Michael is sitting on the floor, in front of the fireplace. What is he doing beyond that? Knitting? Reading? Picking at the rug? He could be doing anything, really.
He shakes his head and kisses back, one arm wrapping around Luc's waist.
"No, but you should. I solve the problems and then you beat them heavily with blunt and or sharp objects while I hide behind you like the scared mouse of an angel that I am, beloved. It really works best that way if you remember."
He nibbles at Stephen's neck. "They weren't always quite this bad." He's not defending the Order, he just wants to get across that had someone other than Jinette been there at the turn of the century, the miindwipe of 1998 would have taken place 100 years earlier. "Jinette let us get away with a lot more than he could have."
"Jinette had his mind on the prize, so to speak. His goal was to eradicate evil, not to fuck with your skull. For all that he was a devious son of a goat, he was at least honest in his intentions."
He smiles at Luc and kisses him onces more.
"It's good to know he went where he was expecting to go."
"Just because I don't like it doesn't mean I don't know it should be done. I just don't like pain. I'm allowed to not like something, even if I'm more aware than anyone that he deserves it."
It was the problem with knowing.
"And the part that is entirely Stephen wishes to rip his dick off and stuff it in his ear."
He nods against the side of Stephen's head. "I know. But the unfading fire of anger that wants to tear him into little pieces burns out any feelings about the act itself."
Eyes closed again, he takes a deep breath and his arms tighten around Stephen.
"I know..." and his voice catches, because if he says more there will either be fiery anger to rival hell itself or tears and he doesn't want either.
"Certainly. Perhaps more kisses and a few groping attempts at my slacks and I shall do my best to retaliate, but you are a ravishingly handsome man, Luc. I might just have to let you do what you like with me."
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"No, but you should. I solve the problems and then you beat them heavily with blunt and or sharp objects while I hide behind you like the scared mouse of an angel that I am, beloved. It really works best that way if you remember."
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"Of course, beloved. I think I should expire if you were dependent on me."
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He smiles; he kisses him; he holds him close; he whispers, "I love you."
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And he's just leaning back, arching to the touches and allowing Luc access to him should he feel the need to add more.
"Though I will pay them a visit sometime soon. "Holy Order" indeed."
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He smiles at Luc and kisses him onces more.
"It's good to know he went where he was expecting to go."
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Luc's hands might be sliding down Stephen's chest, curling around his hips.
"DeClerque's going to hell whether he wants it or not. And not happy shiny hell either. He gets to live with Judas."
Believe it or not, he's holding back.
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He doesn't like the idea. He doesn't like the idea in general.
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Oh, he's well aware that his analogies suck; he just doesn't care.
He actually growls. "There is no greater betrayal than what he did to me. Nothing worse than that."
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It was the problem with knowing.
"And the part that is entirely Stephen wishes to rip his dick off and stuff it in his ear."
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Eyes closed again, he takes a deep breath and his arms tighten around Stephen.
"I know..." and his voice catches, because if he says more there will either be fiery anger to rival hell itself or tears and he doesn't want either.
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He really did think it was funny... but he got smacked with evil memories first.
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"That's just absurd."
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He smiles and leans up to kiss Luc on the lips.
"And it made you smile."
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"Certainly. Perhaps more kisses and a few groping attempts at my slacks and I shall do my best to retaliate, but you are a ravishingly handsome man, Luc. I might just have to let you do what you like with me."
He's grinning. Beaming.
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Perhaps he is attempting the preliminaries of such just now... wandering hands and all.