marlowemuses | Fools in Love, for gentry

That it felt good for Laurent—that was all he could ask for. When Laurent caught his lips he nodded his chin up eagerly, parting his lips with no hesitation at all. Wet and hot, Gansey deepened the kiss quickly, needed an outlet for all the curled up desires forming butterflies in his chest cavity and tumbling around his belly. Moving his lips, one kiss ended and quickly melded into another one just as deep, with Gansey using his tongue. Rolling it, teasing against Laurent's and flicking up against the roof of the other man's mouth.

While he entertained with kissing he kept working his fingers, pace quickening as Laurent loosened up. Still tight, but in a way that made him almost shiver with anticipation. His whole hand was soon at work, wrist tilting and pushing up to accommodate his busy fingers. Blood pumping, body alive, the curl and thrust of his fingers became quicker and smoother. Only when he felt that it was time did he push in the third finger with the other two and begin the process all over again. As much as possible, Gansey wanted it to be as comfortable and pleasurable as it could be, for Laurent. That was all he wanted to give his fiance—endless amounts of affection and pleasure.

Whatever bad memories Laurent might have, he wanted to ... well. Scars would always remained, but if he could be the salve to ease the ache, he wanted to be. What was between them was good. That he could feel right down to the marrow of his bones.

It didn't matter that his wrist was beginning to ache. It was everything he could want.

When he finally allowed the kiss to break, Gansey swallowed thickly, tasting Laurent heavily on his tongue. "I don't know if I'll ever get enough of you," he admitted, a little breathless.

"Good thing you're marrying me," Laurent teased, his smiles back to their earlier warmth. It was becoming easier and easier to think only of Gansey, to focus on the now and forget his memories.

"Deeper," he begged, winding one hand into Gansey's hair to hold tighter to him. "Curl your fingers a little more."

When he got what he wanted, with Gansey's fingers brushing the sweet spot inside his body, he cried out--very soft--against Gansey's ear, trembling in his arms and nipping feverishly at Gansey's ear and down the side of his throat. "More."

Impatient and greedy for Gansey, now that the shadows of his mind had been dispelled, Laurent reached down, taking the vial of oil and stroking at Gansey in return, spanning the length of him with his fingers and preparing himself for what he was about to do.

Fingers wound into his hair and Gansey gasped, eyelids fluttering as he obeyed Laurent's demands. Deeper, curling his fingers, experimenting with what might feel good and what might best loosen his lover out. It helped immensely that Laurent was no longer so tense. He pushed as far as his fingers could go—fairly far given that his fingers were long and slender, but no doubt not as satisfying as his cock would be.

A soft cry against his ear had him kissing along the shape of Laurent's jaw heatedly, fingers moving with more and more urgency. Greedy and impatient—that reflected how Gansey felt perfectly. Their bodes were so close, so warm, he could feel every one of Laurent's labored breaths and soft noises.

When he felt a hand wrap around his erection he grunted, hips jerking up in automatic response. It was what he'd been craving and ignoring; his stomach knotted and flipped from the attention, goosebumps born from sensation.

"It feels—like you might be ready," he managed to breath out, pushing his fingers in as far as they could go, curling them toward himself and rubbing against Laurent's inner walls. Desperately, Gansey planted another hot kiss under Laurent's jaw, pushing helplessly against Laurent's palm.

"Laurent... I want you so much."

Radiant with pleasure, Laurent pushed Gansey's hand aside. He pressed forward, lining up Gansey's cock so that he could slide right down onto it, taking him in easily. He dropped an inch and gasped, hand tightening sharply in Gansey's hair.

Heart pounding, Laurent froze. His thighs burned with strain to keep himself still in just that spot, but he stayed still as he lifted his other hand, still slick with oil, to curl around Gansey's shoulder.

Trembling the tiniest bit, Laurent stirred his hips, slowly taking a little more at a time.

"Doesn't hurt," he murmured, to disabuse Gansey of any idea that he was hesitating out of pain. Gansey had prepared him very generously, and Laurent's body felt only glowing pleasure.

The terror was all in his mind.

Struggling to focus on Gansey, Laurent kissed him, deep and desperate, trying to drown himself in Gansey's lips.

