#things Laurent does to annoy Nikandros

[cpshit]

You already know what time it is. Another way Laurent likes to annoy Nik is by:

Calling Nikandros by his full, formal title, as it would only appear in writing, out loud. Nikandros corrected him once by snapping “the only place I’d get called that is on my headstone!” This delighted Laurent to no end, and the habit stuck.

[pourcap]

thoughts: kr chapter 15 (pt. 1)

'If they come this way—’ said Nikandros in a low voice. ‘Hey!’ Laurent called out. (...) i bet this will make nikandors love laurent even more :)

(...) Brief visions of strangling Laurent weren’t helpful. (...) damen is the best protagonist ever

(...) Damen judged the distance between himself and the nearest of the approaching soldiers, his chances of killing them, of killing enough of them to even the odds for the others. (...) also does damen's mind ever not immediately go this route? imagine constantly being so on edge because you feel like you have to fight and protect because that's all you've ever known, and because you're the best at it so everyone's survival depends on how quickly you eliminate threat. so exhausting.

(...) ‘You are Charls the renowned Veretian cloth merchant?’ said the officer sceptically, as if this was a name well known to him. ‘No,’ said Laurent, as if this was the most foolish thing in the world. ‘I am Charls the renowned Veretian cloth merchant. This is my assistant. Lamen.' ummmm. okay. 'as if it was the most foolish thing in the world' made me laugh. laurent's brashness lol. also i absolutely love how laurent just went for the ship name, which is of course veeery far off from damen's actual name so they totally won't risk being found out at all

'I don’t suppose your men could aid us in our repairs?’ said Laurent. Damen stared at him. They were encircled by fifty mounted Akielon soldiers. Jokaste was inside that wagon. no way that's why laurent stopped them. is he insane???? i can 100% picture the way damen's staring at him.

just remembered "it's the game i like" so i'm guessing this turn of event makes sense

The officer said, ‘We’re patrolling for Damianos of Akielos.’ ‘Who’s Damianos of Akielos?’ said Laurent. His face was utterly open, his blue eyes unblinking, upturned to the officer on his horse. ahhhhh!!! oh god. also i looove when laurent puts on this faux-innocent look he used so much in book one. it's just so amusing to me bc he's such an asshole and i mean this very lovingly

(...) Nikandros had the slightly stupefied look that Damen remembered from several of his own adventures with Laurent. (...) can you believe i'm getting emotional over this? because damen knows laurent now. because laurent is known. for probably the first time in his life except for by auguste he has someone who really actually genuinely knows him and appreciates him for the way his mind works. i just love laurent and damen so much <3

Damen followed him in, acutely aware that he was being separated from his men. Laurent simply walked into the inn. such an interesting nod to how damen feels more comfortable in the presence of his men (whether that's because he feels the need to protect them or because there's safety in numbers in general) whereas laurent had to rely on only himself for the past years

(...) Perhaps he could overwhelm Stavos. He could negotiate some kind of exchange, Stavos’s life for their freedom. his brain just won't stop omg. imagine constantly thinking about how to get out of situation that could end in your death (also imagine how intimidating damen must look to an outsider since he's basically just always coming up with battle plans in his head lol)

'I can assure you. Charls the renowned merchant is already here.' noooooooo

'That is impossible. Call him out here.' ohh the audacity. laurent can be such a prince

Charls took one look at the unmistakable blue eyes and blond hair of his Prince, who he had last seen in Damen’s lap dressed as a pet in a tavern at Nesson. His eyes widened. Then, with a truly heroic effort: ‘Charls!’ said Charls. hahhaaha no way. bless the real charls <3

they're all charls :')

'Thank you, Charls, this man believes I am the King of Akielos,’ said Laurent. god he's soooo annoying i love him so much

'An agent of the King when he has raised taxes and threatens to bankrupt the entire cloth industry?’ said Laurent. Damen put his eyes somewhere where they wouldn’t meet Laurent’s, (...) i repeat: he's so annoying and i love him so much. also a fed up damen is so funny to me

'You speak very good Akielon,’ he said, loudly and slowly. ‘Thank you,’ said Damen. ohh that reminds me of that scene in book one when laurent had damen drugged and this guy told damen that laurent had an eye for detail or something lol

'(...) Nikandros is completely useless as the Kyros,’ Laurent said, loudly enough for Nikandros to hear him. ‘He doesn’t know the first thing about cloth.' oh my god laurent stop antagonizing your boyfriend's best friend!!!

