|Blake gets lucky. And then luckier.
||[Nov. 17th, 2012|12:44 am]
Negability Prime--Negability in time and space.
Overstrom leans in to kiss Blake's exposed neck one more time before he opens the door. Blake pauses and leans back a little, smiling.
Overstrom wraps his arms around Blake's waist and murmurs into his ear, 'You'd best open the door before we change our minds and stay out here forever....'
Only he could make freezing to death sound sexy. "Mmh," Blake says dreamily, and fumbles for the doorknob. "Oh, it's warm in here."
They slip into the darkened and empty back hall; Overstrom shuts the door behind them and pushes Blake up against it. 'Now what?' he whispers. Blake is transfixed, wordless. His demon leans in for a long kiss, then pulls away. 'Come along, quickly, before we're discovered.'
As they turn toward the end of the short corridor, a silhouette appears in the light ahead. Overstrom silently pulls Blake flat against the wall. The figure strides toward them with grim purpose...and then keeps going.
Overstrom quietly steps behind the man. 'Do you not belong somewhere else?' he whispers.
"AAAUGGGHHH," his victim replies coherently, and bolts back the way he came.
Blake lets his breath out. Overstrom pulls him close again, laughing silently. 'Really I have no idea why people are so frightened of me.'
"You like sneaking up on people, don't you?" Blake whispers into his neck.
'Like? No, of course not. But why should that make me so frightening?'
"Aren't we GOING somewhere?"
'We would, if you didn't stand around talking all night.'
Blake mock-gasps. "You know this house, I assume."
Overstrom runs a hand down his back, then steps away. Taking his hand, he guides him up the back stairs and into the bedroom corridor. 'I suppose the party is still going on,' he whispers, 'though it is getting rather late. I should think people will be starting to retire soon.'
"Mm hmm." Blake is not interested in any third party's bedtime.
They hurry down the corridor. Overstrom pulls him through a door, shuts it, and bolts it securely. They grapple silently, almost tripping on one of the shadowy puddles of cloth strewn about the room.
"Don't drop your fancy coat on the floor," Blake taunts.
Overstrom laughs, and lets Blake push it off his shoulders and into a crumpled heap on the rug. His wig joins it as he pulls Blake down onto the bed.
Neither of them has any idea how much time has passed. Most of the candles have burned down to their sockets, and only a few are still lit. The fire is nothing but glowing embers, but the room is still warm.
The door handle turns, but doesn't open.
Blake reaches back, trying to cover Overstrom's ear.
The handle jiggles, then stops. Then a quiet rapping.
'Go the hell away,' Overstrom mutters into Blake's hair.
"O, LET ME IN," Ivy bellows through the door.
'Oh god,' he moans. 'I'm going to have to shut her up.'
"I'M NOT GOING TO SHUT UP UNTIL YOU LET ME IN."
Blake gives up trying to cover his ear, and wriggles back closer. Overstrom kisses the back of his neck, gives a mighty sigh, and rolls neatly out of bed. He wraps his robe around himself and steps carefully over the litter of clothes to the door, unbolting it and cracking it open. 'Get in here before you wake the entire house,' he hisses.
Ivy pushes the door open and shoulders her way inside. "Thank you," she whispers smugly. "Now help me take this stupid dress off."
Overstrom smiles at her. 'OK.'
Blake pulls the covers up to his chin and stares like a deer in headlights.
Overstrom turns to the fireplace and prods the embers with a poker; the resulting blaze lights the room, and more heat begins to spread. The flickering reddish glow clings to his face and hands. Even in a dressing gown, Blake reflects, he manages to look demonic. He reaches for Ivy's hand to draw her closer to the fireplace.
"Don't light me on fire," she yawns.
'I shall do my best to avoid it,' Overstrom answers as he positions her in front of him so that he can see the back of her dress in the mirror over the mantelpiece. 'Were you on your best behaviour at the party?' he murmurs into her ear as he reaches around to unhook the back of her dress.
"Mostly. I only collected a few souls."
'Oh? Where have you put them?' He looks down the front of her dress as he unfastens her choker.
She looks at him through her lashes. "Oh, I don't remember. You might have to look around."
He sets the choker on the mantlepiece, pulls off the top of her dress, and runs a slow hand over her breasts before stepping behind her to unlace her corset. Blake's jaw drops.
'I may have to search more thoroughly,' Overstrom warns her.
"That would be--just terrible," Ivy says unconvincingly.
'Oh, do you think so?' He peels off her corset, tossing it onto the floor among the growing pile of discarded clothes, and runs his hands down her torso. 'You've done such a careful job of concealing them, I may never find them.' He unties her skirts so she can step out, wrapped like a newly hatched butterfly only in the translucent folds of her shift.
"Well, you'll never find them if you don't look." Ivy's gaze moves to Blake for the first time, and he would have frozen if he weren't already frozen. Metaphorically, that is. His face, and his body, and the sheets pulling at his limbs are almost uncomfortably hot. She grins cheekily at him, then turns back to Overstrom.
Completely ignoring Blake, he gathers her into his arms and gives her a long, deep kiss. 'It's getting cold,' he whispers. 'Come to bed.'