marlowemuses | This will be happily ever after...

"I thought you liked me without clothing," Laurent teased, completely missing the jealousy because it would never have occurred to him that Isander might return or that he--or anyone else--could be competition for Damen.

Moving to the bedroom, Laurent slid his arms up around Damen's neck, wanting to kiss him properly, since they'd spent the past day with only hurried, false kisses. "Damen," he murmured, nuzzling briefly at Damen's cheek before turning his head to claim his husband's lips. He pressed close, chasteness forgotten in his desire for the intimacy and affection that Damen offered.

"I like you dressed for the occasion. Alone in our bedroom is a good occasion for nudity." Damen's gaze made free with the elegantly exposed lines of Laurent's shoulders, his chest, the lean flat planes of his stomach. Lingered on the pink tips of his nipples. Damen wasn't taking the chaste suggestion too literally either.

The weariness, the loneliness, the craving he'd felt for affection, all made themselves known as he felt warm breath on his cheeks, and then on his lips. Damen bent his head. Tilted it. Lapped at Laurent's mouth hungrily, like he'd been starving all day for the realness of this kiss. One hand cupped Laurent's face like water in his hand, drawn up to his mouth. His body inclined towards Laurent, more and more each times their lips renewed their contact.

Damen kissed like he needed it. Because he did.

He didn't try to touch or provoke anything further. Just folded Laurent to his chest and sighed against his mouth. Dark curls tickled Laurent's cheeks, Damen leaning in deeper.

Our bedroom. Laurent liked the sound of that. Liked the implication that he had a place here, and that Damen wanted him as part of his life.

Winding one hand into Damen's hair and keeping the other pressed against Damen's broad chest, Laurent returned the kiss, sweet and sincere, following Damen's lead without offering any challenge this time. He was tired of fighting. He just wanted to trust to Damen, and to the sense of Damen's honor that he was starting to understand.

Whimpering very softly against Damen's lips, Laurent pressed close against him, craving the feeling of safety and affection that Damen provided.

This was the point where things usually...escalated. Damen's body knew it too. It was his mind that kept him in control right now, if just barely, feeling the pliant flow of Laurent's body against his own. The awareness of it brought delight, for it meant a reprieve to his physical loneliness and a renewal of the open-hearted affection he'd received in small doses from the changeable Prince.

(If only Damen didn't fuck it up tonight.)

The sound of Laurent's whimper was tucked away into the corners of Damen's mouth. He treasured it as something strangely needy from Laurent, even if he didn't yet know quite what Laurent needed. He hoped, perhaps naively, it was him.

Backing up a few steps, he took a seat on the edge of the bed and drew Laurent with him, to sit however he liked in his lap. Even sitting, Damen was an unavoidable presence, his breadth simply spread out in different ways.

Laurent slid to straddle Damen's lap, thighs pressed on either side of his hips. He hugged his arms around Damen's shoulders, tucking his face against the side of Damen's neck and just hugging tight for a few minutes. "I'm tired," he said, offering that small piece of vulnerability to Damen. "I feel like I've been exhausted since I reached Marlas."

Damen was so warm, so solid and safe. Laurent let his eyes shut and his breathing slow, trusting himself entirely to Damen.

Damen settled the welcome weight of Laurent around him with a quiet sigh of contentment. He'd rarely felt Laurent so relaxed, the looseness of his body tangible against Damen's own. It seemed a proof of trust of him. So did the confession.

Approvingly, he stroked one big hand slowly up and down Laurent's spine. It was strangely comforting, offering him comfort without aiming for anything more. Damen was aware of the smoothness of the skin beneath his fingers, the heartbreaking fineness of the bones, the muscles that were so often tensed, things he would have noticed in a sensual context too, but it was different this way. It meant learning Laurent for his own sake, not as part of any seduction.

Damen's chest rose and fell against the slim torso finding refuge there. He found he loved being the one Laurent turned to for this. He hoped to the ends of the earth it wasn't a trick.

