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LMS VI: Lunch Appointment with Death



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Thu Dec 01, 2022 6:05 pm
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Brigadier says...



@BluesClues the next chapter part will be Haller starting to say why their plan is superior and Waite going "yeah I know. that's why I'm agreeing to do it. but only if I get to choose what your wedding suit is."

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LMS VI: Lunch Appointment with Death

  





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Thu Dec 01, 2022 11:49 pm
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BluesClues says...



...are they also going to have a wedding-suit-shopping montage?
  





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Fri Dec 02, 2022 11:27 pm
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Brigadier says...



Week 13 - Past Life Interlude 1.3 (4th chapter in sequence) -1,026 words

“I have an answer, my dear,” Waite started, giving a signature pause. “But I fear that you may not be satisfied with the answer that I have to give.”
Roque sat back, waiting for their tea to brew as they revisited the scenarios that the couple had discussed the night before. In their current positions, they could not make their relationship a public matter. Doing so would upset the careful balance of peace between the planet and the Federation.
Something had to change.
More specifically, someone had to change.
At one extreme, Roque could resign their position as caretaker with the Archian regiment so that Waite could continue with the Federation. On the other end of this spectrum, Roque could remain in their duty as Lord Haller if Waite resigned their commission. (To become a house husband as one might say.)
Somewhere in the middle though laid another solution - Waite could resign from the Federation army to become an Archian officer. Once an Archian officer, he would be ineligible to be Roque’s secretary as he would no longer be a liaison. In this compromise decision, the man would even likely be promoted to second of command of the regiment.
To Roque, it was the best solution. Mainly in that it allowed both of them to continue to their careers. Just perhaps in different trajectories than what those careers had been before the men became acquainted with each other.
“Does that mean that you want to stay a Federation officer? Or is it that you want to transition to becoming an Archian officer?”
They shot a look towards their partner as they tested the temperature of the tea again. Roque felt a little bit of a sting in their palm when it touched to the clay pot. The sort of sting that was neither pleasant nor unpleasant. Rather, it was the the degree of burn that allowed them to know that they must let the tea continue to cool. That it needed a bit more of the brewing process before they could enjoy their conventional warmth.
“I did not say that I would be disappointing you with my decision, My Lord. Only giving you mild dissatisfaction by expressing that I will no longer be your secretary,” returned Waite, testing the temperature of his own pot. Roque felt a bit of the unconventional warmth returning though as Waite pressed a sock clothed foot to the inside of their thigh. It was amazing how such a little amount of pressure could make a being feel such wonderful things.
Their voice was a bit higher than they would have liked as they asked, “What would you be then?”
“Well, before I was so rudely interrupted by the presence of Chancellor Hart, I had been asking Nork about what my rank would be if I moved to the Archian army.”
“Would it be equivalent? Or would it be in a better position, as I predicted last night.”
The tightness, the absolute nervousness, was still in their voice as they posed the thought to Waite. It was that feeling that everything could go wrong in the next five moments and they would never be able to recover. Clearly, Waite saw some of this nervousness in Roque because he placed his hand back gently over his lover’s hand. Taking advantage of their secluded location in the cafe, he picked up Roque’s hand, turning it over, and kissing their palm lightly.
Waite kept his lips close to Roque’s palm, calmly answering, “No, it was as you predicted. I would be promoted to major and be welcomed as the second in command for the regiment.”
Roque let their lover maintain his grip on their palm. They wanted to pull back, wanted to retreat to the darkened seclusion of the booth, but they wanted to enjoy the comfort too. Just like the new tea that Waite had chosen for them, they were continuing to be warmed by just how wonderful their partner could be.
“Do you want to be a major?”
They watched for a reaction in their lover’s eyes. Waite gave them only a series of signature smiles and teasing gestures.
“It’s certainly a very attractive position, but then a very attractive man has been encouraging me to take it on.”
The teasing was surely set to continue as long as Roque was showing their inner self. They decided to turn the table slightly by reversing the grip that Waite had on their palm. Now with Waite’s hand flipped up in theirs, Roque returned the gesture of kissing along the crease lines. Their partner was now showing the same tension that Roque had felt earlier in the process.
Knowing they had his full attention, they teasingly asked, “You were saying about there being some very attractive man in your life?”
Their head bent back down after their question. They continued their kisses up his wrist until Waite let a slow moan fill the space between them.
“I think I need to keep my mouth filled with some more of this tea so that I won’t be tempted to do anything else.”
Roque realized that they too should be keeping their mouth occupied.
Their question of, “Shall we return to work?” was answered only with a nod and assistance putting on their coat.
They set out together into the late afternoon, still warmed by the tea and being able to hold their hands together until reaching the outer regimental gate. Once there, they unwound their fingers, walking side by side to the back door of Lord Haller’s office.
Coats were taken off carefully and clothing continued to be rearranged from the situation in the alleyway. While straightening up Roque’s regiment appropriate tie, Waite stole away one more kiss before returning to his own desk in the outer office. With the frustration of a few more hours of busy work, he would likely be ready to continue last night’s activities.
Roque set their pen about their paper, distracting themself with the importance of the numbers on the page, attempting (and failing) to think about anything beyond the kinds of situations Waite would be getting them into tonight.

