cast_iron_bitch | (no subject)

(no subject)

He was too aware of his pulse.

It was foolish, as a good many things Laurent had decided to let transpire tonight were foolish. Still, he assembled several bottles of wine, a plate of cheeses, a small assortment of meats, loaves of bread, and grapes. It was too much, but so too was Damen's appetite. He had placed a large carafe of water in the cold box to chill. He had dressed himself in a long sleeved shirt, a tie, removed the tie, and put it on again.

He should not have demanded this.

Laurent could count on one hand the number of times he had given up control in the last seven years. That any had had a happy ending was an affront to plausibility, but it hadn't escaped Laurent that each favorable time had been with one man. Yet each time had been the result of circumstance, the both of them caught in an escalating chain of deadly events and each doing their best to survive it. Never by Laurent's own hand, save for that night in the fort, that evening in the inn.

A heavy knock came at the door, rendered by an overlarge Akielon hand, and Laurent waited in silence while his heart climbed down from its perch in his throat. He went to the door and opened it. Damen was on the other side.

'I hope you don't expect a spectacle.'

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

There was no edge to Laurent's tone, no condescension. And, even if he wanted, Damen could not deny the truth in it. He wanted, as fiercely as he'd ever wanted anything.

He thought maybe he had for some time and only now, only when it seemed possible, had let himself acknowledge that want.

And yet the request seemed jarring. Had Laurent ever asked anything of him? Certainly nothing in this manner, nothing that involved what Damen so readily wished to give. His fingers curled slightly, catching on thin fabric as his heart raced, and he managed a nod. 'Anywhere you'd like,' he said, resisting the urge now to smooth his hand higher up Laurent's shoulder, to feel the soft, bare skin of Laurent's neck with the pad of his thumb.

Laurent had anticipated a yes, yet his heart raced when he received it. He gave a small nod of his own as his eyes journeyed the length of Damen, curled as he was on the chaise. They swept over ankle and knee, broad hands and broader shoulders until they landed once more near Damen's throat.

Laurent lifted a hand, which hovered for a moment before it pressed forward, carding into Damen's loose curls. Warmth exploded against his palm, and Laurent drew in a breath. 'I have never done this,' he admitted, lest Damen think it all a pantomime of what transpired before. He moved Damen's hair from that place where it curled against his throat, dragging his fingers along the spot after. Damen's pulse thrummed against the pads of his fingers.

'After all that I can recall between us, it is strange for me to think what we have not done.'

The trail of Laurent's gaze felt like a touch in and of itself, at least until Laurent's fingers made contact. Then there was no comparison at all. Damen swallowed at the weight and warmth, light as it was through Damen's hair at first before his path led him to the soft skin of Damen's throat.

Months ago, this might have worried him, to let Laurent, the snake-like Prince of Vere, so close to skin so sensitive. A well-placed thumb or flick of a nail and Damen could bleed out. But there was no threat in Laurent's touch, only quiet wonder. His heart rabbited beneath his chest as Damen pulled in a breath, eyes locked on Laurent's.

'And what haven't we done?' he asked, grazing his fingers down the length of Laurent's upper arm and back up again as he struggled to get his breathing under control. 'Surely you touched much more of me than this.'

'Yes,' Laurent agreed, 'A good deal more. But as I said, our moments were few.' They did not seem to be now, and Laurent took his time, his eyes drifting to Damen's face. He could feel Damen continue to touch him, the journey of his hand longer now, but as he made no move to grab him, Laurent did not resist.

He raised his hand, dragging the backs of his knuckles against Damen's cheek before he cupped it, grazing the flat of his cheekbone with his thumb. 'I've not spent in your mouth,' he offered, thinking on what lovers must do. 'Nor been inside you. I've not bathed with you save for that very first time that ended so poorly.' He traced the dark line of Damen's brow, first one, and then the other. 'I've not studied your face with the leisure I prefer.'

Laurent's lifted his hand to graze the his knuckles along Damen's cheek before that same hand cupped the side of his, knuckles replaced by a slow swipe of his thumb. Damen's mouth fell open at the imagery Laurent's words wove even as he spoke of thing they hadn't done. None of it felt surprising. No one had ever been inside Damen; he could barely fathom the idea of it though suddenly he did wonder upon it, if Laurent even wanted that or if he far preferred to bend instead, to be taken.

'And now?' he asked only when Laurent had taken a breath. He reached forward with his other hand then, resting it atop Laurent's thigh, fabric warm under his touch as he skimmed his fingers higher. Laurent's touch left a fire in its wake, tender and maddening all at once. 'We've nothing but time here -- you can look as you'd like. And touch. Is there... would you like any of that?' He turned his head just enough to brush his lips across Laurent's smooth palm, pressing a bare kiss. 'Would you let me suck you to completion?'

