cast_iron_bitch | (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.'

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From:

cast_iron_bitch

'I would rather understand my own limits in the comfort of my home than discover them elsewhere,' said Laurent. He could not count Makedon as a learning experience, not when the man had poured and clapped Laurent's shoulder with an equal ceaselessness. Yet his posture had clearly made Damen uncomfortable, and Laurent made an effort to sit deeper amongst the cushions. He had asked Damen here because he trusted him - it would not do to make him feel a threat.

He took another sip of his wine, then a bite of bread. 'Will my ache tomorrow?' he asked, a faint line between his brows for the memory.

From:

princekiller

Gradually, Laurent sat back a bit further on the chaise, muscles uncoiling as the was very carefully forcing them to do so. The words he spoke held logic, however, and Damen silently vowed not to ask again. It was clear Laurent meant to trust him and Damen would not give him reason to question it.

'Possibly,' he answered honestly, taking another, deep sip of his own wine. 'Finding one's limit takes longer than a single evening, I'm afraid. But there are methods to curbing it somewhat. Water, for example. A glass or two before you rest your head can help some come morning. Did you experience any of this with Makedon?'

From:

cast_iron_bitch

'A sensation that my head was soon to split in two?' asked Laurent. 'Nearly favorable to the nausea that resulted from any bright bit of light. I would like to avoid that.'

Laurent steeled himself and had another sip of wine. He was again met with a warmth in his throat and stomach. 'Also, your need to place a bowl by my bed.'

From:

princekiller

Even just the notion of Laurent so far gone as to need a bowl, made Damen laugh faintly. It was ridiculous, really. Almost impossible.

'We'll see what we can avoid,' he promised all the same as he leaned forward to grab himself a bit of bread and another grape. 'Though I will say, the more loose you get this evening, the more you'll pay for it tomorrow. If you're more controlling of what you drink tonight, you'll not suffer so badly, but then that does ruin the purpose of this experiment.'

From:

cast_iron_bitch

Then Laurent must aim for a point in the middle, halfway between control and this elusive looseness. 'I find it difficult to give up control,' he said, shifting so that his legs were drawn up beneath him on the cushions. He leaned his elbow on the armrest and thought the room was perhaps a touch warmer than before.

'Tell me of your first time. What is in the palace, or did Makedon spirit you away to a tavern?'

From:

princekiller

Laurent shifted slightly, drawing his long legs up beneath him. Damen refused to let himself stare, instead taking another sip of his wine.

He smiled at the question, at the memory it brought forth. 'Kastor, actually,' he corrected with a warm smile. 'I was thirteen. It was late and my father was away, out negotiating somewhere across the border. Kastor snuck us out past the guards and down into the cellar where he introduced me to barrel upon barrel of sweet alcohol. We drank ourselves sick, drank for hours, and could barely move the next day.'

It felt a bittersweet memory now, heavy in a way it had never before been, though Damen's smile faltered only slightly. 'I don't believe I've been so sick in my life, before or since.'

From:

cast_iron_bitch

The affection on Damen's face was for a moment too much, and unease roiled through Laurent, as unsteadying as Makedon's wine. He breathed in carefully and wondered why Kastor had waited so long. Why had he not done away with his father, with Damen, sooner? Sentiment? Laurent could not believe that, any more than he could understand why his own uncle had waited so long to make an attempt on his own life. He supposed they ought be grateful, that they'd been allowed as many years as they had in comparative peace.

'Things were good between you once,' he ventured.

From:

princekiller

It was a quiet observation and Damen turned his gaze on Laurent once more, studying those blue eyes, marveling not for the first time at how much less piercing they were here than they'd been in Vere.

'Once,' he agreed, stretching his arm out across the back of the chaise as he relaxed a bit further. 'Though, I'll admit it's difficult to look back upon some events and not see them in a different light now. Perhaps he had truly been trying to poison me that night? If not for the fact that he'd been nearly as sick as I, I think I might believe it. But if that's the case, when did he decide to do away with me?'

But then, Damen thought he did know. And that Laurent did, too.

'A king maker would always choose the weaker man.' The memory drifted to Damen's mind unbidden and with it a similar sensation as the night Laurent had first spoken those words.

He finished off his glass of wine then in one large gulp.

From:

cast_iron_bitch

Laurent watched as Damen's wine disappeared all at once. He leaned forward and found his hand still more than steady enough to refill Damen's glass.

'Do you love him still?' he asked, gratified to hear his voice come out more evenly than he felt. It was masochistic to ask this. Whatever Damen's answer, it would not bring either of them peace.

From:

princekiller

The wine was starting to hit now, a slow simmer in his veins, a growing a haze across his brain. It was mild so far, even after downing his glass, and he happily welcomed another one when Laurent handed it to him.