Gansey's heart was pounding too. Drumming in his chest and then almost stopping when he felt Laurent begin to drop down onto him. A zap shot up his spine, a touch of magic, and he exhaled slowly. It was a touch of ecstasy. A touch of heaven.

With hands freed, he was able to rest his hands on the dips of Laurent's waist, pressing palms against the gentle slope. It was a moment he could drown in. The amazing feeling, having Laurent on top of him, so close and intimate. Laurent assuaged any worries he might have had with the conformation that it didn't hurt, and Gansey nodded, happy to hear it.

Gansey met the kiss with incredible eagerness, thick with desire and longing. It was open-mouthed from the start and Gansey could do nothing but lavish Laurent's mouth with attention. He wanted to taste every inch. Feel every part. Tease that tongue and bite on those plush lips.

The more Laurent took him in, the more he gasped and moaned into their kiss. It was tight but not painfully so; the heat and sensation of being squeezed nearly had him trembling. His hands slid up to rest on Laurent's back, nails scraping up along his shoulderblades and then back down, teasing the curve of spine. It was difficult to keep from thrusting up but he refrained, kept a tight grip on himself, because he wanted Laurent to set their pace.

Sinking all the way down, Laurent paused there. His thighs were pressed tight on either side of Gansey's hips, bodies as close as they could get, and he took kiss after kiss, dizzy and distracted with want.

His hips rocked forward of their own volition, chasing pleasure and sensation as he started to ride Gansey. There was no discomfort, only his own nerves and fear, and that was easily dismissed by Gansey's kisses.

When he wasn't sealed to Gansey's lips, Laurent lifted his head just enough to watch Gansey's eyes, utterly entranced by him. Gansey was his rock, the center of his world. In just two days, Gansey had become more valuable to him than anything else in his life.

Speeding up, Laurent started to ride him in earnest. He sought his own pleasure, picking a pace and angle that was most comfortable for him and watching each of Gansey's reactions like he was starving for them.

"Love you," he murmured, smiling against Gansey's lips.

When he was completely inside his lover, Gansey sucked in a heavy breath, dazzled by how utterly beautiful Laurent looked and how incredible he felt. They were one; bodies close and joined, tangled up in one another, a moment of complete trust. Giving themselves to the other. The light pressure on Laurent's waist became a tighter grip as he shuddered, stealing kiss after kiss in fevered frenzy.

The position didn't lend itself to it terribly well, but Gansey tried to move with Laurent. Less range, but enough shifting and rocking that he found it satisfying enough. Pushing his mouth up against the shape of Laurent's throat and chin and, while his mouth wasn't busy claiming every inch it could, Gansey studied Laurent in return with equal rapt enchantment.

An increase in speed had him reclining, resting his head back against the headboard. There were plenty of reactions for Laurent to devour: biting his lip, eyelids fluttering, adam's apple dipping as he swallowed heavily, cheeks pink, face flushed, a light sheen of sweat forming on his brow, lips parted in an O of a gasp, fingers tensing and relaxing on and off.

Those words had his heart singing. Hands fled from Laurent's waist to slide into lovely blond hair, fisting strands tightly and tugging as he gasped, "Love you... too." So much. It was dizzying and incredible. Could he really be so lucky? Were people allowed two miracles in their lifetime?

Gansey caught Laurent's lips again, hungry. If Laurent's hair was neat earlier, it would no longer be so—he threaded his fingers through, scraped his nails against his lover's scalp, tugged on the roots with need as he sucked on the other man's lips. Gansey wasn't sure how long he would last but it wasn't too heavy on his mind; the knot in his stomach was tugging tight and his skin felt like it was crawling, goosebumps rippling up his back and legs.

Laurent didn't mind as Gansey mussed his tidy hair, one of the few tidy things left about him. He'd shed his high-collared clothing, his icy exterior, and his pristine skin was covered in love-bites and bruises. He'd been remade entirely in love for Gansey, and he'd never been happier.

Tugging Gansey's hands down, though he hated to move them, Laurent guided them to his hips, taking Gansey's help when his thighs began to quiver with exertion. He relished the perfect control, not because he desired control but because it made him feel safe.

Leaving one arm around Gansey's shoulders, Laurent dropped the other one into his lap, touching himself so that he could control exactly when he came. He let his eyes close, basking in the perfect bliss of the moment, and snapping them open only when his thoughts threatened to stray onto any topic that wasn't Gansey.

