marlowemuses | This will be happily ever after...

"Ah," Laurent gasped, amazed that such simple, light touches could have his head swimming and his heart fluttering.

His hand slid up Damen's chest, curling around the back of his head so that he could wind his hand into Damen's hair, pulling him a little closer and encouraging him to continue.

Soft little gasps and whimpers escaped him every so often, cheeks flushed with fascination and arousal.

Amazing, and enlightening, how little it took to ignite Laurent's senses, when too much only set him blowing up in Damen's face. The sounds of his gasps, the inhaled breaths, the tugs of his fingers, each came as a new confirmation of how beautifully sensitive Laurent could be, even how pleasurable those reactions could be for Damen.

The sleeve would go no further, and so Damen left it for now to tug loose its twin, and then to give the other wrist the same treatment, a slow application of lips and fingers, collecting all that he could from Laurent, enjoying him to the fullest.

When he finally reached for the simple neck laces, the gesture had leisure to it, as it never had before. He found his way back to Laurent's mouth as he enticed the strings to give way for him, little by little. Just like Laurent, they did.

Damen's fingers slid beneath the fabric at the back of Laurent's neck. "I'm glad I asked. I would be sorry to miss all this." If his pride and foolishness had left him too stubborn to try it Laurent's way...turned out, it was a very satisfactory way.

Laurent's stifled little noises came a little freer as Damen continued, kiss by kiss. He gave his other wrist willingly, curling his bare arm around Damen's neck again so that they wouldn't have to part. Each soft touch entranced him, dissolving his objections and doubts.

He shivered as Damen's touches moved to his throat, lashes fluttering. Leaning back just slightly, he lifted his chin to give Damen free access, tilting his neck to offer more of himself.

Laurent had known that his skin was sensitive, and that his throat was vulnerable, but he'd never known how much. Moaning softly as Damen's hand curled around his neck, Laurent leaned forward, muffling the rest of his moan with a kiss. He shuddered against Damen, fingers curling possessively around one of the clasps of Damen's garment, too distracted to ask to release it as he sought out Damen's mouth for kiss after kiss.

The longing he felt as Laurent gave him access to himself simply didn't compare to the lust he'd felt before. Damen could experience this desire, could acknowledge it, could even burn with it silently from the moans of the beautiful man in his lap, but this longing found its quench and renewal in lavishing Laurent with the kinds of touches he liked.

He felt the grip of Laurent's hand on the single brooch that held his garment up by one shoulder. Heard the unspoken question there. "Yes," he said, and reclaimed Laurent's mouth. That much, at least, Damen let himself claim. Who else could kiss Laurent this way? No one, he said in his kiss. Only Damen.

Inch by inch, he mapped out the contours of Laurent's neck, light swathes down the back of it, his fingers indescribably gentle and slow-moving as he swept around the side of it, the long pale front, laces tugged loose and deep to expose more of it. Damen let his kisses fall to Laurent's chin, the line of his jaw, the space just underneath it. He kissed that pulsepoint too. Slowly, his lips worshipped the soft vulnerable flesh there, tracing down the column of Laurent's throat.

Laurent plucked at the clasp, tearing the fabric slightly in his impatience. He pressed close against Damen, rocking his hips with instinct and need as they kissed. Laurent's nerves turned into yearning as his hands skimmed over the broad, strong chest of his husband.

"Damen," he whimpered, the name like a plea as Damen explored his throat. "Go on. Mark me."

It was only fair, after all, though Laurent's pale skin would show off any mark vividly compared to the ones he'd left on Damen, but he had his high collars as defense.

His hands returned to Damen's hair, trailing laces over his shoulders as Laurent's fingers locked around Damen's curls, cradling his head with possessive reverence.

The skimpy fabric fell away from Damen's chest, leaving him bare to the satisfying mercies of his husband's greedy touches. A low thrum curled inside him from the first movement of Laurent's hips against his own. It found voice in his throat, the shape of a groan hidden against Laurent's skin. His body cried out for more contact. He would not let himself press up, fearing the too-bold and un-asked for contact of his hardness against Laurent's groin would startle his shy husband away. The denial strained at his thigh muscles beneath the weight of the other man's body.

