors, it was dark and only lit with the faint glow of a single candle on the desk.
Flame dancing.
Cardan Greenbriar was no more but just slightly shorter than him, just about at eye level and that made everything far too intimate. Far too breath-taking.
Cardan didn’t dare to make a sound when he was shoved and Locke hadn’t dare uttered a word himself. Besides a lush and breathless word that he spoke into the ravenette’s lips.
“Cardan”
he tested the name on his tongue, eyes half-lidded and gleamed with amber lust. Lashes scarlet and long over his hooded eyes, his hair bouncing softly with crimson curls.
Cardan put this guard up where he pretended his hands didn’t ache to touch Locke and his cheeks weren’t dusted with crimson.
That his obsidian eyes didn’t hold the same desire that Locke had.
The held this contest of who would break first, who would kiss the other or slip a hand somewhere it shouldn’t be. That person was Cardan surprisingly.
Probably he had gotten frustrated, but he flipped Locke onto his back. More withered books falling into a pile onto the floor, the only thing that was heard was the books, Cardan’s breathing onto Locke’s lips and his heart drumming in his ears.
his back ached slightly from the shove but it hadn’t affected him much, not when Cardan was this close.
and before Locke could make some sly comment on their situation or paint a mischievous smile over his face.
Cardan pressed his lips against his.
Their kiss was open mouthed, they both tasted like strong golden wine and Cardan knocked the breath out of him.
Kissing Cardan had never been like kissing Taryn or kissing Jude or kissing Nicasia or his other various lovers.
Kissing Cardan was like running into a burning house, flames licking your skin and letting the fire engulf you.
Cardan had experience and so did Locke. And so when their tongues swiped each other’s, undignified sounds came from the both of them. Greedy, hungry and satisfying sounds. God, he felt like a needy mortal.
Locke brought both his hands up, one to tangle his fingers and thread them through Cardan’s midnight strands and the other to capture the back of his neck; feeling the thin hairs that resided there.
Both hands there to deepen their passion.
Cardan was quick to tug onto the bottom of Locke’s tucked cotton blouse, probably silently making sure Locke wanted what they were getting into— as if it wasn’t obvious enough when Locke shoved his thigh in between Cardan’s legs. He earned a a high whiny yet, croaky sound from him.
Cardan slipped his slender hand beneath Locke’s blouse, the heat of Cardan’s skin against his burned him in the best possible way— like humid daylight. He shivered against him and pulled away from Cardan’s lips and grunted against his pale neck.
”Cardan, Cardan Ive missed you” he says it uncharacteristically, nothing like usual confident and boisterous Locke.
no, this Locke sounded lovesick and pathetic and needy. A needy mortal. He would most definitely regret what he’d said the next morning when his head was throbbing.
but he needed this. Right here, in this moment with Cardan.
he started to kiss his neck, letting purple blossom on his creamy skin. Cardan threw his head back and muttered beneath his breath and in between more undignified sounds.
“Locke...” he trailed off and started again.
”Locke, you’ve drunken too much, you snake”
he muffled his own soft sounds when Locke started to lick and drag his teeth against Cardan’s collar bone.
”do not deceive me, not when we are like this”
”I am not, I shall never deceive you again, not about my love for you”
Cardan pulled away, flushed and disbelief washed over his face. Locke looked up and then stood up straight. The were both panting and flushed, disheveled and Cardan’s shirt was hanging off his shoulder— shoulder exposed. Locke’s shirt untucked and hair a crimson mess.
”You love me? You sly, sly fox. You do not have an ounce of care for me. Not after Nicasia”
Locke knew Cardan couldn’t believe him. That he was desperate to, but he just couldn’t. Not with the betrayal and hate that seared through their relationship. Because of Locke and his impulsive habits of creating grand and tragical tales. It was his fault.
“We cannot lie, you know that. I have loved you all these years. Do you not remember when we were young? How we loved each other”
Cardan didn’t respond, he just unbottoned Locke’s blouse.
because maybe Cardan could trust Locke again.
and maybe they’ll remember their childhood love.