Shivering once, Laurent quickened his hand, goaded to hurry by the fear that his own thoughts might interrupt his pleasure again. He didn't want to stop. If his fears overcame him, shattering this moment of perfect trust, he'd feel as though he failed. It would be harder to try a second time. Laurent wasn't about to let that happen.

Crying out softly against Gansey's lips, Laurent's grip tightened on him, pressing close as his mind went blank and his body shuddered and tightened in Gansey's lap, painting Gansey's chest with his completion. "Gansey," he whispered, almost a plea, and pressed his face against Gansey's shoulder, beginning to tremble.

It was stunning. Gansey couldn't look away from the magnificent sight before him. Laurent riding him to the point of trembling, a slender hand working against his own cock. Much as Gansey wanted to touch it too he wanted Laurent to have that feeling of safety more. Nails dug into flesh; when he felt Laurent straining, Gansey used the strength of his arms to help his lover along.

Gansey murmured Laurent over and over, heated and affectionate, calling Laurent back to him when it seemed like he might drift. There was nothing else but them. Them, the sound of the bed creaking with their love-making, and heavy breaths and tongues caressing names.

Laurent reached his climax and his chest felt warm, sticky, but Gansey didn't give a damn. In fact, it was a turn on—he gasped out, hips jerking up of their own accord as he reached his own, crashing down heavily on him, a wave of sun seeping through his veins. And Laurent was there, resting against his shoulder.

Gansey's arms slid up in one quick, fluid motion to give Laurent a tight embrace as he turned to brush his lips against his lover's ear. He didn't want to part. Laurent had said that he hadn't liked being touched much but Gansey couldn't help himself; selfishly, he wanted to cling to his lover, to try and offer comfort and support.

"I love you." His voice was steady and calm despite how heavily his chest was rising and falling, breaths never quite feeling like enough. "God, I love you."

Laurent clung gratefully to him, trembling. His breath came in sharp little gasps, almost sobs, as he gulped air. "Gansey," he murmured, like a prayer. "My Gansey."

His grip was tight, refusing to let go of Gansey, his lover, his prince, his everything. His thighs clenched on either side of Gansey's hips, keeping them still now so that Gansey would stay within him.

"I feel like I've been freed," he murmured, as an unmistakeable warm droplet hit Gansey's shoulder. He kept his face pressed against the join of Gansey's neck and shoulder, hidden. "I haven't felt safe for..." Laurent shook his head and swallowed, nails digging into Gansey's shoulders. "Years."

He forced his grip to relax, at least so that he wasn't at risk of drawing blood. Nuzzling softly, Laurent pressed against him, basking in the warmth and safety of being held. "Being with you is healing. Like sunlight."

Gansey didn't care how hard Laurent squeezed him. If it made his lover feel safe, Gansey was willing to endure anything. Everything. The warm wet droplet on his shoulder only made him hold Laurent tighter in return, pressing a soft kiss against the side of his lover's head.

It was a position he could hold forever. Hugging Laurent close, feeling the beat of his heart, listening to the sound of his breathing and the gentle lull of his voice. Politics were cruel. Politics, he assumed, because he could think of no other reason someone might want to hurt such a darling man. Despite his desire to have a positive outlook, Gansey knew how dangerous and rough their world could be. How dark. How cold.

"I'll always be your sunlight. Whenever you need me. Whenever you want me. I promise." Gansey was not a man that took promises lightly. Stroking Laurent's hair, smoothing out all he'd messed, "I want to warm every last part of you."

Selfishly, he wanted to give all of himself to Laurent, even if he really should belong completely to the kingdom. Was it all right, to love someone so much, when he had such heavy duties? Was it foolish? Perhaps. But it was difficult to care. Especially when he knew Laurent would stand by his side through all of it.

Laurent had already suspected that Gansey would put him first, if it really came down to it, or at least that Gansey would be willing to take a gamble on the kingdom's safety if it would secure Laurent's. Gansey was a romantic, and Laurent was his weakness. That was obvious to Laurent, and it had been the reason for his vow. He would always put Gansey first, even at significant risk to himself, and he'd pay any price to protect the kingdom that kept them both safe.

Pressing another soft kiss to Gansey's throat, Laurent carefully detangled from him. He shuddered once as he lifted up, feeling Gansey slip from him.