Damen looked over at Laurent, who was deep in conversation, letting his eyes pass slowly over every familiar feature, the cool expression tipped with gold in the firelight. He said, ‘Did he?’ ‘Charls said, think of the most expensive pet you’ve ever seen, then double it.’ ‘Really?’ said Damen. damen stop getting horny pt. 34972387

'Of course, Charls knew who he was right away, because he couldn’t hide his princely style, and nobility of spirit.’ ‘Of course,’ said Damen. hahahhahaha awww i love charls and i'm happy that in the future he'll have some new tales to tell about this moment right now

'Maybe you could encourage Akielons to wear sleeves. You’d sell more cloth,’ said Laurent. Everyone laughed politely at the joke, and then speculative looks crossed one or two faces, as if this young cousin of Charls’s might have stumbled by accident onto a good idea. you can always count on laurent to find a new way to be a nuisance to akielos <3

ahhhh did laurent push their mattress together to sleep next to damen????? i'm crying. sobbing, actually <3

they're kissing !!! i love them soooo much i can't even put it into words anymore, my heart just goes "!!!" every time they're close to each other

Laurent didn’t seem to care, even seemed to like it. Damen pressed him into the wall, and took his mouth. Laurent smelled of soap and fresh cotton. Damen’s thumbs pushed into his waist. laurent being turned on by damen's sweat... honestly if we got laurent's pov, he'd probably be just as intense about damen as damen is about him. they're truly a match made in heaven.

(...) They had not before had the luxury of extended lovemaking, deliberate and unhurried as a First Night. His thoughts ribboned with all the things they had yet to do. damen is such a softie!!! he's seriously just thinking about all the things he still wants to experience with laurent. he's so cute :')

(...) It was charming, because it was clear that Laurent was unsure exactly what to do, yet, typically, had acted to take control of everything. again: he knows laurent so well by now! i'm so emotional.

'First time to entertain a lover?’ Just saying the word made him flush, and he saw Laurent flush too. god. goooood. godddddd.

(...) He watched Laurent react to his body. Virgins and the inexperienced tended to get nervous, which he enjoyed as a challenge to be overcome, hesitancy turned into eagerness and pleasure. It pleased some deep part of him to see in Laurent the flickering of a similar reaction. (...) hmmmmm. :)))))))) i mean, he's wrong obviously, but i am super happy that laurent gets to experience sex with a good man who he finds attractive and who he likes and who is, on top of all that, great at sex <3

And dropped to his knees on the floor of the inn. i'm getting teary-eyed over a blowjob. seriously. i'm just so proud of laurent and of him taking initiative because he wants to do this with and for damen !!!!

that description of the contrast between laurent's internal struggle and practiced skill makes me sick

[laurent-ofvere]

if you're bothered/inclined fake dating but with nikandros/laurent? nikandros is disturbed and kind of turned on by laurents commitment to the role, how convincing he is and how well he gets along with nikandros' family ily ❤️❤️

Nikandros rarely knew what to expect from Laurent.

That wasn’t new. That wasn’t surprising. Laurent was an enigma; one there was no point in trying to figure out. And yet, Nikandros still didn’t exactly know how to curb his surprise as he watched him lean back on is heels and play with his nieces with a smile on his face.

It was, plainly, an incongruous image. He’d known Laurent for about half a year then, and he’d never known Laurent to show any interest in kids, especially not energetic ones who wore frilly tutus and demanded you braid their hair and tell them a story. Nikandros loved them dearly but also didn’t quite know what they wanted from him, yet Laurent responded as if there was nothing he wanted to do more than play with two seven year olds.

“He’s so good with them,” his sister whispered, appearing beside Nikandros and leaning into his shoulder. She was beaming, watching her daughter squeeze Laurent’s cheeks between her tiny hands.

