marlowemuses | Fools in Love, for gentry

"The prince," Laurent said, basking in every kiss, every touch. He tilted his head to make it easier for Gansey to fasten the collar, and he made a sigh of contentment when it was in place. "From the old story. Hundreds of knights and kings died amidst the sword-like thorns, but for the prince, the true love, all the points bent away from him, leaving him unscathed and free to claim his prize."

Laurent's bristle of sharp temper and sharper tongue had kept away an array of suitors, and kept even his most trusted guards and family at arm's length. Gansey had walked into his heart as though the thorns weren't even there.

The leather on his throat felt warm, and having it there made him feel fulfilled. His mind felt submerged in pleasure and trust, and he gave into it, letting his clever, sharp mind go quiet so that nothing remained but his focus on Gansey.

Being called the true love made Gansey smile again as he brushed his hands across the collar, pressing kiss after kiss against Laurent's throat, worshiping both leather and neck.

"I think," he said softly, "that I would rather be the gardener. The man that nurtures the rose. Keeps it safe during heavy storms and prunes away the leaves that deny it sunlight. The man that gives the rose everything it needs to bloom."

He slid his hands down, easing them into the gaps between Laurent's arms and sides so that he could fondle his lover's nipples, pinching them with the tips of his fingers, rolling his thumb over hard pebbles.

Rolling his hips, he nestled his cock between Laurent's legs, pushing up against his upper thighs and ass.

"I disagree," Laurent said, gasping softly as Gansey touched his nipples. He rocked his hips back against Gansey's, making a soft whining noise to ask for more. "The rose can never truly love the gardener. It may flourish, and bloom, but it can never truly touch its gardener. If I were a rose and you the gardener, I would wish nothing more than to become human, so that I could kiss you. Better to be a prince, and you my true love."

He smiled with pleasure, letting his head drop forward as he offered more of his throat to Gansey, relaxing into his lover's control.

"Can't I be both?" Arms tight around Laurent, he traced kisses down along his neck and shoulder. "The prince with a green thumb?" It seemed like a fair compromise. So they could love and delight in one another—he wanted to always keep Laurent safe, and to always love him.

Leaning back, he lined his cock up against his lover so that he could slowly begin to push himself in. A soft breath, and he teased Laurent's with the head of his cock, inching forward until he was completely inside.

Gripping the other man's hips, Gansey sighed, a crease forming in his brow. Laurent felt incredible.

Laurent gasped softly, a full-body shiver going through him as Gansey entered him. "Anything," he promised, forgetting any playful or teasing argument he might have been able to make. "Anything you wish." As long as he belonged to Gansey, as long as he could bask in Gansey's love and kindness. "Oh!" he cried out, as Gansey's hips pressed tight against his own, sealed together and as close as they could be. "Gansey," he mewled, overwhelmed with pleasure and affection. "Gansey."

There wasn't a long gap between when he pushed his hips against Laurent and when he was rolling them again, starting with long, teasing thrusts.

"Just like that," he murmured, voice rough with arousal, "let me hear you. More."

Keeping a firm grip on Laurent, Gansey rocked into him, built up a quick rhythm that melded into shorter, harder thrusts. Looking for the spot that Laurent liked so much, he closed his eyes and focused on the heat between them.

Laurent obeyed, because, with Gansey, he could do nothing else. With Gansey, he was whole, loved, safe, joyous. "Gansey!" he cried, louder, gasping sharp and then moaning low and long, breath rolling through his throat in a lingering, reverberent sigh. He squirmed his hips back, using his legs to push himself up and tightening his lower back to keep his hips at just the right angle, so that when Gansey slid in, again and again, Laurent trembled with it. It was easy to lose himself, so easy, with that spot already sensitive, already swollen, and the all-encompassing knowledge that he was safe with Gansey, and he could just let go and float in the pleasure. "Gansey," he gasped again, fingers clutching at papers, mussing and wrinkling them, smudging the ink with sweaty palms. "Gansey."

Gansey trembled as well, the knot in his belly pulling tight and muscles singing, sweat clinging to his forehead and back. His breaths were heavy, turned into pants as he continued to rut, grinding into Laurent and digging his nails into the tops of his thighs. The desk creaked under their weight, a delightful sound paired with gasps and sighs.