Mark me. Unthinking, Damen growled, low and needy. He could still feel the points on his own neck where Laurent had bitten him. He could already envision Laurent wearing his mark under those tightly laced collars. Untouched, his cock gave a furtive throb.

Damen's lips found the nearest mark. He suckled gently at first, tugging wetly at the skin, slowly wooing more of the flesh beneath into his mouth. But he wanted to the red to bloom across Laurent's porcelain skin, and so he made a seal and drank deeply of the taste of him. His tongue flicked through parted lips to bathe the tortured hollow in soothing licks. Something welled in his chest, fierce and sated, at leaving something of himself on Laurent, by his husband's request no less.

Laurent cried out, not expecting how exquisitely erotic it would feel to be marked like that. He writhed in Damen's arms, quivering with aftershocks from it even once Damen had finished with that mark.

Needing a moment to recover, Laurent pressed his forehead against the side of Damen's neck, clinging to him and shivering lightly with all the emotional and physical sensations. "Damen," he murmured again, breath evening momentarily. "I'd like you to do that again when you're inside me," he said, then grinned and blushed at his own boldness.

That cry shot arrow-like down Damen's spine, pooling at the base of it where his body clenched in pleasure. Yes. Laurent was exquisite in his undoing, all from just a single mark. How might he fall apart with Damen making him fully his own?

He cradled Laurent to himself. He too was glad for a moment to breathe, and to admire the deep crimson bloom glowing on Laurent's neck. Damen's arms tucked all around Laurent's body while his hand stroked the bright golden hair. The morning light picked up glimmers of different colors in the strands, yellow and platinum and honey and wheat.

Damen gave a satisfied grunt. No need to reveal to Laurent how hard that confession made him. "I'd like to do that again and feel you come," Damen said, frank and low in Laurent's ear. In Akielon, one would usually couch such things in pleasing euphemisms, but he wanted no mistake in what he wanted to do with Laurent.

Laurent smiled, sweet and rich as honey, and kissed the side of Damen's throat. "Then I guess you'd better make some progress in undressing me," he teased, straightening up and giving Damen a heated, inviting smile. He lifted his arms to let Damen pull the shirt over his head, now that they had released enough of the laces.

He felt exposed again, but the warmth of Damen's affection made him feel safe. They were establishing new boundaries, finding out what made them both comfortable, and what pleasure they could share.

He couldn't help but be aware of Damen's condition, since his wardrobe did so little to hide it. He resisted the urge to tease that it was a permanent condition for Akielon men, not yet wanting to draw direct attention to it. His own erection strained at the silky fabric of his pajama pants, deeply interested in their activities.

Damen's confidence was returning as he began, very slowly, to understand what made Laurent tick. His sense of achievement soared to see Laurent openly inviting him to disrobe him; his heart turned a strange aching somersault inside his chest at the smile Laurent gave him.

Carefully, he disentangled his lover's upper half from the silky shirt. He'd been glad of the covering when his amorous attentions were put on hold; now, he looked his fill, his gaze caressing the beautiful planes of Laurent's torso.

"I believe there's a Veretian term for the experience of reliving a particular memory," Damen said. His thumb traced the elegant line of a collarbone. "Deja vu?" A recent memory at that. They had been bare-chested all last night and this morning, but this time, the stakes were all different. He still hesitated to move too quickly, to lose all that they had gained thus far.

"Let's hope this memory has a different ending," Laurent said, lifting his chin to give Damen better access to his throat and collarbones. "Did you leave a mark?" he asked, preening a little at being admired like this. He trusted now that Damen would do nothing without confirming his comfort and consent, which made it easier to relax and enjoy this. "How does it look?"

Damen's eye was drawn inexorably to the unmistakeable shape of where his lips had sealed to Laurent's neck, the dark bloom of it standing out far more on him than it had on Damen. It was...a rousing sight. And Laurent seemed to glow with pride at offering him that sight.

Damen brushed his lips across it, reverently. "Repeatable." Not yet. Not until they were fully joined and he had Laurent on the cusp, trembling and taut beneath him. But soon. He ached for its fulfillment.

