"I just want us." He steps forward, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "I want to build something with you." If anything, he wants to make this a perfect memory for her, as she's likely to live longer than him. He doesn't want her to burden herself for something she perceives as benefiting him. "What would make this a perfect memory for you?"
"You've said you want to do things 'properly' with poetry and candles and a full production."
Harley curls her hands in the front of his shirt and presses soft kisses to the corner of his mouth. Tucking them away like little secrets that he can save for later.
"All I need for this to be perfect is for it to actually happen."
He did do that, didn't he? Poetry and perfection. He was always so
concerned with being impressive, powerful and intelligent and charming,
that it never occured to him that it might be burdensome for anyone else,
that she might feel the need to contribute to the tableau.
"I did, I do, but you are so much more important than any of that." With
the little box in hand again, he takes a step back so that he can drop down
to one knee.
"Yes!" She says it before his knee even touches the ground, and presses her fingers against her grin to hold back any further outbursts. She gestures for him to keep going. She's bouncing on her toes from excitement that can't be held in.
Gale has to purse his lips to pin the grin trying to overtake his expression. This moment deserves at least a modicum of seriousness.
"Harley... you must know how special you are to me. I never expected my salvation to burst into my life so unexpectedly, but in the darkest night of my life, you have been my moon. You have shaken me to my foundations and reminded me why life is worth living. You are the strongest, cleverest, most beautiful person I've ever known. A moment with you could sate me for a lifetime, yet I am greedy enough to now ask for more. I could go on and on forever, of course, and yet... No sonnet could ever really do you justice. A hundred sonnets wouldn't begin to scratch the surface of what I feel. And besides that, I fear you're going to vibrate right off the balcony if I don't get to the point. So for once in my life, let me be brief."
He pauses to take a steeling breath -- mostly just to make her wait for it a moment longer. Slowly, he opens the little box to reveal a ring, grinning up at her as he does.
"I love you more than I've ever loved anyone, mortal or immortal, and you've proven your love for me in more ways than even the greatest mathematicians would dare to count. I wonder, would you do me the very great honor of marrying me?"
He nearly topples to his side, unbalanced on one knee as he is, laughing a
little, but he tangles his limbs up with hers, kissing back eagerly. They
may not have forever, but they do have now, and that can be enough.
"Help me up, please? Or get down here with me. Either way, be still a
moment so I may put this ring on your finger."
She helps him stand, but being still is entirely beyond her. He'll have to get the ring on her hand while she's trying to kiss all the thoughts out of his head. It's an ambitious goal, which will take quite a lot of kissing to accomplish.
Gale has nimble fingers, and somehow, he does manage to get the ring on the
appropriate finger without ever breaking contact. It's a magic trick all on
its own.
That done, he wraps both arms around her, pulling her against him and
devoting all his attention to her ambitions to kiss him senseless.
Harley moves her hands to his hip and guides him while they kiss until he hits the bench, and she can maneuver him into sitting and perch on his lap. Once she has to pause to breathe, she finally gets to look at the ring. She holds out her hand to admire the way it glints off her finger and sighs dreamily.
"Yes," she says again. Just in case he didn't hear her the other four times.
His hands land on her hips, holding her close while he watches her
reaction. "Do you like it? I wasn't sure... We can get a different one, if
you prefer." That's the part he was a little nervous about, never doubting
that she would say yes, but worried he might have picked an ugly ring
without knowing.
"It's perfect." She kisses his cheek. "You're perfect." A kiss to the side of his neck. "This is almost perfect."
She moves his hands away her hips and slips off his lap to sink to her knees between his legs. She bats her eyes up at him and runs her tongue over her lip.
He purses his lips on a smile. "It's incredibly difficult to say no to you, but I suppose you knew that." It's dangerous. It's a bad idea. It isn't worth the risk. He reaches out to cradle her face in his palms. "You have to stop immediately if I say so," he says, "And I should think I deserve the opportunity for reciprocation after?"
"Yes," she promises. "Anything you say." Her skin feels like shimmering starlight where he touches and she kisses his fingers. Mouths the pulse at his wrist. Her slim fingers untuck his shirt and slide under the fabric to caress his sides.
"Thank you," she whispers against his knee. She looks up at him with hungry eyes as she leans in to unlace his trousers with her teeth. Her fingers curl in the waistline of his trouser and she rolls them down, urging him to lift his hips off the bench so she can strip him. She lets him keep his underclothes for now.
Her teeth press to the side of his knee and trail hot open kisses up the inside of his thigh then back down the other thigh. She avoids touching his cock through the last layer of fabric between them. She's going to draw this out as long as she can.
"I'm not sure you're the one who should be thanking m—oh." His eyes
to wide when she undoes his pants with her teeth. He's quick to shimmy out
of his pants with her assistance, confused at first why his underwear get
left behind. It becomes clear once she stays kissing his thighs (and only
his thighs). His legs shift further open, encouraging. For a moment, he
holds his breath in anticipation, but a kiss to a particularly sensitive
stretch of inner thigh makes a bright pop of laughter escape him as his leg
twitches reflexively. "Sorry, sorry! Please continue," he says, hoping not
to ruin the mood for her. To make up for it, he shifts his hips forward and
lights his hand on her hair, gently encouraging her to continue.
