cast_iron_bitch | (no subject)

Laurent's feet cut a direct line from the hospital to his Terrace rooms. There were any number of places he might have gone to clear his head - or swing his arms, as he was in a rare mood to cut something down to its marrow - yet Laurent did not trust his mood to take him anywhere but home.

Of all the people, of all the traitorous, miserable wretches. This place seemed to collect every possible person from everywhere, human or not, alive or dead, yet it could not see fit to ever bring his brother.

Laurent stopped. It was cold enough that the very air he pulled into his lungs stung all the way down, yet for a moment he couldn't move. This was, perhaps, the first time he allowed himself to admit to hope. Auguste might yet come, even if Darrow insisted on bringing every horrible person from home first.

Shoulders rounding against the wind, Laurent continued on, chilled enough now to hurry indoors, but he found when he was at last standing in his apartment and pulling off his frozen scarf, the core of him was still molten, roiling with a fury he could not seem to expunge with clear and measured thought.

Laurent cast his eyes about the living until his gaze came to rest on a vase. It had been in these rooms longer than he had, there when he moved in. It was squatty and blue, nothing he would have ever chosen apart from the color, but the fat bottom rested neatly in the curve of Laurent's palm.

He stared at it, then threw it at the far wall with all his strength.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

cast_iron_bitch

'Does he know you are he who my countrymen refer to as the Princekiller?' asked Laurent. 'He does not.' And how satisfying that would be to reveal to him, were it not for the fact that the prince in question was Laurent's own beloved brother.

'A fact that will no doubt entrench his poor opinion of me,' Laurent continued with a flat expression. Apart from speaking ill of Auguste, there was nothing Aimeric could say to upset him now. 'Reveal it if you like.'

From:

princekiller

He didn't wince at the name though it was a near thing. Laurent's older bother remained a ghost between them, the one act for which Laurent could never forgive or forget. Not entirely. And Damen could not blame him. Whatever the circumstances, there was no changing things now. And, in truth, Damen could not say with full conviction that he would if given the chance. He had done what was necessary in the moment, what his people and his king and father required of him.

Instead, he focused on the man before him, the one he never could have guessed back then would mean so much to him. 'Should he reveal this opinion to me, he'll live to regret it,' he remarked, a grin playing his lips though he meant the sentiment sincerely. 'But it not might not hurt to issue a warning, so to speak. Even if he doesn't fully know who I am, he considers me a beast. Little more than a guard dog. It wouldn't take much to scare him.'

From:

cast_iron_bitch

'Do make use of that mobile phone of yours and take a photograph,' said Laurent, unable to suppress a rush of ungracious mirth at the thought of it. Courage was not something Laurent was certain Aimeric possessed, and the thought of Damen approaching him with any kind of fury was pleasing. The upturn of his mouth relaxed into something sweeter, and he pressed his fingers into the space between the hem of Damen's trousers and his skin.

'I will reward you in advance, if you like.'

From:

princekiller

Damen hugged a laugh at that, continuing to smooth his hands along Laurent's sides as Laurent reached for him in turn.

'For the photograph?' he asked, sliding his hands further up Laurent's sides and then inward to thumb at a button. Not for the first time, he was grateful that the fashion here dictated much fewer laces. 'I'll have to make sure it's a good one. Good enough to frame, even.'

From:

cast_iron_bitch

'Oh yes,' answered Laurent, moving a deft thumb over the button that secured Damen's trousers so that they popped open, leaving him with ample room to slide his hand downward. 'If it is to merit such a reward, it will need to be a satisfying photograph indeed.'

This close to Damen's huge, warm body, it was difficult to think of anything but him, and so Laurent stopped trying. His hand trailed lower, encountering a new source of heat. Laurent felt an answering blossom of warmth of his own, and he looked up, mouth sweetly pursed around a question. 'How many times do you think you can spend before Nicaise arrives home?'

From:

princekiller

Laurent's fingers were cool as they grazed the skin of Damen's lower belly and he sucked in a breath, lips twitching into a wider grin as he held still, still smoothing his own hands over the fabric of Laurent's shirt, feeling the warmth of him just beneath.

'Satisfying,' he echoed with a grin before his mouth dropped open on a silent groan as Laurent's warming fingers took him in hand. Instinctively, he rocked his hips forward, eyes dark where they remained locked on Laurent's as he considered the question. A laugh rolled through him, low and aching as he slid one hand up Laurent's chest and over his shoulder to nudge off at least one layer though it would mean Laurent releasing him, if only for a moment. 'At least twice. Unless you intend to draw it out.'

From:

cast_iron_bitch

Laurent's lips pursed again, this time in satisfaction as Damen rolled, thick and hot and already heavy against his hand. 'I'd like to have you naked before the hearth and in my mouth,' he answered, aware of the fireplace at his back. It was unlit, but it did not need to be for Laurent to picture the golden light dancing across Damen's skin.

He stroked him once, then removed his hand entirely so that his shirt could be peeled away. 'However long you last is up to you.'

From:

princekiller

It was not a difficult scene to imagine and another wave of heat rolled down Damen's spine, cut short as Laurent slid his hand free from Damen's pants.

The gesture was only to aid in Damen's removal of Laurent's coat and Damen studiously went about the task, letting the garment fall to the floor without a care. He wasted no time in setting his attention to the buttons of Laurent's shirt, walking backward as he did so toward the fireplace nestled in the center of the room.

'Luckily, the glass from your little tantrum didn't reach quite this far,' he said with a faint smirk, releasing his hold on Laurent for long enough to find the switch upon the hearth that set the logs within ablaze. It still seemed a strange thing to him, to not have to build a fire at all, but it was doubtlessly convenient. He stepped in closer then, winding an arm around Laurent's middle and bringing their faces close. 'And how will you spend, your Majesty? How may I please you?'

