near the end of a long year

[tactician]

Rare was the day where the political sphere wasn't abuzz, even all the way down to the lower echelons of the profession, with secretaries and agencies worming their way into last minute flights for their significantly more powerful supervisors, but even on Ennaspie, Christmas morning was a quiet one. Rarer were still was a quiet morning where Weiler wasn't sound asleep when Locke woke to a room bathed in early light.

Instead, though Weiler had stayed in bed by Locke's side, he was sitting up against the headboard, blankets pulled up to his waist as he looked at something through a sliver of window behind the drawn curtains, a soft ivory they had settled on after (admittedly not much) consideration. He was sleepy-eyed when he noticed the shift in Locke's breathing from slumber to waking and looked down, but he didn't say anything quite yet.

He only smiled, in fact, and said nothing at all.

Comments

[tactician]

Weiler's eyes were on the projection screen, but his attention was no doubt on Locke. The idle hand on Locke's neck didn't stop its motions, and though the pause he gave might have looked like lack of attention to someone who didn't know him as well, it was because of thoughtfulness that Weiler took a moment longer to answer.

"Stay vigilant and don't bring work home with me?" he said, sliding his gaze sideways, sly and good-humored. "I could quit smoking, but I'm giving myself a few more years before I try that."

[aphelionix]

"Guess I'll just have to wait on that one," Locke sighed. At least he didn't do it in the house.

[tactician]

"Just a few more years," Weiler chuckled, twisting in his seat to wrap a hand around Locke's neck and kiss him. "Then I'll give it up. A man's allowed his vices when he's still young enough to maintain them, isn't he?"

[aphelionix]

He smiled regardless, letting a hand rest on Weiler's leg, accepting the kiss happily. "I imagine it helps, anyway, with keeping work at work."

[tactician]

"It's not that hard - much easier than being a personal assistant. It's just a bad habit I've yet to kick," admitted Weiler, shameless about that fact. He finished his second glass of champagne and climbed over Locke's lap, setting the empty glass down on the ground. "A man needs some bad habits. It keeps him...well-rounded."

[aphelionix]

With a small chuckle, Locke finished his second glass as well, reaching behind Weiler to set it on the coffee table. He wasn't surprised by Weiler's philosophies. It only made the man more interesting, to him.

"Speaking of habits," he started, looking Weiler up and down. "I often find you in this position."

[tactician]

Weiler raised both brows. "You don't like it?"

He looked down, then back up, bracing either elbow on Locke's shoulders. "But you do," he said confidently, though he sounded mildly confused as to why Locke brought it up.

[aphelionix]

He chuckled, and this close, it was obvious in his cheeks that the drink was getting to him.

"I don't mind at all," Locke said. Weiler knew him well enough, too, to know that his averted gaze was one of nervousness. "I just wonder if you... don't want to switch it up."

[tactician]

"All right," Weiler agreed easily, quick and without complaint. He doubted anything Locke would suggest would be something too much for him to handle, and he doubted it even more that it'd be something he wouldn't like. After all, if they really got down to it, Weiler's experience with strange and over-zealous tastes was probably much more diverse than even the soldier's.

"What do you want to do instead?" he asked, murmuring the question as he mouthed over Locke's jaw.

[aphelionix]

He felt even warmer now that he could no longer avoid saying it. Locke closed his eyes, his cheek sliding against Weiler's. Well, he didn't hide anything from this man, and he certainly wasn't going to start now.

"I want you to to take me tonight," he mumbled by his ear.

[tactician]

Weiler stilled against Locke, mouth pausing over the shell of his ear.

"Do you, now?" he said, voice deeper than usual.

[aphelionix]

Locke smiled slowly, his eyes opening halfway. That was a promising tone of voice. "I do."

[tactician]

He drew back, but not very far. Weiler still cast a shadow on Locke's face from the light of the projection screen at his back, and it made his eyes dark in their closeness (or maybe it was something else).

