|Heart of Gold and Fists of Steel (dragovianknight) wrote in kinkfest,|
@ 2007-09-21 09:38:00
|Entry tags:||a: dragovianknight, f: dragon quest iv, p: alena/cristo, september 20|
Stolen Moments, Dragon Quest IV (Cristo/Alena)
Title: Stolen Moments
Rating: Errr...what's a hand job rate these days?
Warnings: Aforementioned hand job
Word count: 519
Summary: Cristo was worried. Alena makes it up to him.
Prompt: Dragon Quest IV, Cristo/Alena: up against the wall - "If you don't straighten your hat, everyone's going to know."
Cristo was frowning when he found her in the stables. That, in itself, was not a surprise - Alena often teased that he had a frown for every occasion - but this frown had the white lipped tension which warned her she'd gone past being an impossible failure as a princess and actually worried him.
"I was checking for storm damage," she said before he could speak. "Part of the road between here and Sureen is washed out."
He paused, nodded, and she knew he'd added that to his endless mental checklist of things which interfered with the smooth operation of Santeem Castle and its environs. "Riding storm damage is hardly your responsibility, Your Highness," he said, falling into step beside her, back rigid and stride precise. "Particularly when you vanish for an entire day to do so. Without telling anyone."
"I can't believe you still don't think I can take care of myself." She kept her tone light, saw from the corner of her eye that he wasn't mollified, and sighed. "If the road hadn't been washed out, I'd have been back by noon."
"As you were not, you missed the arrival of the envoy from Argonia."
"And I'm not going to pretend I regret it, either." They passed an empty box stall; clean straw rustled underfoot as she pushed him, unresisting, though the door and against the wall, caught his face between her hands, and kissed him.
"I'm sorry," she said against his skin. "I didn't mean to worry you." Her hands dropped to slide down over the embroidery stiffening the front of his tabard; her lips strayed along his jaw to his throat, and she nuzzled his clothing aside to bite and suck where the mark wouldn't be readily apparent.
The formal set of his shoulders didn't relax, though he inhaled deep and slow when her hands slid inside the tabard and unfastened the front of his trousers. She paused to remove her riding gloves, dropping them into the straw, mouth never leaving his skin when she took him in her hand. He hardened readily at her touch; his head tilted slightly to the side, inviting her mouth from the curve of his shoulder to the softer skin of his throat before she tipped her head back to look at him.
She loved making the stern mask of his office fall away, watching his expression go soft and his eyes flutter closed with pleasure. Indeed, she almost regretted when his breath quickened and he came, spilling his seed into the straw.
Reluctantly, she tucked him away and tidied his clothing, wishing they had the luxury of more than a few stolen minutes at a time. But voicing her thoughts would only remind him of the difference in their stations, raise the barriers between them a few minutes earlier, so instead she kissed him again.
"You owe me," she whispered in his ear.
His hand slid down her back, pulling her close against him. "A debt I'll be happy to repay whenever you like," he said, and his lips were quirked in something suspiciously like a smile.