She giggles when he does, mood far from ruined. Her mouth goes back to that spot and lingers, nipping and sucking, while her hands stroke the tops of his thighs. It feels like an age before she finally, finally turns her attention to the apex of his thighs. Her breath is hot against the fabric and her mouth is soft and welcoming. She looks up at him as she fawns over his cock. There's not enough rhythm for it to be anything more than a tease, urging him to hardness.
Every time she touches his ticklish spot his thigh jerks involuntarily, but he doesn't laugh again, sensitivity and anticipation turning it into an erogenous zone. That's not a place he ever realized he could enjoy being kissed; no one has ever taken the time to try it before.
By the time she trails her way back up his thighs, his breath is already shallow and ragged. She bats her twinkly blue eyes up at him while she teases and oh, he's doomed but at least it's a blissful doom. "My beautiful, clever minx, gods, I never knew you were so good at torture." He squirms as she gets him hard, trying and failing to sit still.
Harley grins against his skin and grips his hips in deceptively strong hands to keep him still. She hums and moves her worshipful kisses to his stomach.
"I think you knew," she says. "I think you've been longing for it."
Her fingers curl in the waistband of the last garment between them and she tugs the fabric down. Her eyes go dark and hungry at the sight of him hard and eager for her mouth. She's seen him naked and aroused before, but there's a new thrill to it now that she's finally about to taste him. She breathes out a moan just from the anticipation, and licks a hot stripe from sac to tip.
"Gods, you're beautiful. So yummy."
Her breath comes out in a shudder and she moans again when she dips her head again. Her tongue works his cock in teasing little kitten licks, too uneven and soft for any kind of release.
"You always see through me," he breathes, voice as ragged as a pirate flag,
"I can't stop thinking about it, longing for it, for any touch you're
willing to give me, of course, but the way you look at me sets me ablaze."
She has his hips held tight, and he can't squirm or back away, and somehow
that's even more thrilling. Let him be entirely in her hands.
It has been a while since he did this last, and if he only counts those
intimate experiences on the mortal plane, then it has been far longer. Even
her breath against his sensitive skin makes his cock twitch pleadingly.
When she licks him he gasps, abs contacting and hips rocking involuntarily.
With her eyes turned to watch his face, she presses soft lips to the tip of his cock. A sweet chaste kiss in any other context, but there's the tense promise of more behind it. Her mouth opens to take in the head, her tongue rolling over heated flesh and suckling like he's a perfectly ripe fruit.
Her eyes on him make everything that much more intense. Her grip on his hips keep him from squirming, but she can still feel the tension in his thighs on either side of her. She finally gets her mouth on him and his head drops back as he moans. His fingers scratch at the bench on either side of him like he's trying to grab fistfuls of sheet that aren't there. "Please," he breathes, though it's not clear whether he's pleading for more or less.
She's barely done anything, but her expression is already starry-eyed and cock-drunk. Harley has been longing to taste him this way since their first kiss, and her head is spinning with giddiness at finding new ways to fill her senses with him.
Her tongue rolls against his cock as she eases the length of him past her lips, until he fits perfectly down her throat. Her nose pressed to his abdomen. She holds him there, stays perfectly still, letting him acclimate to new sensations so they don't overwhelm him too fast.
Gale's breath is quick and hitching, and he makes a concerted effort to
take deep, slow breaths. The light of the orb traces up from his neck, and
though it isn't very visible out here in the sunshine, he can feel it like
a pressure in his chest. "This is so dangerous," he says, and he means for
it to sound like a warning, but his voice comes out a deep rumble that does
little to hide exactly how thrilling he finds a brush with danger to be. He
runs his fingertips over her hair, again and again, soothing himself with
repetitive motion. "Seeing you on your knees like this for me... Gods, you
are a vision." Maybe his last vision, of they keep this up.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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"For me?" He asks, tilting his head a little in her grasp. "Not for us? What about you?"
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"Do you want something else? Something different?"
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Harley curls her hands in the front of his shirt and presses soft kisses to the corner of his mouth. Tucking them away like little secrets that he can save for later.
"All I need for this to be perfect is for it to actually happen."
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He did do that, didn't he? Poetry and perfection. He was always so concerned with being impressive, powerful and intelligent and charming, that it never occured to him that it might be burdensome for anyone else, that she might feel the need to contribute to the tableau.
"I did, I do, but you are so much more important than any of that." With the little box in hand again, he takes a step back so that he can drop down to one knee.
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"Harley... you must know how special you are to me. I never expected my salvation to burst into my life so unexpectedly, but in the darkest night of my life, you have been my moon. You have shaken me to my foundations and reminded me why life is worth living. You are the strongest, cleverest, most beautiful person I've ever known. A moment with you could sate me for a lifetime, yet I am greedy enough to now ask for more. I could go on and on forever, of course, and yet... No sonnet could ever really do you justice. A hundred sonnets wouldn't begin to scratch the surface of what I feel. And besides that, I fear you're going to vibrate right off the balcony if I don't get to the point. So for once in my life, let me be brief."