"Then rest," he murmured, and his lips traced the curve of Laurent's brow. "Take what you need." His arms tightened around Laurent. For one night, he would shut out the rest of the world and let them just breathe with each other.

"Mm," Laurent responded, sleepy and incoherent. He sighed once, relaxing deeper into the comfort and warmth of Damen's arms.

"Damen," he murmured, barely audible, and not awake enough to be saying anything coherent. Nuzzling at Damen's throat, Laurent sighed again, and drifted into sleep, trusting Damen simply to hold him.

For a while, Damen simply watched him, letting his thoughts drift wherever they may. His longing for this all to be real had never been greater. A sense of peace settled over him, seeing Laurent at rest with him, feeling him let down his defenses and simply lean on him, trusting him enough to fall asleep in his arms.

The sleepy murmur of his own name from Laurent's lips plucked at something tight and aching in his chest. Damen closed his eyes and arched into the soft nuzzle of Laurent tucked against his throat. He hardly dared move a muscle. He wanted this to infinitely last. The only parts of him that stirred were the deep constant breaths filling his chest, the slow graze of hands over Laurent's back.

His. But he could not say it. Not without breaking the beauty of this peace between them.

When sleep began to touch the edges of his own consciousness, Damen drew the slumbering Prince very carefully with him into the bed, tucking sheets and then himself around him. Damen unpinned his chiton and let the fabric simply pool at his waist. He hadn't bothered with any other garments today, nothing underneath that he need remove to sleep freely. The bareness of skin soothed him as he wrapped his chest around Laurent's back, his arms around shoulder and waist, and his forehead curled against soft blond hair.

This evening's fantasy had come true. Who could have ever predicted it?

Laurent grumbled softly as he was shifted, nuzzling at Damen in sleep. He settled against Damen on the bed, claiming one of Damen's hands and winding their fingers together.

When he woke, warm and safe in his husband's arms, Laurent smiled, feeling content and well-rested for the first time in weeks. He shifted in Damen's arms, rolling over so that he could nuzzle and kiss at Damen's cheeks to wake him.

Everything felt easier and more hopeful this morning, with simple intimacy and no expectations. Laurent found himself smiling, wanting very much for all this to be real.

Damen slept like the dead that night.

His bed - their bed - was warm and perfect, troubles set aside to be with each other simply and peacefully. He'd needed the rest too. He'd been running on a handful of snatched hours over the past two days. Morning seemed to come too soon.

Except morning also brought a kiss and a wriggle of a body that he knew was not any of the usual suspects (though his own body had its usual waking interest in said wriggling companion.) Damen was half amazed that Laurent hadn't snuck out and left him to wake up alone. He found he was wonderfully glad for that.

He gave a little, lazy smile too, before he even opened his eyes. His biceps loosened around Laurent as he rolled, then snugged back against him, Damen on his back with Laurent over his chest.

"Morning?" It was a question and a greeting all at once. Damen yawned and cracked open his eyes, threading his fingers through Laurent's hair, fluffed up from bed. The smile broadened. "We made it. Well-done, us."

Edited (cause morning kingwood) 2017-02-20 00:00 (UTC)

Laurent smiled at him, stealing soft kisses from Damien's lips as they woke up. "It helped that we were both asleep and thus had no occasion to argue."

Nipping once at Damen's chin, Laurent laid his head on Damen's chest, making himself comfortable. He was still wearing his trousers from last night, which were too tight to lounge in comfortably, but at least protected his dignity. Which could not be said for Damen, whose sleep-rumpled garment hid absolutely nothing about his condition.

"I see that your situation is... to be expected," Laurent teased, giving Damen's nipple a light flick.

"Even that is an accomplishment. I think we deserve to celebrate it." With kisses and a furtive rub of bare thigh against silky not-bare-at-all thigh.

Damen gave a harumphing grunt as the sensation toyed at his nipple, sliding down his spine. "Nobody asked your opinion." Indeed, Laurent would find his King tended to awake in that...situation, more often than not.