The languor of his kisses across Laurent's throat, his hands across Laurent's chest, did not betray him, even if his lap certainly did. He tasted slowly, savoring. He didn't need to rush this.

"What ending are you hoping for this one?"

Laurent's jaw tensed at the question, eyes dropping and then flicking up to Damen's face, letting him see the nervous tension that he felt at that question rather than the casual insouciance he usually preferred as a defense.

"Hope is a useless sentiment," he said instead, fingers curling tentatively around the bend of Damen's neck and shoulder. His grip was a little too tight. "Hope is for those who have no power to take action to achieve their goals."

Laurent didn't want to get into a philosophical argument, although he was far too mule-headed and opinionated to back away from one. He wanted to be distracted.

The word had touched a nerve in Laurent, though Damen didn't know why. He felt and then saw that tension spread over Laurent's body. Instead of going on the defensive, Damen tried soothing away the fraught reaction with hands that stroked at Laurent's shoulders. He nuzzled at the curve of a clavicle. "I would rather act than hope, Laurent." It was something he tucked away for later, something he didn't want to distress Laurent with right now by questioning him, but his curiosity and concern were both piqued.

Damen slid upwards for a moment. His lips made a soft imprint on Laurent's, coaxing him back to presentness, to relax with something familiar and good; the warm taste of Damen's mouth, the close embrace of his arms wrapping around, the brush of dark hair against Laurent's cheek. He held this for longer than he'd planned to, enjoying the simple intimacy of it.

He touched Laurent's shoulders. "Lay back for me?" He would not normally frame it as a question, but Laurent's wishes were too important to him to risk the return of trepidation with anything like an order.

The sweetness of the kiss helped immediately. Laurent's eyes closed, relaxing into the kiss and letting Damen lead him. His arms curled fully around Damen's shoulders, wanting to remain close to him.

Nodding warily at the question, Laurent slid off of his lap, settling back onto his elbows. He watched Damen through hooded eyes, immediately nervous and tense again and trying desperately to fight off the nerves. He hated being on unknown terrain, of being vulnerable and not in immediate control of any situation, and it was a struggle to yield to Damen, when their past encounters had often ended poorly.

Damen was almost sorry that all of the beneficial effects of their kisses were instantly reversed by his request. But their respective heights and positions meant exploring Laurent any further while in his lap would be nearly impossible anyways. He would just have to un-tense Laurent all over again.

He hovered over him, another kiss bestowed on Laurent's mouth, as a sort of peace offering or reward for his yielding. He stroked a wayward lock of blond hair back. "So that I may taste more of you," he explained. "Is that all right?"

It was true, their amorous encounters had more often than not ended in disaster, but this morning was different, Damen thought. He kept his gaze on Laurent's face as he bent to touch his lips below the line of collarbone, over a swath of pectoral. More, only if Laurent wished him to.

Laurent nodded, still tense but willing to make an effort for Damen. Each kiss relaxed him, as Damen started to explore the bare skin of his chest, and his hands settled in Damen's hair again, fingers tightening possessively each time Damen did something he liked. "Damen," he murmured, melting under the sweet reverence of Damen's kisses.

Strange, that he should like it so much when Laurent gripped him possessively like that. Or perhaps it wasn't so strange; Damen loved each act of claiming his husband, and knowing that Laurent wanted to claim him too in small, physical ways was indescribably satisfying.

Hands and mouth explored together. He charted out each swell and dip of Laurent's shoulders, his chest, his ribs. He skimmed close to the rosy circle of an areola, only to veer away. He wooed Laurent's pleasure like he'd wooed his lips, hoping to hear his name murmured again in those tones, with pleading in them this time. Damen's breath crested the slim rise of muscle beneath the nipple. His nose, the strong Akielon lines of it jutting out, grazed the sensitive bud in a suggestion of a nuzzle.

The light, careful touches of Damen's explorations worked quickly to unravel Laurent again, dissolving his nerves and making him forget everything but Damen.

His breath hitched, teeth clamping around a whimper, body arching and trembling at each teasing breath and tentative nuzzle.

Only half aware of what he was doing, Laurent's legs tangled around Damen's thighs, possessive and starved for contact. "Damen," he breathed, tugging at him in wordless demand for another kiss.