the brigadier rides again!
LMS VI: Lunch Appointment with Death

  





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Sun Dec 04, 2022 2:38 am
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Brigadier says...



BluesClues wrote:...are they also going to have a wedding-suit-shopping montage?

The wedding suit montage could happen if I have no clue of what else to write in lore at some point further into LMS.

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LMS VI: Lunch Appointment with Death

  





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Sun Dec 04, 2022 2:46 am
BluesClues says...



I like that answer~

Also:

“I think I need to keep my mouth filled with some more of this tea so that I won’t be tempted to do anything else.”


Hmmm, I GUESS you might not want to do what you're tempted to do in the middle of a tea house or wherever, but.
  





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Sun Dec 04, 2022 8:56 pm
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Brigadier says...



It was meant to be talking about kissing, Blue. Just kissing!

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LMS VI: Lunch Appointment with Death

  





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Sun Dec 04, 2022 11:54 pm
BluesClues says...



Right of COURSE, of course, how could I possibly have thought anything else--
  





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Wed Dec 07, 2022 6:21 pm
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Brigadier says...



@BluesClues those sort of scenes are in the pdfs that come to email rather than posts on yws.

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LMS VI: Lunch Appointment with Death

  





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Fri Dec 09, 2022 11:43 pm
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Brigadier says...



