(no subject)

[amicably_absent]

Glitch wanted to stay in the cabin forever, but Ambrose insisted on heading back, getting home the day before the trial was set to happen. He didn't elaborate on why, though it was fairly apparent that he wanted to attend, especially when he spent an hour the night before it setting out clothes, putting them in orders with numbers to clearly mark how they went on. It was a lot of work and planning.

Ambrose, also unlike Glitch, had no problems using the privilege of an attendant to help get ready. He gets dressed carefully in what is just shy of a dress uniform but speaks with position to anyone entitled to know it. The attendant helps him with his hair, getting the ringlets settled neatly, if not combed down in his usual manner. He thinks Glitch would protest it and, as he has been told, he needs to stop being ashamed of the line of steel in his scalp. A few touches of make up highlight his pale, striking appearance and he asks Wyatt to escort him down to the court house.

Wyatt has to be there anyway, as the first officer on scene with the small delegation of Viewers who will also present evidence through a mirror set up in court just for that, one with a moratanium frame that Ambrose thinks he might've designed.

The case isn't short, but the conclusion is foregone. He himself is unable to sit to testify, no headcase testimony can be taken by the court, but since he can't remember anything anyway, there would be no point in unnecessarily working him up into glitching.

He does that enough as it is. Each bit of testimony sets off glitches and skips, fragments of thought and getting caught in cycles. It's a hard, long few hours as they plow though it all. They plead guilty, but it's before sentencing that the judge asks if anyone has anything to say.

That's when he raises his hand. "I do, Your Honour."

The judge gives him a long look. "While you cannot testify, the court will recognise any additional statements you have to offer, Adviser Ambrose."

He stands up, smoothing down his military style coat with the tiny badges across the breast marking the medals he won't wear in public. "My learned judge, I would ask you to consider clemency in your sentencing of these men."

He takes a breath to give the noise a moment to subside. "I cannot and will not condone the acts of violence that have been committed, against myself and potentially against other individuals who have suffered violation at the hands of the Witch's surgeons. Justice and retribution is the domain of the court and the police, and it is unacceptable to have the public taking vengeance for actions that may - or indeed may not - have been committed. The court has already taken action against violent offenders, their headcasing is - believe me - punishment enough for their actions, leaving them incapable of directed malice of any consistent amount.

"But.

"The commonality of headcasing as political terrorism to silence dissidence and rebellion is not yet commonly seen, understood or recognised. Ignorance, in truth, is the enemy here. These men were wrong, but they acted in fear and ignorance. I personally feel no need to vengeance against these men, I pity them for being so scared during these dark times past that they cannot reach towards the better future we are all striving for. I pity their ignorance in attacking those who present a visible sign of their ongoing imprisonment, for the thoughts they had, the allegiances they held and not for any crime committed. Headcasing for crime is almost unknown now, but for political motivations? That has been far more prevalent in recent times. Punishment should be a learning aid, to educated individuals and society and this case and serve to educate these men, theoir families and society as a whole. Not just of the heinous acts taken against political prisoners such as myself, but a learning experience that the barbaric and harsh times of the Witch are over and we will once again strive towards a benevolent society of correction, not vengeance."

He bows his head. "Thank you." And he sits down, reaching for Wyatt's hand.

Comments

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

"Please. I love the way you look with the light of it dancing over your features."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

Ambrose takes another kiss and leans over to poke at the ignition system. Unsurprisingly, in this office, there's a tiny in built system of flints that strikes when Ambrose pushes the button, striking sparks over the kindling in there.

"I kept burning myself with matches. They're so unreliable."

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

"Ooh," he says at that, not at all unlike the first time he saw Glitch fight like a professional. "That's a nice setup you got here."

Looking back at Ambrose, looking him over as the warm glow of the fireplace gets going.

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

Ambrose smiles that pleased little smile of his, just like after that first fight. "Thank you." He shifts back onto Wyatt fully, wriggling slightly to get comfortable. "Nice and toasty warm."

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Wriggling earns him a low groan, but Wyatt can play nice. Take things slow, most of all. "And glowing."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"Mm." He leans down, kissing Wyatt's lower lip. Then the corner of his mouth, barely lifting it to move for a full, deep kiss, taken nice and slow.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

This is the kind of kiss he was talking about. The kind that makes him go weak in the knees and he isn't even standing up. He sighs into the kiss, arms coming up to wrap around Ambrose's shoulders, not quite demanding or possessive, but very much encouraging.

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

he draws back, teeth light on Wyatt's lip but tugging and drawing it out, tongue teasing over the skin before he lets go. He's not as uncertain as Glitch, he kisses like he's in control of the situation and savouring the way he feels and he's making Wyatt feel. A finger tip coyly traces the shell of Wyatt's ear as he leans back to look at his lover, lips still faintly dark with whatever stain he put on that morning.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

It's different. It's the same, but different, and it has him hot and bothered in no time. He's left breathing slightly heavier, licking his lips just to get more of the taste.

