marlowemuses | Fools in Love, for gentry

Henry waved his hand back and forth excitedly, as though begging to be chosen. Gansey leaned into the kiss and then turned his head to plant one against Laurent's forehead. He had no problems showing his fiance affection in front of the men; in fact, it would keep them extra civil, he knew, if they were well aware of Gansey's feelings toward the man. ( And a third added benefit, that none of them would get the idea that they might have a chance with the prince. )

Gansey laughed lightly, "Well, I do still need to see if you can be beaten. So may as well make Henry's day. Do me a favor and put him on his ass?" Henry wrinkled his nose, seeing as Gansey didn't even bother to whisper that, but bounced from one foot to the other in anticipation.

With that, Gansey took a step back, giving the men who had decided to peek in on what was happening a friendly nod.

Henry smoothed his hair back and then assumed his position, sword raised as though he might be fencing, other arm raised behind him dramatically. "Whenever you're ready, fiance-Laurent!"

"I hope you'll go easy on me," Laurent said to Henry, with a little grin. He knew perfectly well how he looked: soft. Spoiled. A nobleman who thought he knew a little fencing. In addition to which, he had no idea how skilled Henry was. Laurent knew he could beat any man in Vere--save one--but how Veretian sword skills compared to the Raven Kingdom, or how those compared to any foreign tutelage Henry might have... Laurent had no way to know.

He raised his own sword, posture elegant. He looked the part of a prince from a storybook, beautiful and noble, but easily trounced by any seasoned soldier.

Shooting a grin at his opponent, Laurent advanced, feeling him out. His forays were easy at first, playful, learning how Henry moved and how to counter it. He didn't want to draw blood, and he knew that Henry wouldn't dare, which slowed the fight, at least until Laurent had seen how fast Henry could move.

Gaining in confidence once he was more sure of Henry's skill, Laurent relaxed, playing and showing off as he fought. They circled, taking up space and making use of the obstacles at the edges of the arena--since neither wanted to draw blood, tripping an opponent over a hay bale would be an easy way to win.

Laurent was highly adaptive, and as he figured out that neither of them would draw blood, he started making use of that, knowing that he could make gambles that he wouldn't make in any normal fight. Without their treaty in place, drawing blood from a foreign prince, even in a play fight, could mean an act of war. Laurent held himself to the same standard, and would forfeit at once if he miscalculated and drew a drop from Henry. More so, because Laurent would not allow the risk of war, even as he chanced it through his playful gambles.

Men scrambled aside as the two of them moved into the more cluttered space near the barracks, where there were hay bales and tack underfoot. Laurent dodged back from an attack that might have disarmed him, mounting up a stack of hay bales in his retreat and swinging onto the low gabled roof over the door to the barracks. He flashed a grin, challenging Henry to follow.

Henry grinned, clearly having quite a bit of fun, meeting the beginning easy forays with an equal amount of playfulness. It wouldn't be difficult to puzzle out that Henry was not a hard hitter; he relied on his speed mostly, paired with cleverness. Like a sting. Were he anything, he would be a bee, moving back and forth haphazardly and striking when he thought he saw a weak spot.

Showing off, at that, was something Henry could appreciate. He did the same, angling more for the show rather than earnestly trying to end the fight quickly. Where was the fun in that? Not to mention, Gansey was watching Laurent with delight, thoroughly enjoying the show. Would they end so quickly and disappoint the prince? Henry didn't think so.

There were plenty of obstacles in the area for them to use. Henry had the same idea; no, there would be no blood, no need for accidental war or scarring one of their handsome selves. While his skills would be less effective in a clunkier area like the one Laurent led him to, he wasn't about to peel off. He grinned back and followed without a second thought, The men below cheered and Gansey watched, unblinking, as his friend and fiance met swords.

Henry swung into the roof as well, patting the flats of his feet down against it before flashing another smile. "You're quite good!" he said happily, dancing as he took another strike. While fighting on a roof could lead to serious injury, this was low enough and surrounded by hay bales that Henry wasn't incredibly concerned.

"You're not half bad yourself," Laurent said. When Henry followed him up, Laurent had a strong advantage for a moment, with higher ground and stable footing while Henry was still mounting up. He pushed the advantage hard, pushing forward and striking Henry's sword to the side, unbalancing him and forcing him to either drop his sword or fall. It was a gamble and a slightly underhanded move, but Laurent was counting on it to work in his favor.