Week 14 - 4.1 - 1,010 words

The memories of Captain Lagrain Waite had returned once more to Haller in their dreams. Though, returning might be too gentle of a way to explain it. If it had been a simple return or purely imagination, then Haller wouldn’t be waking every morning with an immense pain in their chest.
Ever since Waite’s departure from the Order and their relocation to Earth, Hal had begun to experience the unusual dreams. Their coworkers greeted the idea of a nightmarish dream as nothing more than the effect of stress. Haller, however, could feel that something else was happening to them.
It was the feeling of their head being put back together after thousands of centuries of having no recollections of who they used to be. The way that Waite had always looked at them - that way that was more questioning than anything else - should have been the first sign that they had known each other in a past life.
“How did he remembering knowing me but I forgot every instance of him?” Hal asked themself silently, laying entirely still in their bed to examine the questions of the universe.
It had been hours since Haller had first woken up to watch the man in bed beside them. Each breath that rose from Monty’s chest was another temptation for the reaper to fight off. Each time they had wanted to reach over their lover, to give them a soft kiss on their wrinkled brow…each attempt had been ruined for a fear of waking Monty.
Just as they had finally found the courage to leave one, extremely gentle sign of love on the man’s face, his eyes shot open. The suddenness of the action caused Hal to jump back from their lover. Unfortunately, the only place for them to jump off of was the bed. The reaper fell to the carpeted ground, too focused on Monty’s laughter to even think about the shooting pain in their hip.
Monty crawled over to Hal’s side of the bed and gave a long sigh as he looked down at the reaper. His legs swung over the bed, resting on the rails as he offered a hand up to the reaper. As he pulled Hal up from the ground, Monty once more had to stifle his laughter to ask, “How long have you been awake, love?”
“Just a bit of the candle. I didn’t want to interrupt your beauty sleep.”
Haller found their way back into bed beside their dear one. He quickly readjusted to laying across Hal’s chest, running those lovely fingers across the chest scars that they were rather ashamed of - at least in most contexts.
The technology that hid Haller’s blue-gray skin, the tint that perfectly matched with their eyes and hair, had its limitations. It could reflect back a different color of skin to avoid giving townspeople a fright, but it could not hide the imperfections of past battles. Nor would it change the appearance of the anatomy of an alien being such as themself. A revelation that had worried them immensely before Monty’s declaration of love to the structure of the tissue.
As they lay in bed now, Monty’s lips so close to those same tender areas, Hal found themself wondering how the man would react when they eventually dropped their last cloak. It was one thing to love how a man was composed below the belt, but it may be another matter entirely to see an unknown color of skin.
“That’s because you so benefit from me being at my most refreshed and handsome,” Monty suddenly said amid his stroking of the patterns on Hal’s skin. This pressure, this welcome feeling, was so far from eroticism that it had circled back around to become a sort of pleasure.
Haller looked down into his eyes and the worry of their past thought left the room. Everything they had come to know about Monty in these months should have told them that the man wouldn’t be judgmental of a detail like skin color.
Perhaps noticing the lack of response, their partner continued, “Thank you for waiting until I was ready, Hal.”
“Hmm?”
They shifted a bit in the bed, moving to sit up so they could more objectively look at the man’s form. Hal, still saying nothing, attempted to make a gesture to allow Monty to continue. The gesture however failed as their stiff fingers did something rather rude and the reaper quickly balled up their fists in a fit of embarrassment.
“I know it was hard for you. Just waiting all of that time and having to endure lunch with me everyday. Likely harder than you might want to admit to me,” Monty continued, either unbothered by the gesture or distracted just enough to not notice Hal’s mistake.
To this point, noting the teasing in their lover’s voice, Hal had found the appropriate moment to re-enter into the conversation.
“Isn’t a bit of hardness favored by men in our situation?”
Monty’s laughter filled the room in the moments after they finished asking their question. His fingers moved further up to take Hal’s chin into his grip and his lips jumped onto those of the reaper’s own set. They could tell that Monty had more to say, but knew the man would likely be distracted for a few moments more.
Haller really did know Monty better than anyone else and they would always use that to their advantage. They leaned into the embrace, adding more intensity until Monty had to stop to catch his lost breath.
Panting and avoiding being caught by Hal again, he slowly said, “You know what I mean, dove. Just as you know that other men would not have wanted to wait. And depending on just how much they didn’t want to wait, what they might have done to-”
“Do not concern yourself with what other men want, Montgomery. Focus only on what I want and what you want.”
“What do you want, Hirschel?”
“I want you and to have you for as long as you’ll have me.”

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LMS VI: Lunch Appointment with Death

  





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Fri Dec 09, 2022 11:47 pm
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BluesClues says...



Oh wow I see we are coming in hot with angst this week, but it's okay because everything was so soft (well, hem hem, y'know, not everything) and nice by the end <3
  





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Sat Dec 10, 2022 2:29 am
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Brigadier says...



@BluesClues this chapter should be a lot of softness and one clothing montage! Then perhaps I’ll also post a chapter written during nano about how Monty met Haller.

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LMS VI: Lunch Appointment with Death

  





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Sun Dec 18, 2022 1:25 pm
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Brigadier says...



