Julian Sterling, being a lover of archeology and dead languages, was clear, quite fixed, on what he should or should not do. The cold lodge he had contrasts with the academic one, which was nothing more than a chaos of emotions and experiment, new students, teachers and apprentices, while the others were engaged in experiments without guidance, he had to be among letters of old diagrams, and the unseemly letters of Maximilian Thorne.
He always thought that Thorne was a good guy, a bit gruff given that he was a man who believed in the force of destruction and life, in his own force. That energy where he was busy breaking everything and destroying what he didn't like, he thought he only focused on his work, because at events, government meetings, he was a different being, more reserved, even discreet.
But by the saints, I was wrong!
Very wrong, he had never had such a big mistake in his mind, he thought that Maximilian's letters were going to be light as if he were talking about his experiments, his machines, but it was crazy, the vulgarity that could be written with ink on the hands of that giant bear of a friend he has.
He still clearly remembers the first letters, trying as always to follow the stages of the project, without losing anything, he liked to be efficient, but Maximilian made it up to him with the letter he responded to.
"Julian,
I have read each of your verses, I have run my fingers through each scented paper you have sent, each letter is a memory of your carefully chosen words to me. The amber aroma has stuck to my skin, since those letters it has permeated my skin, my sheets.
I swear in the name of God, that I was about to burn each letter with the desire and trembling that you have produced in me. How could I not, my beloved, you have called me your iron seed, the gardener who will cultivate your heart. You don't know how much desire you have awakened in me, Sterling. You, who with your fine hands and dead languages have written and dug into my heart, you who have nailed the desire and longing to have you into my chest.
I just want to be in front of you, between your legs kneeling waiting patiently, for your hands to surround my body, for you to look at me, for you to not remember any language or name when I'm there, pushing into your being, your heart, just observing your gaze every minute of that night.
With eternal love, Maximilian."
Julian still did not understand how iron seed, and gardener misunderstood, he was talking about his bio-botanical inventions, and the last paragraph, he understood perfectly what that unseemly man wanted to do to his own body.
I send you a poem in response to that very... vulgar letter. But he wouldn't deny that he did feel him vibrate feverishly with that passion, but that was just his bedroom secret. I look at the poem, it was written in ancient summary. A heavy, sensual and eternal language, so visceral that Thorne's nature, that brute force will have to change, and he will have to understand the poem.
An-aku sha ki en-giz, A-ba-al-ti mu-pi-shum, Sha shabi-ka mu-ul-lu.
"Eternal roots
You, iron seed in the land of the gods, gardener who does not fear the thorn of the abyss. Your hands, those that smell of rain and newborn life, but in it is your strength, indomitable and ancient, which has excavated with a fear in my stone chest. You are not just the born flesh, you are the golden sprout of the solar ruins, which cross my chest to find that sun."
When I finish sealing the letter. Calmly, but with a barely perceptible tremor, I seal it. His chest felt tight, a soft, slightly wicked smile appeared on his lips, he couldn't help but think about how Thorne will have to figure out this letter, although if he's smart, he'll know how to do it. With a unique elegance, I take her perfume and spray the letter, a pure gray loved one from her collection, an essence that is activated by the heat of the skin, those firm and powerful hands will hold the letter with warmth, when I do so my aroma will be impregnated in them, for days.
Soft laughter escaped his lips, he eagerly waited for Thorne to read it, so that each word would sink into him.
⛧°. ⋆༺☾𖤓༻⋆. °⛧
The reception of the letter was utter chaos. When the letter arrived at the biotechnology wing, there was resounding expectation among Maximilian Thorne's apprentices. He himself was impatient, with an excitement that he rarely showed towards correspondence. Therefore when the messenger placed the letter in his hands, Sir Thorne turned it over excitedly, with his heart beating hard against his own ribs, he recognized Julian's eternal grain seal.
Although for a moment, he felt a pang of fear, knowing that his last letter had been indecorous in a not very subtle way, so when he was in the solitude of his office, and the amber aroma began to dance through the air, enveloping every place in it. Maximilian, a man of action and few words, closed his eyes, and gave himself the pleasure of deeply inhaling that envelope. Julian's perfume was intoxicating, ancient and wild at the same time, it motivated him with a voracious hunger.
"Stupid..." He murmured, feeling an electric tingle that ran down his chest, between his legs. The aroma was so longed for, so sensual, I wanted to try it in a thousand ways. He opened the envelope finally, touching the texture of the paper, and slowly tracing his lover's handwriting, Julian was a map in the letters, he had each place danced softly.