"I was going to remove these, last night..." Damen's hand skimmed down one trouser leg. "But you sounded so put out at simply being laid down that I could not bear to disturb your rest with any more commotion. Are they...uncomfortable now?"

He did not quite venture between, but his fingers came dangerously close.

"They're not the most comfortable attire for sleeping, no," Laurent agreed, slightly hesitant about being naked with Damen, since things had gone so poorly before. "Thank you for letting me fall asleep on you. It was... nice."

Embarrassed by the confession, Laurent tucked his face into Damen's neck, hiding his blush. He nipped briefly at the skin of Damen's throat to help distract him.

They were making progress. Laurent sounded almost boyish, the sharpness and angularity of him tucked away into a surprisingly sweet shyness.

Damen smiled, head tilted to allow Laurent to rest there under his chin. Even allowing those nips. "It was nice," he agreed. "As is this. We have nowhere pressing to be. Will you stay abed with me a while? Now that we are rested...I would be glad for the chance to talk a bit."

He wasn't angling for anything sexual, in other words. On the contrary, he wished to find out certain things and this seemed like the best place to talk about them. His hand found a lace. "Would you prefer to stay in them?"

"I... suppose I would. It would make me less nervous. Though I'd rather change into pajamas, but that would mean getting up and leaving my husband's embrace. And he makes a comfortable mattress." Laurent kissed Damen's cheek, pleased by the prospect of staying with him and talking. "What would my husband like to discuss?"

Keeping an interested eyes on Damen, Laurent toyed idly with a strand of Damen's hair, enjoying being able to explore him.

Nervous. Truly? Damen slid a studying look at him. He remembered what Laurent had said last night, and started to wonder if he wasn't the only one left feeling vulnerable by their disastrous sexual encounters so far. He simply nodded and left the laces alone. He liked the way Laurent called him by that name.

Mornings, Damen's hair was even more of a wild mane than it was after being tamed in the bath. Curls launched themselves in every direction, and the moment Laurent let one go, it would spring up more enthusiastically than before.

"Yesterday," Damen said. He spread his hands over Laurent's bare back. "You were angry when you left the room. You have parted in anger every time we try to make love. I begin to think that I am - unwittingly forcing my attentions on you." Those soothing strokes returned, a slow rhythm tracing Laurent's shoulderblades. "Will you tell me, husband, what angered you, so that I may know what to avoid in the future?"

Laurent tensed and quieted. He'd avoided thinking too much about the details of their intimacy together. There were quite a few details of their marriage that were easier not to think about. Better to focus on the good things, and try to nurture the seeds of hope between them.

After a few moments, Laurent squirmed away from him. He rolled over, turning his back on Damen and curling into himself, struggling with the words that Damen required of him.

"Give me a moment," he said, choked, because he had to answer. He'd promised Damen his honesty, and he needed to find a way to provide it, even when it was wrenching.

Alarmed, Damen felt his fears confirmed as Laurent pulled away from him, the comfortable relaxation exchanged for tension and separation. He nearly reached out to touch Laurent, and drew his hand back just in time.

Instead, he tucked the sheet around Laurent's back and left the space between them unbreached; a quiet but unmoving presence beside him. Laurent had promised him honesty, and in turn he had offered to listen, to respect his wishes and treat him as an equal.

"As much as you need," he promised, settling back to simply watch the curled line of Laurent's back, the barely visible contours of his face.

"You make me feel vulnerable," Laurent said. The words were half stifled by his arm. He felt half sick with tension, because honesty made him even more vulnerable. "You made me feel used. You said that I belonged to you, as you held me down, and then you... you came on me like you were marking me. Claiming me."

Laurent shuddered, feeling more miserable by the word. It hadn't been so bad when he hadn't had to quantify what had made him lose his temper. Laying it out made it all the more awful.

"You made me feel vulnerable, and then you made me feel like a whore," Laurent said. He shuddered again, emotions and confidence crumbling because he had nothing left to use as a defense, not if he was being honest.

That said, he got to his feet, not looking back at Damen because he didn't want to see the look on the king's face.