Week 15 - 4.2 - 1,053 words

Monty interlaced his fingers behind Hal’s neck, falling once again to their chest in a fit of satisfaction. He placed a slow set of kisses along the reaper's neck, turning into their shoulder and murmuring, “Oh, Hal, I can only thank the gods so much for how well you treat me.”
Haller gripped their arms tightly around their partner, hating to think of what must have happened for someone so lovely to be made so afraid. They were no stranger to the violence of men against men, but they wished it would not happen so often in places where people were supposed to share their love.
“Monty, may I ask an extremely personal question of you? Of your past relationships and of what other men might have wanted?”
They could feel their partner’s body tensing against their own. Perhaps it was too much to ask that in the moments after their declarations of love. Haller was well aware that their timing left much to be desired, but they were so afraid of hurting Monty further. They let the silence build between them and noticed the abundance of balance needed to continue the conversation.
Monty shifted up onto his elbows, rolling to the side and giving out a long exhale. He continued to catch a relaxing breath for a few moments before saying, “Do you mean, my love, if another man has tried to take what he wanted from me without my permission?”
The man lifted his fingers to wrap Hal’s palm in his own hand. A gesture that had become common for them during the time when they were attempting to become friends before allowing true intimacy to exist. They found themself relaxing further and further with each moment of touch, not needing to retreat in the way they usually preferred. Hal pulled their hand away from Monty’s to brush a few fingers through the man’s fallen curls.
“Have I made the situation socially unacceptable with my attempt at politeness?”
“It is the most polite that anyone has ever said the word ‘rape’, but I know that it was your attempt at avoiding my embarrassment,” Monty said, sighing again as he was collecting his own thoughts. Though it was all happening inside spongy tissue, Hal could clearly hear the gears that must be turning in his brain.
“It’s more that I never want to hurt you. And before you begin your jokes and laughs and gestures, I’m sure you know the kind of hurt that I mean. The kind I would never be able to forgive myself for doing.”
Even with this point of clarification, they still witnessed the other man laughing. Laughing with them rather than at them. But still laughing all the same.
“I know that you won’t ever hurt me in that emotional way. It’s easy to see how much you care for me and my wellbeing. It’s just…”
“Just what, Monty?”
“It’s just that after your grip on me at different times yesterday, the bruising around my ribs is filled with aches and pains every time I attempt to smile.”
The reaper couldn’t help their blushing as they came to understand what Monty was telling them. Haller knew that they had a tendency to be rough. They hadn’t thought about how much of an impact they might have made until coming to examine their lover in the growing daylight.
“Are the marks confined to your chest or,” they paused to stretch out long fingers and pull nightgown fabric away from Monty’s neck.
“Or what?”
This time Monty had taken the chance to interrupt with a ‘what’ question. Giving Haller the perfect opportunity to reach down again with their lips to the beautiful pale neck. They kissed softly down the man’s neck, looking for the perfect spot to leave an additional mark. Pulling the fabric across once more to make sure such a placement wouldn’t be noticeable to the public when they finally rose from bed, the reaper finally let their teeth make contact with Monty’s skin.
With a gasp, Monty said, “My, my, you really are taking this commitment thing seriously, aren’t you? Don’t I even get a ring first?”
“I think I have some lovely rings downstairs though I don’t know what would suit your fancy.”
“You are what I fancy, Hal, and that’s all that you really need to know of me.”
Of course Haller was well aware now that Monty fancied them, but they were also left thirsting for more information. The pair had skirted around discussing many of their preferences, relative histories, and mutual fears known on the first night they met. Never in much detail. Just enough information so that they might be able to get along in conversation without inadvertently hurting the other.
At the beginning, Monty offered no explanation to their particular history on that matter and the reaper did not feel motivated to inquire. If they had asked specific details of their friend, then they would have had to find a way to explain their own complexities.
“Well, I may need to know some specific details about you to choose a ring from the cabinet. Such as what size of ring would fit on your lovely little fingers.”
“I know it’s not the point of your statement, but have you just claimed that my fingers are little?”
The reaper smiled along with Monty’s growing smile, lifting their hands together to show the difference in size. This display of comparison showed that they could wrap their hand entirely around Monty’s. Neither of them had ever talked about the specific alien factors of Haller’s appearance. While their stature was one obvious difference, Haller knew soon that they would have to reveal other truths about their physical form.
“You must admit, my dove, that we are very different sized men. I do not even know if I can offer you a spare set of clothes because of the difference in stature.”
Monty, still letting his hand stay in Haller’s grip, began his counter argument.
“I will manage to find something appropriate in your closet without too much pinning as long as you admit that we’re not too different in size in specific departments.”
“I think I would like to have a cup of tea before we get too far into discussing those sizes again.”

