To New Guests and New Friends

[Connor Morrison]

Tag: Hippolyte Barthélemy  & bunny   Thread: To New Guests and New Friends  Connor hesitated a moment, uncertain. This would be far from the first time that he'd indulged himself with a man from one of these parties, but whenever possible, he liked to conduct those indulgences elsewhere; here, there was too much risk, even if everyone was here to sin in some way or another. If the wrong person saw the wrong thing, it would mean a damn lot more than their reputations on the line. Even in his wine-scrambled mind, Connor was keenly aware of that.  It seemed that both Hippolyte and Henry were insistent on staying, however — and Connor supposed, grudgingly, that three men abruptly leaving in the same carriage might very well arouse more suspicion than three men going up the stairs. As long as they locked the door and kept quiet, few people here would care enough to pay them any mind. Half the guests were so drunk or so high that they would scarce remember their own names in the morning, in any case.  Upstairs it was, then. Grinning lopsidedly, he pressed a little closer, thumbed the button beneath his hand one more time, then withdrew with a sharp pat to the artist's hip. "On you go, then. Show us the way. There's a good lad." Once he had stepped away from Henry and allowed the man to turn away to lead them up the stairs, Connor paused a moment to slide his hand onto the small of Hippolyte's back. He was not entirely sure why he did it, really; it was stupid, to seek him out with such an innocent gesture at a time like this, but the act was a matter of instinct. He smoothed over whatever nonsense that was by using the leverage to pull himself against Hippolyte for a moment, the same lopsided grin still plastered on his lips. "Worth the wait, hm? I have had him before — you will not believe the things he can do with his tongue."

credit to Laura of Adox

[Hippolyte Barthélemy]

There was no hesitation with Hippolyte. While, being the most sober of the three, he should also be the most responsible, he saw little actual risk of engaging the both of them here. As long as Granville would prove to be obedient, of course..

Connor's body almost flush against his own required a truly herculean effort to not be indecent towards him right here in the hall, however. He settled for a soft chuckle, his fingers finding a stray lock of his hair to push back from his face, before cradling it, thumb brushing his lower lip.

"We shall see if his mouth is as accomodating as yours." He resisted the temptation to brush his thumb past Connor's lips. Not here. Not yet. He watched Granville walk ahead of them with a glance, taking in what he could see of his ass shaped by his breeches.

Patience.

After all, he was supposed to lead the example. Up the stairs they went, casually, not that anyone should mind what three friendly men were doing in any place, and as he closed the door firmly behind himself and asked Granville to secure it - they were proplerly in the sanctum.

The chaos of the bedroom immediately distracted him. This was no space as exquisitely decorated as the main part of the house he had seen, no, this was all utility and passion on paper and canvas. He followed the lines across the scattered works, stepping carefully around them, ending up by the decanter to fix himself a glass, watching the two other men over the rim of it while he undid his own cravat with his other hand slowly.

Usually with Connor it came out hurried, aggressive and violent. It was what he did to him, what he let him release. Granville was a different man, and this was a far different dynamic. It was measured, experimental, and as any good scientist, he did so like to test his hypotheses thoroughly.

bunny & Connor Morrison

Made by Riley at THQ!

[bunny]

HENRY FEELS COLD without the warmth of them surrounding him. He leads them up into his bedroom, considering the possibilities of the night. Though when he turns back to them briefly to see them interlocked with each other, he wonders how much attention will be on him during their nightly escapades. He gets to his bedroom here; he spends most of his time here, even if Lucy goes back to their nicer dwellings, because it is comfort to him. How many nights had he stood at that wall, scribbling his ideas -- the crazier ones, the ones he needs to work through? The strokes of genius that plague him in the early morning when there is too much absinthe? He will probably rip more wallpaper off the wall soon, intending to coat the whole room in his drawings. Why not? It is his home. 

He locks the door when prompted by Hippolyte; he is obedient. Then, he stands there awkwardly, unsure where to proceed here. It is clear they wish to lead this night, so he looks between them with curiosity. Is Henry feeling... inadequate? A weird sensation he is not used to. Right. He needs to center his mind. They came up to his room for a reason, so he must be enticing. . . He moves to remove his shirt, tugging it from his trousers. He discards it to the side, as if he is not aristocracy; he has no interest in politeness. Not here. There are no rules here. 

"I ..." He swallows, looking between Connor and Hippolyte again, trying to gauge what he needs to do. He moves toward his dresser, opening the large drawer full of his tools. "For your viewing pleasure." He says, before he moves to sit on his bed. He clears his throat, blushing a bit. "How ... do you want me?" 