"You're mine," he very nearly growled, jerking Laurent's hips back possessively. It was dizzying; he was high on love and Laurent. Holding out until after Laurent came three times wasn't going to be possible, he didn't think—though he would keep his promise of only coming once, and making his lover come thrice. They had all night.

The sweet, numb sensation crept up on him, and he bowed his head. Not allowing himself to miss a second, he continued to drive into his lover.

Crying out Gansey's name again and again, awash in pleasure, Laurent gripped tight to the desk, holding onto the edge as Gansey's thrusts grew harder. His nails dug into the wood, feeling the ecstasy build until it overtook him. Trembling as he spilled himself, dazed with the intensity of yet another deep orgasm, cock untouched, he bucked beneath Gansey, making gasping little cries of pleasure as Gansey pounded him through it.

Gansey kept his grip tight when Laurent buckled, keeping him secure as he rode him through his climax—and swiftly hit his own. Coming, spilling into Laurent as he thrust, the slick noise of his strokes enhanced as his seed dripped down the back of the other man's thighs. It was an intense sensation; probably the strongest orgasm he'd ever had, since he'd never denied himself before.

Gasping, he kept moving, rocking into Laurent and riding through the waves of euphoria. At the very least he would exhaust them both, so that they were blitzed out on pleasure.

"Laurent," he groaned, leaning heavily against his lover.

"Oh," Laurent said, surprised and impressed as Gansey kept moving inside of him, even as Laurent could feel the heat of his seed spilling from his hole, making slick sounds as Gansey took him. He was overwhelmed with pleasure, a little too intense but utterly addictive. "Gansey," he whimpered, forgetting any other word, anything but this moment, and the exquisite trust and vulnerability he felt. He let his head rest on his arms, making tiny keening noises of overwhelming pleasure. "Gansey."

Exhaling, he could feel his surge of adrenaline running down, afterglow gripping his senses and leaving him shaking. Once he couldn't ride out his orgasm any longer he relaxed his chest against Laurent's back, leaving a trail of wet, warm kisses from one shoulder to the other.

And he slid his arms around Laurent's waist once more, tucking his forehead against the back of the other man's neck as he gave in to bliss.

"You're everything I've ever wanted. And I never want to let you go."

"I love you," Laurent murmured in return, devastated with pleasure. "I will never love anyone else."

He smiled, relaxing and enjoying the afterglow, enjoying most of all the warm weight of Gansey above him, arms around his waist and head tucked against his neck, where the leather collar embraced his neck like a promise. "I love you."

"I'll never tire of hearing you say that."

Gansey rubbed his face against Laurent's back, not wanting to part just yet, even though the desk wasn't the most comfortable place to cuddle. It also wasn't the best position to kiss in, and he longed to kiss Laurent again. Over and over. Until his lips were red and raw.

So with a soft noise he pulled out of his lover, "Come with me." Heading to the bed, Gansey dropped down onto it, arms open and waiting for Laurent.

Laurent went with him, wobbling on unsteady legs. He curled gladly into Gansey's arms, craving Gansey's warmth and affection. "My Gansey," he murmured, nuzzling dazedly at him. He felt sticky and gross, but he wanted affection and reassurance first, so that he could bask in Gansey's love as he recovered.

Oh, they were so terribly sticky and gross. It would make him laugh if he weren't so busy delighting in the weight of his lover on him and afterglow. He peppered Laurent's face with light kisses, pressing his lips to the tip of his nose, over his eyes, along his cheeks and jaw.

"We made a bit of a mess," he chuckled, finally, stretching out and lazing in the sweet warmth of what they'd done. "We're going to have to move soon, if we keep this up. I'm not looking forward to those stairs."

Laurent whined softly at the prospect of moving. "Your fault," he insisted, "for not planning ahead for kinky sex frenzies with your fiance."

Smiling fondly, Laurent snuggled with him, sighing with contentment. "We'll have to talk to Helen tomorrow. You can blame everything on me, and my delicate Veretian temperament."

