marlowemuses | Lover, I know you're weary

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Lover, I know you're weary

It was a subtle thing. King Auguste wasn't sure how long it had been going on without him noticing. Months. Perhaps even years--Laurent was an introspective creature, and Auguste hadn't thought to look for signs of Laurent's infatuations. Laurent was nineteen now, and Auguste supposed that Laurent must have started feeling romantic attraction years before, but Auguste had never noticed. Laurent was still his baby brother, bookish and shy.

Laurent trotted after them everywhere. He was like a cat, in that it was hard to tell he liked you at all until you noticed that he took care to be in the same room as you as often as possible. Nyx was Auguste's best friend and his trusted guard captain, and it was often the three of them together. They were Auguste's closest and most trusted advisors.

So it took Auguste some time to notice that Laurent's eyes followed Nyx around a room. Even when he noticed, he thought that Laurent had developed some suspicion about Nyx. It took longer for Auguste to notice that on very rare occasions, Laurent's lips would part when he looked at Nyx and an expression of yearning would cross his face.

It was sweet, and at first Auguste dismissed it as a crush.

After four months, Auguste realized that Laurent was in love, and that he would never say anything and Nyx would never notice. So he hatched a plan.

It took some time for him to get a chance to speak to Nyx alone without Laurent present.

"I have a strange request to make of you," Auguste said. His eyes lingered on the door where Laurent had recently left.

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And all of a sudden, Laurent is a step too close, an elegant hand placed upon his chest. Nyx's heart flip flops in his chest, a sudden, startled contraction, and in that moment he almost pulls away, almost calls an end to this... whatever it is. This is a dangerous game to play, and his orders to prevent anyone from flirting with Laurent ought to very well include himself, sham marriage or not, lest he take things a step too far. But Auguste's earlier high-handedness still rankles in his throat, and even if all of this is just an elaborate joke he's playing on his hapless former Captain... that doesn't mean Nyx can't enjoy the moment for what it is.

"Who, me?" he instead replies, gaze dropping to the hand on his chest and then slowly lifting to meet Laurent's gaze full on. lips curving easily in a familiar lazy smile before Nyx flashes Laurent a warm and perfectly flirtatious wink. "Can't imagine why you'd think that."

Laurent's smile is genuine this time, more genuine than it's been in a while, and he slides that hand up to curl around Nyx's neck. Pressing in close, Laurent watches Nyx's eyes for a moment, fingers tangling gently into the hair at the back of Nyx's neck, and he guides Nyx into another kiss. If this is all he gets, and if Nyx is willing, then Laurent doesn't see any reason to deny himself.

His nerves almost get the better of him-- and there's a laughable thought, that he, Nyx Ulric, ex-refugee, hardened soldier, and former Captain of the Veretian Guard, could be left quivering in his boots at the prospect of kissing one too-beautiful prince.

Which is... nonsense, of course. What is he, some sort of shrinking virgin? No, Laurent has a hand at the back of his head, lovely lips curved into a soft smile that reaches all the way up to his eyes, and if Nyx doesn't-- think too hard about things such as consequences and royal decorum, about nothing else but the promise he'd made Laurent...

I'm yours.

Nyx closes that last inch between them, covering Laurent's mouth with his own. It starts out careful, tender and chaste, until a faint pang of terror/dread/guilt tightens in his chest and Nyx leans in further to shut up the voice of reason, deepening the kiss with warm lips and a careful brush of tongue.

Laurent makes a soft little sound of contentment as Nyx's tongue tentatively explores his lips. He presses a little closer, hand tightening on Nyx's neck while the other hand slides down Nyx's arm, finding one of Nyx's hands and putting it on his waist, encouraging Nyx to touch. He wants to be held, and embraced. Even though he knows that this likely means nothing in particular to Nyx, it means the world to Laurent.

His kiss is shy and soft, revealing the honest nerves he feels beneath his usual confident demeanor. He's waited so long for this, always denying his own desires in favor of the advantage that his virgin bed could offer the kingdom. Now, over the course of just one day, he's ready to throw it all away.

Nyx follows Laurent's lead, the hand on his waist sliding to the small of his back as he draws him closer, ardent and adoring as he kisses Laurent deeply with skilled tongue and warm lips. Here, at least, they're back in familiar territory, and everything will be fine if only Nyx doesn't allow himself to think, only to respond to the sweetness of Laurent's mouth and the unspoken yearning of his body.

