Post by pandora on Dec 3, 2010 11:57:11 GMT 10
Title: Apples
Rating: PG 13
Card: 1
Bingo: Tradition + A Pretty Lady + Candles + Father and Son + Alcohol
Summary: Jasson never realised just how like his father he was until now...
Prince Jasson made his way across the snow covered courtyard trying to maintain a straight path, his squire trailing close behind him, redirecting him slightly whenever he got too close to stumbling into a wall or a tree.
"Are you sure you wouldn't rather go through the palace your highness?" His squire asked catching the prince's arm as he tripped on another obstruction buried in the snow.
"Don't be ridiculous Dal! This way is much quicker..." Jasson scowled, the cold was burning off the nice numb feeling he had.
After several wrong turns, and a run in with a particularly vicious shrub, the prince and his squire reached their adjoining quarters.
"Go to bed Squire," Jasson mumbled fumbling with his keys and finally opening the door.
Dalayne pushed past the Prince into the room.
"Not until I see you safely to bed, I don't want you passing out and choking on your own vomit" Dal closed the door, "I really can't be bothered finding a new Knight Master at this time of year."
Jasson stumbled around lighting candles, before turning to find Dal picking through the fruit bowl on his desk.
"By all means Squire, do help yourself."
Smiling Dal selected a winter apple and took a slow bite, lips and apple meeting, red and sweet.
Prince Jasson swallowed.
"You know," he said squinting at his squire, "In this light you're actually quite pretty..."
A wolfish grin lit up Dal's face, and closing the distance between them rested a hand on Jasson's muscled chest.
This was all the encouragement the prince needed.
Lips met, bodies crushing together, hands wandering, laces and buckles roughly undone.
"Wait," Dal pushed away. "Sir, Your Highness, wait. You- you're mussing up my clothes, I need them for service at the ball tomorrow."
Jasson released his squire and moved away, as far as the room would allow, "Quite right Dal. My apologies."
Jasson busied himself straightening his clothes, and finishing off the apple that had somehow ended up in his hand during the brief exchange. He closed his eyes trying to slow his ragged breath.
"Your Highness?" Dal's voice was quiet and husky.
Jasson looked up to find himself staring straight at his suddenly very naked squire. His jaw dropped, the apple core falling from his hand.
Jasson, do not sleep with your squire. Do not sleep with your squire. The little voice in his head, his conscious, repeated over and over. Do not sleep with your squire....
Dal crossed the room, the candlelight accentuating her hard muscles and soft curves a like. She ran her hand down his body and started removing her Knight Master's clothes.
Do not.. Do not sleep with your... squire.... sleep with your... Jasson, sleep with your squire...
The apple never did fall far from the tree...
Rating: PG 13
Card: 1
Bingo: Tradition + A Pretty Lady + Candles + Father and Son + Alcohol
Summary: Jasson never realised just how like his father he was until now...
Prince Jasson made his way across the snow covered courtyard trying to maintain a straight path, his squire trailing close behind him, redirecting him slightly whenever he got too close to stumbling into a wall or a tree.
"Are you sure you wouldn't rather go through the palace your highness?" His squire asked catching the prince's arm as he tripped on another obstruction buried in the snow.
"Don't be ridiculous Dal! This way is much quicker..." Jasson scowled, the cold was burning off the nice numb feeling he had.
After several wrong turns, and a run in with a particularly vicious shrub, the prince and his squire reached their adjoining quarters.
"Go to bed Squire," Jasson mumbled fumbling with his keys and finally opening the door.
Dalayne pushed past the Prince into the room.
"Not until I see you safely to bed, I don't want you passing out and choking on your own vomit" Dal closed the door, "I really can't be bothered finding a new Knight Master at this time of year."
Jasson stumbled around lighting candles, before turning to find Dal picking through the fruit bowl on his desk.
"By all means Squire, do help yourself."
Smiling Dal selected a winter apple and took a slow bite, lips and apple meeting, red and sweet.
Prince Jasson swallowed.
"You know," he said squinting at his squire, "In this light you're actually quite pretty..."
A wolfish grin lit up Dal's face, and closing the distance between them rested a hand on Jasson's muscled chest.
This was all the encouragement the prince needed.
Lips met, bodies crushing together, hands wandering, laces and buckles roughly undone.
"Wait," Dal pushed away. "Sir, Your Highness, wait. You- you're mussing up my clothes, I need them for service at the ball tomorrow."
Jasson released his squire and moved away, as far as the room would allow, "Quite right Dal. My apologies."
Jasson busied himself straightening his clothes, and finishing off the apple that had somehow ended up in his hand during the brief exchange. He closed his eyes trying to slow his ragged breath.
"Your Highness?" Dal's voice was quiet and husky.
Jasson looked up to find himself staring straight at his suddenly very naked squire. His jaw dropped, the apple core falling from his hand.
Jasson, do not sleep with your squire. Do not sleep with your squire. The little voice in his head, his conscious, repeated over and over. Do not sleep with your squire....
Dal crossed the room, the candlelight accentuating her hard muscles and soft curves a like. She ran her hand down his body and started removing her Knight Master's clothes.
Do not.. Do not sleep with your... squire.... sleep with your... Jasson, sleep with your squire...
The apple never did fall far from the tree...