Nikandros took a long, slow pull form his beer. “Yeah.”

“Does he have siblings?”

Nikandros thought again that he should have come better prepared for this. “Yeah.”

Really, Nikandros didn’t have the slightest clue if Laurent had siblings. He hardly knew anything about Laurent, except for that he went to the same university as him and Damen, he was partnered with him on some project, and he sporadically showed up at their apartment to do work. They didn’t spend all that much time talking, but they were friendly enough.

It was why it was completely unexpected when the offer came. Nikandros had been knelt over in their kitchen, rubbing his face between both palms as he’d complained to Damen about seeing his ex at his family’s Thanksgiving for the first time in months. Take me as your boyfriend, Laurent had said, looking up form his textbook, and Nikandros had been so taken off guard that he could do nothing but nod dumbly.

And so, here they were. That conversation had been two days ago, separated by one in which Laurent was working all day and couldn’t even come over. They hardly spoke until this morning, until the car ride over in which Nikandros spent half the time in a silent panic. This wasn’t even – he didn’t even need to be doing this. He would just avoid Kashel, there would be plenty of family friends there that he’d long lost contact with and planned to avoid. And even if he didn’t, it wasn’t as if Laurent was going to put on a show for her. This had been Laurent’s idea, but even that reasoning didn’t make sense, so he’d turned over at a red light and said, “Why are we doing this?”

Laurent looked back at him. “So your family thinks we’re dating.”

It was an annoying answer, which he thought might be the point. He rephrased. “Why are you doing this?”

“Why not?” Laurent said.

A car behind Nikandros honked twice. He looked up, frazzled, and stepped on the gas as another drove past him. He could feel Laurent watching him.

“Do you want something in return?” he tried.

A laugh. Short and breathy, not what Nikandros expected. ‘Pay my tuition?”

Nikandros drummed his fingers on the wheel. The closer they got, the more he realized how little sense any of this made. “Should we – go over some things?”

“This will be more fun,” Laurent said, which was when Nikandros knew he was in trouble.

But the trouble had yet to come. Laurent was as graceful as someone who actually felt these things, and maintained a balance that was notably charming. He stayed close without clinging, touched Nikandros when others looked without being tasteless. He made his mother laugh which usually didn’t happen at first, and he made his father smile which definitely didn’t happen often. If anything, the trouble was in how natural Laurent was making all of this feel.

Nikandros couldn’t stop watching him. He smiled when he caught Nikandros looking, winked, and it made Nikandros’ older brother nudge his shoulder in a way that had Nikandros swatting him away.

By the time dinner was ready, more than one person was acting like they were long used to Laurent’s company when in actuality, Nikandros wasn’t even certain he knew how old Laurent was.

“Where did you two meet?” His cousin asked.

“School,” Nikandros said.

“How long have you been dating?” This from his other cousin, spooning food onto his husband’s plate.

“About two months,” Laurent said, looking to Nikandros like he was waiting for conformation. His head was a little tilted, his blue eyes blinking. Nikandros thought that if he didn’t look away then he would just keep staring, so he nodded his head and returned his gaze to his plate.

Nikandros’ attention wavered again. He’d walked into the kitchen earlier to help his mom set the table, and he’d found Laurent leaned against the counter and helping her dish out the salad. His sleeves were rolled up and he was laughing, his mom joining him with the towel slung over her shoulder. Nikandros had paused, frozen, unsure if he’d even seen Laurent at such ease. He couldn’t imagine what was gong through his head, what incentive he’d set for himself that made him so good at this. He wondered if this was a game he did with people often, and then frowned at the thought.

A hand rested on his knee, pulling him out of his revere and lifting his head from his food. The touch was under the tablecloth, out of sight from anyone who might look. Nikandros turned to Laurent, confused, just as he felt the hand begin to rise.

Nikandros coughed, his foot kicking out and hitting the leg of the table. Laurent turned to him, fingers tightening, lips curving in concern. “Babe?”

“Sorry.” Nikandros accepted a drink from his sister, wishing it was stronger. “I’m good.”

