The Arcana - Muriel Fanfics!

VI - The Lovers

Muriel fumbles with the door handle, fingers brushing against my back. Lips on mine, all I can taste is him. Fingers grasping the fur of his dress-cloak, fingers buried in his soft hair, braids long since undone. 

With a click, the door swings open behind me. 

Without breaking the kiss, Muriel hoists me up, hands roaming my back, kicking the door closed behind us. The heat of our bodies together, tongues dancing to the music of passion, his hands slipping up the hem of my dress...

                                                                                 **********

Muriel's hand rests at my waist, his green eyes intensely interested in one of the fireflies about my shoulder. I smile as we sway. 

"....Is this right?" He murmurs, eyeing nearby dancers uncertainly. The Masquerade has only just started, and the steady stream of people is beginning to swell, like a river in rain. 

"It's perfect," I whisper. Despite my reassurances, the thinly veiled discomfort is starting to fray in Muriel's eyes. More often than not, we're bumping into other revellers. Each time, Muriel pulls me a little closer. He's put up with it for this long, I think. 

"Is there anything you want to do?" I ask him, pulling him to the side of the dancefloor. "It's still early," I add. He scratches his head, tugs on the delicate silver chain, fidgets with the bear-shaped clasp. Even though his painted bear mask obscures his features, I know he's blushing. 

"...Why. There'll only be more people," he grunts, tugging at his collar. Frowning, I realise there's a sheen of sweat around his neck. The way he's glancing around the ballroom, suspicion, fear and worry swirling together in a melancholy dance. I don't blame him, shuddering at the memory of last year's run-in with the Devil. He really doesn't want to be here. I rack my brain for anything, anything, that'll take his mind off it. 

"...I saw them serving black mead earlier," I say, a sly smile spreading over my face. I take his trembling hand in both of mine. "We could...maybe...take some to the gardens? It's quieter there," I say, watching him carefully. To my delight, the fear in his eyes vanishes, and he offers me a soft smile. 

"...That...that sounds good," he says quietly. "...Thank you." 

                                                                                         **********

Tripping and stumbling over the piles of clothes we leave in out haste, Muriel and I make our way across the room. 

His boots.

                  My slippers.

                                           His cloak, the bear clasp forgotten.

                                                                    The ivy around my waist, falling to the floor at his touch. 

                                            His grey dress-tunic, accidentally tearing as I help him pull it over his head.

 "...It was too tight anyways," Muriel murmurs between kisses. I rake my hands down his front, up his back, feeling his warmth, the earthy, solid aura that feels so familiar. As we edge closer to the bed, Muriel's grip tightens around the folds of my dress. I kiss him harder, slowly rolling my hips against him rhythmically. Muriel moans into our kiss, eyes fluttering open. I gaze at him through my lashes. There's redness in his cheeks, but something in his eyes I've rarely seen.

 Want. It's in the way he holds me so close, the way his fingers wander. My chest feels flush as I press against his, my breathing heavy. As I lunge forward to kiss him again, I realise I want him just as badly. 

Muriel bumps into the edge of the bed, and just when I thought the want in his eyes would be the only surprise of the night, Muriel's fingers twist into the green and gold fabric of the dress...

...and tears the whole thing off like I'll never need it again, tossing it aside. With a swift motion, Muriel lays me on the edge of the bed. I gasp, the shock of cool air teasing goosebumps up my arms. Muriel stops suddenly, breaking the kiss with concern in his eyes.

"...Are you ok?" He glances vaguely at the dress on the ground, a guilty look passing over his features. "......Sorry," he mumbles, hair falling into his eyes as they dart over my bare skin. I chuckle, winding my fingers through his hair and pulling him down, down. 

"You'll have to make it up to me," I whisper, shivering as his stubble brushes against the inside of my thighs. Muriel's flush deepens, and he raises his eyes to meet mine. Then, slowly, surely, he lowers his head. I groan, grip on his hair tightening.

                                                                                   **********

My grip on his hair loosens as I untangle the last braid. "Better?" I ask as Muriel shakes unruly bangs back into his eyes. "...Better," he mumbles. "They were hurting my head."

My eyes fall to the impressive amount of tankards littered around Muriel on the grass. "Wait 'til morning. Braids won't be the only thing hurting your head," I chuckle. The fountain tinkles softly, and even though the Masquerade is in full swing, the sway of the trees is at least putting Muriel at ease. The night breeze brushes cool fingers across my bare shoulders, and I begin to shiver. 

Within seconds, a heavy warmth settles over me as Muriel wraps me in his great sable cloak. I sigh contentedly, resting my head against his shoulder. It's so peaceful, so serene...yet I can't help the impish smile that spreads across my face as I trace the inside of Muriel's thigh. 

He freezes.

 I gaze up at him. Muriel looks torn between wanting to completely disappear and wanting to root himself to the spot. I laugh, tucking my fingers back into the fur cloak. 

"Maybe somewhere more private," I whisper as tipsy party-goers' laughing rings through the garden. To my surprise, Muriel nods, more to himself than to me, before standing. He brushes himself off, before offering me a hand. "...Somewhere more...more private," he murmurs, his flush a mix of mead and embarrassment. 

I giggle, taking his hand. 

                                                                               ***********

I bite back a groan, taking his hand. Entwining my fingers with his as he gently, ever so gently, eases his way inside of me. Muriel moans, one hand gripping the backboard, the other squeezing my own. Hair falls into those deep green eyes as they lock onto mine. 

"...I'm not...I'm not hurting you, am I?" he asks breathlessly, concern briefly overtaking passion. 

"No," I say, arching my back to meet him. He shudders, pushing into me further. I claw at handfuls of the bedsheets as he begins a steady rhythm. The heat, the pleasure...my toes curl, and my legs begin to shake as Muriel picks up speed. He buries his face in my shoulder, moaning quietly into the sheets. 

His breath is warm in my ear as he whispers. 

"...I love you."

"Oh, Muriel," I breathe hoarsely, feeling him inside me, feeling his aura around me.

"I love you too," I shudder.