As his eyes slid over the verses, he noticed that it was suggested, a language that he shared with him, since he always listened when he studied, although he was not a teacher like him. I had helped him and paid attention to that language, a fairly old language, many of the writings were stories of friendship, with deep preludes.
The poem trembled in his hands, he hit his words hard, his cheeks colored softly. "Iron seed… Gardener who does not fear the thorn….golden sprout of the solar ruins…"
He got up suddenly, and walked towards the window; His hands squeeze that paper that produced thousands of emotions. The silence of his office was so heavy due to the chaos inside, his cat was scratching while his dog was lying on his back, and he just looked like a crazy person walking through the shadows.
"Idiot," Maximilian whispered, his voice hoarse with suppressed desire. "You know exactly where to attack." —
"The worst thing is that it seems like only I am overthinking."
⛧°. ⋆༺☾𖤓༻⋆. °⛧
While this was happening between the archives and the biotechnology garden; In the Astronomy Tower, Alistair Valerius struggled in torment; he had never expected it to be chaos inside him. His target of this was none other than Sebastian Calloway, her icy and consumed beauty had him in chaos. He had always been used to the coldness or nocturnal emptiness of the night, but now he felt like a damn madman in a sea of emotions.
How could I make that cold man's heart vibrate? No matter how many letters and verses he has sent with sweetness, Sebastian is a warrior with all honor, he even had that coldness that was characteristic of warriors. So Alistair had no choice but to talk to his disciples, who sensed him in a talk full of double meaning, between cosmic phenomena and galaxies that make people fall in love, they told him that the best thing they could do for a rigid and cold person was to destroy him verbally with passions and double meaning mockery.
"Sebastian.
My life is based on reading the heavens, seeking order in the immense chaos of galaxies. But last night, through my own impetus of desire, between the lenses of my face, I realized that I have pointed in the wrong directions in your heart. That firmament of ice is impossible to cross with mere words.
I can't help but observe you in that cold way, that ice that has impacted me, I have discovered that it is just a weapon, to hide that unbridled passion that hits inside you. I know that maybe you don't cut me like a person worthy of it, but I will find a way to set it on fire, to ignite that passion. I hope that every time you see me in meetings, you remember that my eyes will travel over every part of your body, be willing to take off everything, from your steel logic to the last piece of clothing you place on your sleepless body.
I am claiming you, I will not be soft or ask permission; You will be mine, you will be claimed, I will desire you so fervently that you will doubt your own sanity.
Yours, consumed by your desire and soul, Alistar Valerius."
The envelope was ready, it was not a simple message, it had gone straight to Sebastian's emotional jugular, he literally told him that he was going to undress him, he hoped that his disciples were right. With trembling fingers, and a slightly altered pulse, he handed the letter to the trusted messenger, the one who was his right hand among the shadows, with a direct order:
—Right into Calloway's hands. Don't stop for anything.
⛧°. ⋆༺☾𖤓༻⋆. °⛧
The halls of Aethelgard were silent, there was a dangerous tension, they were no longer safe. Or perhaps it was the fear of that security that the young Lord Valerius had given him, Malakia did not know what the four dukes were orchestrating, but he must be trustworthy, the Lord would never trust him with anything that was not a perfectly elaborate plan.
But it could not be avoided, at some point they would notice, the constant flow of letters between the towers of the board - Perfumed, sealed letters, sent at an ungodly time, sometimes with flowers. - Which caught the attention of a sleeping puppy in the same academy; The Royal Guard, a cheap excuse for security, which was more of a surveillance eye, a dog on a leash towards the crown.
"Stop Lord Malakia," a guard ordered, the lord's gloved hand instinctively put on his dagger, he hated orders, he only followed Lord Valerius because he gave his place, so the order of a mere dog threaded him. "Orders direct from the council." State secrets are being leaked under the guise of "Private Correspondence"—The guard extended his hand toward the Lord, while the other held his grip.—Hand over the letter.—
—What insolence. Pinero gives an order to a lord, being a mere guard dog, and then requests the letter of an ongoing investigation, you must want to put your neck against the dukes. —I speak to you with disgust, Lord Malakia.—
Malakia knew that the letter in her hands was more than an experiment, and it was because of the amount of perfume that was impregnated in it. His excuse was direct, an investigation into fragrances containing criminal components, that was what they had explained to him. He would make sure to repeat that like he was a lunatic.
Just when the guardian was going to draw his sword, to subdue Lord Malakia; Calloway appeared with surprising impetus. The guard stood in front of him, who now looked angry.
