[Men named Landau have always chased down what they wanted and captured it, but Sampo's always been the one thing that Gepard has never been able to catch, isn't he?]
[Well, now that he's in Gepard's arms, that's kind of like catching him. But Gepard is very sweet when he's holding Sampo, his hands warm and gentle even through the fabric of Sampo's suit, so very accepting of every kiss that he presses to his face and throat. It's a far cry from what Landau men are supposed to be, all strength and unyielding will, supposed paragons of the Preservation.]
[Sampo drops this paragon of the Preservation's silk tie to the ground, then makes short work of the buttons holding up his starched collar. When they yield, there's even more pale skin for him to kiss; he lays a soft trail over an old scar that runs down the side of Gepard's neck, where some nasty thing must have cut him years ago.]
So you didn't even try? [It's not quite as fun if you throw the match, Gepard.] If you'd won anyway, would you have asked for it?
[His hands drop down to Gepard's vest, making short work of those buttons, too. He's very good at undoing buttons without looking, almost as though he's had practice. (He has, partly because of Gepard. It's why he's so good at removing guard uniforms now, too, from getting the good Captain out of his so many times.)]
I'll give it back when we're done. [Away with the vest, to join the tie on the ground. Sampo tugs Gepard's shirt out of the waistband of his trousers, keeps plowing through those buttons. If there wouldn't be a need to get Gepard back into all of this frippery at the end of their tryst, he might have been tempted to just pull the shirt apart and damn the buttons.] It's a nice medal, I like the ribbon. What was it for?
[What great act of heroism got Gepard Landau a medal with a green ribbon?]
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2024-10-18 11:21 pm (UTC)[Well, now that he's in Gepard's arms, that's kind of like catching him. But Gepard is very sweet when he's holding Sampo, his hands warm and gentle even through the fabric of Sampo's suit, so very accepting of every kiss that he presses to his face and throat. It's a far cry from what Landau men are supposed to be, all strength and unyielding will, supposed paragons of the Preservation.]
[Sampo drops this paragon of the Preservation's silk tie to the ground, then makes short work of the buttons holding up his starched collar. When they yield, there's even more pale skin for him to kiss; he lays a soft trail over an old scar that runs down the side of Gepard's neck, where some nasty thing must have cut him years ago.]
So you didn't even try? [It's not quite as fun if you throw the match, Gepard.] If you'd won anyway, would you have asked for it?
[His hands drop down to Gepard's vest, making short work of those buttons, too. He's very good at undoing buttons without looking, almost as though he's had practice. (He has, partly because of Gepard. It's why he's so good at removing guard uniforms now, too, from getting the good Captain out of his so many times.)]
I'll give it back when we're done. [Away with the vest, to join the tie on the ground. Sampo tugs Gepard's shirt out of the waistband of his trousers, keeps plowing through those buttons. If there wouldn't be a need to get Gepard back into all of this frippery at the end of their tryst, he might have been tempted to just pull the shirt apart and damn the buttons.] It's a nice medal, I like the ribbon. What was it for?
[What great act of heroism got Gepard Landau a medal with a green ribbon?]