It was a long time before Nikandros could get Laurent alone. Laurent had asked for the bathroom, and Nikandros had offered to show him before leading him in the opposite direction. They ended up in a long hallway, out of sight from the family but close enough that they could be heard. He watched as Laurent stopped walking, turning to Nikandros with an unexpected smile on his face. “Well?”

Nikandros didn’t know what to say to that. He was aware that he’d brought him here, but he obviously wasn’t the one who owed an explanation. “Well, what?”

“How am I doing?”

Nikandros felt that was as good as any place to start. He lifted both of his hands, pointed at Laurent’s direction. “What are you doing?”

Laurent cocked his head to the side. He took a step forward. “What?”

“You…” Laurent had taken another step, then another. Nikandros only realized when his back was to the wall, Laurent standing in front of him. His pulse spiked, hyperaware of the way Laurent was suddenly pressed against him. “What are you – “

“Relax.” Laurent’s voice was soft, a murmur in his ear. He was shorter than Nikandros, he had to reach up on his toes to reach, and it pressed their bodies together in a way that sent another tremor through him.

Nikandros turned his head, craning to see if anyone was coming. “Laurent –“

“We’re just playing the part.” Laurent was still speaking in his ear, his fingers resting on Nikandros’ jaw. He really was good at this. Nikandros swallowed.

“We already are.“ He tried to count to five, lost count halfway. “You don’t have to…”

“What if Kashel comes?” Laurent’s hands were on his chest, stilled against the shirt buttons like he was going to pull them apart. “She’s wearing heels, we’ll be able to hear.”

Nikandros hadn’t looked at Kashel once that evening. He forgot to even look for her, he had no idea how Laurent knew who she was.

Nikandros had the faint concern that he was taking advantage of the situation, of Laurent. He pressed his lips together, looking up. Five, four, three…

“It’s okay,” he said, covering Laurent’s hand. “I don’t – I don’t care what she thinks.”

“I do,” Laurent said, whatever that meant. Nikandros’ resolve was a very thin, very tentative thing. “Come on,” he said, hand moving to Nikandros’ neck. “Show her what she’s missing.”

Nikandros closed his eyes. “Laurent…”

“Come on,” Laurent repeated, tugging at the end on Nikandros’ hair. “Kiss me.”

So he did.

[my-honourable-barbarian]

I doubt nicknames will be necessary - Part 16

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 / Part 15

AO3 Link

One week and two days ago, Nikandros had received an interesting call. It had consisted of thumping and shrieking and a grunted laugh Nikandros very much never wanted to hear again.

As it had clearly been an accident, he had tactfully hung up the phone and then sent Damen a series of very annoyed texts telling him to keep his butt away from anything that could be dialled while having surprisingly enthusiastic sex with who Nikandros assumed to be the acidic slash deceptive neighbour.

He had received an image in return, and as he had been tapped into the work WIFI at the time, it had downloaded without his say-so. It had shown a kitchen – not Damen’s, but with a similar outlay – utterly wrecked with explosions of what appeared to be flour, splatters of dripping red Nikandros very much hoped was not blood, and balls of dough(?) stuck to the cabinets.

Before he had been able to translate this perplexing image into anything that made sense, Damen had sent a second one, of what looked to be a flawless pie with a couple of pieces missing. It had been followed by many exclamation marks.

Nikandros had… not asked. It stood to reason it meant Damen’s neighbour, fiend that he was, was becoming a permanent fixture and Nikandros would just have to get used to it.

But now Damen was sitting in his office pouting.

“You know,” Nikandros said, after knocking and hearing a muffled, ‘Come in,’ and pointedly pulling the door shut behind him again, “I remember the days when you proclaimed your door would never be closed to anyone.”

As expected, Damen was frowning and still giving his best impression of impeccable professionalism. “It’s not locked,” he pointed out, very likely only to piss Nikandros off.

“You know what I mean.”

Damen himself had implemented a literal open-door policy for his office, and had kept it in place all the years the company had existed. It had even survived the move to a bigger building. Before this week, the only time he had ever closed his door had been when someone had asked for a word in private.

