#myapprentice

He was still adjusting to the feeling of being lifted by the waist and spun excitedly by the now much more corporeal Count. There wasn’t much human contact he knew, other than sleeping beside Asra and coincidentally waking up in a tangle of limbs. This was alright, though, nothing he couldn’t get used to if Lucio was going to keep reveling in his new form by smothering Celio with it.

Unfortunately for the magician’s stoic facade, Lucio was a much more uninhibited current of joy and proceeded to crowd his lips onto Celio’s cheek. Stunned into place as he was let back down onto the snow, the dull rush of blood in his ears rose in volume and his eyes widened. Taking a step back, a smile of disbelief grew on his face. His eyes rose to meet Lucio’s own red stained ones, squinting to try and clarify the situation in his own mind.

It wasn’t long before he breathed out a chuckle. “Did you just-?” Tentatively raising his hand to feel the warmth still on his cheek, his gaze was fixed on the other man in front of him. “Kiss me?”

Lucio already seemed perfectly aware of what the question would be, hip cocked to one side and grin plastered on his countenance. He assumed an air of thought regardless. “Hmm. Pretty sure I did.” The answer was topped off with a salacious wink.

Celio dropped his hand and huffed out a breath at the forwardness that came next.

“Do I have to work harder to get kisses in return? I can do that.” There was a shameless flirty lilt to the Count’s voice now, sauntering towards Celio and gesturing with both arms as he continued. “I’ll just say it, Celio. You’re a lot of fun.” First time he had heard that one. He blinked and shut the jaw he only now realized was hanging open. “We haven’t known each other long, but you’re a smart, cute, hotshot magician. What’s not to like?” Lucio was no more than two feet in front in him now, each word dripping with sensual intent, yet sincere in attitude as his lips quirked.

The game of harmless flirtation was something Celio prided himself on recognizing at an instant’s notice. It was a trick learned from Asra to barter his way around the market, commonly engaging in it as practice at home. Straightening his posture, he raised his eyebrows and prompted Lucio to continue, prepared to rebut anything he would say by one-upping him.

“So… how about I kiss you properly this time?” Lucio ducked his head and a smirk graced his face again, hand resting on his hip.

Ignoring the flip his heart gave at the suggestion, Celio mirrored Lucio’s own cheeky expression and proceeded to taunt him with a roll of his eyes. “Well, then. What are you you waiting for-”

Out of the corner of his vision there was a blur of white, red, and blonde. He had no time to finish his sentence or process what had happened. Suddenly he felt the unmistakable warmth that had been upon his cheek, now colliding with his lips. Instinctively bracing his hands on the other’s arms and doubling back, Celio’s lips part in a gasp against Lucio’s own. Taking this as incentive, Lucio presses his body closer into Celio and wraps a cool golden hand into his blonde nape, his warmer right arm reaching around his narrow waist as his tongue slips onto the other man’s bottom lip and past it to meet tongue. Celio’s eyelids drift shut at the new sensation.

The stutter his heart had given before was now a full-blown riot in his chest, feeling every inch of Lucio’s front pressed into him. A cold breeze rushes past them both, making Celio grow aware of the burn in his cheeks and ears. He savors another ravenous swipe of Lucio’s tongue and finally shifts his face to the side for breath.

His hands had twined themselves into Lucio’s white lapels in the frenzy, and he stares at the Count’s smooth bare chest, drags of breath slowly returning to normal. Loosening his grip and dropping his shoulders, he finally raises his eyes again to gauge if he was the only frazzled member of the kiss. A first kiss for him, as far as his faulty memory was concerned.

Lucio’s eyes twinkled minutely before flashing the brightest smile he had since the two had met. “I’m terrible at waiting…” There was that incorrigible wink again. Celio found he was already used to it, leaning into Lucio’s gentle touch upon his reddened cheek. In both of their eyes was a yearning that had felt momentarily settled.

Touch.

It seemed the blonde had more to say, however, as he smoothed his golden hand down Celio’s shoulder, “and I love instant gratification,” down his flexed arm, “and I’ve been told that I move fast,” sweeping over his chest to rest on his fluttering heart, “but I like to think of it as seizing every opportunity for some good fun.” His lips flitted upwards at the corners as he stepped backwards from the other man, leaning against a tree they had somehow managed to miss in their fall through the realms.

The pose he assumes is utterly conspicuous, elbow resting to support his entire weight as he hooks one leg in front of the other. His chest becomes the main point of attention, gauntlet hooking into his lapel and drawing it out of the way. Celio’s face only continues to divulge his flustered thoughts, lit up in a crimson haze. As his eyes wander over Lucio’s form, he notices snowflakes landing and melting on the pale skin. Something spurs in him, competitive nature still not appeased from the checkmate he had been played.

Lucio’s next words flow like melted butter, playful nature bouncing off of each syllable. “You know, Celio, I’m also a generous kind of guy.” He quirks an eyebrow, rouge eyes opening and smirk ceaseless. “So… would you like more? I’d totally understand if you did. Just look at what a glorious specimen I am!” Underneath Lucio’s confidence, there’s a silent plea to have his own wish for more granted.