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LMS VI: Lunch Appointment with Death

  





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Sun Dec 25, 2022 7:59 am
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Brigadier says...



Week 16 - 4.3 - 1196 words

Haller pulled themself from the bed, looking through a pile of clothing on the floor for some sign of their morning house coat. Their partner had found their way into their bed clothes easily enough. Not that Haller had been particularly concerned with covering up their glory on the night before.
Monty, acting as an observer to said glory being on display again, sat up in their bed to say, “If you’re looking on the floor for my innocence, I’m afraid that it was taken long before you took me last night.”
“I don’t think I’ll be finding my innocence in this party of cotton either. Would you believe me if I said that I honestly can’t remember my first time?”
Their partner shifted on the bed and crawled towards the foot of the frame. Monty looked up to Haller with his signature jokingly brooding face. He reached fingers out, grabbing for any part of his lover’s form that he could get his hand on. Haller sank to a crouch at the foot of the bed and let Monty’s soft fingers trace their cheekbones.
“Well, would you believe me, Monty?”
They looked into the deep eyes of their lovely dove. The reaper could easily find themselves swimming in the matching pools that shone before them. Each movement was an indication of something happening in the mind of the other. Monty rolled onto his back rather suddenly, never loosing eye contact with Haller, and opened and closed his mouth several times before speaking.
“Any other man? I likely wouldn’t. But you’re far from being like any other man.”
“Oh am I?” Haller asked with a knowing smile. They resisted the urge to take advantage of the position that Monty had put himself into. As Hal kept the presence of their glory away from the other man, they thought they spotted an amount of disappointment in those knowing movements.
“I would say that being from another world qualifies you to be different from most men.”
“With a comment like that, how do you ever expect me to take you back to Mars to meet my mother?”
The snap of Monty’s jaws was almost audible beyond the canine frequency. Haller returned to looking in vain for awhile longer before settling on pulling a blanket from the back of a claw foot settee. Hal wrapped it around their waist, tying the makeshift garment in a loose knot.
They didn’t look back to see if Monty’s expression or position had changed at all. The reaper simply strutted into their own living room, brought some new life to the coals in the fireplace, and began puttering around with the process for tea.
Their joking comment about taking a partner home to the homeworld began to impact them more and more as they worked on the tea. The fine, antique, and expensive clay pot was almost rattling in their long fingers as they poured hot water over their favorite blend. It was a rather odd sort of tea, more herbal than anything else, but they had been drawn to it nonetheless. Something in the flavors had reminded the reaper of a hint of a memory.
The memories that were barely visible scars when they created their Earthen identity a few decades ago. Those same memories that seemed to be coming back with more and more force as they approached a milestone of existing in their life with the reapers. One hundred thousand years was a lot of time to make new memories, but Haller really wished to have their own back.