Gansey rubbed his hand in circles on Laurent's back, closing his eyes and sighing as well.

"Oh, yes. I can see how that conversation is going to go." Clearing his throat, he began with a smirk pulling at his lips, "Dearest Helen, can we please have the rooms you've been having constructed as a wedding present? You see, Laurent demanded we move, after two days of kinky sex frenzies that left us an absolute mess, into rooms with a bathroom in which to clean up after. He imagines it's something we'll be doing quite a bit, after all. My fault for not being prepared for such labor intensive activities. What do you say?"

Laurent laughed, delighted by Gansey's version. He nuzzled at Gansey's throat, nipping once. "That all sounds about right. How can she argue?"

Latching on to the skin of Gansey's throat, Laurent sucked hard on it, determined to leave a mark, even though they both already looked like they'd been throttled.

"You can just say that your delicate, fastidious, Veretian fiance wants rooms with an in-suite bathroom to cater to his need for privacy and hygiene." Smiling, Laurent kissed Gansey's chin.

The attention to his throat rewarded Laurent with a soft noise, something between a groan and a sigh. Gansey didn't mind looking even more throttled if it meant Laurent would keep biting him like that.

"She'll probably agree," he said, slowly, "since she wouldn't be spending much time there anyway. She's here now, but since she got married she's expected to spend most of her time in her husband's court." After pressing a short kiss against Laurent's forehead, he continued, "However, we'll probably have to wait. Technically, we aren't supposed to be living together yet. Old fashioned rules. Mostly to keep women from getting pregnant before they're supposed to be, but they hold across every marriage."

Resting his head back on the pillow, he offered a boyish grin. "Either we speed up the wedding, or we sneak around between our rooms. Unless, of course, you'd like a few nights alone before you're stuck with me?"

"Lots of sneaking around," Laurent said, grinning. "I'm not letting any manner of social courtesies pull you from my side for more than an hour at a time. They can throw me in the dungeons if they must."

Smirking, Laurent nuzzled at him. "Leave the wedding to your mother. It's important that it be scheduled for best social and political impact. We can be patient. I should probably actually be spotted in my rooms, anyway. We can switch off every other day. My rooms have at least a small bathing chamber. And no stairs."

"If they throw you in the dungeons, they'll have to throw me in there as well," Gansey chuckled, "because I won't be parted from you either." It was one thing if Laurent decided that he needed some space. If they were perfectly happy shacking up together, then the rest of the castle hardly mattered to him. There was zero chance of pre-wedding babies happening between them.

"You're right," he agreed, relishing the thought of no stairs. He may have been able to play the gallant prince last night but there was no chance of that happening again tonight. "So, tomorrow we'll stay in your rooms, then?" Adding with a grin, "Does that mean I'll get to try on something of yours?"

Laurent laughed. "You know, I do have a very nice gown that might fit you," he said, eyes sparkling with mirth. "Your shoulders are a bit broad for any of my tunics, however."

Nodding, he sighed and sat up. "Tomorrow, my rooms. Tonight--we should at least get a wet cloth so that my skin doesn't get irritated. Since we're evidently going to keep doing this as frequently as possible."

Gansey grunted in agreement as he sat up as well, hair standing at odd angles. Blinking, he scrubbed his hands through the mess, which resulted in wisps of hair settling across his forehead.

"I'll call for some soap and towels," he yawned as he stretched his arms over his head lazily. "They won't think anything of it. I do most of my own cleaning up here." Glancing at the areas they'd been in the room, he bit back a laugh.

"Which, actually, may be true as well. We made a mess of more than just ourselves."

It wasn't a lot, but there reminders of their love, droplets on the floor and down the side of his desk that he hadn't noticed in the heat of the moment.

Biting at his lower lip, Laurent grinned, amused by the devastation. "I'll help you. Once the room stops spinning."

He crossed his legs, resting his arms on his knees and trying to recover. Warm with satisfaction, he shot Gansey a grin. "Soap and towels would be a good place to start. Might want to make sure you take that collar off before you interact with the servants, though."

Edited 2016-10-25 21:06 (UTC)

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