He had unknowingly given the brunette the perfect opportunity to play the best hand at his own game. Celio had already felt his entire body on him, mouth merging with his. There was nothing wrong with making him wait to be indulged with the touch he craved once again. Celio slowly lifts one foot in front of the other as he stares Lucio down. “Hmm… I’m not sure. That’s a tricky question.” Another step and a husky voice escapes his lips. “What exactly do you mean by more?”

With Celio’s eyes locked on him, Lucio’s smirk melds into a genuine and eager smile as he awaits his approach. “More of me, of course! The Count of Vesuvia, beloved ruler and valiant warrior.” As he speaks, his smile becomes toothy and proud, as if a little boy was bragging about winning against his friends. The stance he commands sells the concept, chest puffed out with fists resting on his hips. Celio’s predatory gaze falters as he takes the sight in, a silent huff of laughter escaping through his nose.

“You know, you look a little chilly for a valiant warrior.” Finally meeting Lucio at the tree, his hands drift upwards and begin to lace up the front of his white shirt, eyes trained on his deft work, carefully sliding his nails every so often over the skin.

Lucio’s smile falls and his eyebrows quirk into a nervous furrow, a breathless voice trying not to waver. “Hey, you’re not playing fair.” Celio keeps his head ducked and he eyes him through his eyelashes.

“What are you talking about? I’m making sure you don’t catch a cold.” There’s faux-innocence in the gentle smile he gives him, very aware of how soon Lucio will crack. Each shudder pulled out of him from Celio’s feather-light fingertips matches the growing intensity of Lucio’s gaze on him. He’s about to latch the final cord of the shirt onto the button when his wrist is grasped forcefully. Hand now splayed onto the chest he’d been avoiding, he watches as Lucio’s skin raises goosebumps from the contrast of human warmth to melted cold snow.

Celio straightens his neck, and Lucio’s promiscuous expression throws him off his own kilter, a mild blush tinting the Count’s face. “Oh, you’re so mean.” A tight-lipped smirk appears, and Lucio cants his face forward, a breath’s width away from Celio’s own as he purrs out, “and I’m alright with that.” He remains in his space, daring Celio to defy him as he focuses on the mouth in front of him.

The magician finally cracks as well, forgetting the game entirely as a grin spreads across his face and he leans in to meet his lips again. As he presses Lucio against the tree, he allows himself to savor the wet warmth he’d been too shocked to truly appreciate. Taking the initiative Lucio had before, he slides his own tongue onto Lucio’s and slips out a groan from deep in the other’s throat. Their arms tangle into each other’s clothing, covering every inch of surface they can manage, Lucio beginning to hike his leg up Celio’s thigh when another forceful breeze interrupts their session.

Lucio rips their mouths apart to scowl, and catch his breath. “I hate the cold.” He presses his face into the juncture of Celio’s neck and shoulder and smiles against the skin there. “Though it’s not so bad with you here.” Leaning back to reach for Celio’s hands, he coaxes them together in the space between their chests. A smile reaches his eyes as he blows on both pairs of hands in an attempt to warm them.

Celio takes a moment to marvel at the intricacy of the golden gauntlet, now that he’s become so intimate with it. The pulsing white veins call to him and he wonders if perhaps he could influence the magic there to act as a temporary heat pack. He opens his mouth to inform Lucio of the idea, when another harsh wind flies through the trees and rustles the resting snow on the branches above. Celio barely has time to react as Lucio twists away and shields himself, front remaining untouched but back entirely covered in the powdered ice.

“Ack! Pbbth! Rude, tree!” Lucio practically growls upwards at nothing as he shakes himself off like a wet hound. “Interrupting our fun…” He swipes at his cape, movements futile as the snow melts into his body heat. Celio manages a chuckle before stepping behind Lucio and leaning over his shoulder to propose a solution.

“Let me help. You’re going to get both of us all wet.” Lucio turns back towards him, and his demeanor placates as their eyes meet, waving an arm in invitation. Celio waggles his fingers, recalling the thought of heat magic to begin to skillfully evaporate the snow off of Lucio’s clothes. Reaching around his collar, the blonde presses his lips to Celio’s hands as he works, peppering fleeting kisses of gratitude and infatuation. As the magician lifts his hands to dry Lucio’s hair, he catches one of Celio’s wrists in an open mouthed kiss, laving his tongue over the heated skin. Celio startles and his magic fades, one hand tangled in Lucio’s hair and the other at the mercy of his teeth.

Lucio’s gaze is the very definition of coquetry as he drawls out a response to the bemused look in the magician’s eyes. “Don’t mind me. Just showing my appreciation.”

Celio sighs out the breath that had caught in his throat, eyes scanning the snowy expanse around them. “Riiiight. Of course.” Once Lucio releases him, he takes note of the flush that had spread to the Count’s chest as he steps away from the tree. He realizes that although they showed their dazed states differently, one seeking it out unrepentant and the other making effort to quell it; they were still very much both flustered at how entranced with each other they had become.

Through all of Lucio’s unpredictability, the promise of wanting more, regardless of how, seemed to hold. Celio’s eyes drift over the impossibly tall tree, and he locks away the thought that he wouldn’t mind sharing those promises if Lucio was safely returned back to the realm of the living.

His mind refocuses on the task at hand, magic overwhelms his senses and he’s happy to put away the thought of ever having kissed the Count as a meaningless moment in meaningless time.