“Hal? Do you need some assistance with pouring that cup of tea?” Monty called, much too loudly, from the bedroom. It wasn’t that Haller had that many neighbors to speak of - just that the other man was only one room away. He followed the question up a few minutes later, just as Hal was arranging a few biscuits on a tray, asking again, “Or have you gotten lost somewhere along the way?”
“I’ve not gotten lost, my love. I’m simply trying to find something suitable for consumption to refill my stamina.”
Haller walked back to their bedroom, the makeshift blanket skirt now dragging on the floor. They could feel it catching against a floorboard and took on evasive maneuvers to avoid dropping the tea set. The feeling of Monty’s eyes was only outweighed by the man’s series of calling whistles.
“I don’t see any problems with your stamina, Haller. Maybe you’re really more concerned with mine?”
Monty was still laying on his back, head at the foot of the bed, and eyes still piercing into Haller’s soul. The reaper stepped across the room to set the tea tray down on one of the mismatched marble side tables. They secured the lid to keep the tea warm and stepped up onto the bed to cover their partner. Haller leaned down, taking another kiss from Monty and falling onto his chest with a laugh.
“Now you’re the one in a fit of hysteria, Mr. Williamson. Would you like to tell me what has happened to turn your mind in such an upward direction?”
“Who said I was in a bad mood?”
The reaper allowed their partner to roll the pair over so that Monty was now looming above them. He took a few of his own kisses before giving Haller an answer to their question.
“I didn’t say that you were in a bad mood, but with the tumble you took this morning, one might think that you woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”
“That wasn’t entirely my fault, Monty.”
“No?”
Haller wasn’t expecting the follow up question. Their reason for being clumsy around their bed was a rather lonely answer - celibacy. Since they had been on Earth, they hadn’t spent much time in the company of others. Humans had just not appealed to them very much before they had the chance of laying eyes upon Montgomery.
“I didn’t realize that I was so good in bed that I destroyed all of your processes of thought, lovely. Maybe I should be giving you the different sort of oral exam that I learned about while in school…”
As their partner trailed off with their statement and moved down to other parts of their body, Hal gave little thought to the rapidly cooling tea. They even gave up their usual constant attempts at understanding the world around them. It was an exhausting process. They were always thankful for Monty’s ability to turn off their brain. Haller wasn’t much for understanding humans, but they loved the process of getting to know Monty. They pulled on the collar of their own sleep clothes to bring Monty’s lips down to meet their own. Hal’s comment about not being able to find anything to fit their partner continued to ring true as they studied how the linen fell over one of their favorite pieces of art. After all, it was their business to find beautiful things.
“I’m not used to sleeping next to someone. You’re lucky that this bed was meant for a married couple or else you would have been the one out on the floor.”