—Are you trying to steal private correspondence, which contains research, between the most high-end scientists? But the worst thing is...Are you trying to steal my cards?— A hoarse voice, which Calloway used only to discipline his guards, emerged.
Calloway felt his heart boiling with annoyance, with anger, at the thought that his precious letter, which he looked forward to every three days, was stolen and read by others. He rose against the guard, who was now retreating in fear.
—That letter is mine. But other than that, I can't believe that the watchdogs had the audacity to intervene in academy secrets, experiments that in the wrong hands could hurt people, civilians, or be used in bad faith. The crown has not told them that it is dangerous, everything is insured. You dogs, you only stick your noses in when you squeeze your neck! —Calloway shouted annoyed.
Before he could unleash more of his Wrath Alistair arrived next to Malakia who had slipped away to warn him. Alistar quickly stepped between them, his hands pushing against Calloway's robust chest. As soon as he felt Alistar's fragrance, he lowered his gaze and looked at him. Calloway's gaze softened for a moment, and soon his gaze cooled when he looked up. The guard felt nervous, he knew that if the young Lord Valerius had not intervened, his head would be outside his body, Lord Calloway was a temperamental man; but he was grateful that it wasn't Thorne, the swordmaster, he hadn't screamed, just slashed.
"These are orders from the captain, Lord Calloway and Lord Valerius." He reported, bowing.
—Calloway, leave it. "We will send a formal complaint to the crown, but now is not the time for this." Alistair snapped, he seemed nervous, but while trying to push him he slipped the letter into his jacket, Calloway felt it, but he didn't say anything.
-Good. Please send the formal complaint Valerius. — Soon both of them took a distance, and the guard, without saying anything, slowly withdrew, while Malakia stayed watching everything attentively, but soon shook her head, as if an idea were absurd.
When the echo of the guard's footsteps finally faded, the trio could finally breathe a little easier. Silence quickly established itself, but also a dense and almost frantic desire to touch each other; Sebastian Calloway did not move immediately, he decided to look a little more at Alistair Valerius, who looked nervous, and soon he let out a big sigh, as if all the tension was gone, which left a bad taste in his mouth. He should not go through unnecessary worries.
—Return to your tower Alistair, and if anything happens, you must notify me immediately. — I reach out and adjust Alistair's now slightly long hair. — Those of the crown are a danger. —
—Yes.— Alistair answered without taking his eyes off Sebastian. —Be careful…—
Sebastian watched as Alistair returned to his tower, followed by a very confused Malakia; He looked down at his jacket, he could feel the weight of that letter, Alistair had slipped it clumsily, but it was there, he could still feel the touch on his chest, those hands pressing on his chest, pushing, strangely he wanted to touch it again.
"You are something impossible to ignore Alistair," Sebastian whispered. His voice that a moment ago sounded like thunder itself, making that soldier collapse, was now a soft voice, full of hoarse desire.
He quickly returned to his sanctuary, as he did every time he received a letter full of those astronomical phrases and references, not that it bothered him, he simply did not understand them, so he took the trouble to research and understand them before he could respond to their letters. He reached an eager hand to his jacket, and pulled out the envelope; He brought the envelope closer to his face, and inhaled Alistair's perfume—the sandalwood mixed with ozone and the old paper of office letters—hit him like a slap. He was shameless, and worst of all, after some letters, he was the most anxious about this relationship, he knew it was an experiment, he understood that there was nothing beyond science.
Although he feels an unhealthy need to hug alistar, inhale his aroma, listen to the star's long extensions of monologues, just to see him speak, smile and get excited at this. When he began to read the letter, his heart began to beat with unbridled madness, like a string without control, his face began to feel a slight heat.
"You claim me..." he murmured, that letter was direct, strong, and at the same time a complete clarification. A bitter smile appeared on his face, he should have been more direct like him, but... Were his emotions the same? Or simply a complex trick for the experiment? "You have no idea what you're doing to me Alistair," I whisper against the paper against his lips.
You must respond immediately, before the meeting with your parents, the monthly meeting they held in the large union hall. Because he needed me to be aware of what he wanted. Sebastian walked towards the work table in his office, with a sudden gesture he pushed everything to the floor, throwing away the gear plans worked on that afternoon. She needed space to write without any problem to her beloved, her gaze sparkled, a desireful shine was reflected in her eyes, without hesitation with palpable determination she wrote.
"Alistair,
In today's night blanket, do not hesitate to look me in the eyes. Make sure you never take your eyes off me, because while you watch me, in front of our friends, parents, and acquaintances, I will undress you with my eyes, eagerly waiting to be alone, to give myself completely to you, and you to me.
Your nighttime lover."