Damen remained silent, and – as it often happened whenever he jutted his chin just so – Nikandros was the one to cave. Taking a fortifying breath, he pulled one of the extra chairs to the front of Damen’s desk and settled in for a longer conversation.  

“I realize I have not been very enthusiastic about your new relationship, but if something’s bothering you enough to affect your work ethic-…” Nikandros trailed off, unsure if he was supposed to approach this as Damen’s friend or his right-hand man at work. He settled on, “You can talk to me. I don’t have to like everything you say.”

Damen sank back in his chair and let out a long, frustrated groan.

While at the beginning of last week, he had shown up with a smile on his face that proclaimed he had definitely gotten laid after that food fight, his mood had gotten progressively worse the longer he had spent at work. Nikandros braced himself for the most logical explanation, which was a tale of unsatisfied libido.

Instead, Damen said, “I can’t look at Kastor right now without doing something I have been assured by at least two people and a snake I would come to regret.”

Perplexed, Nikandros took a piece of the pie on Damen’s desk and chewed on it while thinking things over.

Nikandros had, in fact, caught him glaring at Kastor on at least four different occasions. While the mutual avoidance was subtle enough to pass as coincidence, it was true that neither seemed particularly keen on talking to the other.

“Kastor, huh?” tried Nikandros between bites of (admittedly delicious if stress-baked) pie.

At least Kastor’s preference for submissive people (a role even Jokaste had often assumed in his presence, presumably to bait him) and Laurent’s supremely overwhelming personality (not to mention overall appearance of frigidity if not with Damen – yes, he had done a background check) did not add up to Damen once more getting cuckolded by his own brother.

“What did he do now?” Chewing.

“He’s plotting to ruin the company and then swoop in to save it from my incompetence.”

The last of the pie missed Nikandros’ mouth by a bit and smooshed against his cheek. Damen handed him a paper towel.

“And I’m not allowed to do anything. They won’t even tell me what they are planning because apparently I can’t be trusted to keep my cool.”

A fairly reasonable assessment if ever Nikandros had heard one. He asked, “And ‘they’ are?”

And Damen – as though unaware he was the sole reason Nikandros kept finding grey hairs in the mirror at the tender age of thirty – explained, “Laurent and Jokaste. And Berta, Jokaste’s snake.”

“Her what?” said Nikandros and massaged pie into his temples. Damen handed him another paper towel.

“Her snake. Laurent assured me she very much agrees.”

Nikandros rubbed the paper towel over his face and wondered if it could be justified for him to go on his honeymoon early.

“Uh huh. How exactly did your new boyfriend get involved in our company business?”

During the next paragraph, Damen seemed determined to cover a vast array of human emotion, beginning with fond pride, going on with genuine homicidal tendencies, and ending with determined contemplation.

“He discovered it, of course. And his uncle deserves to rot in jail for all eternity and then some. Possibly some dismemberment. We’re adopting a teenager, you know.”

Nikandros was not even going to poke at that with a ten-foot stick.  

“What,” he said, “are Laurent,” he said, “and Jokaste,” he said and realized this was the most unholy of combinations he had ever allowed to share a sentence out of his own mouth, “doing right now?”

Damen had the belated, appropriate and not at all sufficient grace to look sheepish.

“Well, currently they are planning your wedding.”

Nikandros let out a very long and very complicated curse in Greek.  

* * *

“They’ve assured me it’s not actually going to disrupt anything,” Damen said, meaning for it to come out a bit more convinced than it did.

Nikandros continued to look as though Damen had grown three heads, two of them belonging to people he really, really did not like, and the last quickly advancing to the same category.

“Whatever is supposed to go down to expose my brother’s intentions is meant to do so once you and Lykaios have already retreated.” As was their right. No newlyweds could be expected to entertain their families until even the last of them had passed out drunk. It was a two-day affair in a nice hotel for a reason.

“So all I will have to suffer is the fallout the next day?”

Most of what Laurent and Jokaste were discussing actually was about keeping the guests in good spirits, but that would probably not cheer Nikandros up. Understandable, really. While Jokaste might be trusted to at the very least display taste in her choices, Laurent’s mere presence would inevitably add an element of mischievous chaos that Damen knew for a fact no one in his family was prepared for.

