trisdupont-blog

[trisdupont-blog]

“As if you need to make such an opportunity,” Tristan scoffs playfully. He’s pleased that the reactions are not just one sided, that he can raise a blush to Holden’s skin just as readily as his boy can do for him. Tristan’s mind is somewhere between ogling every inch of skin and mapping out the drawing he wants to do. It’s difficult, being this attracted to the model of his work and he bobs his head in a very serious nod as Holden repeats his instruction. Tristan has to clamp his teeth into his lower lip as Holden begins to follow orders, draping his limbs in a way that immediately has Tristan regretting every ounce of his professionalism. He wants nothing more than to pounce, to coat his love’s skin in hickeys, to make sure he knew how lovely he truly was to Tristan. “Nearly, mon amor,” he purrs in a voice that’s gone far too soft and he sets down book and pencil to approach. He touches Holden lightly on the shoulder, angling him a little on the bed. Though the skin feels aflame where his fingers land, he smooths his palm down the muscles of one of Holden’s legs before crooking the other at the knee. The bent leg he nudges a bit further away from the straightened one and Tristan’s fingertips dance along his inner thigh, breath caught in his throat. “Comfortable?” the boy asks in a gentle whisper, unable to resist leaning in to press a kiss to Holden’s forehead.

❝ ━ we found love right where we are ❞

Holden chuckles at that, because – yeah, true. “Okay, so maybe I was just looking for an opportunity to get naked for you,” he teases, a goofy grin edging at his lips. But as soon as his boyfriend’s eyes scan the length of his nearly-naked body, whatever else Holden was planning on saying remains at the back of his throat. A flush spreads down the expanse of the older boy’s chest, the air suddenly punched out out of him at the sudden attention he was receiving. He felt exposed – and despite the fact that Tristan hadn’t even begun his drawing, he felt…well, he felt beautiful. “Sprawl out?” He makes a weak attempt at quirking up an eyebrow, the joke that would normally follow quickly fizzling out on the tip of his tongue. “Um–” he fidgets a bit, quickly running his fingers through the quiff that’s long sense fallen out of it’s hold as he figures out how to position himself. Propping himself up on his elbows, he hitches one of his legs further up, letting the other one rest out in front of him – soon realizing with another flush that he was all but spreading his legs for the other boy. “Like this?” Wide brown eyes search blue for reassurance, suddenly wanting nothing more than to do this properly for Tristan.

[trisdupont-blog]

“It was you who has suggested it, not me,” he beams back at his boyfriend, eyes never once leaving his figure. Tristan supposes Holden has a very good point -- even just lifting off his shirt has the French boy’s mouth gone dry and his eyes going a bit wide. He really can’t help it; he’s just very attracted to the boy currently stripping in front of him and the less clothes there are clinging to Holden’s enviable body, the less Tristan’s able to focus. “Ah, um, good idea, mon ange,” Tristan retorts, gaze drifting down to the belt being loosed from his hips. It wouldn’t matter if Tristan had seen every bit of Holden, moments like this still drew a blush onto his cheeks and had him biting down on his lower lip coyly. He lifts his sketching pencil, just holding it as he contemplates answers to Holden’s question. The first few that flicker into his mind are less than innocent; they’re absolutely filthy actually and Tristan’s a bit surprised. He settles on a vague hand gesture to the bed. “Sprawl out, my love. I need to see all the lines and curves of your body so I can accurately draw them.” Tristan wasn’t even kidding -- as much as he’d like to be all over his boyfriend, he also has a dedication to his art that’s telling him to focus.

