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skull_bearerYes, I'm back, and I bring fic (sort of), okay, I bring meme. Warning, much sap and cavity making sweetness.
1- Their first night in Solace. Dalamar hadn't slept in a bed in two years and it was bliss. Their lovemaking had been different that night, gentle, much tenderer than their frenzied couplings on the road. He had lain back, and let Raistlin explore him in the candlelight. Letting him learn every inch of his body, what he liked, what he didn't like, what made him scream and what just made him uncomfortable.
Watching as Raistlin bent over him- nervous, uncertain, but wanting to touch him, to return the pleasures Dalamar had shown him on the road- Dalamar had felt a deep tug inside him, something he only later recognised as love.
At the time, he'd passed it off as lust, and indeed Raistlin had looked delicious, with the candlelight playing on his pale skin, his hair burning with dark fire, and those incredible fingers burning their way down his chest, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.
2- The first time Raistlin made love to him. It had been difficult for Dalamar, the memories of Tarsis were too raw and even the thought of being taken like that made him wince, for all that he knew Raistlin would never do anything like that to him. He'd tried to hide his fears, but must have failed, because he knew Raistlin had seen how much this bothered him.
He'd gone ahead anyway, and had started kissing him. He'd kissed his hands, his arms, chest, neck and face, brushing those soft lips over his body, cleaning him with his kisses the way no water ever would. By the end Dalamar was drenched in sweat and trembling, unbearably aroused but at the same time almost reluctant, near begging Raistlin to end this torture yet longing for it to go on forever.
When Raistlin had entered him, hesitant and tender, he'd cried out. When he started to thrust inside him, he'd begged shamelessly. And when Raistlin finally came inside him, Dalamar had come in the same heartbeat.
He was grateful that Raistlin had slumped on top of him almost immediately and fallen asleep, because had he so much as smiled at him then, that wonderful smile that always made Dalamar's heart jump, he didn't think he could have held back tears. Raistlin really did know him far too well, well enough to know just what he wanted, even if he himself didn't.
That had been the night he'd decided. This had gone too far to be put off any longer. Either he left now, without a word, without a farewell, for either would be his undoing, or he stayed. He'd feared this moment, because Dalamar knew that if he stayed, he would have -at best- sixty years with Raistlin. Such a short time, such a perilously short time. And then to see your lover grow old and die, and deal with the heartbreak that would follow. After exile, Dalamar really didn't know if he could survive another loss.
And then Dalamar had smiled, because he knew he had left it too late and was glad for it. He should have left Raistlin on the road, should never have followed him here, because he could now no more leave Raistlin than he could abandon the magic or renounce Nuitari. It was far too late.
He'd closed his eyes, pressed himself close to his sleeping lover, and fallen asleep without another thought.
3- The first time Raistlin said he loved him. Despite the fact that this was a few days after he'd decided not to leave, this just drove home why. It felt as though something inside him had burst; warm, liquid joy filling him like water from a pitcher. He'd never felt anything like that before, nor so keenly. The thrill of casting might echo lovemaking, but nothing Dalamar had ever felt before could prepare him for this. He'd known that this was a risk, that to enjoy this now was only setting him up for enbearable pain later. Love was a weakness, but dear Nuitari, it was worth it.
4- The day after Raistlin had made that remark in the armed camp. Dalamar hadn't seen him for most of the day- hadn't wanted to see him. The young mage's thoughtlessly cruel words echoed in his mind, and when Raistlin had come to find him, he had snarled at him, pouring out his rage at him. Raistlin hadn't spoken, there was no apology he could make with words that Dalamar would accept. Instead, he'd offered the only apology he could. He'd waited until Dalamar had stopped, and stripped in front of him. The only apology Raistlin could make, the only one Dalamar would accept. To lay himself bare and let Dalamar do as he would with him, to offer himself in the very way he found so shameful and let Dalamar take him.
He hadn't. He'd pulled the young mage into his arms, kissed him, held him as Raistlin whispered how sorry he was, offering a comfort he himslef had never recieved.