Turning his face away, Laurent dashed away the tell-tale signs of tears and fetched a cloth to clean between his legs, keeping his back turned to Gansey while he recovered himself. He felt emotionally raw, and didn't want Gansey to see that, but he also couldn't bear to stay away from Gansey's side for more than a few moments.

"Are we expected anywhere urgently, do you suppose?" Laurent asked, tossing a damp cloth onto Gansey's chest. His careless grace was slightly stiff, and he'd retreated too fast behind his defenses--obvious, now that Gansey had seen the man behind the defenses. "I'd like to write to my father and brother."

Without bothering to ask permission, Laurent took paper and pen from Gansey's desk, along with a thin board he could write upon. Still naked, but wrapped in enough pride to clothe an emperor, he returned to the bed and tucked himself against Gansey's side, tangling their legs together.

Gansey let out a soft sound when they parted. He was still feeling quite sensitive, and losing the pressure of Laurent around him left him feeling awfully bare. It was a moment of loneliness, short as it was, and Gansey wanted to reach out to brush away the tears for his lover. But there was still pride, perhaps some old habits that no doubt died hard, so the hand that rose in response slowly dropped.

It was strong, his desire to help Laurent clean up. While Laurent cleaned himself up Gansey followed suit, taking the rag and cleaning his chest off. He would need a bath but it would do, for now. It almost hurt, how quickly Laurent zipped back up, but Gansey knew it had nothing to do with him. So he shook his head, scrubbing his skin clean as he could.

"No, I don't think so. We can take our time."

Laurent was welcome to borrow what he wanted and Gansey said nothing—were it someone else he might not have appreciated them touching his desk, but Laurent was different. It was too long, the time between his lover standing to fetch some writing things and then tucking back into the bed. Once he returned, their legs tangled and Gansey slid down, turning on his side, face toward Laurent.

"Do you mind if I close my eyes for a few moments?" Normally he found it difficult to sleep, even more so to sleep around other people, but this was okay. They'd been up for quite some time and spent a lot of it running around; he wanted to doze, curled up next to his lover. It would also afford Laurent some privacy as he wrote his letter.

Laurent smiled, bending down so that he could kiss Gansey's cheek. "I love you," he whispered.

His hand settled into Gansey's hair, toying idly with it as he arranged himself so that he could balance his writing board and still manage to write without taking his hand from Gansey's hair. He'd only just settled when he then set down the writing board and tugged Gansey's arm around his waist. "Don't let go," he murmured. "Please."

Only then was he satisfied, settling in so that he could write. His fingertips combed gently through Gansey's hair, gentle and affectionate, satisfied that Gansey would hold close to him even as he slept. "I'll keep watch," Laurent promised, though he trusted that the castle was safe and had guards aplenty, especially near the tower of the crown prince.

"I won't," Gansey promised, having had no intention of letting go. More than anything, it was close contact that he wanted as he dozed. The feeling of Laurent's hand settling into his hair almost had him rolling like a dog, a trickle of happiness finding its way down his chest, a warmth that he'd so recently come to know as love.

With his arm slung around Laurent's waist, the best place to rest his head was along his lover's chest or belly. He settled on the spot between, nestling his face against Laurent's waist, half on his lover and half on the pillow. It was incredibly comfortable, like Laurent was a pillow. A warm pillow.

"Thank you," he smiled, pressing a gentle kiss along Laurent's ribs. "Wake me up when you're finished, okay?" Not that he expected to fall heavily asleep, even if he was still riding the coattails of his orgasm.

"Then we'll..."

He yawned and stretched his legs out, rubbing his forehead against Laurent's side with affection as the fingers combing his hair lulled him to sleep, "Then we'll go to the garden." His eyelids fluttered shut and his breathing became light, evenly paced, as he dozed.

Laurent didn't wake him. He finished the letter to his father, then the one to his brother. Gansey was still sleeping, so Laurent took another sheet of paper, and folded it, then again, and again, sharpening the creases and tearing the sheet into sixteen small squares.

On each, he wrote I love you, and folded it, making a tiny pile of folded papers on the bed. When he had finished, he made a second set of sixteen.