❝ ━ we found love right where we are ❞

Holden’s hands fold over his stomach, chin dipping down as a flush spreads across his cheeks. He never typically found himself as being worthy of the beauty that was Tristan’s art, but each sketch that the other boy had done of him in the past had somehow proved his previous insecurities to be completely untrue. Even now, as the younger boy’s eyes wander down the length of his body, Holden can feel the heat prickle at the pit of his stomach – he feels desirable beneath the heated gaze of his boyfriend’s stare. He feels beautiful. “I knew you’d try to get me naked,” he giggles quietly in response, quirking up an eyebrow in a faux-suggestive manor. “But I suppose I shouldn’t distract you from your drawing, of course.” Despite his words, however, he’s already starting to peel off his top, quickly tossing it to the side shortly thereafter. “I suppose I can undress a bit for you – though maybe I should leave my pants on for now. Don’t wanna tempt you or anythin’.” A sly, though somewhat timid, grin peaks at the corner of his mouth, hands working to open his belt bucket so he can slide his trousers over his hips and off the bed. “Now– where do you want me?” Another coy grin appears on his lips as he speaks, despite the small feeling of vulnerability that came with being so exposed to the other boy in that moment – not that he hadn’t seen far more of Holden at this point, of course.

[trisdupont-blog]

Tristan loves that Holden can read the signs of his body and react accordingly. It’s always been this way so he supposes he shouldn’t be too surprised -- even in the most platonic of moments, Holden’s always given Tristan exactly what he’s needed. Now though, tucked under his body and listening to the low hum of his voice, Tristan shivers, Holden’s words like a poetry seeping into his bloodstream. He feels endlessly beautiful under the other’s touch and the kiss has a sharp gasp leaving Tristan’s lips. He wants to murmur nonsense into Holden’s skin and lets himself get lost in the sensation of their kissing, their mouths moving together perfectly. He used to wonder what this would be like, kissing his best friend, but now he can’t imagine ever having gone a day without it. “If I am beauty,” he whispers into Holden’s mouth, fingers brushing down the back of his neck, “you are my inspiration.”

take me to church | tristan & holden

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[trisdupont-blog]

we make a pretty killer duet, i’d say holdclarke

bit of piano time with my boy trisdupont 😍💖

[trisdupont-blog]

Tristan experiences a whole different kind of hunger as Holden’s arms are finally around him, holding his slight body against the sturdy frame of his boyfriend. It doesn’t help that the other’s light English lilt is being used in whispers that sounded so sweet and happy that it has his heart soaring out of his chest. There are teeth at his ear which make his whole body tremble and he’s practically vibrating with energy and excitement, the need to touch and be touched overwhelming him completely. Tristan’s glad Holden takes his wordless lead and is only about a pace behind him when he separates the embrace, moving to lay out on the bed. His eyes drift down to Holden’s hand reaching for his own and he lets their fingers tangle together. Tristan doesn’t miss out on the blush rising to Holden’s skin and he swallows thickly at the sight.

This was really going to happen. They were really about to do this. Everything seemed to move in slow motion and Tristan dips his head to hide his own flattered blush. Honestly, Holden makes him feel like the most beautiful boy in all of existence which is quite a feat considering his opinion of himself was rather low at times. “Je te aime,” Tristan whispers, his voice suddenly thick with emotion as though he was going to cry. He’s sure he’s said it a thousand and one times before but he wants Holden to know before they go through with this where his feelings stand. Tristan’s sure Holden’s the man he’s going to spend the rest of his life with -- he has no doubt and he hopes to convey as much in the kiss suddenly pressed to his lips, stealing his breath away. He lets Holden hover over him before lifting his hands to grasp his shirt tightly, pulling them down so he was trapped more completely by Holden’s body, laid out on the bed.

make you feel my love | holstan

Holden’s teeth latch onto his lower lip, the action concealing the full force of the grin that was threatening to take over the lower half of his face. The sight of Tristan always seemed to reduce him to this, though — a giddy, giggly idiot that was constantly overwhelmed with a feeling of fondness every time his boyfriend was in the vicinity. “Yeah?” He quirks up an eyebrow, placing the bags onto the nearest table and letting himself fall into the warmth of the other boy’s embrace. The older nuzzles lovingly at the sensitive spot beneath his ear as his arms wrap around the boy’s shoulders, his soft hair brushing up against the tip of Holden’s nose as he does so. “Well I suppose there’s no use in me denying the fact that I’m just as eager for you, then.” He whispers through a giggle, nipping playfully at the younger boy’s ear. His previous hunger had been pushed aside the moment their text conversations had steered elsewhere, and had been completely wiped from memory as soon as he spotted Tristan on the other side of the door.