“Nik,” he said, “you know our families. There hasn’t been a single gathering that didn’t end with at least one fistfight.” It was true. As dignified as they pretended to be while sober, between the inevitable havoc wreaked by a veritable mass of drunk Grecians and the usual sudden and intense feuds arising when spirits were elated, no one ever actually expected to get their security deposit back. “At least if we know which scandal is going to be exposed beforehand, we might be able to prevent anyone coming to blows.”

“I told you he was up to no good,” Nikandros said, with a deep sigh.

“Laurent?”

A scoff. “Him, too.”

Kastor, then. Damen had always assumed they simply did not like each other, but it would seem everyone around him had the decided advantage at not having been taught how to ride a bicycle by their very patient older brother.  

“I know you did. You were right, my friend.” Come to think of it, Kastor could have held the lessons at another place than a steep hill which had thoroughly skinned Damen’s knees. “Though I wish you weren’t.”

At long last, the air seemed to go out of Nikandros.

“He isn’t even invited,” he muttered with the deep resignation Damen with no small measure of guilt recognized from other such conversations. It wasn’t right. Nikandros was his oldest and most faithful friend.

But, “Actually, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that since before I found out,” Damen said. “I am aware it’s your wedding, but it does not look very good to invite absolutely everyone working for us except for Kastor.”

“Jokaste isn’t invited either.”

Damen shut his mouth and tried not to look as though he was frowning. But he could feel his forehead creasing nonetheless. His hands wrapped around the stack of papers before him.

“I do know our families,” Nikandros said, “and I also know you.”

“You can have Ios,” said Damen and held out the manuscript.

Nikandros looked up sharply.

Delpha Ios was an author they had been courting for the last month or so. She had spent a long time deliberating offers from several publishers, which in their industry unfortunately not always meant someone was actually good. In her case, it was a well-deserved wooing. Damen had received the confirmation she was signing on with them the day before.

It had been Laurent’s idea to bribe Nikandros with something he really wanted. Damen had hoped he would not have to resort to it, but he was starting to feel bad enough about the job he was doing as both a best man and best friend to be more than willing to give Nik this, at least. Besides, he would do a phenomenal job with Delpha. It wasn’t simply good connections that had elevated Nikandros to the status of Damen’s right hand.  

“Fine,” Nik said now, and Damen could tell Laurent had been absolutely right. He was clearly already itching to get into the manuscript. “Play it out at my wedding. But be advised I will be on my honeymoon for the duration of the fall-out.”

He stood up, and took the loose pages out of Damen’s hand.

“I also uploaded the file for you,” Damen said, because he sometimes liked to work on things digitally. Nikandros merely grunted.

On his way out of the office, Damen held him back for a moment.

“I know you’ve never liked Jokaste, but she’s on our side. This is not the first attempt at overthrowing me my brother has made.”

“A curse on both their houses,” Nikandros said, with feeling.

Without Damen bidding him to do so, he closed the door on his way out.

* * *

Damen, meanwhile, sank back down onto his desk and into what even he had to admit was more brooding than he was used to. He did not like the inertia of waiting, and he liked it even less now that he had been made thoroughly aware of all that was amiss not only in his company, but also in the life of the person he most wished to know happy and safe.

Having passed on the Ios manuscript, he was fresh out of work he actually enjoyed. There was ‘A Rose and Nothing But(t)’, but(t) he really, really did not feel like justifying why everything about it was unsuitable for publishing. And this tremendous pile of idiocy deserved more than a standard letter of rejection. It would have been the perfect work for Jokaste, if it didn’t mean she would also have to suffer through even one paragraph of it.

He eyed what was left of the pie, but he always enjoyed the baking more than the intake of sugar.

According to his clock, he couldn’t even make his rounds yet, since it would take another hour for the chances he might run into his brother to be diminished by Kastor’s rigid lunch schedule. And he didn’t much feel like putting on a fake smile and pretending everything was going well when truly, the brother he had loved and looked up his entire life did not even remotely feel the same for him.