A step forward, and he has Laurent very nearly pressed up against him. The heat radiating from his body is intoxicating, leaving him breathless with desire. The hand on Laurent's back has drifted lower, resting on his hip, and Nyx's heart seems to skip a beat-- this is the Crown Prince he's touching in such a familiar way, he shouldn't-- No. If he follows this line of thought, then he'll have to stop, and Nyx... doesn't want that.

Laurent's aching with desire and nerves. He wants this so badly, even if Auguste is furious. It's so hard to think of Auguste as furious, and he's never punished Laurent for anything like this before. He's always encouraged Laurent to go after what he wants, and Laurent has always chosen the practical, dutiful options.

"Take me to bed?" Laurent asks, murmuring against Nyx's lips. It's a little too hesitant to be a command, but Laurent's certain that he wants this. He wants Nyx. If he only gets a night, or even if he's fortunate enough to have a few days or weeks, Laurent wants Nyx. "You're mine for tonight."

Something in his chest flipflops as Nyx's thoughts all come stuttering to a halt. Kissing and flirting, that's one thing. It's all play, in the end, harmless and sweet. But what Laurent is suggesting... is a step beyond the precipice, from which there's no return. And in this, his head and his heart are both aligned.

This is a mistake. Laurent is merely acting out against Auguste's chafing restrictions and cruel secrecy. When he finds out the truth of Auguste's intentions, foolish as they might be, he may well feel deceived, hurt and angry.

But... Nyx swallows hard as his arms tighten around Laurent's back, unwilling to let go. In the end, it doesn't matter. Not what Nyx wants, nor what consequences he might face. Only what Laurent asks of him. Only his desire. Exhale, a long breath, and when he lifts his gaze up to meet Laurent's eyes, if the expression on his face isn't exactly romantic, well... steely determination and willing acceptance will have to be enough.

"As you wish," he murmurs, "my Prince." And in one smooth motion, he leans forward and-- scoops Laurent up and off the floor, an arm around his shoulders and the other tucked beneath his knees, carrying him back toward his quarters.

Laurent notices the way Nyx’s attitude changes at his request, and he’s puzzled by it. A moment before, Nyx had been so heated, and even now he pulls Laurent closer and sweeps him up, but Laurent’s not sure if that my prince is playful or distancing, and there’s something guarded about Nyx’s expression now. As he sets Laurent down on the bed, Laurent straightens up, lifting his chin and studying Nyx openly. “You can always speak your mind freely with me,” he states, though it’s less permission and more command. He’s not going to bring Nyx to bed if Nyx has any reservations about it.

He meets Laurent's penetrating gaze with a steady look of his own, all attentive focus and calm determination. Even so, there's something soft in his expression, the corners of his eyes crinkling with gentle affection.

"Alright." Taking Laurent's hands, Nyx brings them up to his lips in a careful, chaste kiss, exhaling in a rush of warm breath before he begins to tug carefully at the intricate lacing on the cuffs. "You're the most beautiful sight I've ever seen."

Laurent watches him closely, not quite ready to let it go. Nyx handles him so differently, and Laurent's wary that he's only doing this out of duty. He doesn't want to take advantage of his handsome guardsman, no matter how much Laurent might want him. "You hesitated," he insists, though he lets Nyx have his hands, holding his wrists steady as Nyx begins to unravel the lacing. "I couldn't bear it if you felt guilt over this, Nyx. Tell me honestly why you hesitated."

The movement of Nyx's hands slows fractionally, and in that instant he's glad that his face is turned downward, so that Laurent can't read his expression. The young prince has already proven himself to have a keen eye for reading hearts and minds. And Nyx... Nyx can't be honest with Laurent about anything, and that's the worst part of it all.

"Laurent..." And he can't bring himself to flat out lie, either. By whatever measures necessary, Auguste had said in ordering Nyx to play out this charade, but that would still be a step too far. Maybe if Nyx can... distract him, turn his attentions in another direction, this would be less unbearable. The air escapes his lungs in a huff that turns into a soft chuckle, low and sultry, and Nyx makes no attempt to hide the wry affection that colors his voice as he answers.

