(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]

He blushes, hot and cold at the same time, looking up at Ambrose with barely a hint of blue left to his eyes. "Please. Please..."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"Shh," he soothes again, a finger coming to rest on Wyatt's lip. "No need to beg." He pushes back, sinks onto Wyatt's cock with a low, deep, lusty moan. He gets the head in before pausing, dropping his head down and watching Wyatt's face.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

"Can't help it," he breathes out, whisper soft. "Want you so much."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

Ambrose smiles slightly, pushing back again, sinking down the rest of the way in a smooth motion, exhaling as he sinks down. He settles on Wyatt's hips, eyes closed, head bowed and focusing on breathing.

It's been so long... even if it hasn't been for his body.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

Even if his head is foggy with desire, Wyatt knows better than to start making demands. His hands loosen their grip on the pillow to softly trail up Ambrose's thighs. For a moment, he just watches in silence.

"...Sweetheart. Everything all right?"

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"Oh..." He barely breaths the sound. "More than all right, Wyatt. More than all right." He lifts his gaze; his voice is smoky and his eyes black with desire. He leans his weight on his hands, on Wyatt's chest, and rolls his hips in a small circle without lifting them at all. "Mm."

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

Fire. White hot and relentless and perfect, and he moans out loud from it. There's something about the confidence with which Ambrose moves that strums all his strings at the same time. Breathing is becoming a real challenge.

"Ahh..."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

He moves back the other way, then just rocks back and forth, suggesting the movement he will eventually pick up, once again, without ever moving up. He tenses his body and relaxes with a sigh. "Feels so good."

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

It's torture, sweet, mind-frying torture, and it brings back memories of another time and a completely different place. A couch, and kisses and Glitch pressed close and on top of him. It took just one little thing to have him firing on all cylinders that time; it doesn't feel too different this time. He thinks maybe all it will take is one little thing, and he won't know until it's happening.

He squirms, staring up at Ambrose, brow knitted in concentration.

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

Looking back down, Ambrose has a slight flush over his cheeks, cock hard and dark and being ignored in favour of rolling his hips, a slight rise and push back. He shifts the angle slightly and tries it again, eyes fluttering. "That's it," he murmurs.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

Dark hair framing his face and long, dark lashes sending soft shadows over the planes of his face, Ambrose has seldom been so breathtaking.

Wyatt squeezes his thighs, not demanding, just to touch. Just to feel. "Beautiful," he groans. "So beautiful. Feel so good, Ambrose, so good."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"This is nothing yet, Wyatt," he promises. He drew up slowly, tensing his body around Wyatt as he moved up, a small rock of his hips tapping the tip of his cock against his prostate to make himself jump slightly. He withdrew all the way, barely staying aligned.

Then, he pushed back, arched and moaning aloud as he pushed Wyatt's cock over his prostate again.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

It's nothing yet, and Wyatt's already a bit too enthusiastic about it all, bombarded by sensations left and right. It's always a struggle of sorts, to stay firmly in the moment without being overwhelmed, but this leaves him wondering if he's made any progress at all over these precious months with Glitch.

Especially with Ambrose reducing his spine to molten rock with just one push.

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

It's Ambrose enjoying himself, thoroughly. He draws himself up the same way, tensing hard around Wyatt, jerking to knock his prostate again with a moan and part of his lips. The push down is just as luxurious, hips rolling and shifting to drag a low, deep moan out of him as he sinks back down.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

The moan is echoed loudly from Wyatt's lips. It's getting more and more difficult to stay still, but it feels imperative that he does, or the top of his head will come clear off.

"I'm--" he groans. "I won't--"

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"Mm?" Ambrose pauses, looking down at Wyatt again as though only just remembering that that lovely cock is attacked to someone who is now talking to him. It's all show, but he's having fun. "Yes, Wyatt?"

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

For a moment, he just pants for air, unable to form words, looking up at Ambrose with a world of regret in his eyes.

"I'm too close." He looks away, then back again, teetering on the edge between embarrassment and something worse. "I'm sorry."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

Ambrose leans down, stroking Wyatt's face tenderly. "There's not such thing as too close, handsome. Just a compliment that I really am as good as I like to think." He kisses him slow and deep and tender, cupping the back of his neck and head to guide him into the kiss.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

Wyatt melts into the kiss, relaxing from the softly spoken reassurances, and little by little, the embarrassment fades away. His hands move, touching Ambrose wherever he wants to; up his back, down his sides and his arms and his face, through his hair and skimming the zipper embedded in his head. Apart from that, Ambrose is still in charge. He's still in control and stoking the fire to his own liking.

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

Ambrose keeps kissing him, rocking his hips slowly and softly, pushing back against him and letting his own weight drag him forward just a little bit. "Okay again," he asks softly, not wanting to do anything that makes Wyatt uncomfortable.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

"I love you so much," he whispers back. "It just...gets the better of me at times." He smiles. "I'm okay. I was more than okay to begin with."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"I love you too," Ambrose whispers. He smiles and sits up a bit more, twists his hips back and forth to settle and goes back to his slow, self indulgent movements.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

And Wyatt lies back, his hands returning to rest on and caress Ambrose's strong thighs, watching him from under hooded eyelids.

"Love me like you want to. Any way you want to."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"I intend on it," Ambrose positively purrs, returning to his same slow drag and push, riding Wyatt in a slow, measured way designed to drive Wyatt crazy and keep himself comfortably burning until he is ready to kick it up a notch.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

It doesn't take long before his legs move restlessly, curling and kicking out in something approaching frustration, before he's squirming and blushing from the top of his head to almost down to his waist, and every breath ends with a moan of his lover's name.

If this is what going crazy feels like, he'll gladly join the loony bin any day.