From:

cast_iron_bitch

Laurent's deft fingers found Damen's nipple through his shirt and pinched in retribution for the jibe, but Laurent was smiling when he looked up at him.

'I haven't yet decided,' he admitted, forcing himself to move out of Damen's glorious embrace so that he might strip. To encourage him, Laurent pulled his own open shirt from his shoulders and began to remove his pants.

He said, 'Take off your clothes and lie down.'

From:

princekiller

The pinch wasn't severe, yet even so Damen made a face and jerked with a laugh, the sound melting into a soft, appreciative groan as Laurent slipped away to begin removing his clothing.

'Yes, sir,' Damen remarked, still grinning, his gaze hungry as he took in the sight of Laurent's milky skin, revealed bit by bit. He removed his own clothing at the same time, first his shirt, which came off with one smooth tug, and then his trousers which required slightly more effort.

He continued to grin up at Laurent as he lowered himself to the ground, first only sitting before beginning to lean back, propping himself on his elbows. 'Do you need me to strike a pose?'

From:

cast_iron_bitch

It was impossible to look upon Damen and not want. Were he clothed or prone somewhere without the dappling of firelight, the effect would be the same, and Laurent let a touch of the hunger he felt light his eyes.

'If I could choose just one I would request it,' Laurent assured him, divesting himself of his underclothes so that he might join Damen naked before the fire. The carpet was thin, but Laurent was slight enough that it did not bother his knees. He reached for a blanket from the chaise and handed it to Damen to cushion himself as he pleased, then advanced, gazing down at Damen as he framed those thick, brown thighs with his own.

'I'd like to try something new.'

From:

princekiller

Though Laurent's nudity was no longer any secret to Damen and hadn't been for some time, it was a sight from which he knew he could never tire. Laurent moved slowly but with little hesitation, revealing every inch of smooth, white skin and Damen watched all the while, drank in the sight from his prone stance like a man starved.

He shifted only when Laurent held the chaise cushion out to him, lips quirking into a grin before he settled it behind himself. It proved some bit of leverage as well as support and he hummed, low and pleased, as Laurent then made to straddle him, one pale thigh on either side of Damen's. Instinctively, he rested his hands on those thighs, gripping the lean, firm muscle beneath his palms before sliding them upward to Laurent's hips and then stilling.

'New,' he repeated, intrigued. Laurent's hair glistened in the firelight, strands hanging loose but not quite touching his slim shoulders. Damen's fingers itched to touch, but he remained still. Patient. 'Will you tell me or will it be a surprise?'

From:

cast_iron_bitch

Damen's huge hands framed his hips, and Laurent allowed himself to indulge in the very recent memory of those same hands guiding him up and down again, ensuring that every thrust of Damen's cock found home in the most pleasurable manner possible. His pale cheeks darkened, his pale eyes following suit, but Laurent did not stray from his course of action.

He smiled, enjoying Damen's suspense. 'I think that I won't,' he decided, 'Though I imagine you will arrive at the correct answer quickly enough. Shall I continue delaying?' he asked as he shifted, moving down Damen's body until he could lie between his thighs. Laurent licked his lips to wet them, allowing his oft repressed lower lip to spring to fullness. 'Or shall I get on with it?'

From:

princekiller

Laurent moved like water, sliding down Damen's body with a fluid, mesmerizing grace. Damen watched, ignoring the pang of disappointment in his gut when he could no longer reach Laurent with his greedy hands.

'I would prefer you get on with it,' he admitted with a faint grin, bumping one leg gently against Laurent's side as his gaze dropped to the plump of Laurent's wet bottom lip. Patience was never one of Damen's strengths and never was that more true than when he had Laurent naked before him.

He had an idea of what Laurent might have in mind and his stomach tightened deliciously at the mere idea. He remained quiet, however, and still. Willing to follow wherever Laurent might lead.

From:

cast_iron_bitch

Laurent returned that smile, enjoying the easy anticipation of pleasure on Damen's face. 'Very well,' he answered, lowering his head. He journeyed directly to where Damen was hottest, that thick shaft of flesh that was even smoother than the cheek that Laurent dragged against it. Even filled to full hardness, the flesh Damen's cock was addictingly soft, and Laurent lingered for a moment, simply breathing in the heat that threatened to burn through his cheek.

It was difficult to recall why pushing himself to this particular act had once been onerous. The mechanics of the act were of course the same as in the memories that troubled him, but Damen was nothing like the Regent, not in mind or temperament, certainly not in body or soul. Now it was the easiest thing in the world to open his mouth and let the fat head of Damen's cock rest against his tongue. Laurent held it there, enjoying the taste of him before he began to take him deeper, his tongue flat against Damen's length so that every new inch descended was shepherded by warm, wet heat.

From:

princekiller

Though it was as he'd suspected, Damen was still stunned by the reality of it, of Laurent knelt between his spread legs, submissive and wholly in control both at once. His eyes were dark. Focused. But there was no anger in his expression, no rigid determination as he parted his lips around the tip of Damen's cock. Damen sucked in a breath at the sensation, clamped down on the desire to lift his hips and plunge into the full warmth of Laurent's mouth. His stomach tightened with the effort as Laurent sank lower little by little until, finally, Damen could only drop his head backward against the floor and shudder in a breath, overwhelmed.

'Fuck,' he grunted on an exhale before lifting his head again. He propped himself back up onto an elbow, reaching down this his other hand to lightly card his fingers through Laurent's golden hair. 'Fuck, Laurent.'