5- Sometimes, Dalamar thinks that the day he knew he would never leave, the one moment that doomed and blessed him in the same heartbeat was the very moment he met Raistlin for the first time. Because really, how else could it be? Who else could be was incredible, as talented, as wise and smart and who echoed his soul with every heartbeat? No matter how it could have met, this would be the way it would end, because some things are just meant to be.
Watching as Raistlin bent over him- nervous, uncertain, but wanting to touch him, to return the pleasures Dalamar had shown him on the road- Dalamar had felt a deep tug inside him, something he only later recognised as love.
At the time, he'd passed it off as lust, and indeed Raistlin had looked delicious, with the candlelight playing on his pale skin, his hair burning with dark fire, and those incredible fingers burning their way down his chest, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.
2- The first time Raistlin made love to him. It had been difficult for Dalamar, the memories of Tarsis were too raw and even the thought of being taken like that made him wince, for all that he knew Raistlin would never do anything like that to him. He'd tried to hide his fears, but must have failed, because he knew Raistlin had seen how much this bothered him.
He'd gone ahead anyway, and had started kissing him. He'd kissed his hands, his arms, chest, neck and face, brushing those soft lips over his body, cleaning him with his kisses the way no water ever would. By the end Dalamar was drenched in sweat and trembling, unbearably aroused but at the same time almost reluctant, near begging Raistlin to end this torture yet longing for it to go on forever.
When Raistlin had entered him, hesitant and tender, he'd cried out. When he started to thrust inside him, he'd begged shamelessly. And when Raistlin finally came inside him, Dalamar had come in the same heartbeat.
He was grateful that Raistlin had slumped on top of him almost immediately and fallen asleep, because had he so much as smiled at him then, that wonderful smile that always made Dalamar's heart jump, he didn't think he could have held back tears. Raistlin really did know him far too well, well enough to know just what he wanted, even if he himself didn't.
That had been the night he'd decided. This had gone too far to be put off any longer. Either he left now, without a word, without a farewell, for either would be his undoing, or he stayed. He'd feared this moment, because Dalamar knew that if he stayed, he would have -at best- sixty years with Raistlin. Such a short time, such a perilously short time. And then to see your lover grow old and die, and deal with the heartbreak that would follow. After exile, Dalamar really didn't know if he could survive another loss.
And then Dalamar had smiled, because he knew he had left it too late and was glad for it. He should have left Raistlin on the road, should never have followed him here, because he could now no more leave Raistlin than he could abandon the magic or renounce Nuitari. It was far too late.
He'd closed his eyes, pressed himself close to his sleeping lover, and fallen asleep without another thought.
3- The first time Raistlin said he loved him. Despite the fact that this was a few days after he'd decided not to leave, this just drove home why. It felt as though something inside him had burst; warm, liquid joy filling him like water from a pitcher. He'd never felt anything like that before, nor so keenly. The thrill of casting might echo lovemaking, but nothing Dalamar had ever felt before could prepare him for this. He'd known that this was a risk, that to enjoy this now was only setting him up for enbearable pain later. Love was a weakness, but dear Nuitari, it was worth it.
4- The day after Raistlin had made that remark in the armed camp. Dalamar hadn't seen him for most of the day- hadn't wanted to see him. The young mage's thoughtlessly cruel words echoed in his mind, and when Raistlin had come to find him, he had snarled at him, pouring out his rage at him. Raistlin hadn't spoken, there was no apology he could make with words that Dalamar would accept. Instead, he'd offered the only apology he could. He'd waited until Dalamar had stopped, and stripped in front of him. The only apology Raistlin could make, the only one Dalamar would accept. To lay himself bare and let Dalamar do as he would with him, to offer himself in the very way he found so shameful and let Dalamar take him.
He hadn't. He'd pulled the young mage into his arms, kissed him, held him as Raistlin whispered how sorry he was, offering a comfort he himslef had never recieved.
5- Sometimes, Dalamar thinks that the day he knew he would never leave, the one moment that doomed and blessed him in the same heartbeat was the very moment he met Raistlin for the first time. Because really, how else could it be? Who else could be was incredible, as talented, as wise and smart and who echoed his soul with every heartbeat? No matter how it could have met, this would be the way it would end, because some things are just meant to be.
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Date: 2007-04-24 05:27 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-24 06:54 pm (UTC)