He pauses to take a steeling breath -- mostly just to make her wait for it a moment longer. Slowly, he opens the little box to reveal a ring, grinning up at her as he does.
"I love you more than I've ever loved anyone, mortal or immortal, and you've proven your love for me in more ways than even the greatest mathematicians would dare to count. I wonder, would you do me the very great honor of marrying me?"
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"Yes!" she says against his lips when she remembers what she's supposed to do. "Yes every day, every moment. Yes forever."
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He nearly topples to his side, unbalanced on one knee as he is, laughing a little, but he tangles his limbs up with hers, kissing back eagerly. They may not have forever, but they do have now, and that can be enough.
"Help me up, please? Or get down here with me. Either way, be still a moment so I may put this ring on your finger."
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Gale has nimble fingers, and somehow, he does manage to get the ring on the appropriate finger without ever breaking contact. It's a magic trick all on its own.
That done, he wraps both arms around her, pulling her against him and devoting all his attention to her ambitions to kiss him senseless.
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"Yes," she says again. Just in case he didn't hear her the other four times.
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His hands land on her hips, holding her close while he watches her reaction. "Do you like it? I wasn't sure... We can get a different one, if you prefer." That's the part he was a little nervous about, never doubting that she would say yes, but worried he might have picked an ugly ring without knowing.
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She moves his hands away her hips and slips off his lap to sink to her knees between his legs. She bats her eyes up at him and runs her tongue over her lip.
"Please? Please, can I?"
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"Thank you," she whispers against his knee. She looks up at him with hungry eyes as she leans in to unlace his trousers with her teeth. Her fingers curl in the waistline of his trouser and she rolls them down, urging him to lift his hips off the bench so she can strip him. She lets him keep his underclothes for now.
Her teeth press to the side of his knee and trail hot open kisses up the inside of his thigh then back down the other thigh. She avoids touching his cock through the last layer of fabric between them. She's going to draw this out as long as she can.
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"I'm not sure you're the one who should be thanking m—oh." His eyes to wide when she undoes his pants with her teeth. He's quick to shimmy out of his pants with her assistance, confused at first why his underwear get left behind. It becomes clear once she stays kissing his thighs (and only his thighs). His legs shift further open, encouraging. For a moment, he holds his breath in anticipation, but a kiss to a particularly sensitive stretch of inner thigh makes a bright pop of laughter escape him as his leg twitches reflexively. "Sorry, sorry! Please continue," he says, hoping not to ruin the mood for her. To make up for it, he shifts his hips forward and lights his hand on her hair, gently encouraging her to continue.
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By the time she trails her way back up his thighs, his breath is already shallow and ragged. She bats her twinkly blue eyes up at him while she teases and oh, he's doomed but at least it's a blissful doom. "My beautiful, clever minx, gods, I never knew you were so good at torture." He squirms as she gets him hard, trying and failing to sit still.
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"I think you knew," she says. "I think you've been longing for it."
Her fingers curl in the waistband of the last garment between them and she tugs the fabric down. Her eyes go dark and hungry at the sight of him hard and eager for her mouth. She's seen him naked and aroused before, but there's a new thrill to it now that she's finally about to taste him. She breathes out a moan just from the anticipation, and licks a hot stripe from sac to tip.
"Gods, you're beautiful. So yummy."
Her breath comes out in a shudder and she moans again when she dips her head again. Her tongue works his cock in teasing little kitten licks, too uneven and soft for any kind of release.
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"You always see through me," he breathes, voice as ragged as a pirate flag, "I can't stop thinking about it, longing for it, for any touch you're willing to give me, of course, but the way you look at me sets me ablaze." She has his hips held tight, and he can't squirm or back away, and somehow that's even more thrilling. Let him be entirely in her hands.
It has been a while since he did this last, and if he only counts those intimate experiences on the mortal plane, then it has been far longer. Even her breath against his sensitive skin makes his cock twitch pleadingly. When she licks him he gasps, abs contacting and hips rocking involuntarily.
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Her tongue rolls against his cock as she eases the length of him past her lips, until he fits perfectly down her throat. Her nose pressed to his abdomen. She holds him there, stays perfectly still, letting him acclimate to new sensations so they don't overwhelm him too fast.
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Gale's breath is quick and hitching, and he makes a concerted effort to take deep, slow breaths. The light of the orb traces up from his neck, and though it isn't very visible out here in the sunshine, he can feel it like a pressure in his chest. "This is so dangerous," he says, and he means for it to sound like a warning, but his voice comes out a deep rumble that does little to hide exactly how thrilling he finds a brush with danger to be. He runs his fingertips over her hair, again and again, soothing himself with repetitive motion. "Seeing you on your knees like this for me... Gods, you are a vision." Maybe his last vision, of they keep this up.
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