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kennahijja(written for the anonymous Cantarella Kink Meme over at ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
la_cantarella, with a bit of arm-twisting encouragement from ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
liriaen)
Prompt: voyeurism
Pairing: Taddeo/Cesare/Chiaro
Length: ~ 400 words (that's as drabblish as I get)
Taddeo knows he shouldn't watch them. He should keep watch because Cesare has enemies and the whore he's currently fucking is the one who should guard his rooms and shield his back; but he shouldn't watch. But there is something hypnotic in the sinuous tangle of limbs on Cesare's bed, so he does.
Watches Cesare's body bend over the assassin's, whose face is pressed into the pillow, averted from Taddeo's eyes. The murderer's hair sticks out in spiky, sweat-darkened spikes.
Watches Cesare's back, the tense coil of spine and buttocks radiating a ferocity contained to pleasure his slut. Taddeo wouldn't permit him to hold back no matter the cost, not with Cesare's need crackling off him like lightning.
The hem of Cesare's cardinal's robe still haphazardly covers one buttock and leg, a mantle of blood dulled by the smoke that drifts lazily off a coal brazier lighted to do battle with the humid night. The pair, moving below the open alcove, doesn't notice, but acrid smoke stings Taddeo's eyes.
A soft gasp, an arch of the back that makes the vertebrae stand out like buttons under milky skin reveals that Cesare has taken his pleasure. He leans forward, whispers against the assassin's neck. Michelotto half-turns, the semblance of stunned innocence narrowing into a predatory glint. Taddeo's hand flies to his dagger as he rolls over, tumbling Cesare onto his back and capturing Cesare's wrists above his head. Presses him down into the pillows.
The blade, well-oiled, whispers out of its sheath; there is no loyalty in this hired killer, nor honour. One day the blade will turn upon its master, Taddeo knows. Perhaps today.
It's Cesare's face that freezes him in mid-move. Eyes, heavy-lidded and sultry like a pampered cat's, the smile that tickles his lips as he looks up at the assassin. Cesare parts his thighs, lets them splay open to accommodate Michelotto in between; reaches up for the assassin's body while his hair drips over the pillow in tendrils of spilled ink.
Taddeo turns away before he has to watch his master opening himself to this whore lifted up from the sewers.
His hand burns from the crushing grip on the dagger handle; when he finally prises his fingers away, the outline of Cesare Borgia's coat of arms blazes in the centre of his palm.
He presses the swelling mark to his lips, straightens; resumes his vigil.
la_cantarella, with a bit of liriaen)Prompt: voyeurism
Pairing: Taddeo/Cesare/Chiaro
Length: ~ 400 words (that's as drabblish as I get)
Taddeo knows he shouldn't watch them. He should keep watch because Cesare has enemies and the whore he's currently fucking is the one who should guard his rooms and shield his back; but he shouldn't watch. But there is something hypnotic in the sinuous tangle of limbs on Cesare's bed, so he does.
Watches Cesare's body bend over the assassin's, whose face is pressed into the pillow, averted from Taddeo's eyes. The murderer's hair sticks out in spiky, sweat-darkened spikes.
Watches Cesare's back, the tense coil of spine and buttocks radiating a ferocity contained to pleasure his slut. Taddeo wouldn't permit him to hold back no matter the cost, not with Cesare's need crackling off him like lightning.
The hem of Cesare's cardinal's robe still haphazardly covers one buttock and leg, a mantle of blood dulled by the smoke that drifts lazily off a coal brazier lighted to do battle with the humid night. The pair, moving below the open alcove, doesn't notice, but acrid smoke stings Taddeo's eyes.
A soft gasp, an arch of the back that makes the vertebrae stand out like buttons under milky skin reveals that Cesare has taken his pleasure. He leans forward, whispers against the assassin's neck. Michelotto half-turns, the semblance of stunned innocence narrowing into a predatory glint. Taddeo's hand flies to his dagger as he rolls over, tumbling Cesare onto his back and capturing Cesare's wrists above his head. Presses him down into the pillows.
The blade, well-oiled, whispers out of its sheath; there is no loyalty in this hired killer, nor honour. One day the blade will turn upon its master, Taddeo knows. Perhaps today.
It's Cesare's face that freezes him in mid-move. Eyes, heavy-lidded and sultry like a pampered cat's, the smile that tickles his lips as he looks up at the assassin. Cesare parts his thighs, lets them splay open to accommodate Michelotto in between; reaches up for the assassin's body while his hair drips over the pillow in tendrils of spilled ink.
Taddeo turns away before he has to watch his master opening himself to this whore lifted up from the sewers.
His hand burns from the crushing grip on the dagger handle; when he finally prises his fingers away, the outline of Cesare Borgia's coat of arms blazes in the centre of his palm.
He presses the swelling mark to his lips, straightens; resumes his vigil.
no subject
Date: 2009-03-25 10:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-26 08:02 am (UTC)Not remotely holding the candle to your Cesare/Taddeo piece though!
And incidentally, this made me realise I only seem to be able to look at the main Cantarella characters through outside observers... weird, non? Bit like Snape...
no subject
Date: 2009-03-26 10:52 am (UTC)Outside looking in, is that so? Mh, you used Orsini as a lens before, true. I wonder, though, Perhaps you just don't write enough Cantarella. Heh. but I don't blame you. It's a thankless, thankless task.
OT
Date: 2009-03-26 10:08 pm (UTC)Re: OT
Date: 2009-03-30 12:04 am (UTC)