'Kastor?' he asked, though he knew Laurent could mean no one else. He considered it for a moment, a long moment, and found there was really only one answer. 'He is my brother, he's... Is it foolish to feel as though I might be able to talk to him? If he were here, of course. I'd... I'd like to ask him why. How he could hate me so much.'

From:

cast_iron_bitch

'You tried,' said Laurent. It was foolish to speak of it with wine in his hand, dangerous, even, but Laurent could not leave Damen in suspense. 'I was not there to hear it, but at home you had your chance. If I were to venture a guess, I believe some part of him loved you, too, but not as much as the thought of being King.'

From:

princekiller

It could have been a lie. All that Laurent had shared with him since his arrival to this place could all be lies. And yet Damen was inclined still to believe him.

He took a sip from his newest glass, ran his thumb along the rim thoughtfully. Then said, 'Perhaps that's why he didn't simply kill me. I have to believe that, don't I? That he held enough love for me that he couldn't draw the blade.' The thought brought another question to mind and before Damen could think better of it, he asked, 'Do you know if he still lives?'

From:

cast_iron_bitch

He expected the question. It was inevitable, if not in this very moment, then one day soon, and still Laurent's heart gave a brief, shuddering quake. He set down his wine glass and turned to face Damen fully.

If the wine had impaired him, it was of no matter. Laurent was no match for Damen if Damen wished to hurt him, they had proven that much on the sparring ground. Laurent inhaled. He steeled himself.

He said, 'I killed him. That was not my blood on the chiton I arrived in. It was yours.'

From:

princekiller

Damen felt a weight drop in his stomach the moment Laurent set his wine glass aside and seemed to steel himself. Yet, somehow, once the words were spoken, Damen could not feel surprised. He'd know the blood wasn't Laurent's. As dirtied as he'd been when Damen saw him, as doubtlessly disheveled and worn, he had neither been bleeding nor bore any cuts.

But-- 'Mine,' he echoed for that part was a surprise. 'Did he kill me first?'

He didn't voice the logical next question. He found he couldn't. Somehow in the past month it had become easier to imagine Kastor killing him than Laurent. That realization shook him more than the knowledge of Kastor's death and he sat up straighter, eyes locked on Laurent's. 'In your world, our world, who rules Akielos?'

From:

cast_iron_bitch

The tenderness between them had been a new thing. A fragile thing, one Laurent had only just begun to consider a possibility when he arrived here so abruptly, yet he felt a surge of it now.

He said, 'You, Damianos. He put a knife through your side, but you live. My last remembrance of home are the bells ringing to herald in your reign.'

From:

princekiller

Instinctively, Damen dropped a hand to his side as though he might feel the wound Laurent spoke of. He felt nothing, of course, though his hand mindlessly drifted to the scar he carried lower, the one his brother put there years before.

'That's why you killed him,' Damen said, knowing somehow the truth whether or not Laurent chose to confirm it.

In that moment, everything made sense, the pieces slotting into place one by one, all the glimpses and hints that Laurent had offered since his arrival, his softer demeanor and warmer smile, his desire for Damen's presence and refusal to entertain the notion of choosing between Damen and his own brother. And the alliance he'd mentioned, two kingdoms united to be ruled by two kings.

His breath shuddered, eyes locked on Laurent's.

He'd let himself ponder the notion only twice before this moment and both times he'd ruled it impossible. It still felt impossible, but--

'We were lovers.'

From:

cast_iron_bitch

Laurent inhaled sharply, a reaction he repressed instinctively with a quick, hard lock of his jaw. For all their skirting around it - himself overtly, Damen less so - he had not expected Damen to come to the proper conclusion so quickly.

He was caught in Damen's dark, wide eyed gaze, pinned there as neatly as if by a sword, and Laurent could only gaze back. Was this how he had imagined Damen discovering the truth at last? It did not matter. They had tumbled here, just as they had tumbled here at home. He wondered what Damen must think of it. 'It must seem impossible,' he said. 'Given your memories' end.'

From:

princekiller

'Yes,' Damen replied for there was no reason to lie in the face of Laurent's honesty.

Laurent only stared at him now, wide-eyed and with his shoulders drawn tight as though cornered. Damen felt as though he couldn't move either, felt as though he could barely breathe.

But he did after a moment, and he considered more closely what he could remember of Vere, only now in a new light. Their trip to Nesson, the feel of Laurent's palm on his thigh, the glitter of that sapphire earring upon his neck. He thought of Laurent's body pressed against his own on the balcony, the tremble of his silent laughter, the joyous burn through his body as they'd flown across the rooftops. He thought of their evenings spent hovered over maps in Laurent's tent, strategizing and planning and conversing. The coupling fires at Vask and Laurent's smile when Damen returned to collapse in a heap by his side.