"No, it's just that I, ah, when Auguste had assigned me my new post, I hadn't envisioned the first night going quite like this. Still feels like... like a dream, if I'm being honest. Like any moment now, I should expect to wake up." His eyes are still turned steadfastly downward as Nyx plucks at the delicate lacing, but a hint of a smirk lingers at the corners of his lips, and he makes no attempt to hide the edge of wicked heat in his gaze as he glances up at Laurent through his lashes. "No complaints, mind you."

Laurent's still wary, because he knows where the power lies in this situation and he doesn't want to take unfair advantage of that. He nods, deciding that whatever his hesitation, he trusts Nyx. If Nyx says he's pleased by this, then Laurent's happy to accept that.

"I've never had anyone in my bed before," Laurent confesses, because he feels that Nyx has a right to know that, and how much this means to him. "Despite the rumors. Is that all right?"

He cups his hand around Nyx's neck, still closely studying Nyx's expression for any hint of hesitation.

"Never?"

There's no disguising the look of shock on Nyx's face before he catches himself, realizing-- damn, that's not a good response at all. "I mean-"

Despite the rumors, Laurent says. Not that Nyx had heard much in the way of credible rumors, barely bothering to hide a roll of his eyes whenever the court rakes started swapping outrageous tales of their conquests. No, Laurent had never been the coquettish sort, far too much aware of his royal stature to dally lightly with many partners. But surely this can't be his first...? There's no reason for the price to lie, but of all the trusted noble companions and loyal followers of the throne Laurent could choose from, why would he turn to Nyx?

Nyx isn't ashamed of who he is, what he is, a common-born refugee turned soldier, a son of a foreign, far-away land who'd come to call Vere home, granted a title and authority through sheer bloody minded determination, luck, and the generosity of royalty. But he knows his place in the world, his place in the court, whatever ridiculous titles Auguste might bestow upon him, and surely this is...

"Shouldn't I be the one asking you that? Look, I know I've got a... reputation." To put it lightly. A warm laugh, an inviting look-- Nyx is easy, and he knows it. "Are you sure?

“There’s no one else I’d trust, Nyx.” Letting go of him, Laurent drops back on the bed, propping himself up on his elbows and lifting his leg to offer the lacing at his ankle. “You’ve seen how people treat me. There’s no one I trust more. No one I desire more. If it would please you, you’d be welcome in my bed every night.”

Laurent’s confident, certain eyes drop away at that last line. Affairs are common in Vere, but Laurent doesn’t trust that his unknown future husband will be permissive. “Until... as long as we can.”

No one else. No one I desire more.

Words well up in his throat- flirtatious self deprecation, brushing off the compliment-- and die away. Even if Nyx hardly feels worthy of so much trust, it would be churlish to make light of this, the affection Laurent has admitted to him, the certainty in his voice. He swallows, trying to fight back the flush of red coloring his cheeks. There's already one virgin in the bed tonight, no need for Nyx to do his best imitation.

(Had he ever heard anyone say such a thing to him...?)

"I'm honored..." Your Highness, he nearly says again, and catches himself just in time with a wry grin. No, Laurent's made it clear-- no titles, no standing on ceremony. Just the two of them tonight. And perhaps Nyx can manage that, setting aside duty and status and the weight of all his secrets just for tonight. For Laurent.

He catches Laurent's foot, leans in to press a kiss to his knee, fingers smoothing over his thigh, slender, deceptively well-muscled legs before pulling at the lacing, undoing them with deft fingers before tugging free the knee-length boot.

"And I'll stay by your side for as long as you'd like. Until... you wear me out, that is." Another kiss brushed against Laurent's ankle before he reaches for the other boot. This time, the grin Nyx flashes up at him is in earnest, the sweetness of it all finally getting to his head. Laurent wants him in his bed, wants Nyx, scars and teasing bravado and stupid jokes and all. It truly is an honor.

Laurent's smile appears, sweet and genuine, at the sight of Nyx's honest blush, and how genuinely surprised and pleased he is to hear Laurent's feelings. That's the gift that Laurent wants to give him, even at the cost of his own pride. He wants Nyx to know how valued he is, and how much Laurent cares for him.

He laughs when Nyx turns his hesitation into a jest, making light of the situation and letting Laurent push his fears aside so that he can focus on the delight of the moment. "You're setting high expectations of my stamina," Laurent replies, watching Nyx with affection and trust clear in his eyes as Nyx unravels the complex series of laces.

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Lover, I know you're weary

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