Any normal person would drop their sword rather than fall, and Laurent trusted to that, swinging his other arm forward so that he would catch Henry's wrist. If Henry kept his sword, he'd fall onto the bales and probably suffer no serious injury, and Laurent would be clearly seen to be un-sporting in his ambition to win. If, as Laurent was gambling, Henry dropped his sword, Laurent would win and catch him, clearly framing him as a winner and hero. It was exactly the sort of risk that Laurent couldn't resist.

As dramatic as a fall would be, no doubt it would ruin his hair. Which was simply unacceptable. So Henry let his sword fall (though not without a dramatic flourish). Some of the crowd below gasp, some whooped, and Gansey was wearing a slight smirk as he saw the flash of silver land in the bale below.

Henry let out a breath when his wrist was caught, his position still precarious as he stood unsteadily on the roof. "Whew! You got me, you got me. Excellent play, old bean! Don't let me go, now. My hair would never survive the hay."

Evidently, a slightly underhanded move didn't bother Henry. Really, had he the chance, he probably would have done the same.

"I think we have a winner!" one of the men cheered from below, and several other stepped closer. There was scattered applause. One of the men retrieved Henry's sword.

Laurent tugged Henry up and made sure he had steady footing before he let go of him. Dropping to the ground by his side, Laurent grinned, enjoying the cheers and appreciation for their little performance.

Returning immediately to Gansey's side, Laurent claimed his kiss for victory, sliding his arm around Gansey's waist. He was flush with triumph, thrilled to have had a challenge and a game. And, best of all, to be able to return to Gansey's side at the end, safe in Gansey's affection. "Still want to challenge me?" he teased, sneaking a pinch to Gansey's ass to make him blush.

Henry gave a bow before hopping off the roof behind Laurent, going to the guard that had grabbed his sword for him. Spirit seemed to be high, and several of the men went back to training as scheduled, others taking their breaks and wiping down with rags.

Laurent was awarded his kiss for victory quite happily, with Gansey threading his fingers through golden hair all the while. What a challenge and a game it had been! Gansey was pleased to see that Laurent looked so happy, and may have commented on how his fiance seemed to glow when besting other men, except for the fact that he was very distracted when Laurent pinched his ass. It was very different when it was someone you were attracted to doing the pinching.

Indeed he blushed, turning away from the guards lest they see his colored ears or cheeks, making to steal a kiss before he answered.

"Only if you promise to go easy on me," Gansey murmured, a chuckle with his words. "I'm not sure I can hop on that roof quite so deftly."

"I think you could," Laurent said, releasing him and taking up his sword again. He picked it up in the left hand this time, to give himself the balanced exercise and skill. It would level the playing field between them a little, if Gansey's protestations of his skill were to be believed, and it would give Gansey a challenge he might not usually have.

Giving his fiance a grin, Laurent flicked his sword to tap Gansey's, playful as ever.

He did go easy on Gansey, searching for Gansey's weaknesses and doing his best to help him improve. It made for pleasant practice, as Laurent believed that there were few things better for sword skills than frequent drilling of the basics, and he was happy to mix that up with a little bit of playful challenge.

Gansey smiled when Laurent tapped their swords together, "We'll see, yes?"

Despite his claims, Gansey was not as bad as he claimed. Rusty? Certainly. But he had been drilled from the age of seven to about fifteen nearly every day. A few years of skipping lessons as often as possible was not enough to kill the reflexes that had been hammered into him. As they practiced together he grew sharper, his footwork by the book, unlike Henry's.

"When I was younger," he said as they met swords, "my tutor used to spank me with the flat of his sword when I messed up. Then he told me I would be lucky if my enemies did the same."

He circled. Having started largely on the defensive, he moved onto being a bit more offensive, taking a few steps forward as he met Laurent's sword.

With a playful smirk he added, "I don't think I'd mind, were you in his shoes."

Laurent couldn't help laughing at that, giving a few feet of ground because of it. "I had no idea your tastes ran in that direction. Is that a request?"

His smirk was just as playful, more than willing to add an extra layer of challenge to their match. If it were a question of which of them would fluster first from sexual innuendoes, Laurent was certain he would win.