'You said you've always known,' Damen said then because it was the on piece that didn't fit. 'You knew and still you let me bed you.'

From:

cast_iron_bitch

Damen punched the breath from him once more, and Laurent's gaze dropped to his wine glass. He was surely meant to hate himself. That had been his uncle's design, and like all good plans, it was simple, its outcome likely. Laurent had felt revulsion for Damen until he had not, been alone until Damen had no longer let him, been untouched in all the ways that mattered until Damen tumbled him downward. He had no excuse and would not offer one.

He picked up his wine and attempted one of Damen's deeper sips. He offered the only reply held within him. 'Yes.'

From:

princekiller

The reply came with no caveats. No excuses. Laurent knew of Damen's identity from the start and still he'd trusted him. Confided in him. Bent over for him.

He followed Laurent's lead then and quickly took another large drink of his wine before leaning to set the glass on the table. His blood ran undeniably warmer now, but because the alcohol or the new, startling bit of knowledge, Damen wasn't sure.

He suddenly found looking at Laurent more difficult, as though having the doors flung open upon possibility had paralyzed him. He had always found Laurent beautiful, had felt an attraction that had stubbornly refused to yield even upon suffering the end of a whip.

And now he'd seen this Laurent. Softened and warm and remembering a version of Damen he'd yet to be.

Letting out a rough breath, Damen rubbed a hand against his brow and suddenly wished for the wine to take a swifter hold. 'Did our men know?' he asked then immediately remembered another comment Laurent had made and a somewhat strained laugh bubbled forth. 'Ah, what you said of Nikandros and his opinion of you. Yes, I can imagine what he thought.'

From:

cast_iron_bitch

'What they all thought,' said Laurent, which had only ever been half the truth, and nearly always at Laurent's expense. He felt a hardness, the same part of him that had always railed at being underestimated rousing again, and Laurent allowed it. It was preferable to the too raw energy he felt now, as flayed open as Damen had ever been on the post.

He stood and moved under the pretense of fetching the chocolate still in the kitchen. It was where he'd left it, a large unbroken brick of dark chocolate. The merchant had said it would go well with the red. Laurent could hardly see it beneath him.

'And you?' he said, and then, when his voice wavered, 'Does it please you to have gotten a leg over the most difficult ride in all of the four kingdoms?'

From:

princekiller

Laurent abruptly stood then, leaving Damen to stare after him as he disappeared into the kitchen. There was no barrier between the two rooms however so Damen's gaze did not leave him and he frowned when Laurent's tone turned biting, a threatened snake wound tight to strike.

He stood then, rounding the chaise though he did not tread into the kitchen, giving the space between himself and Laurent that Laurent clearly needed.

'It pleases me that I earned your trust,' he said, gaze dropping to the large brick of chocolate Laurent hovered over now and then to Laurent himself, his body held tight, a line of tension despite the drink already. 'And that we were to rule together. Side by side. In the short time I do remember, I know... I do know we worked well together, Laurent.'

From:

cast_iron_bitch

When Damen spoke, his voice was closer, and Laurent held himself very still. They did work well together. Against all reason and odds, they always had, but that did not mean the course had been smooth. 'Eventually,' he said. 'The path was not easy. I am not easy.'

He turned to find Damen standing near the entrance to the kitchen. He was not Laurent's. There was so much he didn't know, so many things that Laurent held little desire to tell him when the truth was not forced, even as he knew that those truths had strengthened their bond. His Damen knew every part of him. This one had only begun. And still.

'You should know that, if you are ever inclined to - ' Laurent paused, his pale eyes for a moment widening as he struggled for the word. 'Deepen our friendship.'

From:

princekiller

That, at least, was an undeniable truth. Laurent was many things -- sharp, manipulative, conniving, even more intelligent than he was beautiful -- but he was not easy. He was warmer now than Damen remembered, but he was still very much the same man with all his sharp edges and piercing tongue.

Knowing what he did now, Damen couldn't help himself imagining how it might have gone. Had Laurent been the one to kiss him first or had Damen initiated? When had Damen revealed his identity? Before, he hoped.

Or did he? Would it have even mattered?

And how had those lips felt against his own? How soft was his skin? Had Laurent asked to be taken or had they simply fallen into it? Had one time bled into another? Into many? How had Laurent's face look when he yielded? How--

Damen forced himself to stop as Laurent's gaze met his own and his breath stilled for a moment before he said, 'You would still want me? Even here?'

From:

cast_iron_bitch

'Perhaps.'

He wanted him, yes, but Laurent had not yet decided if that was wise. This world was new, and in it they could be anything, to anyone. Without the ever spiraling chaos of home to propel them together, perhaps it was not to be, but Laurent would not rule it out.

He cocked his head, finally gathering the chocolate to carry back to the chaise table. He remained well clear of Damen.

'Would you?'