marlowemuses | 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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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.

Lover, I know you're weary

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