His left arm tired quicker, but he refused to switch back, liking the challenge. He was extremely pleased to see that Gansey's skill had such a solid base. He wasn't as creative or unusual in his swordplay as either Henry or Laurent could be, but Laurent was very pleased to know that his beloved wasn't helpless.

No, not helpless, thankfully. Mostly just textbook. Sparring with Laurent would sharpen his skills right back up; that he had no doubt of. Especially if it was something his fiance enjoyed—it seemed to be so. Learning the things Laurent enjoyed delighted him.

The accusation made him laugh. He was much less shy when it came to flirting. Really, it was much more fun flirting with someone he actually had feelings for. Gansey was never much one hunting for the sport of it, like many men and women in the kingdom. Most of his experience had merely been from normal curiosity. Then, it was back to hunting for sleeping kings and sticking his nose in a dusty old journal.

"I have other requests that might take precedence," he admitted freely, sliding back into a more defensive position to switch things up. "And if I were to speak true, my tastes might run the opposite way."

Laurent grinned at that, very intrigued. "I suddenly feel fatigued," he said, all playfulness. "All this excitement. I fear I might need a nap. And further details."

Putting up his sword, he bowed to Gansey, satisfied with only exercise. There was no need to defeat Gansey, though he was confident that he could. Returning his sword, he hooked his arm through Gansey's again, kissing his cheek. "I think we're in need of lunch. And I need to hear more details about these requests of yours."

"Ho. Wore you out, have I?"

Gansey returned the bow with a twinkle in his eye, well aware that Laurent could have bested him had he really wanted to. Maybe one day they could have a serious bout of it. After he'd sharped up his skills, so he didn't look too much like a clumsy scholar that rarely saw the light of day.

"Lunch we can do. As for those details... well, I wouldn't want to distract you from that nap." With a chuckle he pressed his lips to Laurent's temple before turning to pass his sword to one of the guardsmen that had noticed they were finished.

"That's the main tour of the grounds, I'd say. What's left are some of the upper rooms, and the garden. The latter I'll be showing you tonight." Leading Laurent back to the castle and toward the kitchens, he continued, "What might you want for lunch?"

"Something simple," Laurent said, smiling at the kiss to his temple. "And you."

They stopped by the kitchens to pick up a basket of lunch stuffs, and then swung by Laurent's room to retrieve the book that he'd been loaned but hadn't yet had a chance to start. Then he coaxed Gansey to return to his tower room, lounging across his lover's bed as he nibbled on an apple and some cheese. "So what were these requests of yours that might take precedence?" Laurent asked, grinning impishly while he pretended to be focused on the book in front of him.

It was a good time to take a break. The castle had been seen, though it would still take Laurent some time to learn its curious hallways, no doubt. Dinner was being prepared if their stop by the kitchen and how busy things were getting was any indication; after dinner he would show Laurent the gardens and give him the surprise.

For now, Gansey munched on a slice of apple, giving his beloved an amused glance. Gansey was seated on the edge of the bed, one leg pulled up, as he watched the steams of people rushing about the town in the distance. Getting ready for their own dinners, he'd wager.

"Oh?" Gansey did not think Laurent was paying very close attention to that journal, but he would not call him out on it. Yet. "Still curious, little fox?" Eyes glittering with challenge, he leaned so his back was on the bed, and he was gazing up at Laurent.

"Mm... why don't you guess? What sort of thing do you think I might prefer?"

"Spanking, evidently." Laurent teased, setting the book aside and moving to straddle Gansey's lap instead. He took another bite of his apple, then set it aside so that he could focus on getting Gansey's shirt off while he chewed and thought.

"No," he sighed, resting his arms on Gansey's shoulders. "Don't make me guess. I've seen too many things in Vere. I don't have any concept of what would be considered normal here. Do me the favor of telling me plain. It'll make me less nervous about getting it wrong."

It didn't occur to him how much he'd changed in the past two days to be able to ask for plain honesty rather than hiding behind the safety of games and challenges.

Gently, Gansey lifted his hand to place it on top of one of Laurent's, giving him a kindly look. "You don't have to be nervous about anything. Not with me." Looking up, he searched his fiance's face for a moment, rubbing his fingers over the softness of Laurent's skin.