Vulnerable, he knew already. But used... Damen didn't know how to absorb this new information. Restraint. Mark. Claim. Whore. The images flashed in a series of increasingly disturbing visions of himself, as Laurent must see him.

He frowned, troubled by the knowledge. His first instinct was to defend himself against the allegations - but no, that wouldn't do any good, and besides it wasn't about him. Laurent's feelings and reactions to his own actions were at the forefront here. And he had a clear responsibility to try and make it right, if he could.

"I am - sorry, Laurent." The words did not come easily to his lips. But they must. Damen sat up, hands in his lap where the sheet pooled over him. "I seem to misstep at every turn when it comes to you. I thank you for your honesty. I - didn't know."

He spoke haltingly, trying to choose his words carefully. "I would like to be honest as well. To have the chance to explain my own intentions, if they might ease your hurt at all. If you will stay and listen."

Laurent seemed on the verge of fleeing; he had already fled the bed, and Damen didn't know how they were ever going to move past this if one or both of them kept running away.

Laurent returned warily, sitting on the edge of the bed and watching Damen. He wanted to trust Damen, wanted to try and deepen the trust and honesty between them.

Face guarded, he watched Damen, willing to hear what he had to say. He appreciated the effort, knowing that Damen was unused to any of this. He was also unused to any of this, and could feel his heart pounding with emotions. He'd promised Damen his honesty, but if that honesty displeased Damen, he'd be left without any defenses.

It was a good first step. Now if he could only manage not to scare Laurent away again with his clumsiness.

Damen found it easier not to look him in the eyes for this part. "I was angered that anybody should touch you against your will. I told you you did not belong to them. What I should have said - what I believe - is that you belong to yourself; your body is your own, to share with whom you will."

He found the courage to glance up, though tentatively, at the man before him. "I was honored that you chose to share it with me. I would not have continued as I did if I knew you felt used because of it. I never want to make you feel that way again."

And yet - was that possible? He could no sooner deny his own passionate nature than Laurent could deny his pointed tongue and provocative nature. There was still that small part of Damen that could not help wanting to do exactly what Laurent had said - to mark him, to claim him as his own - but he pushed it down and out of his thoughts for now, as something that would send Laurent running, never to return.

Laurent softened, pleased by the honesty and the efforts Damen was making. Sinking back down onto the bed by him, Laurent leaned over to give him a light kiss on the lips.

He didn't think that it was the kink of it that he minded, and part of him liked the idea of belonging to Damen, being possessed and claimed, but with all of his nerves and doubts it hit hard upon his insecurities.

"You're not bad at this talking thing," Laurent said, scooting to sit against the head of the bed, hugging a pillow as he watched Damen.

Damen could hardly believe that Laurent wasn't running as fast as he could. Amazed and relieved, he stayed very, very still as Laurent settled back on the bed and - oh - kissed him, lightly but deliberately.

He watched his husband's movements closely, unsure of what Laurent wanted from him now. It seemed safest to let Laurent make the first moves when it came to touching or proximity. Damen folded his legs into a more comfortable sitting position. "I'm going to get lots of practice at it, I think," he said, a wry look at Laurent. "On mornings where there is nothing scheduled early, this would be - nice." His hubsand's favorite word.

Laurent was so good at lounging. Damen arranged a pillow awkwardly behind himself and leaned against the headboard in suit. "What is your morning routine in Vere?"

Laurent smiled, pleased and comforted by Damen's efforts, and leaned his head on Damen's shoulder. "Sleeping in, stealing a few pastries and a jug of tea from the kitchen, and then sneaking off to the library or the woods and spending the day reading. Not so much stealing, either, really. Since I was twelve, there has been a conveniently placed jug of tea and bundle of pastries lying specifically unattended on a certain table in the kitchen."

A grin twitched at one side of Laurent's mouth. He knew that his servants were fond of him, and it was mutual. He missed them already.

"I was mostly left to myself, unless there was some topic that my father wanted me tutored in, or if they required me to appear at court or dinner."

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