marlowemuses | Fools in Love, for gentry

Languid and comfortable, Laurent toyed with the little locket, considering the hollow within and debating what he wanted to put there. The warmth of Gansey's arms and affection lulled him, and he let his eyes go low-lidded, disinclined to move.

"Tomorrow?" Laurent asked, lifting his head with concern. "Why? What is happening tomorrow?"

"Maybe nothing, maybe everything."

Gansey was also quite disinclined to move. The weight and warmth of Laurent in his arms was nothing short of amazing. "But I don't want this moment to end," he sighed, a tad dramatic, rubbing the curve of his cheek against Laurent's shoulder.

"I would very much like to stay like this with you forever." Time, sadly, would keep going. Going and going—and if Laurent was with him, he was okay with it. But a man was allowed some selfish dreams.

"What do you mean, maybe nothing, maybe everything?" Laurent squirmed against him, displeased at the prospect of there being something of significance that he didn't know about. He sat up partway, twisting so that he could study Gansey's face. "Gansey, I don't like surprises that aren't gifts. What's happening tomorrow?"

"There are no surprises," he promised. "I'm merely thinking about the inevitable flow of time, how incredibly linear it is, and how one will never know what the next day will bring. Pointless musings." He shrugged, "I'm sorry if I worried you. A bit of a bad habit, those."

And a hard one to shake when one was prone to idle anxiety. Not an altogether crushing sensation, but one that lapped like waves on the shore, gently eating away at the bank.

Glancing away from his fiance, he studied the moon, big and bright against the dark sky. "Times like these... I wish I could freeze them, or hold them in my hands. But there's no mastering something so much greater than ourselves. It makes me feel small—humbles me, if you will." Looking back to Laurent, Gansey offered a sheepish smile.

"Sorry. Rambling."

Laurent sighed, his own wave of panic subsiding once he was reassured that there were no surprises. Frustrated, he sank back against Gansey's shoulder, resting his head there. Gansey's baseless worrying irritated him--Laurent always figured he had plenty of real problems to worry about, why waste energy on possibilities?--but it was a small enough pet peeve to endure.

"What if time isn't linear?" Laurent said, in hopes of derailing Gansey's train of thought back into more positive territory. "I've encountered cultures where the concept of time doesn't exist at all. You can't hold it, or touch it, or see it. It doesn't matter. It just distracts you."

Turning his head, Laurent kissed the side of Gansey's throat, letting his lips linger a moment too long, warm with promise. "From this," he murmured, breath warm against the skin.

"Tomorrow," Laurent said, rising to his feet and shooting Gansey a tempting smile. "I was planning to ask you to tie my wrists and suck my cock. But if you stay in this moment forever, you'll never get there."

He took a step backward, all playful temptation. "Your choice."

It was an interesting prospect. Time not mattering, that it was merely a distraction, and he considered it. Very Gansey-like; always entertaining the possible and impossible, the likely and the unlikely. He wasn't sure how he felt about the notion that if it could not be touched it didn't matter—he would argue that things such as love and memories were also similar but they mattered quite deeply.

Would, of course. Would. Time as a distraction was a question. Laurent as a distraction was a certainty. Especially talking like that.

Which was why Gansey's mouth opened and closed quite uselessly for a good minute before he managed to tug on the collar of his tunic and clear his throat.

"A rather simple one," he admitted, gaze flicking from the ground up to Laurent, mesmerized as always. That was one way to win a debate that hadn't even really started. One day, he decided, he would somehow manage to be the one making Laurent wonder if the room had gotten several degrees hotter.

For now, he was a pile of putty in his lover's hands. A thing he honestly did not mind.

Laurent stepped back and Gansey stood, attempting to catch his love around the waist.

"I will always choose you."

Gansey already did manage to make the room heat up around Laurent, as everything else in the world dropped away.

The words caught him, forestalling his half-planned chase, and he remained still as Gansey's arms encircled his waist. Entranced by the loyalty and affection in Gansey's eyes, Laurent forgot all his irritation, all his teasing words and intellectual debates. Lips half parted, he stared at Gansey, eyes flicking only briefly to his mouth before getting lost again in Gansey's eyes.