But he never had been very good at sitting still for a longer period of time for no reason. What he needed was something to do. What he needed was-…

The phone rang.

“Akielos Publishing, Damianos speaking,” he answered, perking up.

“I have been thinking,” said Laurent in French, “that there is something I might enjoy doing to you. If you’re amenable.”

Perking up a bit more.

“I’m pretty sure I’m amenable,” Damen said, leaning forward onto his desk. “You are aware you’re calling me at work?”

“Don’t make promises,” chided Laurent mildly. “You might not like the idea. And I’m perfectly aware where you are, thank you. You’re sitting in your office pouting because you’re left out of our planning and aren’t allowed to confront your brother with all the crude honesty you have in you.”

Trying not to smile too audibly, Damen asked, “Why are we speaking French?”

Not that he particularly minded. Both the exercise of little-practiced skills and the even more pronounced lilt of Laurent’s voice were a most welcome addition to his day.

“Because, Damen. I’m standing in front of Erasmus pretending to have very important business with the CEO of Akielos Publishing.”

A grin tugged at the left corner of Damen’s mouth as he said, “Come up.”

“Not yet,” said Laurent, “I am here for a reason.” And Damen grinned a little harder, resting his chin on his hand and feeling at least as wooed as the heroine in the latest instalment of their best-selling historical romance series. If this neither pertained to things he was not supposed to know about nor about an actual visit, Laurent was calling simply to cheer him up. Which was… sweet. He had been oh so sweet in the last few days. Unguarded and – if Damen could dare make the assumption – a little less burdened as well. And Damen loved him so very much.

Laurent continued, with an enormous amount of non-chalance, “I wonder what you would be like spreading your legs for me.”

Damen’s elbow slipped off the desk.

* * *

It would have been quite simple to revive his role as Charls Merchant in the same outfit as before. It was fairly believable for a literature hipster to wear the same utterly pretentious combination of oversized sweater and tight blue jeans as a repeat offense.

However, there was more to get out of this role than one bad fashion statement. In fact, it was a shame he had not been continuing the ruse all along. The opportunity for casual mayhem, spying, and driving Damen mad with exasperation and lust was simply too good.

So he had acquired a sheer white shirt with the incredibly bold rhinestone print saying ‘Bedazzled’ and a plain jean jacket – again oversized.

Jokaste had braided his hair. A strange experience for both of them, as Laurent was not used to being touched (by anyone other than Damen) and Jokaste clearly wasn’t one for casual affection and playfulness. Nevertheless, she had offered and he had agreed her hairdo prowess likely surpassed his own and they had gotten through a rather stilted eight minutes of elaborate braiding and pretending the situation was not awkward at all.

In truth, he was having fun with her. In the way anyone could have with someone whose only reason for not carrying a switchblade was that her words were more cutting anyways. He liked the constant battle of wits and the combination of their cunning and the mere fact that no matter how brilliant she was, Damen had chosen him over her.

Point in fact…  

“I would like to take you, I think. I’ve never done it that way with anyone,” he was telling Damen over the company phone, while innocently blinking at Erasmus.

Damen’s voice was gratifyingly hoarse. It was fairly easy to picture him. He would be sitting in his office, in that giant chair of his that was probably just normal-sized for him, and his eyes would have gone ever so slightly glassy by now. “I haven’t either,” he said.

“Interesting,” said Laurent. “Is the thought off-putting for you?”

“I’ve never seriously considered it,” said Damen. “I am now.”

Laurent casually put one hand onto the counter, then settled his weight onto it.

“Hm, good,” he said. “Tell me what position you’d like to be in.”

“I-…,” a rather charming sputter, “Laurent-… I can’t just-…”

Smiling his best innocent smile at a passing employee (an accountant, potentially interesting to follow later), Laurent decided to have mercy on Damen.

“Let us start with something easier then. I could describe to you, perhaps, what it would feel like for you. Have you ever used your fingers on yourself?”

The lobby emptied again. Erasmus was unnecessarily straightening the stack of business cards. Interestingly enough, his ears were rather red for someone who claimed not to understand French.

