#i can feel how your flesh now is crying out for more | cal ♡ atticus | malhommesage

[radicheart-a]

🎲 (from @malhommesage heeheeeeee)

Send 🎲 to generate a kiss!

4. A kiss to the top of the head

As soon as his alternate is in range and climbs into their shared bed, Cal is moving closer so he can slip both arms around him and press a kiss between his ears, in front of his antlers. "Hello, love~"

[radicheart]

headbutting. because he can and will.

( @malhommesage )

He's headbutting back before nuzzling their noses together. "Bonjou mon amour."

[malhommesage]

Currently making goo-goo eyes at his boyfriend.

[radicheart-a]

coming up to pluck some of those flowers off antlers, curious to watch them burn in his fingers.

“darling… what in the hells is going on with your rack?”

( @malhommesage )

"DON'T BURN THOSE!!"

Oops. That...struck a bit of a nerve, apparently. Not in the sense that he's angry. Instead, he sounds panicked, as if those flowers were absolutely priceless.

He hasn't even noticed that he'd snapped his hands out to grasp onto Icus' wrists, holding them in a vice-like grip while staring at the flower he'd set alight.

It takes him a moment, but soon he's snapping his head up to look at his alternate, blinking a bit while loosening his grip. He'd taken himself by surprise with that outburst.

"I..." Why did he do that? How does he explain this?

[radicheart-a]

@malhommesage (continued)

"Mmh..."

That hum sounds incredibly content, and the smile on his face widens when those fingers rake through his hair. Then, there's a slight grimace as he shifts his hips ever so slightly and something in his arching back cracks.

No, this position isn't comfortable. Maybe he should be moved.

[malhommesage]

He's been told by an anonymous person to kiss the alternates that won't kill him. That's why he's here.

"Bonjour," he greets, before his right hand gently wraps its clawed fingers under his alternate's chin and leans in to press their lips together in a chaste kiss.

oh! his cute calloway! he loves the unexpected kiss! placing his claws on the other’s hips, pulling him nice and close so he can peck kisses against those smiling lips.

“bonjour, mon amor.”

[radicheart-a]

“I think I want to marry you.”

(@malhommesage)

Send “I think I wanna marry you” for my muse to react to your muse saying it.

"If you asked I would say yes."

[radicheart-a]

@malhommesage (continued)

"Atticus." He visibly relaxes, glances down at the needle in his claws, then looks at his alternate with a soft sigh of defeat. "It would be wise to accept the offer, even if it injures my pride."

[malhommesage]

"Fuck…"

Calloway sighs and folds his ears back as he summons a needle and thread to fix some of his stitches with. The injury he'd gotten from Adam roughly two weeks ago still hasn't healed over; in fact, its progress is alarmingly slow. It looks almost as raw as the day it was made.

Mid stitch, his ears stand straight up, and his head lifts so he can look around. "…who's there? Show yourself!"

the stag appears in the doorway, hand tight against the center of his back, looking towards towards his alternate.

“my darling calloway,”

he hummed quietly, taking a brisk step forward and kneeling down towards the other.

“do you need help with that?”

[malhommesage]

"Happy Valentine's Day, my love!" He's offering a bag of Anise Squares.

what a happy buck he’s been made into! anise was his favorite thing to snack on! don’t mind him eating some right now!

“much appreciated, my darling, and a happy valentine’s day to you.”

[malhommesage]

You should go kiss cal I think :3

“while i typically believe in one’s minding their own business,”

“i just might!”

[radicheart-a]

“I mean….” ( @malhommesage )

Put "I mean…" in my inbox if your muse has masturbated thinking about my muse. Put “I mean…KIND OF” if it was on more than one occasion.

"Really now?"

Look at that smug grin.

[radicheart-a]

He glances over as the broken half is tossed and clatters against the distant floor. Already the gears in his head are turning, but he'll keep that to himself for now. He wants it to be a surprise.

"Horribly. Once I'm better I'll look into how to fix it."

He sighs and slumps his head against Atticus' shoulder, exhausted.

“hilarious.”

one palm slid out to grab the lower half of his cane, and then he threw it off to the side, clearly pissed off about it.

“the same thing happened to me. awfully convenient, hm?”

now he can’t even stand up. he depended on that damn thing for everything.

[malhommesage]

The deer knew how exhausting it was just existing in another realm, but to see his partner so peacefully spread out without a care in the world? It’d be a lie to claim it didn’t make his dead heart squeeze in his chest.

What was he dreaming about?

Stepping over on his own hooves, he gazed downward over his glasses and carded a few fingers over Cal’s head, smiling to himself.

Though, that position could not be comfortable. Dare he attempt to move his sleeping lover and face a possible crabby deer?

@radicheart

It's rare to find Alastor asleep anywhere but his own room, or the radio tower -- but here he is, in the hotel lounge, fast asleep.

He's slumped over the rather small two-seater in front of the fireplace, with his left leg dangling clean over the side, its knee resting on the floor and aiding in keeping him from rolling off. The right leg is stretched out with nearly half of it jutting awkwardly over the couch's arm opposite his head due to him being too tall for it.

His right arm is folded beneath his head to act as a pillow, while the left arm is also dangling over the side, bent inward and palm down, his sharp fingers splayed out across the floorboards. Near that hand, somewhat scattered out, are a fountain pen and several papers -- hotel business, like bills and inventory and, most importantly, a ledger of who is currently staying there. He'd been updating it before seemingly drifting off and dropping it all.

The red-lensed, gold-rimmed glasses he wears are folded and lying on the nearby end table. The coat with tattered edges and vest that he usually wears are both neatly folded and draped over the couch's back, leaving him in just his black dress shirt, red bowtie, and pants. No shoes, either; those are positioned at the end of the couch his leg is dangling off of...which means his hooves are on full display. So is his tail, which offers a tiny twitch every once in a while as he keeps sleeping -- breathing deeply and still wearing a slight smile on his face.

Overall...he looks really peaceful.

[radicheart-a]

Yes — and he still wishes he could kill her.

this alastor has a terrible mother…. does that count?

[radicheart-a]

"Too close."

Cal loosens his grip so he can slide out from sitting on his knees in front of Atticus, settling in side by side with him instead so he can relax. A hand drapes loosely over his aching chest as he slumps down and sighs.

"That angelic cad did break my staff..."

the grip hurts but the only thing that sounds from him because of it is a small wheeze. he’d kill anyone who’d harmed his calloway. his own talons grip tighter. everything was starting to spin. the adrenaline wore off.

“it was a rather… close call.”

any deeper and that weapon could have pierced his dead heart. would that have even done anything? probably.