"You really want that?" he asked, pausing to run his tongue across his bottom lip. "Or are you just trying to offer something special because of the occasion...?"

[aphelionix]

"The occasion helps," Locke said honestly, watching Weiler's tongue, his eyes. His hands slid up to his hips. "But I've been curious for a while."

[tactician]

Smiling, Weiler raised his hands to cradle Locke's face. "I thought you didn't like doing that."

[aphelionix]

He gave a breathless laugh. "To be honest, I might not. I've never done it."

[tactician]

"Thank you for letting me have the honor," Weiler laughed back, grinning wide as he lifted himself onto his knees over Locke, hands sliding down to the man's side and ribs.

He looked down appreciatively. It had been a long time since he had really been in this position, and while he didn't mind in the least the role he usually played with Locke, the fact that Locke trusted him enough to want this made his pulse drum in his ears.

"You're not even tipsy yet," he mused.

[aphelionix]

"Two glasses was enough," he answered, staring back up. "I'd like to be fairly sober for it, anyway."

[tactician]

The forgotten program behind Weiler's back was broadcasting something about the highlights of the System from the past year, a tradition that never failed to change with the passing of decades or centuries.

Weiler tilted Locke's face up and brought their mouths together, once and then again and then a third time for good measure. "I'll take good care of you, Rhys," he promised, brushing the hair back from the man's face. "I'll take such good care of you; you won't regret it."

[aphelionix]

He leaned in as beckoned, humming softly against Weiler's lips. There was a smile there, despite the couple butterflies in his stomach. (Who would look forward to the painful part, after all? But if Weiler got past it, surely he could, too.)

"I'm sure I won't," Locke said, confident in his partner. "Let's go to the other room."

[tactician]

"But we'll miss all the celebration in there," Weiler said, though he clearly had no compliant considering how quickly he got to his feet.

[aphelionix]

Locke grabbed the bottle of champagne with a laugh, taking one more swig before standing up himself.

"I'm sure we'll hear enough noise from the streets," he said.

[tactician]

"Well, I don't plan to pay much attention to what's going on in the streets," Weiler interjected, lacing their fingers together as he tugged the other man, champagne and all, the short way to the open door of their bedroom. The bubbly drink hadn't done anything to him yet, but he could already see the slight tint staining Locke's high cheekbones, the way it was no doubt easing his nerves.

[aphelionix]

Once in their room, he set the bottle on the nightstand. The strength of Ennaspiean alcohol had already done its job for him. The rest was up to them.

Tugging Weiler in by his hand, Locke kissed him again. Weiler wasn't nearly as warm as he was, but still warm enough when was close like this. Despite Locke tending to be the more passive one in these activities anyway, there was an even more subdued note in his actions now as he let Weiler take the lead.

[tactician]

Weiler fell into the leading role without a hitch, naturally and with a sense of confidence that usually imparted his partner with a sense of ease. He hoped Locke wouldn't regret this, so he sought out to make Locke as comfortable as possible, as cared for and appreciated as he had felt when Locke had first asked to take him. Being wanted this way did a great deal for a person already.

He usually took the upper hand more often with women than with men, and even then was it never with men who were larger and taller in frame. When you were doing this with an air of anonymity, there were pretenses and reputations you had to maintain. Thankfully, Locke required none of those walls or awkward walls because, well, simply enough, this was Locke.

Weiler guided him back toward the bed, tipping him over onto it before climbing over him. He smiled down at the man as he pulled Locke's clothes over his head, running his hands down the man's chest in smooth, comforting motions until his palms reached Locke's waistline. He rubbed the line of skin that marked the junction of hips and torso, bending down to partake in the expanse of warm, exposed skin.

"I'm going to make you feel so good, Rhys, you're going to love this," he murmured, kissing the pulse under Locke's jaw and feeling it jump under his lips. "I'll make sure of it."