He wanted, more than anything in the world, just to be held, to be loved, to be safe. His control over the situation slipped, for once, and he let it go. For once, he didn't need a plan. He didn't need to have their next activity planned, didn't need to make any decisions to control every last moment of their time. Surrendering it all, he let himself simply be entranced, trusting Gansey to decide whether to lead him back to the swing or inside to bed.

Gansey pressed his hands on the small of Laurent's back and slid them up slowly, basking in the sensual, in the feeling of soft fabric against his palms and the warmth underneath it. The delicate shape of his lover's spine, the curve of his back.

Their needs met beautifully. Gansey so longed for someone to feel close to, someone to love, someone he could hold in his arms like this and never truly want to part from. Holding Laurent flush against him with one arm, the other skimmed up gently so that he might caress the gentle slope of the other man's cheek, tenderly brush his thumb across Laurent's perfect lips.

In this moment, his thoughts weren't straying toward the swing or the bedroom. Only on one thing: leaning down, slowly, and pressing his mouth against his lover's in this impossibly beautiful garden. Hand cupped, he brushed strands of blond hair away from his lover's face as he kissed him. Not a short kiss. Not a teasing kiss. Not even a lustful kiss.

It was the kind of kiss that ladies often sighed about after reading one in books. That poets wrote about, that minstrels crooned about. Thick with love, devotion, and promise. And when Gansey pulled back, he gazed at Laurent as though he were the most perfect, desirable, lovable thing in the world.

"... Shall we go back to the tower?" he asked, voice soft velvet.

Utterly trusting and pliant, Laurent kept his eyes on Gansey. He pressed against his partner as Gansey's hands caressed his back and his cheek. The gentle, reverent touch made it easy to trust, and Laurent let his hands settle on Gansey's shoulders to keep him close. He felt nervous in surrendering the reins, having not simply trusted to anyone else's guidance in years.

Curling a hand around Gansey's neck as they kissed, Laurent let Gansey lead it. He followed each cue, returning Gansey's sweetness and love with everything he had to give. It was terrifying, and he felt as though he was falling, but he trusted absolutely that Gansey would catch him.

Speechless, Laurent nodded as the kiss broke. His cheeks were flushed, all thoughts and sense driven from his head but his devotion to Gansey. The prospect of being alone with him was irresistible, but even aside from that, in this moment Laurent wanted nothing more than to follow Gansey's lead to the ends of the world.

The nod made Gansey smile, eyes catching light and sparkling against the backdrop of shadow and flowers. Closing the distance between them again, Gansey pressed an adoring kiss to Laurent's forehead as he dropped his hand so that they might entwine their fingers together. Shy and reserved before, now he seemed to be completely steady and comfortable, more than willing to catch Laurent should he ever fall.

"Then let's go," he smiled, attention dropping down to the locket glinting against Laurent's shirt before back up to his fiance's comely face. Gansey had no problem leading the way. It wasn't far. A short walk back through the gardens, around the castle so that they didn't have to walk through the hallways and chance meeting someone that would want to hold them for some conversation.

The nice thing about the tower was that it was close to one of the castle entrances. It wasn't long before Gansey was opening the door and climbing the stairs, glancing back at Laurent, like he was leading Eurydice to sunlight. But Laurent did not vanish into the dark. He was real, he was warm, and Gansey wanted him in his arms more than ever.

Quietly, he closed the door behind them once they reached his room. Everything was as they left it. With a gentle hand, Gansey reached out to brush his fingers along the line of Laurent's jaw.

"I love you, Laurent."

Laurent pressed against his side as they moved through the gardens. His mind felt calm and quiet. All his worries and plans had gone quiet, and he yielded entirely, trusting that Gansey could handle and deflect any interaction that they might encounter.

Safe within the sanctuary of Gansey's room, Laurent hugged close to him, nuzzling at the side of Gansey's neck. His beloved was warm, solid, safe, and Laurent felt utterly addicted to him, terrified of the prospect that he might ever have to draw away.