Holden pouts a bit as the other boy moves away, but doesn’t hesitate a second in following him towards the end of the bed. His hands reach out to thread his fingers through Tristan’s, a flush running up his neck with the way the boy’s eyes track up and down the length of his body. “Not half as lovely as you, Tris.” Fondness creeps along the edges of his smile, softened eyes carefully spanning the expanse of the boy’s face. “You kind of take my breath away sometimes.” All of the time. He moves closer so that his legs are bracketing Tristan’s, head dipping down to pull the boy’s lips into a soft, slow kiss.

[trisdupont-blog]

@holdclarke:  *insert cheesy lyrics about how much i adore trisdupont’s dumb, adorable face here*

@trisdupont: *obligatory response about how many times i would like to kiss holdclarke��s face in return*

[trisdupont-blog]

Tristan’s cheeks flush a darker red than the pink they’d been sporting since their texts as soon as the door was pushed open. He is practically vibrating where he stood on the balls of his feet, flitting over towards his boyfriend the moment his figure was within his sight. Smells of the food Holden had gotten for them waft into Tristan’s senses and he lets out a pleased little sound before wrapping his arms around the boy’s middle. “Oui,” he mumbles absently. “I am not ashamed to admit to being eager for you,” he adds, nuzzling into the hug that Holden can’t return with his hands so full. Eventually, Tristan pulls back so that the other can take care of their food. Some part of Tristan almost wants to start eating now -- to build up some stamina or at least quell the need to rumble from his suddenly empty stomach.

He resists though. Eating would make him feel bloated and not at all desirable to his most perfect boyfriend. He’d probably do something embarrassing like catch the hiccups midway and force them to stop. Tristan wants his and Holden’s first time to be magical and though he’d forgone the rose petals, there was still an element of specialness lingering in the air. He moves to go perch daintily on the edge of the bed, crossing his ankles and gripping into the duvet behind him. Blue eyes track over Holden’s body shamelessly and his smile goes a bit shy. “You are so lovely, mon ange,” he whispers, almost more to himself than anything else. “C’mere?”

make you feel my love | holstan

Holden ends up having to readjust the food bags dangling from his fingers a good five times during his walk back to the dorm; his palms suddenly clammy, and shaking with excess nerves. He realizes that the anxiety is probably unwarranted—he had known Tristan for all of his life, for christ’s sake—but he couldn’t help the sudden tension in his bones, the fear of failure resting beneath the edge of nerves that had long sense settled at the pit of his stomach. The feeling of excitement, however, and the overall fondness he had for the other boy had managed to override any lingering sense of worry.

He stalled at the door for a moment, wiping his hands on the back of his jeans one last time before getting his key out. It takes at least two tries, embarrassingly enough, for him to get the door open, and he only hopes that Tristan, somehow, doesn’t notice how incompetent his boyfriend is with something as simple as a door. “Hey,” he greets the other with a small, somewhat shy, grin as soon as he finally enters the room, bags of food still dangling from his fingers as he shuts the door behind him. Holden’s smile suddenly turns playful as he lifts the bag a bit higher, eyebrow quirked up in a teasing manner. “So did you want me to put this in the fridge, orrr—?” A giggle bubbles up from his chest, his teeth latching on to his lower lip. “Sounded like you were pretty eager or somethin’.”

[trisdupont-blog]

make you feel my love | holstan

Tristan’s heart is doing nervous flips in his chest and his stomach is in knots. It wasn’t as though the thought of going all the way with Holden were a bad one -- if anything it was quite the opposite. His nerves are all of the excited sort and he can barely keep himself sat in one place. He isn’t sure where he was supposed to be -- should he be laid out on the bed waiting? Sitting at his desk, attempting to appear casual? Stood at the door, awaiting the arrival of his boyfriend so he could let him into their room? Some part of Tristan wants to scatter rose petals on the bedspread and on the path leading up to it -- Holden deserves the most romantic first time and it is Valentine’s Day after all -- but he giggles at the thought, dismissing it almost immediately. They don’t have time for that frivolity. 