"But I can tell you plain. Mm... let's see." Slowly, he chewed his lip in consideration. "What might I ask for... I quite like being bitten. That you could have guessed easily, I think." A short laugh followed that. "Had we finished what I tried earlier, I would have wanted to swallow," he added thoughtfully, glancing from Laurent's face to the ceiling for a moment.

"Or if not that, for you to finish on me. Something like that." With a soft murmur, Gansey closed his eyes. "My hands are sensitive—I might ask for my fingers to be sucked on. Or an ear. I might ask you to scratch me as hard as you want with your nails, along my back. Preferably while you're in incredibly pleasant throes."

Opening his eyes, his gaze focused on Laurent once more. "Ah. And, I suppose, I might like it if you slapped a collar on me and called me yours. Just for fun, of course." With a short shrug, he finished, "Not that you'd ever have to do anything you dislike."

Laurent smiled as he listened, completely happy and relaxed. He played idly with a strand of Gansey's hair, content. "That all sounds lovely. I might also like to wear a collar for you, but--not... not any time soon. Putting a collar on you sounds much easier to manage."

Warm and lazy with trust, Laurent leaned forward to suck on Gansey's earlobe, as he'd requested, only just enough to make Gansey squirm beneath him for a moment. "May I ride you?" he asked, a grin on his lips. He ground his hips back against Gansey's, in case it wasn't clear what he was asking. "I've been thinking about it all morning."

Happy in his favorite spot--on top of Gansey, like a cat--Laurent reached for his apple and took another bite, grinning and letting the suggestion sink in.

The attention to his earlobe most certainly did make him squirm. The slight scrape of teeth and feeling of breath, the brush of tongue against his lobe, and wet sensation made him press his feet into the bed. Hands wandering, he grabbed Laurent along the side of his legs and pushed up, palms settling on his fiance's bottom and giving a firm squeeze.

Then it was gone and Laurent was asking him a question. Ride—wait, what? He blinked as the image settled in and he flushed, face and throat both, hot under the collar from there mere idea. What a bold fox Laurent could be.

Though, perhaps a cat was more accurate. The contented look, the way he stretched and claimed his territory, and mischievous sparkle that popped up in his eye at flustering Gansey at every turn... very feline.

Clearing his throat after swallowing thickly, "Have you, now? I think that would be, ah... quite nice." To put it in the tamest, politest, most delicate way possible. Biting his lip, Gansey studied Laurent's face.

"I'd like that."

Laurent did love making Gansey squirm and flush. Kissing the tip of his nose, Laurent sat up and moved off of him. He set down his apple, pulled off his shirt, retrieved apple and cheese, and took another bite of each. Happy to multitask, he immediately then started on unfastening Gansey's trousers, stripping them off of him.

"Have you got oil we can use?" he asked, fingers trailing distractingly over Gansey's shaft while he reached for a couple morsels of chicken, popping one in his own mouth and touching the other to Gansey's lips. Teasing was way more fun than letting Gansey answer questions or fulfill requests.

Laurent was truly a fascinating creature. Gansey watched with fascination as Laurent kissed his nose and then shifted, leaving Gansey sitting up just to follow along, though not for long. Shirt stripped, Gansey reclined and admired the shape of his fiance's body—just as lovely as it had been that morning.

When Laurent artfully stripped Gansey of his britches, the prince laughed, a sound that quickly melded into a soft sigh when fingers ghosted over sensitive flesh.

"—Oil." He said the word suddenly, as though it was the first time he'd ever heard it. "Yes, I... yes." He nodded, rubbed his lips together, not eager to get up and retrieve it from his chest. That would mean parting from Laurent. For less than a minute, but that seemed much too long.

Laurent offered him some chicken and he opened his mouth to accept it, catching Laurent's fingers between his lips and sucking them generously. Lolling his tongue and tugging lightly, he only let go once he was content that he'd licked them clean.

"Hold on." Slipping off the bed, he went to his chest and dug through some items before finding the small bottle he kept. It wasn't a thing often used but one never knew. Returning, held it up between his fingers.