Tag: Connor Morrison & Hippolyte Barthélemy 

[Connor Morrison]

Tag: Hippolyte Barthélemy  & bunny   Thread: To New Guests and New Friends  Up the stairs, over the threshold, and into the realm of privacy. As soon as the door was shut and locked behind the three of them, Connor relaxed marginally. It was not quite as much privacy as his own home would have afforded them — they could still, after all, hear the sounds of revelry from below, making it rather impossible to forget that they were not entirely alone — but the barrier of four walls gave some sense of isolation, at least. That was enough for Connor, at least for this evening. In the morning, he was likely to fret over whether anyone had seen them go upstairs, whether they had made enough noise to be heard, whether anyone had taken too much notice of them in the corridor, and a thousand other worries — but those were concerns were, for now, dim enough to dismiss.  Whereas his demeanour and Hippolyte's had relaxed, however, Henry's seemed to have grown more tense. Why that was, Connor was not certain. Not cold feet, hopefully; after how easy it had been to rile the man up downstairs, it would be a damned shame if he backed out now. For a moment or two, the poor fellow looked entirely lost; then, all at once, he began to remove his shirt to toss it aside. Cold feet was the least of the concern, then, evidently. Henry seemed to have swung from the opposite end of the spectrum that Connor expected: instead of backing out, the artist seemed to be intent on getting this over with as soon as possible. Just as disappointing, if not more.  Sucking in a hissing breath through his teeth, Connor clucked his tongue in disapproval. "Dear God, is there a fire? Look at you, stripping like a virgin on wedding night." He stalked closer to hook two fingers in Henry's waistband, which he used to yank the man flush against him. "How I want you is obedient, Granville, and I do not recall instructing you to bare yourself. I have told our dear Dr. Barthélemy what an obedient man you are; I shall not be pleased if you prove me wrong. Do you intend to behave or do you not?"

credit to Laura of Adox

[Hippolyte Barthélemy]

There was no intention in Hippolyte to cut anything short, or to rush. He was expecting to take his time with the two of them, to thoroughly enjoy them. It seemed that their host had not expected this, as he rushed ahead with an air of nervousness that both surprised and displeased him. He would need to be made to relax.

Connor was ahead of him. Good man. Hippolyte took a sip as he watched him cornering him with pleasure. He could watch Connor push him around all night if need be, the man had such a charm about him when he was subjugating.

"Are you an impatient man, Granville?" He prowled around the two of them with the drink still in his hand, brushing the other hand across Granville's shoulder, down his back following the line of his spine. He leant in closer, letting him feel his size, though not erect yet, through his breeches. "There are ways we can rectify that."

He met Connor's eyes for a moment over Granville's shoulder, smiled slyly before he drew back into proper posture. He laid his eyes on the open drawer. Perhaps their host might necessitate the use of its contents.


bunny & Connor Morrison

Made by Riley at THQ!

[bunny]

Oh. Henry stumbles forward into Connor's grip, looking up at him with widened eyes. He hadn't been expecting that -- which is his own fault, considering he knows how Connor can be in the bedroom when the two of them are alone. Henry cannot explain the feeling over him. (Though, the author would definitely say he's fallen into some kind of subspace, so logic is lacking somewhat.) "I --- " Henry tries, but he swallows back his words and flushes once more when Morrison demands his obedience. Yes, okay. He can focus on that. This will help him. Just let them take control and soothe away this uncertainness. 

"Yes." He says, and his mouth is quite dry when he does. Henry wets his lips. "Yes, sir. I do intend to behave."

Henry's ears prick up when he hears Hippolyte's voice behind him, asking him that question, paired with the touch along his shoulders. Honestly, he would say he is pretty patient, but . . . there is such a temptation in that statement. He finds himself yearning to know that answer, inhaling ever so sharply as his voice gets closer and he feels him against his behind. Oh, they are going to ruin him. This feels better than being apart from them. 

"Is there?" He asks, turning his head slightly to regard Hyp. "Perhaps I will need... a demonstration." 

Tag: Hippolyte Barthélemy & Connor Morrison

[Connor Morrison]

Tag: Hippolyte Barthélemy  & bunny   Thread: To New Guests and New Friends  It had been far too long, Connor was realising now, since the last time he and Hippolyte had indulged in this. Opportunities were scant, unfortunately — approaching the wrong man could have dire consequences, after all, and few men were open enough about their proclivities that it was ever a safe bet. The last time they had found a suitable man had been two years ago, in Paris. Feisty fellow, fond of talking back — not that he'd been able to do much of that once they were through with him.  Granville was shaping up to be a good deal more compliant. Connor had no complaints to make about that; as much of a pleasure as it was to tame a bit of a brat, there was all sorts of fun to have with a submissive man. He would be lying if he said it didn't boost his ego a little, as well.  Keeping one hand on the front of the artist's trousers, he slipped his free hand around to lazily palm the man's backside as he turned his head to watch Hippolyte. He had been with Granville on enough occasions to know that the man kept an impressive stock of implements in that drawer. "What do you think, Hippolyte?" He dragged his hand upwards a little until he could slip two fingers beneath the back of Granville's waistband, pressing lightly against his skin over the fabric of his shirttails. "Shall we restrain him? Pity to gag him, I think — he makes such pretty little moans."

credit to Laura of Adox