Then came the process of extricating himself from Gansey. Petting his lover's hair coaxingly, he gently dislodged Gansey's arm, squirming out from under him. "I'll be right back," he murmured, slipping away and checking to make sure Gansey was still asleep.

Satisfied with his escape, Laurent wandered around the room, still naked. He took books from the shelf and put a folded paper between the pages of every third book, and every second book of the ones left on the desk. He tucked one into the pocket of Gansey's trousers on the floor, and more into the pockets of several more of his outfits in the wardrobe. He found winter clothing at the bottom of the wardrobe, and made sure that a few of the papers went into those. Everywhere he could find that Gansey might discover--in days, or months, or years--he tucked a little slip. When there were only ten remaining, he dropped them all into his own pocket, intending to see how many he could sleight of hand into places around the castle, as long as he could be sure that only Gansey would discover them.

Pleased with his little plan, Laurent slid back into bed, snuggling into Gansey's arms and kissing at his cheeks and lips to wake him.

On some level, Gansey registered when it was much cooler, his warm pillow having gone missing. But between sleep and comfort (plus the whisper of ...right back) he didn't stir. The bed was still warm and the real pillow soft. All he did was murmur and wrap his arm around the pillow instead, only slightly unsettled. Totally oblivious to Laurent's little papers, he dozed, dreaming about blond hair and light eyes.

When Laurent slid back into the bed, Gansey's arm raised back up on instinct to wrap around his lover. Kisses coaxed him to open his eyes, even if it had been a delightful nap. So rarely did he ever nap. Sleep was a strange beast to him; that was what happened, when one was plagued by too many thoughts. It was different with Laurent. Laurent made him quiet, made those voices silent when they were together. It was peaceful. If Gansey was sunlight to Laurent, then Laurent was the serenity of night to Gansey.

His eyes opened slowly as he stretched, draping more heavily against Laurent. "Mm... you're very comfortable, you know." Again, he was quite reluctant to even entertain the thought of getting out of bed. Alas. "You've finished your letters, then?"

It was around time for dinner, he knew, but he was even less inclined to go attend. No one would really miss them. They had gone the last few days. Skipping would be fine.

"Mhm," Laurent confirmed, stealing a few more soft kisses and reveling in Gansey's warmth. "Told my father how devotedly I adore the handsome prince who stole my heart." Smiling, he hugged close, breathing Gansey in and letting his fingertips trail along Gansey's side. "I don't want to get up. Though I suppose I am rather in need of visiting that tailor, and we'll be expected at dinner in an hour or so? It seems far more appealing to stay in bed."

He sighed, taking a kiss and smiling. "I'm sorely tempted to go another round, but I fear that might be more than I could deal with."

Swallowing, Laurent's smile faded a little, and he tucked his head against Gansey's shoulder. "I hate being kept from what I want. I should be able to just let... that go. It's in the past. It can't touch me here."

When his lover tucked his head, Gansey's fingers found their way to that flaxen hair. Gently, he smoothed it back, the other hand resting against the small of Laurent's back.

"It is in the past," he agreed, quietly, "but that doesn't mean it can't hurt. It's okay." Still, he didn't what it was, and he wasn't sure if it was all right to ask. "You're strong, Laurent. Whatever it was—I know we'll be able to work through it. Together." As they said: time heals all things. Maybe it simply hadn't been enough time. Slowly, they'd work through whatever plagued his lover's memories.

"As for dinner... let's skip." He gave his fiance a cheeky smile, "They won't miss us and we'll have more fun on our own." Leaning in, he quickly pressed a kiss to Laurent's temple. "And if you want to go another round, well... I would be delighted. Though, perhaps something a little less exhausting on you."

Laurent's smile was a little more tentative, eyes falling away. He toyed with the possibility of telling Gansey, and how much to tell him, if so.

After a moment, he shook his head, pulling away. He reached for his clothes, dressing quickly and suddenly feeling vulnerable and exposed. The quick turn in his happy mood made him all the more miserable, and he struggled not to let himself dwell, not to let himself even think of it.

It didn't work, and his defenses only rose as he dressed, making him feel twitchy and illogical, which only made his frustration spiral higher.

Desperate to derail his rising emotions before they turned into a flare of his infamous temper, Laurent reached for Gansey again, hugging both arms around his waist.

"I've never told anyone, you know," he whispered, clinging hard to his lover.

The switch of his mood wasn't difficult to sense. Half-expected, even, now that Gansey was beginning to learn more about his fiance. Which was why he let Laurent go when he pulled back and shook his head, remaining calm and trying to exude a soothing aura while Laurent quickly dressed. Gansey was not quite so quick about his own dressing; he pulled on his britches and left his tunic off.

While he was learning Laurent's reactions, Gansey wasn't quite sure what the best way to handle them was, just yet. Space, or closeness? Words, or silence? So he gave room first—it was part of his nature to try and adapt quickly and accordingly, the skill having been impressed upon him from a young age.

Arms wrapped around his waist and Laurent clung hard. Gansey rubbed his back in small circles, trying to help Laurent back off whatever negative emotions he might be feeling.

Never told anyone? Oh, Laurent. No one should suffer through their terrors alone. The thought that ... whatever it was had plagued Laurent and he had no consolation... it made Gansey's chest hurt.

"When you're ready to talk... I'd like to listen," he said. The past was the past. He'd give up the crown itself if he could go back and time and halt whatever happened but that was impossible. But he could listen. He could be vented to. If that was something Laurent could ever bring himself to do—speak.

It was easier, Laurent thought, now that they'd had sex. He felt nervous and defensive, worried that if he confessed, Gansey might refuse him sex--just like mentioning his aversion to touch had made Gansey stop touching him. The last thing he wanted was to be treated like a delicate crystal vase, even if the metaphor was apt in more ways than one.

And yet, at the same time, Laurent needed him to understand. The slight disconnect in their communication as Gansey assumed incorrectly felt like a deception, and miscommunication between them wrenched Laurent's heart.

"I was raped, Gansey," he said, voice flat and face safely hidden against Gansey's throat. He left it at that, for now, nails starting to dig into Gansey's back as he clung.

Terrible.

That was his first thought. What a terrible thing. And with that, so many other things made sense. Even if he'd prepared himself for the worst, his chest still hurt with the confession, and his eyes stung—he was glad Laurent was nestled into his shoulder. While he did not shed tears, there was a glassy, wet look to them that Gansey would not want Laurent to see.

And, truly, he did not know what he could say that would soothe or help ease the ache. If Laurent had not wanted to have sex they wouldn't have; Gansey trusted that Laurent would have stopped him if he didn't really want it. But those were some cruel ghosts.

He continued to rub his hand gently against Laurent's back. Never told anyone about it... so that meant that no one knew? Except his attacker, and whoever they decided to tell? Which was likely no one. One would probably not brag when it was a prince. Publicly.

"Oh, Laurent..." he sighed, closing his eyes, still beside the hand smoothing its way up and down his lover's back. "You really are strong."

Laurent was startled by that reaction, having never thought of himself as strong. He'd always beaten himself up for not having reacted better, for not having dealt with the situation better, for having allowed himself to be deceived and manipulated.

Puzzled as he considered Gansey's perspective, Laurent lifted his head enough to kiss his lover's cheek, then rested his head on Gansey's shoulder, slightly calmer now. "I don't feel strong. I hate that I still allow it to bother me. The physical aspect of it--it's nothing. It's just bodies and physical reactions. I shouldn't be so sensitive. What bothers me is that I was successfully manipulated for so long. I should be smarter than that. Stronger than that."

His perspective was skewed with denial, having told himself that the physical violation didn't matter. He'd always chosen to focus on the mental and social aspects of his situation, blaming himself for being so naive.

Gansey was quiet for a moment, slowing the rubbing of hand so he was merely embracing his fiance. The kiss to his cheek was welcome, but Gansey was lost in his thoughts. Many, many thoughts. But if there was anything coherent in his mess of a mind, it was one thing.

"It's not your fault." He said that with firm conviction, not a hint of doubt anywhere to be found. "Whoever it was—they should never have taken advantage." Turning his head again, his tone became softer. "I know that I'm idealistic. I know it's a cruel, tough world we live in, and that politics aren't kind. But ... that's not your fault, Laurent. Never your fault. Even physically... I think, it's not nothing. It matters. Your feelings are valid."

Why would Laurent react so poorly to losing control if the physical violation didn't matter to him? There was no manipulation going on between them.

"I hope you can believe me." It made his heart ache, painfully, to think that Laurent might not.

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