"We'll have to encourage the idea that I have a fondness for perfumed bath oils," Laurent said, with a playful smirk. "Which I do. But I expect we'll be going through a lot of perfumed oils for other reasons." He reached out to snag Gansey's wrist, hauling him close and pushing him to sit with his back against the headboard. Satisfied when he had Gansey arranged where he wanted him, Laurent wiggled out of his own trousers, then climbed back into Gansey's lap and straddled him.

"Finger me open," Laurent murmured, stealing a soft, sweet kiss from his lips before shifting his focus to trailing soft kisses along Gansey's throat. He wanted to make sure Gansey had enough available attention span to at least get oil on his fingers before Laurent did anything else to tease and distract him. "Please," he purred, with a sweetly wicked little smirk. He'd learned Gansey well enough that he suspected the additional 'please' would be enough to get an extra bit of flustered blushing, and Laurent loved anything that would make Gansey happy and flustered.

While not totally used to being directed, Gansey had no problems with Laurent moving him to his pleasure. There was still a lot to learn between them; letting Laurent take the lead with what he wanted was a good way to ease into being with each other. The comment about bath oils made his eyebrow arch, but not in any kind of displeasure. In fact, he was pleased—what hot blooded man didn't like to hear that his intended was just as interested in being physical?

Laurent's weight on his lap almost made him groan. It was a bitten back sound from bitten and abused lips. Laurent had a way of making Gansey chew them more than he might otherwise.

As distracting and attractive Laurent was, he kept enough wits to know what he had to do. "With pleasure," he murmured against the slope of Laurent's neck as he leaned in to give a kiss of his own, pulling the cork on the bottle with surprisingly steady hands. It didn't have much of an scent but felt warm to his touch the moment he dripped some onto the fingers of his dominant hand. He was happy and flustered, but not from embarrassment. Not when they were alone, like this. It was from want, desire, and being in love with the fantastic creature straddling him.

Once his fingers felt slick enough, Gansey pushed his hand up between Laurent's legs. Gently at first, in case his fiance might startle as he had that morning. Between his own legs his cock was beginning to twitch, reddening with the sudden change of blood flow. It wasn't anything he focused on because he was much too focused on his intended; he began with one finger, tip of the index, rubbing the pad against Laurent's hole to get him used to the sensation and get him wet both.

It occurred to Gansey that he had not asked Laurent if he was a virgin. It wasn't anything that mattered to him, only that he wondered if Laurent was used to being worked open, or if it was a new experience for him. But rather than ask, Gansey occupied his mouth by biting down into the handsome jut of Laurent's collarbone, scraping his teeth and tongue over fine bone as he worked on easing Laurent open.

Laurent's nails dug into Gansey's shoulders at the touch. A ripple of tension went through his body, breath stilling for a moment.

With a concerted effort, Laurent kissed the join of Gansey's neck and shoulder, then a spot an inch further from there, then again, focusing stubbornly on his task in the hopes that it would make clear that he didn't want to stop, and he didn't want to talk about it.

And yet, aside from the soft kisses, his entire body had gone tense and still, nails still biting into Gansey's shoulders.

He had to believe that Laurent would stop him if it was too much. Among the tension, the stillness, there was also the sense of will and steel. If Laurent did not want him to stop then Gansey would not stop. Even if the soft, worrier in him urged him to slow down and make sure all was well. Nails bit into his shoulders like blunt daggers and, in an odd way, it felt good to have Laurent digging into him. Blood rushed to the spot and it throbbed lightly, giving him a sense of... being alive. Starkly, amazingly so.

It would not help to ask if Laurent as okay or if he thought they should stop. Stubbornness spoke for itself. Rather than that, Gansey tried to aid in the distraction, skimming his lips and appreciating the texture of skin beneath them. Sucking gently and tugging with his teeth, turning his face to rub his cheek against the slope of Laurent's chest, lovely shoulder, anything that caught his attention.

The oil made things fairly easy. Once he'd worked it off of his index finger he switched to rubbing with his ring finger, coaxing Laurent open as he murmured soft words of love into his fiance's neck.

"I'm going to push," he warned, breathing into the crook of Laurent's neck as he eased his finger up. Not forceful, but firm, as he slipped the tip of his finger in to the first, small joint. Increments, gently pushing in so that Laurent could adjust and get used to the feeling. Or, shove him away, if he found it to be too much.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject