Days like these lead to…
Nights like this lead to
Love like ours.
You light the spark in my bonfire heart.
People like us—we don’t
Need that much, just some-
One that starts,
Starts the spark in our bonfire hearts
– James Blunt, Bonfire Heart
Tag Archives: otp: fire and ice
Days like these lead to…
Nights like this lead to
Love like ours.
You light the spark in my bonfire heart.
People like us—we don’t
Need that much, just some-
One that starts,
Starts the spark in our bonfire hearts
I want a trouble-maker for a lover, blood spiller, blood drinker, a heart of flame, who quarrels with the sky and fights with fate, who burns like fire on the rushing sea.
Rumi
He traced her profile with his eyes, imagining the feeling of the soft curves beneath his fingers. More empty words to soothe his wounds. If only he could believe such warm lies, but he knew what he was. What he always would be. But the sting was lessened at the thought of her still being there, thinking he was better than he was.
Perhaps he was missing the point, but he was tired, and she was beautiful.
“It is alright, Lady Summer. You need not…” he trailed off, swallowing.
“You don’t believe me.” She swallowed hard, trying to force down the lump in her throat. “Of course you don’t believe me. Of — of course I couldn’t possibly convince you, how old are you, how long you’ve been … ” She jumbled to a stop, gulping again.
She let go of his hands to rub at her face, forcing back involuntary tears. “Humans have a thing we do, sometimes. We say we have a family of blood, the family we were born to or raised in, and a family of the heart, the people we choose and share our lives with.”
He heard the change in her voice and fear surfaced from somewhere within him. He felt what she must feel, listening to him, wanting more, wanting…
“Please don’t,” he murmured, leaning over her, smoothing his fingers over that skin at last. “I will try, darling. I have heard you and I will do anything to try.” And then he pressed their lips together, chaste and reserved, sealing the connection between them at last.
She hadn’t realised how much she wanted that kiss until he gave it to her. There was no reason for it to seem so powerful, except that she’d missed him more than she admitted, and they’d always teased. Well, he had. She didn’t press for more, though, too weary, too worn with the struggles of the last hour.
Instead she put her hand back over his and squeezed. “We can try together.”
There was no thought in the way she turned, arms reaching out to clasp at him, pull the height of him into her embrace, only instinct. The ache in his heart, that laced his voice, tore at her. She tugged him down til his head rested on her shoulder and her hands linked behind his back. “Oh, darling,” she murmured, low and sympathetic, “still so very much pain. No, I can’t tell you with my gifts what you want, only that you do want.” One hand stroked, gently, over the soft shirt and hard muscles of his back. “If I were to guess, I would say you want what you have always wanted. To be seen, and wanted, as you truly are. To be believed in, and desired for yourself. Oh, darling.”
“Summer,” he breathed, like a sigh, or a word of praise, or one of relief. He allowed his eyes to close as he inhaled that familiar scent, brought back to a time when he felt like something tethered him to the realm of the living. Things could be like that again—no, not the same. Different, new, but still her.
“Allow me to go where you go.”
Any other time, she might have laughed, might have teased him — “What could stop you?” — but the moment was too fragile, the thing trembling between them too tenuous.
So she simply said, “Yes,” into his hair, voice a little choked.
Feeling for a moment like he was hovering outside of the scene, like the closeness was constricting him, he pulled back. ”I only mean that, it would be easier with your permission, of course. But either way…” he gave her a sideways smile. By the nine, how was he going to dig himself out of this one?
This time Summer couldn’t hold back her laugh. “Oh, of course. Darling madman.” She turned him loose, smiling still. “I’m tired, okay? I’m a lightweight, and I want to lie down and sleep. So come on if you’re coming.”
The way his face changed at her answer hurt, dully. She turned, meaning to start back to where her gear was. “Did I say you should?” she flashed back, over her shoulder. He wanted … something. She wasn’t sure what it was, only that want rode him, and it ran higher when he looked at her. “Stay.”
“Then I ask nothing of you, except your company,” he admitted, stepping towards her once again. Without his consent, his hand reached out and brushed her hair, the very slightest of touches. He wondered if she was listening to his emotions, if she could feel how the sensation swelled through him like a familiar warmth, like a hearth after a winter storm.
