Fools in Love, for gentry

[prince_of_vere]

[From here.]

"You're sensitive everywhere," Laurent teased, demonstrating by tickling his fingers along Gansey's sides. He grinned shamelessly down at him, relenting quickly enough because he couldn't hold out any longer without kissing him.

"Gansey," Laurent murmured against his lips, soft, brief kisses that he couldn't quite pull away from, kiss after kiss.

Utterly infatuated, Laurent gave him a hopelessly adoring smile as he finally lifted his head, bending to press a reverent kiss to Gansey's collarbone. "I've never... I've never been like this. With anyone. My heart aches constantly with longing for you, even when I'm already in your arms."

Comments

[prince_of_vere]

"Everyone's weak to me," Laurent flirted in return, kissing the spot--still damp--behind Gansey's ear. "While I have only one weakness."

Laurent gladly took a seat at the table, effusively admiring the array of pastries and little sandwiches set up along with the beautifully painted tea set. He then took Helen onto a tangent discussing different styles of porcelain painting for a full twelve minutes, both of them happily chattering about historic and modern porcelain technology and fashion, and almost entirely ignoring Gansey.

[gentry]

It was the longest twelve minutes of Gansey's life. The young heir had no interest in porcelain or fashion, so he nodded along, resting his hand on Laurent's thigh about half way through the conversation. In this, he was fine being ignored—there was nothing he wanted to add to this conversation.

Eventually Helen gave her brother a smile before turning her attention back to Laurent, "So what is it that my charming soon to be brother-in-law and his hopeless fiance want to talk about, really? Much as I love talking about fashion."

Gansey gave her a smile in return. "Well, you see, Helen," he began, giving Laurent's leg an affectionate squeeze, "Laurent doesn't like my tower room. Isn't that right, dear?"

[prince_of_vere]

Laurent grimaced with horror, then tempered it into a pained smile. He tilted his head toward Gansey, soothing and apologetic. "It isn't that I don't like it." Another barely-contained grimace. "It's a very nice... sort of workshop for you." He laid his hand over Gansey's on the table, toying with the fingers as if searching for words about how to let his lover down gently. "But it simply isn't the sort of place where civilized people abide."

He let go of Gansey's hand, looking away as though they'd been having a bit of a lovers' spat on the topic. "We can't seem to come to an agreement. I liked the rooms on the South wing, but Gansey won't have it since he says they have a draft in the winter. He likes the rooms on the third floor, East wing, but I won't endure it because they look like the sort of place you'd house disliked third cousins, not the heir to the kingdom."

Laurent wrinkled his nose. "I wanted to ask your advice on the topic. I simply don't know enough about the customs and environs of the Raven Kingdom to have a good sense of what is suitable, and Gansey..." Laurent cast his fiance a fond but long-suffering glance. "I knew you'd have the sense to recommend something perfect, Helen. Please help us."