#linnatz

ramen: in hand

phone: in other hand

me: sleep deprived

(your English is just fine! I’m glad to hear you have been enjoying my work. I hope you like this one!)

58. Moving Around While Kissing, Stumbling Over Things, Pushing Each Other Back Against The Wall/Onto The Bed

The day had been long and unsatisfying. Ignatz let out a sigh of relief as he ducked under the awning of the first floor dorms and out of the rain. Nothing had gone right in the least; training in the rain had been miserable, lunch was rationed, art block had made painting near impossible, and now Ignatz faced down the prospect of a meager dinner with a war meeting right after. 

Defeated, Ignatz skirted along the awning towards Linhardt’s door. At least dinner could be had alongside his boyfriend. A disappointing meal was always better with Linhardt’s hand to hold. Maybe after the meeting he could get Linhardt to read to him from one of his Crest books; Linhardt’s voice never failed to relax Ignatz.    

“Linhardt? Are you awake?” Ignatz called as he knocked on Linhardt’s bedroom door. “It’s time for--”

The sentence died as Ignatz caught sight of Linhardt in the center of the room. The long crimson skirts, the shining crown-like belt, the exposed shoulders; Linhardt was unmistakably wearing a Gremory class outfit. Ignatz’s eyes drank in the vision before him, mouth going dry.  

“You like it then,” Linhardt pointed out with a smirk. He adjusted the feathers behind his head, fiddling with his hair so it fell in front of his shoulder. 

“Uh...” Was all Ignatz could say.

“I noticed you had trouble painting today. I remember you saying how much you liked Marianne’s Gremory outfit so I stole Dorothea’s. She’s the closest to my height,” Linhardt added, as if that was the most important information to Ignatz right now.  

Ignatz swallowed as Linhardt gave a slow turn. The chest area looked a little strange with nothing to fill it out, but the fabric clung across Linhardt’s back, the sight accentuated by the intricate metal belts hanging there. The necklace and collar looked made for Linhardt. It was hard to look away from his shoulders. 

When Linhardt faced Ignatz again, he frown thoughtfully. “How does Dorothea pose again? Ah!” He held one hand up, elbow bent, the tips of his fingers almost touching his hair. The other he held out to his side. One foot slid forward, just visible under the skirts due to the cut being an inch or so too short for Linhardt. “There! Does that strike any inspiration in you? I took out your sketchbook, it’s on the desk. It was a lot of trouble sneaking around Dorothea’s dorm so hopefully you get all the details you--”

It was Linhardt’s turn to leave a sentence unfinished as Ignatz cut him off with a kiss. Linhardt’s surprise lasted only a second before he was tugging at Ignatz’s soaking wet clothes to get him closer. Ignatz rested his hands just above Linhardt’s belts, thumbs rubbing into the soft fabric over Linhardt’s hips. The top, loose at it already was, slipped further down Linhardt’s shoulder, and Ignatz wasted no time kissing along the newly exposed skin. Linhardt let out a moan and tried to pull Ignatz backwards towards the bed.

“W-Wait,” Ignatz drew away. “Sorry, we have to eat something. There’s going to be a war meeting later.”

He tried to pull Linhardt towards the door, thinking if he could get it open then Linhardt would realize he was serious. But Linhardt just pressed in for another kiss and redoubled his efforts. The tug of war lasted until Linhardt suddenly pushed Ignatz forward, pinning him against the door firmly and drawing a groan from Ignatz. 

“Let’s be late,” Linhardt said, pressing kisses to Ignatz’s chin and slowly removing his glasses. “Let’s miss it all together.” He chuckled when Ignatz slid the top down more to bury his red face in Linhardt’s neck. “I should steal clothes more often. What shall I wear next? Maybe Ferdinand’s dancer outfit...?”

Ignatz wanted to say Linhardt shouldn’t steal from their friends but the image of him in such a garment made the last shred of Ignatz’s sense of duty fly out the window. He kicked off the door, kissing Linhardt backwards until they tumbled to the bed. Linhardt’s victory laugh turned into a gasp as Ignatz’s tongue traced the bottom of the collar. “I’ll apologize to Claude and the Professor later,” Ignatz swore, more to settle his conscience than because he thought Linhardt cared.

“You apologize way too much.”

“Sorry.”

“So predictable. It’s amazing I don’t find you boring yet.” Even as Linhardt spoke, he was unbuttoning Ignatz’s jacket and tugging his belts.

Ignatz dived back in for another kiss. There could be more long rainy days like this, as far as Ignatz was concerned, as long as they ended with Linhardt.