Summer stilled, again, at the tickle of his hand on her hair. “There’s the silver tongue I remember.” She closed her eyes, thoughts whirling again, seesawing back and forth as though scales fallen out of balance. “Loki … I wish you would speak truth to me. I know you want something.” The moment shivered, a pure drop on the verge of falling. Her voice was low, almost pleading. “What is it?”
He felt the swell of an old frustration, a familiar weight—no, a pull—a yearning in all directions at once. A painful exhaustion that rooted him in place, hidden under the dark boughs of the forest, with a neglected friend whom he never should have let leave his sight, unable to go forward or back. Unsure of how to try.
“I want everything and nothing. I…wish I knew.” His voice sounded ancient and childish all at once. “Can’t you hear it? With your gifts, couldn’t you tell me?”
There was no thought in the way she turned, arms reaching out to clasp at him, pull the height of him into her embrace, only instinct. The ache in his heart, that laced his voice, tore at her. She tugged him down til his head rested on her shoulder and her hands linked behind his back. “Oh, darling,” she murmured, low and sympathetic, “still so very much pain. No, I can’t tell you with my gifts what you want, only that you do want.” One hand stroked, gently, over the soft shirt and hard muscles of his back. “If I were to guess, I would say you want what you have always wanted. To be seen, and wanted, as you truly are. To be believed in, and desired for yourself. Oh, darling.”
This Isn’t Everything You Are
His breath drew in sharply but he steadied himself. ”Oh, is that what you want? My Summer, so…forceful. I like this.” He pressed his hand over hers and moved it down over him, meeting her eyes with a narrowed gaze. ”What shall I do with you then? Whisper all my secret longings? How I have dreamed of those fire eyes and the heat of your touch?” He leaned up into her. ”How no one has ever bewitched me so quickly? Shall I tell you of your strength, courage, ferocity? No, you must already know all of this.” He pulled her down close again. ”But I suppose it cannot be said enough.” Lips met eager lips.
Freeing her hands from his, Summer slipped them back under his tunic, sliding them up and taking the fabric with her, until she either had to wait or break away from the kiss. Tugging on the hem, she lifted her head a touch to smile into his eyes. “You tell me things I wish to believe, but in my secret heart, I know better. Make me believe, Loki. And take this off. I need to touch you.”
The tunic was off before a second had passed.
“So hungry for my words, my dear. I tire of them.” He dragged her fingers down his chest and lay his head back. ”Touch me and you will need no words.”
Skin and scars lay revealed to her gaze, and Summer took her time over them, tracing lines and ridges with careful fingertips, kissing each mark of pain, drawing her nails down in soft lines. Into his breastbone she whispered, “Emotions are blurred, strange, sliding one into the other without pause. You wished to recant them, just a short while ago, and now you want me in your heart, searching? Make up your mind, ice-king.” She teased her teeth along his nipple, trying to render him speechless.
Slowly drawing himself up, wrapping careful arms around her figure, Loki let his eyes fall closed as he brushed his lips over her cheek. ”Haven’t you ever wanted to lose yourself?” he whispered, feeling the tension seem to fall out of him. Her fingertips over his skin was heaven and nothing else seemed to matter in the slightest. Perhaps he was too exposed…he did not care. He would care later, after she let go. And they always let go in the end.
“Lost is what I always am,” she murmured, retracing every inch with kisses now, pausing to pay special attention to the scar marks. “I wish to find myself, shaped in someone else’s voice.” She slid downward, fingertips grasping the upper hem of his trousers. Light kisses encircled his navel, and she traced her name with her tongue against his skin, flicking like a cat drinking milk.
This Isn’t Everything You Are
His hands slid softly up her sides, lifting off the shirt that kept him from feeling her skin. Immediately he leaned back into the kiss, twisting their tongues together, unable to get enough. The feeling of her fingers tangled in his hair was like a piece of heaven, and he hoped she could feel it. ”I’m yours, Summer,” he said, unable to contain his words. His hands shook just slightly. ”Tell me what you want.”