He didn't respond, not feeling like he needed to. Gansey knew, even when Laurent couldn't put it into words, and there were dozens of repetitions of the phrase tucked into hiding spots around Gansey's room.

Shy and gentle as a wild fawn, Laurent rested his head against Gansey's, listening to his lover's breath, feeling his lover's heart thudding against his own. He felt drunk with the sensation of trust, and the terrifying pleasure of yielding.

No, love did not need to be spoken. Gansey could feel it; hidden in the heat of Laurent's body against his own, caressing him along with the smooth slope of Laurent's cheek, in the way he gently yielded to touch.

Rather than ask Laurent where he might want to take things, Gansey guided his lover along. He felt more certain than he ever had before as he drew Laurent to the bed, still messily unmade from their earlier trysts. The scent of sweat and sex still lingered. Earlier he had felt rushed, clumsy, eager to admire Laurent physically. Now, he felt slow. Deliberate. Every sense so wholly focused on his fiancee, ribbed with affection and devotion.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, the prince drew Laurent down with him, shadows playing across the floor until the pale light of the moon broke their marks. Even without the light of a candle Gansey's mouth found his fiance's easily. Head tilted, he pressed his lips against Laurent's again, parting them just enough to keep the kiss from being chaste. Flicking his tongue up against Laurent's upper lip playfully, he made to deepen their kiss while he gently pushed his lover onto his back with one hand on the other side of him, digging into the mattress, head bowed as their tongues and lips met.

His thoughts did not stray. So rarely were those anxieties, the chanting of gears running in the background of his thoughts, quiet. It was like Laurent was a chapel, somewhere Gansey could come home to and admire the silence. All he could think about was how Laurent's breath sounded and the beating of his lover's heart, the texture of his hair, and his scent.

Reverent with love and trust, Laurent returned each kiss, following Gansey's lead and opening to him gladly. He sought nothing, and didn't push or tease. This moment was the closest thing to sacred that he'd ever felt, and he gave over more and more control to Gansey, letting him break each kiss and initiate the next, and Laurent was always ready, meeting him with lips and arms and a fathomless depth of love.

His hands slid up under Gansey's shirt, yearning for as much contact as he could get. Palms flat against Gansey's back, Laurent could feel the way his ribs expanded with each breath, the way his muscles shifted beneath the skin, and the radiating thud of his beating heart.

Parting his legs so that Gansey could fit between them, Laurent tangled himself around his beloved, chest to chest as close as they could get as they kissed. He wanted nothing but this for the rest of his life. Though he could feel his pulse thrumming in his cock, restrained by the tight breeches, Laurent was in no hurry. He was more than happy to linger in this kiss for hours.

When Laurent parted his legs Gansey slid between them, taking the opportunity to be closer and delighting in it. The pressure of hands along his back almost made him tremble; so warm, so soothing. He wanted to melt into those hands. No other hands would ever make him feel so thoroughly alive, so like a man drunk on love.

Ignoring the aches of his body was easy when kissing was so wondrous. Had kissing always felt so perfect? No—this was the first time he felt that he could simply kiss and kiss until his lips were raw and throat sore. Over and over again he kissed his lover, lingering in every little kiss and every deeper one. Gansey could feel his heart thudding heavily in his chest, his pulse pitching upward with every roll of tongue, from the taste of Laurent thick on his tongue.

Eventually his hands began to wander. Sliding them up underneath Laurent's shirt, Gansey skirted the delicate skin just above the waistband of the other man's trousers before flattening his palms, sliding them up along the dip of his lover's waist. Thumbs brushing down against ribs, nails tracing along whatever contours they could find. Gansey wanted to truly relish—adore—every inch of skin he could reach. So in spite of his hardening cock he continued to caress, eventually breaking the kiss to push Laurent's shirt up and help him pull it over his head, dropping it to the side once it was gone.

Gazing heavily at the other man, Gansey smiled like he was seeing the loveliest thing in the world (which he was), the small dimple crinkling just below his eye once more.

Laurent arched his back gladly, then ducked his head so that the two of them could get his shirt off of him. His belly fluttered with each soft gasp, chest pulsing with heart and breath. Nipples hard and pink against the pale expanse of his torso, he watched Gansey with flushed cheeks and a shy, devoted smile.

"Gansey," he said, the closest thing to a prayer that had ever crossed his lips. He reached for his lover again, pushing the shirt up under Gansey's arms and tugging it off. His eyes skimmed over Gansey's bare chest, dazed with love and trust and yearning.

Cool air kissed at warmed skin once his shirt was gone, giving him an inkling as to just how charged up Laurent had made him. Gods above, that was the cutest smile Gansey had ever seen. It made that warmth spread through his rib cage, seeping through his limbs to the tips of his fingers. Butterflies—there were butterflies, dizzy butterflies, in the pit of his belly. What a precious, wonderful man. There was no part of him that Gansey did not cherish.

Bowing his head once more, Gansey nuzzled his face into the crook of Laurent's neck, kissing along shoulder before he settled his mouth at the base of the other man's neck, where he could feel his pulse strongest. Biting gently, Gansey tugged and sucked on the spot as his hands wandered again, more eager to explore without the shirt in the way. The freedom was exhilarating.

They were drawn up Laurent's chest to those pert nipples; rolling the pads of his thumbs over each, he teased by rubbing before lightly pinching them between thumb and index finger. They fascinated him, as every inch of Laurent did.

Laurent's smile and blush deepened at the way that Gansey looked at him, as if he was the most precious being in the world.

Gasping softly as Gansey's head dipped, teeth scraping the skin, Laurent gave a tiny, sweet moan. His hands slid fast up Gansey's back, winding into Gansey's hair as his mood took a sharp turn for the erotic. "Gans--" he gasped, the last syllable lost in a stifled little cry as Gansey's fingers found his nipples.

He arched, grip tightening in Gansey's hair, and moan was loud as Gansey locked onto his throat. This time, he held nothing back, allowing himself to vocalize his pleasure as Gansey wrung sighs and whimpers from him.

Every sigh and whimper from his lover sent a charge through Gansey's body. Better than any hymn or prayer, Gansey groaned in response, eyelids fluttering in ecstasy at the sensation of hands gripping through his thick hair. Scraping his teeth across Laurent's collarbone, peppering kisses along lovely blossoming red marks, there wasn't a spot he left untouched. This was what he wanted—wanted to love Laurent, for the other man to hold nothing back, for him to feel the depth of Gansey's affection to his very core.

Sliding down, easing back onto his knees, Gansey's mouth found one of Laurent's nipples. Sucking again, rolling his tongue, rubbing the flat against the hardened peak before biting down. Selfishly leaving marks that he'd been there. Hands freed by his mouth taking over the job of teasing Laurent's nipples, they wandered down until they found the waist of Laurent's breeches. With steady fingers he unlaced them, feeling, caressing smooth abdomen once he'd worked them open.

It felt so strange to think that just a week ago, this man wasn't in his arms. So wrong. For with Laurent, he felt complete. Like he could be the best version of himself. Could be real.

Sliding palms down his lover's hips, Gansey pushed those beeches down. Not all the way—just over the middle of his thighs, so that they wouldn't have to part yet.

Laurent's sighs and moans came easier after the first few, no longer choked back or stifled behind his teeth. Gansey's positive reinforcement worked fast--each sigh or moan was rewarded with another bite or lick, which only wrought forth more gasps of pleasure.

Dizzy with joy, Laurent lifted his hips when Gansey tugged at his pants. The vulnerability of being exposed only dipped him further into his sense of trust for Gansey.

The locket on his chest glinted gold against his pale skin. He'd never for a moment considered taking it off with his shirt, and never planned to take it off ever again, except when bathing. It felt warm against his skin, a promise from his beloved.

"Gansey," he murmured. He watched his lover's eyes, just slightly hesitant at his vulnerability but willing to obey and trust Gansey's guidance. Anywhere Gansey led, he would go.

