cues makeup, Breeches and Broadcloth.
Apr. 22nd, 2008 12:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wellownedbkupTitle: A Willful Act
Prompt: Cues. 4-28-05. "And a sunset couldn't save you now" in 30 minutes.
Notes/Warnings: The first snippet of Breeches and Broadcloth, a Scarlet Pimpernel fanfic. French Revolution, ahoy! Tony Dewhurst/Percy Blakeney, established relationship. Indeterminate timing.
There's a satisfied smile on Tony's lips, the product of a job well done. Robespierre and Chauvelain, the entire Commitee would be thwarted yet again. He could hardly contain himself with the elation he feels in his bones. All from a band of adventurous aristocrats.
Today, they helped a family escape the clutches of Mme la Guillotine. Whilst the rest of the League scattered, Andrew led the family across the countryside to Calais, to a yacht bound for Southampton.
Tony smiles a little wider at the shift of heat at his side. His bedmate is his Captain, the leader of the League. There's no one he can tell this amazing secret. He sleeps with The Scarlet Pimpernel himself, feels the danger of this man who puts his life on the line for French nobility. Tony reaches a hand over and lets it hover over the shoulder that bears the weight of two countries' strife and warfare.
He knows the whispers that abound when a young man, such as himself, takes up with an older fop, as it would seem Percy. He knows that title can be stripped from them both, that with that fate comes deportation to the Americas, or worse. He knows that it means his death, even as he feels Percy's hand glide warmly over his torso. Callused fingertips slip and catch against smooth skin, wringing a quiet groan from the center of Tony's chest.
"Steady on, chap," Percy murmurs, delighting in the pleasures of his bedmate. "We have all night."
Prompt: Cues. 4-28-05. "And a sunset couldn't save you now" in 30 minutes.
Notes/Warnings: The first snippet of Breeches and Broadcloth, a Scarlet Pimpernel fanfic. French Revolution, ahoy! Tony Dewhurst/Percy Blakeney, established relationship. Indeterminate timing.
There's a satisfied smile on Tony's lips, the product of a job well done. Robespierre and Chauvelain, the entire Commitee would be thwarted yet again. He could hardly contain himself with the elation he feels in his bones. All from a band of adventurous aristocrats.
Today, they helped a family escape the clutches of Mme la Guillotine. Whilst the rest of the League scattered, Andrew led the family across the countryside to Calais, to a yacht bound for Southampton.
Tony smiles a little wider at the shift of heat at his side. His bedmate is his Captain, the leader of the League. There's no one he can tell this amazing secret. He sleeps with The Scarlet Pimpernel himself, feels the danger of this man who puts his life on the line for French nobility. Tony reaches a hand over and lets it hover over the shoulder that bears the weight of two countries' strife and warfare.
He knows the whispers that abound when a young man, such as himself, takes up with an older fop, as it would seem Percy. He knows that title can be stripped from them both, that with that fate comes deportation to the Americas, or worse. He knows that it means his death, even as he feels Percy's hand glide warmly over his torso. Callused fingertips slip and catch against smooth skin, wringing a quiet groan from the center of Tony's chest.
"Steady on, chap," Percy murmurs, delighting in the pleasures of his bedmate. "We have all night."