As if in reminder of the other part of Holden’s texts, Tristan stomach growls lowly. He stifles a fit of giggles at the sound. Of all things, eating was not high on his priority list. Whatever food his love was bringing back to their suite would go into their refrigerator, to be warmed up after he gets his fill of a different sort. Tristan makes a final decision and heads to the mirror to look at his reflection. He pushes his fingers through his feathered hair a few times, getting it to sit just right. His eyes are dancing with excitement and there’s a healthy pink flush to his cheeks that he can’t will down. Today’s the day. He’s going to give up that final part of himself to the love of his life and, honestly, he couldn’t be happier. Now, if only Holden would just get here, already.

[trisdupont-blog]

“The best thing,” Tristan assures his boyfriend with a fervent nod, eyes dark with lust as he gazes up at the other boy. He secretly hopes every upset conversation ends like this, Holden hovering over him like the angel Tristan calls him. He latches his arms around Holden’s neck as he’s lifted forward, their chests flush together. “I cannot help but believe it when you say it, my love,” he whispers back into the kiss, eyes fluttered shut. “You make me beautiful.” He drowns out his own words with kisses, wriggling on the bed to try and encourage Holden to help rid him of his shirt that’s clinging to his already slightly sweaty body. Being this close to the other always has him heated but he doesn’t want to remove his arms from being wrapped around his boyfriend in order to do anything about the unwanted garment stuck to his skin.

take me to church | tristan & holden

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[trisdupont-blog]

Tristan beams at the kisses smudged to his damp cheeks, giggling happily as Holden's breath falls against his lips with the returned confession of love. He could listen to the boy say those words all day -- maybe sometime soon they'd be able to do just that. He watches as Holden moves towards the bed, sprawling out in a way that allowed blue eyes to rake over his figure appreciatively. The way Holden's expression changes has Tristan's peals of laughter getting louder, shaking his head enthusiastically. "You are ridiculous, mon amor," he scolds but moves to grab a few of his art pencils from the kit he'd brought with him from Arlington. He takes a seat cross legged on the floor, a fair distance away. "I cannot draw you like one of my French girls if you are still so clothed," he drawls, tapping the soft eraser against the plump of his lower lip. "And I make no promises anything will be drawn if you strip down -- it is quite the predicament." His smile is wry and his eyes glittering with excitement, still fondly stroking over the spine of his newest treasure.

❝ ━ we found love right where we are ❞

Holden doesn’t miss the way his boyfriend’s eyes light up at the reveal of the other present, his bright blue orbs widening in a mixture of shock and delight — it was precisely the look he was going for when he first spotted the sketchbook online. He had long sense been aware of the happiness and pleasure sketching brought to Tristan—more often than not, Holden found himself watching him throughout the process, all whilst grinning at the concentration and passion that emitted from the boy he loved—and Holden wanted nothing more than to watch those eyes light up all the more. And if he so happened to be the cause of the smile that was currently spreading across Tristan’s lips, then that made it even more worth the 100 or so bucks he spent along the way.  Holden’s thumbs wipe away the wetness quickly forming on Tristan’s cheeks, pressing kisses in their place shortly thereafter. “I love you too, Tris,” he assures him, emphasizing his point by playfully nudging his nose against the other boy’s own. And while he was very much content with keeping his arms wrapped around his boyfriend, Holden is soon pulling away and moving towards his bed; lying himself along the length of the mattress and propping himself up on his elbows. “Now—” he starts, crossing his ankles and wiggling his eyebrows in a faux suggestive manor. “Draw me like one of your French girls,” he drawls out, grin widening as his teeth latch on to his lower lip, giggles spilling out soon after.

[trisdupont-blog]

Tristan decides for the millionth time that he truly is the luckiest boy on earth because how else could he have an actual angel crafted by god straddling his lap and grinding into him like he'd rather be doing nothing more. The French boy can't help the whines leaving his lips as his gaze is allowed to sweep over the exposed skin. It's all much too pretty and he lifts his hands to touch. "Mon ange," he whispers reverently, hands pressed flat to his chest. "You are too much, at times." He hopes Holden knows what he means by that and lifts his own hips to press up against him, biting his lower lip to try and keep quiet.

take me to church | tristan & holden

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[trisdupont-blog]

text ✉ angel

Holden: haha, noooo. my gift isn't sex. i got a bear and chocolates and other things !! i don't think sex counts as a gift, does it?