Damen collected sounds like treasures, quivers like spoils of war hard-won with tenderness. He reined in the urge to pursue, letting the instinctive course of desire mounting do the pursuing for him.

He let out a low hiss as he felt the silky twine of Laurent's still-clothed legs around his own bare thighs. The skirt of his chiton hung forward in his crouch over Laurent's body, barely concealing his erection. The kiss was easily acquired, Damen drawn forward to meet Laurent's lips again, hungrier and far less chastely than before. The warmth of him was escalating into heat, a fire gathering fuel into something not so neatly contained.

"Ask," he said in a breathless rumble between kisses. He had not pressed forward; he stayed hovering well above Laurent. He did not want to misinterpret this time. Whatever his body strained for, it should be something Laurent desperately wanted too.

Laurent shivered at the question, tensing. His eyes flicked open, studying Damen's eyes, trying to guess what he should ask, what Damen wanted, what Damen thought he would say. Trapped by the uncertainty of it, the difficulty of honesty when he didn't know what he wanted and didn't know what was the desired response, Laurent swallowed, cheeks flushed. "For what?" he asked, voice steady despite the nervous uncertainty he felt about everything, about how Damen kept asking what he wanted and Laurent still had no answer.

A warning flashed in Damen's head: tread lightly. Laurent's wariness reminded him of nothing so much as a hunted deer, skittish and startling at every forest crackle. He touched Laurent's face, very gently.

"For what you want. I cannot read your body very well yet. It seems to say one thing, but your mind may say another." He slid a hand to wear one of those long legs was twisting around him. "This feels like an invitation, to come closer, thus..."

He barely knew how to navigate this dance of words instead of actions; he had to resort to them, pressing his lower half towards Laurent's in a single, deliberate grind of their laps. Damen kept the rest of his weight off of the man beneath him; rose back up; the contact was broken again, but he stayed close enough above him that a single tug of Laurent's arms or legs could bring him back down again.

"Is that what you want?"

Laurent gasped, body tensed and cheeks flushed, as Damen ground against him. He watched him warily for a moment, eyes sharp and defensive, and then suddenly relaxed, and huffed out a laugh.

"Get off," he said, but his tone was gentle. He gave Damen's chest a push to get him off, and then nestled up against Damen's side again, making quick work of unfastening the rest of Damen's clothing. "Take care of it," Laurent said, guiding one of Damen's hands down to Damen's lap. "Otherwise you're going to be impatient."

Laurent knew he would spook if he tried to push through his own nerves again, but he could do this. He could stay, watching, curled up at Damen's side with a possessive arm over Damen's chest.

Well, at least that answer was clear.

Damen lightly swung off and back to their original place sitting at the head of the bed. He couldn't hold back the thread of disappointment that he'd misread Laurent's cues. A flush of mortification spread over his cheeks at the second part of Laurent's wishes. It was as if Laurent thought he couldn't control himself enough in this state to be patient and take his time with him. For someone of Damen's experience, that was highly embarrassing.

His face turned towards Laurent, eyes flickering over his features. His husband looked entirely serious. And ready to fly at any moment if Damen didn't do as he asked. The prospect of 'taking care of it' himself was one that held little appeal to Damen, who rarely had any need to do so given that he rarely slept alone anyways. He stared at Laurent, then down at his bare lap.

"Talk to me?" Hesitantly - Damen was not used to hesitating about anything - he curled his fingers around himself, far more interested in the man at his side than the stimulation to his cock. "Tell me what you imagine, when you touch yourself."

"Mm," Laurent said, nuzzling at him instead, preferring to use his mouth to nip at Damen's jaw, kissing a path up to Damen's earlobe and tugging at it. The question was difficult and made him nervous. He preferred to imagine anonymous men, of approximately Damen's build, ravishing him with no care as to his consent, but that was a fantasy, and confessing it had too much risk of giving the wrong idea, when Damen was only just getting accustomed to the idea of asking for everything.

His fingers found Damen's nipple, playing with it with less sharp teasing than he'd done before. He rolled the pads of his fingers over it, attentive to Damen's pleasure.

"Go on," Laurent coaxed, breath tickling at Damen's ear. "I want to watch."

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