Damen's mouth dropped open, and Laurent resisted the urge to trace his lips next, certain that the act would change his answer. 'I hope so,' he said, for even now he wasn't certain that he could let himself go far enough to spend in Damen's mouth. Taken by Damen's cock, completion had been inevitable, the thrust of his body too insistent for even Laurent's stubborn mind to resist. But Damen's mouth had been more delicate, the pleasure glorious, yet easier to evade.

He said, 'Not tonight.' Damen's hand was on his thigh, and Laurent placed his own on top of it to still its movement. Any further and he was not certain he could stay on the path he had set for himself. 'I did not ask you here to fuck.'

It seemed a strange response, though Damen wouldn't question it right now. He found he couldn't, not when when Laurent dropped a hand atop his own, stilling his movement, though gently.

'I never thought you had,' he said, though Laurent's nearness had his imagination whirling, that touch upon his neck still burning. 'We were only to drink, to... loosen up,' he said with a soft, warm smile. 'I think we've achieved that, at least.'

He raised his hand from Lauren't shoulder then, slowly, giving Laurent more than enough time to pull away or still his hand before the backs of his fingers brushed the curve of Laurent's jaw, skin just as soft and just as warm as Damen imagined it would be. 'I wish to court you,' he said, his voice quieter now. 'In the manner in which you deserve to be courted. As equals. Will you let me?'

'Yes,' said Laurent softly, 'We have achieved that.' Pulling his hand from Damen's cheek, he touched his shoulder instead, following the line of skin that led to elbow, from forearm to wrist, fingers just skimming Damen's own where they touched his cheek. He did feel looser, but wine was not the reason for these gentle caresses, he thought. It was Damen's own inexorable pull, as impossible to resist now as in Ravenel.

He curled his hand around the one atop his thigh, simply holding. He said, 'I would like that, if I may court you in turn.'

Laurent's touch was just as light, just as careful as Damen's, slim fingers skimming over the skin of Damen's arm and wrist and the top of his hand, his other hand curling within Damen's. Every light touch sent a warmth through Damen's veins, entirely different from that caused by the wine.

The response to Damen's inquiry made him smile and he laughed again as he curled his thumb over Laurent's, holding that hand tightly over Laurent's thigh. 'And what does a Veretian courting entail?'

Laurent felt a tremor of distaste. 'Gifts, I believe. Jewels, clothing, anything to be paraded and lorded over others. I paid little mind to the custom. It held no matter, my line ended with me, regardless. But for you - '

Laurent considered. He smiled and said, 'Well I do not believe you will be much swayed by books.'

It was far from Laurent's first smile of the evening, yet still it made something in Damen's chest clench tight. He brushed his thumb over Laurent's knuckles and let his other hand trail down to rest lightly at the skin just above his high collar where he swore he could feel the steady beat of Laurent's pulse.

'I'm not illiterate,' he said, though the smile on his face never wavered. 'And I do like a good tale. And song. Though, in truth,' he added, his voice softening, 'I would just like to spend the time with you we were not afforded back home.'

A play, then, thought Laurent. Another film like the one in the park, but watched in a more intimate setting. 'I can think of a few things that might tempt you,' he said. An arrangement of sparring, his mind further supplied, a horse of Damen's own, or a sword, even if society here afforded little use for one.

The list grew, and indeed, it was easier to dwell on than the pressure of Damen's hand against his collar, unmoving yet perilously close to capturing all of Laurent's attention. It had been the second place Laurent had felt Damen's lips, after his mouth, that single touch enough to change the nature of the evening Laurent had planned entirely. He had not meant to want him in Ravenel, and Laurent could not allow such an early overturning of his senses now.

Laurent raised his eyes, his cheeks pink beneath them as he gazed at Damen. 'I will switch to water now.'

Damen thought he could imagine a number of things Laurent would find very tempting indeed and he let himself indulge in a bit of wondering for the moment as he brushed his thumb back and forth above Laurent's collar. How would Laurent's skin feel right here against his lips? How would he taste? Would he tips his head back, would he give himself?

It was another moment before Damen realized Laurent's eyes had returned to his own and he let out a shaky breath, a smile ghosting his lips once more.

'Too loose?' he asked, his touch sliding down to safer territory of the fabric of Laurent's shirt before sliding away entirely. He needed some air himself, he found as he pushed to his feet. 'Do you find the sensation unpleasant?' he asked as he searched for a glass in Laurent's cupboards.

'Not unpleasant,' Laurent answered, drawing his first full breath in moments when Damen rose. He suspected they both knew it was not onlt the wine that had gone to his head, but if Laurent could only eliminate one usurper of his control, so be it. 'Simply too loose.'

Laurent looked up at the sound of his cupboards opening and rose to his feet, catching subtly at the back of his chaise when the world tipped. 'I did not mean for you to fetch it to me.'