Holden: thank youuuuuu xx :* :*

Tristan: it seems like a gift to me. i am getting something i would not ordinarily have :D

Tristan: i love you :*

[trisdupont-blog]

text ✉ angel

Holden: well i didn't know the conversation was gonna lead to thisssss. besides, we'll need to eat eventually!

Holden: -you make a great point. i changed my mind. wait for meeeeee, pls.

Tristan: i thought it was my gift! but i suppose food would come in handy :)

Tristan: alright my sweet, i will wait for you

[trisdupont-blog]

text ✉ angel

Holden: patience, my love. i'm picking up some dinner for us, so i'll be a few more minutes :)

Holden: feel free to start without me, though xx :) :)

Tristan: how are you able to think of food at a time like this!

Tristan: are you sure you would not like to be here for the start? :) xxxxx

[trisdupont-blog]

"You will never never be able to top that," Tristan teases, sure that Holden could get him a mismatched pair of socks and he'd fall even more in love than he was already. His voice is a bit creaky with emotion and he flushes in embarrassment though, really, it doesn't matter. He's in his lover's arms and enveloped in happiness. "I want to always be in your life," he asserts, returning each kiss pressed to his lips. He whines a little as Holden deposits him back onto the couch in order to retrieve the other gift from his bed. "You are spoiling me -- I am going to have such high expectations all the time," he sighs dramatically, knowing that Holden knew him well enough to pick up on the joke. If there was one thing Tristan was not, it was the type of guy to expect things.

Tristan leans into Holden's side, relishing in the warm familiar contact. He tore through the paper to unveil his rather weighty second gift (one that was completely unnecessary given the beautiful song that had just been performed for him). A gasp falls from his lips at the sight of the book's pretty cover, pages upon pages filling its leather-bound spine. "Oh, mon ange," he whispers, fingertips tracing over the letters from a quote from his book: the one him and Holden read so often together they surely both had it memorized in two languages by now. "c'est beau... merci." The tears were back and he set the book down to curl into his boyfriend, sniffling back his overwhelming happiness. "I love you with all that I can. You know this?"

❝ ━ we found love right where we are ❞

The lingering pause between words has Holden panicking for a brief moment: ‘Was it too much? —Not enough? Should he have started off with the other present?’ He wasn’t left with these thoughts for too long, however, as Tristan is soon surging forward into his arms and pressing their lips together. The boy doesn’t hesitate in bringing a hand to the back of the other’s neck and returning the kiss, giggling out of pure relief, eyes still filled with unshed tears. “You scared me for a second,” he mumbles through a grin, lips pressed into the crook of Tristan’s shoulder as the younger boy pulls him into a hug. “So there’s no way I’ll ever be able to top that, then?” A smile teases at the edge of his lips, laughter bubbling up in his chest once again. “But really— you thank me enough by just being in my life, Tris,” he assures him, nudging their noses together affectionately before pressing a quick kiss to the boy’s lips once more. “I couldn’t ask for anything more." And then with another lingering kiss, and a quick pat of the boy’s bum, Holden’s moving the other back beside him onto the couch. “I have one more gift, actually — though I’m sure it won’t be nearly as exciting as the first one,” he chuckles, moving towards his bed and sliding out the box that he had hidden there.

“S’not much at all, really,” he shrugs, handing the box to Tristan as soon as Holden takes his seat next to the other once more. “But I imagine you’ll end up running out of room in your old one soon enough,” he smiles a bit sheepishly, nudging the other with his foot to continue on with opening up his other present. Tristan’s art had always been something that the older boy admired about him — and he wanted nothing more than to continually encourage the boy to do what he loved, even with the constant pressure of one day fulfilling his father’s current duties that Holden knew his boyfriend was saddled with—the very same pressure he, himself, had been saddled with growing up. 

[trisdupont-blog]

text ✉ angel

Holden: welllllll. since you asked so nicellyyyy :) :)

Tristan: hurry s'il vous plait

[trisdupont-blog]

text ✉ angel

Holden: did it, now? hmmmmmmm. well i suppose i should come see you then :)

Tristan: yes. pleasE???