shipwreck_light: Portrait of Tian by DoroDraws. (Tian)
Shipwreck Light ([personal profile] shipwreck_light) wrote in [community profile] rainbowfic2013-08-18 09:38 pm

Ember #14

Author: SWL
Story: Jealous of Roses, Arc 0
Index: Click Here.
Colors: Ember #14- Heat
Styles and Materials: Originally from a meme request by [personal profile] bookblather.
Word Count: 500ish
Summary: Duclos has a cold. Tian does something about it.
Rating: X
Warnings: NSFW.
The following are always welcome: comments, constructive criticism, collaboration inquiries, cake.

The winter Duclos catches the city doom cold is miserable. Duclos is, after all, one of half the population. The streets seem to be sneezing in and of their asphalt selves.

Duclos puts on her fluffiest housecoat and crawls into bed. She refuses to move, take phone calls, eat anything besides rye crackers, have anyone killed or fix her hair. It's kind of pathetic. That, and the way she moans /every single time/ after she blows her nose.

Siebenkas plays with fire powder in his lord's chambers. He tells her stories and has her drink brandy like it's water.

Nene drops off several duffle bags full of dubious movies and more brandy. Her lord is, if nothing else, amused by the /Emmanuelle/ ones. At least, after the brandy.

Austin shows up with a bag from the hardware store and builds her one of those whirl-shaded moodlights as a matter of performance art. He says nothing the whole damn time. But, the light matches the rest of the quarters perfectly and it gives something Duclos to commiserate with when she's up coughing at 3AM.

Ambra also has to doom cold. Tian doesn't know what she's doing about it.

Duclos has just blown her nose. The moan comes.

It's been four days of this now. It's pouring rain. There's no more /Emmanuelle/.

Tian stalks over to the comforter heap. It's a rumpled mess. So is Duclos.

"I'm almost out of tissues."


Tian nods.

She grabs Duclos and kisses her as hard as she can- finds her mouth sour, her lips papery dry, her throat twined with this swannish little squeal. But, she still kisses her, and after she insists on the whole breathing thing, kisses her again. There's a snot involved. So what?

She yanks her robe open, dragging her out of it before she tosses the thing. The comforters, those go back, but only long enough that Tian can pounce, crouch over Duclos's lap and /growl/.

Her skin carries that metallic note of illness and she's damp from snuggling in the robe so long, but that's no more than a change in the slant of the sunlight. It's still her underneath all that. She tastes of Alexandra, carries the same clots of flinching delight on the insides of her thighs. Tian nips her way over her. She marks. She reminds. She makes the body beneath that much warmer than that damn robe ever could and fingers the tangles out of her hair. That before she settles in. Spreads her lord.

She still is that. Sick or not. Lover or whatever or not.

Tian devours. Holds her open on her fingertips, sucks and nibbles until screams. But, that's hardly the end just like it's hardly the start of anything they have between them.

She licks the fever out. At least, she gets Duclos dripping, torn up in orgasms.

That's better.

Tian wonders if she can, in fact, catch the doom cold herself.

Doesn't matter.

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