Pressing kisses to each temple, to each sharp cheekbone, to the corners of his jaw, she murmured, “I want,” kiss, “your hands,” kiss, “everywhere,” kiss, “learning every line,” kiss, “every curve,” she ran her nails down the back of his neck, “followed by your mouth, while you tell me everything you find beautiful about me. Take my breath away. Make me cry out. Draw it out slow and pure until neither of us can stand it any longer.”
“There is nothing,” he kissed a line down her neck, “I would rather do.” Laying back, he pulled her on top of him and deftly undid her pants, sliding them down and away. Careful hands pulled back up over her, again and again, pressing her harder against him. ”There is nothing about you that isn’t beautiful,” his fingers memorized the feel of every angle of her. He strained painfully against his pants, and a small whimper escaped his lips.
Half-balanced on Loki, Summer laid her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat as it raced higher. His tiny whimper made her smile, sliding hands under cloth to shape the lean muscles of him with her fingertips. A little flexion, a little push had her sitting up over him, looking down with a possessive smile.
One hand lay lightly over his navel, stroking downward with the barest pressure. “Details, Loki. Seduce me with your words.”
His breath drew in sharply but he steadied himself. ”Oh, is that what you want? My Summer, so…forceful. I like this.” He pressed his hand over hers and moved it down over him, meeting her eyes with a narrowed gaze. ”What shall I do with you then? Whisper all my secret longings? How I have dreamed of those fire eyes and the heat of your touch?” He leaned up into her. ”How no one has ever bewitched me so quickly? Shall I tell you of your strength, courage, ferocity? No, you must already know all of this.” He pulled her down close again. ”But I suppose it cannot be said enough.” Lips met eager lips.
Freeing her hands from his, Summer slipped them back under his tunic, sliding them up and taking the fabric with her, until she either had to wait or break away from the kiss. Tugging on the hem, she lifted her head a touch to smile into his eyes. “You tell me things I wish to believe, but in my secret heart, I know better. Make me believe, Loki. And take this off. I need to touch you.”
This Isn’t Everything You Are
He stumbled to sit on the edge of the bed, all semblance of grace momentarily lost. As Summer climbed onto his lap, he smiled into their kiss. ”Can you feel how I want you?” he murmured. ”Since first we met…do you feel it?” He knew she could. He felt a tangible connection between them, glowing like an ember. His hands slipped up her thighs and pulled her tighter against him.
She didn’t bother to answer; they both knew the truth. It would drive them like tides, swept apart and together and apart again, but for now it was together. Instead she cupped his face in both hands and bent to the task of silencing that silver tongue, for now, pressing her lips to his and parting them with her tongue.
Astride his lap, they were of a height, and she took advantage of that too, slipping fingers from his face into his hair, glorying in the heavy cascade of it.
His hands slid softly up her sides, lifting off the shirt that kept him from feeling her skin. Immediately he leaned back into the kiss, twisting their tongues together, unable to get enough. The feeling of her fingers tangled in his hair was like a piece of heaven, and he hoped she could feel it. ”I’m yours, Summer,” he said, unable to contain his words. His hands shook just slightly. ”Tell me what you want.”
Pressing kisses to each temple, to each sharp cheekbone, to the corners of his jaw, she murmured, “I want,” kiss, “your hands,” kiss, “everywhere,” kiss, “learning every line,” kiss, “every curve,” she ran her nails down the back of his neck, “followed by your mouth, while you tell me everything you find beautiful about me. Take my breath away. Make me cry out. Draw it out slow and pure until neither of us can stand it any longer.”
“There is nothing,” he kissed a line down her neck, “I would rather do.” Laying back, he pulled her on top of him and deftly undid her pants, sliding them down and away. Careful hands pulled back up over her, again and again, pressing her harder against him. ”There is nothing about you that isn’t beautiful,” his fingers memorized the feel of every angle of her. He strained painfully against his pants, and a small whimper escaped his lips.
Half-balanced on Loki, Summer laid her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat as it raced higher. His tiny whimper made her smile, sliding hands under cloth to shape the lean muscles of him with her fingertips. A little flexion, a little push had her sitting up over him, looking down with a possessive smile.
One hand lay lightly over his navel, stroking downward with the barest pressure. “Details, Loki. Seduce me with your words.”