At his name, Gansey glanced up at his lover. Their eyes met and he smiled, leaning up again so that he could meet their mouths in another deep kiss. It was a sentiment he could feel—like the red string of fate between them, a bond of trust, something that gently tied them together. Laurent trusted him and Gansey would never betray that trust.

Taking hold of his lover's erection, the young heir began to stroke him, working the length against his palms and fingers. Slow at first. No need to rush—Gansey wanted to feel everything. Delight in every sensation. Memorize what got a gasp, what dragged out a moan. Become more familiar with Laurent than anything else.

Upon breaking the kiss he whispered, "Laurent," voice deep and rich, warm and smooth, against his beloved's lips.

Grabbing onto him as they kissed, he tangled his fingers possessively into Gansey's hair. He kissed hungrily, tongue tangling with Gansey's. He wanted to give everything of himself, wanted to be utterly claimed and remade by Gansey, for Gansey. Whimpering with longing into Gansey's mouth, Laurent let go of him reluctantly, though his grin was pure pleasure as they met each other's eyes.

"Want to see you," he murmured, running his hand down Gansey's back and stopping just under the hem of his pants. "Feel you. Please?" The plea was soft, the closest to begging Laurent had done in his life.

Radiating trust and love, Laurent nuzzled at him, stealing a nip from Gansey's throat before he let go enough for Gansey to fulfill his request.

Gansey made a soft mm from his throat when Laurent tangled his hands in his hair. Amazing. Spectacular. He could think of a thousand words—were he not so utterly distracted by his fiance.

"Of course," he murmured, nuzzling back against the side of Laurent's head and pressing a kiss to his ear. It was a plea he was more than happy to oblige. Through their kissing and touching his breeches had begun to feel tight. Keeping one hand on Laurent's erection, Gansey removed the other to pull at the fastenings. Less graceful than when he'd removed his lover's but it didn't matter.

Using the back of his hand and wrist, Gansey pushed them off, allowed them to slide down his legs and hang loose just above his knees. His arousal was obvious from the moment his pants were gone. Smiling, he tilted his head so that he could press another kiss to Laurent's fantastic, amazing lips.

"Good?"

"Until you get tangled in your pants and fall off the bed," Laurent teased, tracing Gansey's nose with his own. His hand slid the rest of the way down, cupping around Gansey's ass for a moment and then coming around to the front to give him a brief, teasing stroke. "Please?"

He nipped softly at Gansey's lower lip, utterly enamored with the sight of Gansey above him, happy and eager. Letting him go again for a moment, Laurent helped squirm out of his own breeches, kicking them off and then laying back again, legs slightly bent and slightly parted, full of invitation but still shy.

"I'd take you with me," he groaned, closing his eyes when Laurent gave him that teasing tug. But his fiance was right. Last thing they needed was for Gansey to end up on the floor, ass up in the air, because he couldn't be bothered to take off his pants.

Leaning up, Gansey followed suit, kicking off his pants until they were completely removed. Once they were both rid of the distraction of pants Gansey glanced back to his lover. God above, he was beautiful. It wasn't the first time Gansey was seeing his fiance nude but—it almost felt like it was. So unguarded and trusting. Shy yet wanting. Gansey was more attracted to that shy, wanting quality than he realized.

In quiet appreciation, the young prince slid his hands down Laurent's thighs and squeezed, turning so that he could press a kiss to his lover's knee. "You're wonderful," he exhaled, easing himself between Laurent's legs again so that he could hover above his beloved.

"I really want to make you mine."

"I am," Laurent said, soft and sweet but with a hint of duh to it. Gansey's thighs were warm between his own. It felt good to have him there, even if there was still a nervous thrill in his belly at being so exposed.

"Anything you want," he promised, eyes low-lidded with pleasure and promise. He tipped his head up, licking sweetly at Gansey's lips and drawing away with a smile. Spread out beneath Gansey like a gift, Laurent felt warm with trust. He belonged utterly to Gansey, and he knew absolutely that Gansey would never let him feel anything but pleasure. The resulting feeling of trust and affection was heady. "The answer is yes."

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