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LMS VI: Lunch Appointment with Death

  





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Sun Jan 01, 2023 2:04 pm
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Brigadier says...



Week 17 - 4.4 - 1072 words


The smile returned to Monty’s face once more. He picked up the feather stuffed pillow that lay beside Hal’s head and gently struck them across their face. The reaper felt the edges lightly sting across their face, as feather stuffed pillows were not the usual choice for bedtime warriors.
Hal had rarely been on the end of such attacks. Their life on Earth was not a journey of gleeful places, but they seemed to remember something similar of the past. Likely not their child, as they were sure their preferences had started since before their first death…
But there was something. Some memory of someone’s child coming after them with a sword made of a light, green wood. Followed by Hal holding a stuffed cushion up as a shield and then playful laughter as the miniature warrior tackled them. The immense happiness of those few seconds that they could remember had not been there before this last evening’s dream. Whoever their nemesis had been in their past life, they had clearly made Haller better in the way that Monty presently made them human ish. If not completely human like.
Even within their thoughts, the reaper could still see their lover move about the room. They found it okay to have their own personal silence as the man attempted to find something suitable in their collection of garments. They let the laughter of their memories enter into the present moment as Monty put on a shirt with enough material to drown him.
It was one of Monty’s favorite shirts for Hal to wear. On Haller, it was just the right amount of cotton to stretch across their toned chest and pass over their equally matched arms. The cuffs of each sleeve were adorned with an intricate pattern of flowers that certain types of gentlemen might wear. It was in fact the shirt that Haller had worn to the party on the first night that they met. The one that hung under a rather run of the mill cavalry officer jacket and had secured Monty’s opinion of their shared preferences.
On that very night, Monty had asked of him, “What other sort of man would wear something so wonderful with something a reminder of his pain? And do you know of men who are not like us, with wives or not, that would allow themselves to walk about with a perfect collar but disheveled hair?”
Now they sat in their bed with the same signs of disheveled hair. In the first context, Monty had made the assumption that Hal had been rolling around in the hay with someone outside of the party. Amid their embarrassment of the question, the reaper had been unable to explain that their hair was misplaced due to a dueling altercation in the foyer. They hadn’t been able to say that they would have preferred to have Monty mess their hair up.
And now they sat in bed, long fingers on one hand reaching for a cigarette while the other set ran through their sweat slick hair. Each step of Monty’s held so much subtle grace. Like a god of love and charm that was slowly coming out of his artificially built shell.
“Monty, are you finding anything more suitable than that dress?” Hal asked, softly and sweetly, as they exhaled a puff of smoke.
Coming back across the room in the same dancer’s stride, Monty reserved himself to just sitting on the edge of the bed. He took the rolled tobacco from Hal’s lips, taking in his own cloud of smoke, and exhaling it towards Hal’s cobweb covered rafters. The comment of housekeeping was tucked away into his mind as he focused on the problem at hand.
“Do you have anything smaller than these bits, Hal? I’m not accusing you of being a giant, but I’ve never had the occasion of seeing trousers that look monstrous on my waist.”
Showing their own amount of restraint, the reaper didn’t pull their lover in the bed. They did gently wrap their hands around his waist though to illustrate a certain point. Haller was surprised that their fingers could almost meet if they stretched the digits from their sockets.
“I may have something in one of the trunks downstairs in the shop,” they said, tightening their grip on Monty’s waist. “You might have missed them, but I just recently got in a lovely collection of French corsets.”
“Until the moment you wrapped your hands around my waist, the thought of a corset had never passed across my mind.”
Monty stood up suddenly from his perch on the bed. He thrust Hal’s own day robe back into their hands and left for the safety of the sunlight streaming through a bedroom window. Hal, seeing and ignoring the signs, chose to continue the conversation.
“How do you feel about it now?”
“About what?”
A question as an answer to a question was not the answer that Haller had been seeking. Both men surely knew the topic that was of concern for the reaper. They stood from their own position on the bed, draping the abandoned day robe over their shoulders, and moving to stand behind Monty.
“Are you going to make me state it more bluntly?”
“Yes, I want to make sure we are both speaking of the same sort of thoughts.”
“My question was referring to your willingness to wear certain women’s undergarments for me. And potentially other items of women’s fashion that I think would fit perfectly with your form.”
The reaper didn’t wait for answer from Monty. They didn’t want to hear another question of the nuances. Their lover accepted the linked fingers and the navigational guidance down to the shop.
“If you trust me, Monty, then you’ll close your eyes and let me dress you in something proper.”
Still in the dress length shirt, Monty was set atop a stuffed stool covered in a tanned hide. He felt the cold sting of the rough covering as he quickly realized that his nether coverings had been left in the same jumbled pile as his jacket.
“I trust you, completely, Hal. I only ask that you hurry with your collection as I’m starting to feel a chill through all of my bones.”
The reaper turned to look at their lover, laughing when they noticed the hybrid dress-shirt blowing a bit from the draft, and quickly returning to their quest for suitable fashion.

the brigadier rides again!
LMS VI: Lunch Appointment with Death

  





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Mon Jan 09, 2023 2:10 am
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Brigadier says...



