Golden: 1819.

[ofthefamily]

An old face. Calmer, older, and yet all the same unchanged.

At least he's not running for his life, now. And he knows where he is.

For Carlisle Cullen, this is always a good start.

Comments

[themidnightson]

"You could-" slips out before he realizes it has, as thought responding to a conversation only he's having, but Carlisle had, at least in his thoughts, bee part of.

He can't flush. Resists the temptation to bury his face to skin before him. "He never-" It's almost sacrilege here and now, isn't it? Except for how it's always there somewhere, in, around. When the terms finally separate.

[ofthefamily]

i'm not him.

let me do this!

[themidnightson]

It might be too big. It stays in his mouth.

Edward nodded his head against the skin it rested on.

[ofthefamily]

Yes!




The only form of communication Carlisle manages after another few minutes is a hand like a vice on Edward's upper thigh when he is close.

[themidnightson]

Edward's chest moved up and down regardless of breath being wholly inconsequential and heart beat being utterly absent, cheek brushing against Carlisle's body as he found himself at a loss for suddenly what to do with his wants or his thoughts.

With dragging his mouth across Carlisle's skin, wanting to give him back everything, even when the world begins to disintegrate out from under him, across his mind in rolling waves that for a few seconds seem to cancel out all the noise, all the control over his own body.

[ofthefamily]

When the world returns to its proper axis (whatever that is), Carlisle lifts off and away from Edward, somehow ending up at the perfect location to kiss Edward's knees.

[themidnightson]

It's never as slow a return as he'd like.

There's the amazing explosion that feels endless, like it's a rolling whiteness that everything is blighted by. And then the moment the ripples soften even slightly, the sound turns back on, piercing behind and across everything else.

He could hate them for that alone.

He does stifle most of that reaction at the sensation on his knees. Opening his eyes, lazy and golden and only faintly annoyed, rather than troubled, to lay the words unsaid against that face.

[ofthefamily]

"Mmmpf."

A small, slightly immature Tasty! happens, and Carlisle laughs at himself.

[themidnightson]

Edward half rolled his eyes, and there was something of a stifled scoff, but he twitched one of his legs, knocking his knee into Carlisle.

[ofthefamily]

"What! I do not lie."

[themidnightson]

"I'm not discussing that."

Which may be the topic of choice. Or the flavor of choice.

Either way Edward settles for rolling up to sitting, kissing Carlisle's hairline.

[ofthefamily]

Well you are is Carlisle's final petulant note, and he rearranges himself to lean against Edward's form.








"...this room is starting to be rather off-putting. Who would enjoy this?"

[themidnightson]

"What room?" Edward said, with blatant disregard.

He was only looking steadily at Carlisle.

"I don't see a room at all."

[ofthefamily]

"You're just being kind."

[themidnightson]

Edward reached out, a hand softly landing against Carlisle's cheek. Finger tips spreading, lazy slow strokes until his palm is against Carlisle's cheek at the same time as Edward's head dipped to the side of Carlisle's on the other side, to whisper right near his ear.

"Or I'm saving you from thinking about what you did to me, and what I still want to do to you, in the very small, very beloved children's nursery."

[ofthefamily]

Carlisle groans.

I hope they clean well?

[themidnightson]

Edward chuckled, small and bemused, ironic. Thoughts and reactions. Carlisle was a good man in anytime. And haphazardly placed a kiss against the place he'd been whispering, catching a very small bit of ear and jaw and neck.

[ofthefamily]

"I'm humorous now."

Carlisle starts humming something terribly appropriate for the room they are currently occupying, reaching for Edward's hips again --

"Frère Jacques, Frère Jacques, Dormez-vous?
Dormez-vous?"

[themidnightson]

Edward smothered a laugh against his skin, scooting closer.

"As though there were a second to waste on that."
Beat. "Or on your have too much clothing still."

Which is what Edward's hands turned to taking care of. Button by button, perhaps, nearly in beat to the humming.

[ofthefamily]

"You are terribly problematic."

[themidnightson]

"Am I?" Edward looked curious, but his lip canted crookedly.
As though this could not be so bad a thing.

[ofthefamily]

"God above," Carlisle breathes, staring at Edward again with a hooded eye, "I love the problems you cause."

[themidnightson]

Edward's laugh was quiet small, almost like the breath he didn't need. "i'll remember not to apologize for them too often, then." Trailing finger tips across Carlisle's skin as he finished up the buttons.