"For a lack of a better wording, wow."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

Ambrose smiles and bit more and comes back down, making to kiss Wyatt and then not, instead kissing his chin, up along his jaw to tug his teeth on his earlobe just like he had on his lip, the other ear still being teased with a fingertip along it.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

"Oh."

Surprise. Not shock, but surprise, and a wide-eyed hint of wonder. His eyes flutter half closed, and he sighs. He can't remember this. Not the way this feels. "Mmm."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

Ambrose ends it with a slow suck and light kiss to the damp skin. He moves up to go along Wyatt's cheekbone with soft kisses, down along the side of his nose and then the corner of his mouth again, tongue teasing his skin and then kissing him again.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

They won't have to end, will they? Ambrose's voice echoes in his mind from their lunch date earlier the same day. They won't end, these moments, these warm and sensuous evenings filled with conversation and intimacy. They'll never end. Even when the fire of newfound love runs out of heat, they'll still have evenings like these. Full of promise and enjoyment and passion.

Ambrose calls him poetic, but Wyatt's just speaking from his heart.

His hands move, pressing flat and firm over shoulder blades, over the long, graceful muscles of his neck and further up, to card through soft, fragrant curls.

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

Ambrose stops molesting Wyatt's mouth with his at the touch, tipping his head back into Wyatt's hands with a slow, sensuous roll of his entire body along Wyatt's, moaning softly.

It's pure, decadent responsiveness, soaking in even the tiny motions of affection between them.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

And with that silent invitation, Wyatt grabs gentle hold of Ambrose's hair, keeping his head up so he can reach his neck easily and place kiss, after kiss, after kiss over skin and tendon and pulse. He moans, the tip of his nose tracing jawline as he moves across for more of the same.

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

Ambrose pants a soft breath, legs sliding to straddle Wyatt's body suggestively, rocking softly with the kisses and his own shallow breaths in response.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

He gasps, every move urging him on, heat and pressure building in his lower belly. It feels so strange, to kiss and touch and hold Ambrose like this, and it feels brand new despite the fact he's done the same to this body for nights on end. Perhaps strange isn't the correct term. Perhaps a lack of it is more aptly put. There's a nagging feeling it should feel strange. That it should somehow feel awkward that it isn't Glitch in his arms.

But it doesn't.

It's different, but he never expected it to be any other way. "Ambrose..." he murmurs, letting go of his curls to drag his hands down his back and up again in wide, luxurious sweeps.

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

Rocking a bit more on Wyatt, Ambrose tugs his hair from the grip to kiss his lover again, one hand resting on his broad chest to rub slowly over a nipple, circling and then teasing.

"Yes, Wyatt," he asks softly.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

And another thought strikes, one that speaks of playful unfairness, that Ambrose must have more of an inkling than Wyatt does... And just like that, what was just a matter of rolling a name over his tongue becomes a question of sorts, hoarse and slightly breathless though it is.

"Tell me what you like."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"What I like...?" Ambrose hums, finger circling Wyatt's nipple and then pinching lightly to tug. "I like topping from the bottom. I like wild quickies while half dressed in discreet corners." He smiles slightly. "I like having things to occupy my mouth... I like the feeling of penetration. A lot."

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

He swallows thickly, eyes glazing over and face heating up in response to his lover's almost casual detailing of dos, and all air rushes from his lungs at that tug.

He isn't sure what kind of noise it wrenches out of him, but he knows one thing for a fact. "You're in luck," he grinds out. "I like being pushed around."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"I'd noticed. Just a little," he murmurs with another smile, circling his hips on Wyatt's. "Just lie back, Wyatt, relax for a moment."

He twists his nipple again, sliding down his body to nibble and tug on the other with his mouth.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

He's very willing to relax, to lift his hands to cradle the back of his head and hand over the metaphorical reins to Ambrose, if that's what he wants. And why wouldn't he, when both of them like it?

Pale eyelashes flutter for every sharp pang inflicted on him by deft fingers and moist, hot mouth. It isn't the pain that sends blood rushing to just beneath the surface of his skin. Not pleasure either. It's building sensation, and the context. It feels good just the same; it just doesn't feel good yet. He has an insistent hunch it will. Soon enough.

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

It's making his nipples tender and sensitised. So that when Ambrose changes slides, slowly licking and then blowing cool air carefully over the damp skin in a light tease.

His fingers stroke Wyatt's hip.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

Goosebumps rise all over his chest and arms from that little hint of air alone, and he moans deep in his chest.

Yeah. That hunch was dead-on.