He was not aware of Lauren't close proximity until hearing his voice again and he glance back over his shoulder, glass in hand. It occurred to him only then that he'd risen as though ordered, though it didn't feel like that way at all.

After filling the glass with water, he turned and noted Laurent's cheeks were still flushed though he carried himself well.

'We'll call it a manner of courtship,' he said, his tone soft as he held the glass out to Laurent. 'You were in want of something and I'm happy to provide it.'

The glass was very full, and Damen very close. Laurent made an appraisal of himself and released the countertop so he could reach for it with both hands, taking a long sip before he lowered it again.

He said, 'You are always happy to help people. Any people.' His eyes slipped to halfmast. 'There had been no one like you in Vere since Auguste.'

The comparison to Auguste stopped him cold, his eyes caught on Laurent's. He waited, wondered how much of that statement was due to the wine and how much Laurent felt to be true.

It was a moment that stretched too long, felt too weighted, before Damen could finally manage a quiet, 'That is an honor I have not earned.' There could be no man to match Auguste in Laurent's eyes, a fact Damen could understand deeply. He'd felt similarly to Kastor at one time as misplaced as such devotion might have been. 'Helping you and your men was also in my own self interest,' he pointed out.

'You have never been any good at discerning your own self interest,' Laurent countered, sounding, of all things, fond. He sighed and braced his hip against the counter, finding it easier to share his weight with a solid, unyielding surface.

'He would have liked you.' He smiled a little. In better circumstances, what a world it might have been.

Again, Damen fell quiet and still. Laurent was greatly loosened, that much was obvious, and the moment felt fragile, easily lost if handled too roughly.

'Why do you think so?' he asked, standing before Laurent, as close as he would allow himself for the moment, which wasn't very close at all. He let a slow, teasing smile grace his lips. 'Was he fond of barbarians?'

'Not especially,' Laurent answered, lifting his water for another careful sip. 'But you are an honest man. Do you know,' he said, sounding far away for a moment, 'I can't recall the Court before Auguste died.'

He'd had no need to. Auguste would be king, and he'd watched over Laurent in every step. 'I do not know if it was always so venomous, or if my uncle made it so.'

'Well, I know what my father would say,' Damen replied, his smile still warm, still fond as he watched the way in which Laurent cradled his glass of water. There hadn't been a single moment Damen had considered Laurent small or helpless, not even when Laurent had been drugged and targeted for assassination.

But now he seemed... slight in a way. Still not small and certainly not helpless, but younger as he spoke of his brother. 'But it does seem as though your uncle has poisoned many things. I do wish we might have seen a Court under the rule of King Auguste if he was anything like the man you remember.'

In the six years that Auguste had been gone, Laurent had committed him perfectly to memory. Every smile with which he had greeted him in the morning, every laugh when Laurent won at horses, every stern look he'd been given when Laurent's tongue was too sharp and the grin breaking on Auguste's face like sunshine when he agreed. The smell of his hair, the breadth of his shoulders where he had so often born Laurent aloft. All of it, carefully fixed in Laurent's mind and immune to the passage of time.

He said, 'He was everything I remember.' Laurent drank again and regarded Damen, so physically unlike Auguste in everything but size, so very much like him in heart and mind. 'The kingdoms might have united far sooner.'

'Do you really believe so?' Damen asked, chancing a half a step closer and lifting his hand to brush a stray lock of blond hair from Laurent's forehead. He lets his touch linger, fingers skimming down the side of Laurent's face, along the curve of his jaw before falling away again. 'And do you think he still might have liked me even when I started courting his little brother?'

It was a strange thing to imagine. If there was a universe like this one, a universe so unlike his home where he and Laurent were both dropped unexpectedly, could there also be another where Auguste had lived, where Damen hadn't run him through, where Vere had prospered and the Regent wasn't a regent at all. Could Akielos and Vere have united without bloodshed?

Damen stepped closer, and Laurent felt it as if a wave bearing down on him, his presence nearly a physical touch until it was one. The pads of Damen's fingers against his cheek were so exquisitely delicate that he felt his eyes close, a small tremor passing through him until the touch fell away.

'With two good men on the throne,' he said, 'Why not?' Theomedes must have been one, to raise a man like Damen. 'Perhaps it would not have been me you wished to court at all,' Laurent noted, opening his eyes. 'I am half the man that Auguste was.'

'You suggest I might have wished to court your brother?' he said with a quick laugh of surprise. 'He was very different from you, was he not? Likely more agreeable and quicker to smile. Born to rule as I was, trained for it.'

He said it all with no small amount of fondness and the end in a softer tone as he shook his head. 'After knowing you as I have, I feel like I'd find anyone else very boring, even your brother though I mean no offense.'