Week 18 - 5.1 - Monty’s Perspective - 1071 words

Waking up next to Hirschel, well really Hal, Monty had quickly come to realize what had been drawing him to the man for all of this time. In the past few years of his life, since his less than noble exit from the British Army, Monty had begun to feel less and less human. He couldn’t understand how his peers could stand by to witness injustices. They had always explained to him that it was just part of life and accepting the world was just part of being human.
Being un-human was not the most welcome of avenues, but it felt better to be making his own way in the world. Even if it had been incredibly lonely up until the point that certain party introductions had been made. Hal stood before him so elegantly that Monty would have welcomed himself over a table right at that moment. It would have been incredibly impolite though so they settled for their first luncheon instead.
There were so many human things that Monty should have been doing in the aftermath of his uncle’s death. He needed to find the time to make the arrangements, face the police once more, figure out where he stood with ownership of the building, dare to rub the spots out of the floor where the blood seeped through…
Each of those terrible thoughts pushed him further into Hal’s embrace. They both laid together in the bed for a long time, both pretending to be asleep so that the other could sleep softly. Their charade had ended when Hal was tumbled out of the bed in a less than graceful way. The laughter that filled the room took away most of the thoughts of what Monty needed to do with his day.
With Hal’s prompting, Monty reluctantly began an attempt to get dressed in something that wasn’t covered in bodily fluids.
Once they made it down the stairs and into the mock dressing room, all of the thoughts of human requirements were slipping away. He managed to ignore the coldness of the air, the roughness of the chair he was sat upon, and the personal stiffness that was coursing through his body. It was easy to relax under the touches of his lover as he was forbidden to look at the process of being dressed.
They barely exchanged polite conversation. Monty didn’t want to distract Hal from their work. Especially if it meant that he might find a pin in a misplaced spot by being a hazard to the man dressing him. The only time they really talked was when Hal needed Monty to move in some sort of way. Even though, Monty guessed, that the man could have easily manipulated his position with just a little bit of muscular effort.
“I think we’re almost done, Monty, but I will need your best posture for this last step.”
“Which step is that going to be?”
Hal ran their long fingers down over Monty’s trembling shoulders. He could feel his lover’s breath coming down over his ear as the other man was looking for their perfect spot of impact. The man’s tongue touched first, just lightly before Hal’s teeth made an impact onto Monty’s skin.
“I’m going to tighten up the laces on your corset just enough so that you’ll be able to feel my presence all day.”
With that, Hal lifted their lips from Monty’s neck and returned their fingers to his tender waist. Each touch from his lover would drive him further into madness if he wasn’t able to control his thoughts. The tugs on the strings around his waist were ignored as he brought himself to focus on just how much attention Hal was giving to him. It gave him so much love to know that he was the focus of someone else’s life.
Perhaps noticing his lack of awareness in the space, Hal’s hands were back on Monty’s shoulders as they asked, “Are you still doing fine, my dove? Do they need to be loosened?”
“It feels…well I’m not quite sure how to describe how it feels. I suppose that is the way it goes when someone first experiences something that is entirely foreign to them.”
“Would you like to open your eyes now so that you might see the garments I have chosen for you? It might help me to adjust them if you can see how the fabric is moving in and out.”
All he could manage to give was a single nod as Hal finally allowed Monty to turn around so that the smaller man was facing the mirror. They leaned over to straighten the vest once more as Monty opened his eyes to the ensemble. He caught Hal’s fingers in his own as the reaper traced the floral pattern on the edge of the shirt cuff. Monty realized that this smaller suit was remarkably similar to the one that Hal had worn on the night they met.
“It’s not a bad feeling, Hal. In fact it’s quite comforting. More so than I have felt at any other time when wearing undergarments.”
He moved his hand to lay over Hal’s, and he watched both of their expressions as the air circulated in his body. Hal had returned their lips to Monty’s neck, but this time they had moved their gesture down further. They were able to reach just down below his collarbone before sinking their teeth into the tender flesh. If Monty’s breath had not been so contained by the presence of the new corset, he imagined that his elated sound would have been much louder.
“You like it then? The corset?”
“I love it, but I do have a question about it.”
“No question about the suit, my dove?”
Perhaps Hal had noticed how much attention Monty had been paying attention to the floral designs on the shirt that now hung on a nearby rack. At first, he didn’t think that his counterpart was paying that much attention to the shirt when he had first searched through the upstairs wardrobe. It was remarkable that the similar pattern looked so much different on his own body. It was still flattering on his own form, but he found himself wishing to see the suit on Hal once again. With curiosity about Hal and fashion still in mind, he came to his question and asked, “Have you ever been known to wear a corset, Hal?”

the brigadier rides again!
LMS VI: Lunch Appointment with Death

  








You won't know the outcome of something unless you try it.
— manilla