“Not that way,” Damen said, with a heavy breath Laurent was rather sorry not to be able to enjoy fully at the moment.

“Your fingers are rather large for it. Do you enjoy opening me to you?”

“I do. I do. Gods, you know I do.”

Kastor was late in his usual rounds. Laurent had only meant to tease Damen for a little bit before hanging up on him, but with the delay, he would have to improvise. Not that he minded.

“What moment do you like best? Never mind, I shall tell you what I like. It is difficult to choose.” He deliberated, glancing around the lobby at the same time. A group of chatting people had entered. One of them – blonde, female, relatively new to the company – had a milkshake. Laurent briefly wondered if this was due to having been on a date with Damen, then waved the thought of as both uncharitable and irrational.

“The beginning, perhaps, when I feel the impossibility of compatibility and yet know you will fit. When I am closed and panting with anticipation, and you don’t even begin to push in a single fingertip until you feel me wanting to open to you.”

On the other end of the line, there was a very gratifying choking sound. Laurent wondered if Damen’s open-door policy would proof to fuel the fun of the game or if his ridiculous inhibition about sex in public would be a hindrance.

“Or when I do open for you and the crook of your hand makes me feel the first two joints of your finger on my rim until you are knuckle-deep. It feels like a lot, when you are inside me like that. I always wonder how I can take more until I do. I like it when you stimulate me, but sometimes I prefer not to be distracted by it. Incidentally, have you closed your door yet?”

A beat.

“Huh?”

“The door to your office. Is it still open?” He added, belatedly and with a smile, “This is not a metaphor.”

“It’s closed. I haven’t wanted to see anyone all day. I want to see you. I very much want to see you, Laurent.”

Laurent, meanwhile, was rather tempted to temporarily abandon his mission and gently ride Damen until words and deeds combined drove both of them over the edge. But his current situation had its own charm.  

“Hmm, yes, thank you for reminding me. I also quite like the way you look at me. You can never seem to decide what part of me you want to look at most. But this is beside the point.”

The words came almost without effort; the thoughts behind them as familiar as they felt natural; his current removal from their content nothing more than circumstantial. Damen was sitting in his office, in that absolute beautiful state where confusion enhanced arousal, and Laurent was the cause of it.

And while Laurent did not wish to make a habit out of playing power games in their sex life, whatever advantage he was gaining by being the one to remain unaffected while driving Damen out of his mind was nicely negated by the very personal information he had already offered. It felt like a fair exchange, particularly with the blush spreading from Erasmus’ ears to the back of his neck.

“I believe you would be different. I believe you would enjoy being overwhelmed by the pleasure. Perhaps that is how I would make you come, the first time. Two fingers inside you until it overtakes you entirely. You would be on your side, and I would be kneeling in front of you. I would reach between your legs. You would not even have to spread them much, merely lay one knee down next to my hip. I would see you. See if it was good for you. I could have my other hand in your hair. Fingertips trailing over your open mouth in the imitation of kisses to follow. You would require more care than I do, I think. It goes against your instinct. It feels strange. When the pleasure comes, you might reject it. No, I believe I would not fuck you, that first time, even if I found myself wanting you. I want you to have the time to understand whether you actually liked it.”

And perhaps Laurent had been thinking about it for a while now, between planning and studying and fucking and trusting. Perhaps he had been thinking about it a lot.

“Gods, Laurent,” Damen was groaning, “this is insanity. I’m at work.”

“Hm, yes I know. Erasmus is staring at me with an open mouth. I may have underestimated his dirty vocabulary in French.”

Erasmus actually twitched at that, looking up with the most wonderfully apologetic look that made Laurent feel almost sorry for him, but more importantly, Kastor was finally returning from his cigarette break.

“Laurent, I-…”

“Later, Damianos. I need to go now.”

* * *

Laurent did not introduce himself (or rather Charls) to Kastor so much as simply wander around after him wondering how long it would take for Kastor to notice a bedazzled hipster with fake glasses was trailing him. So far, he was astoundingly self-absorbed.

Who did notice him was Nikandros, who shot him a rather unamused look. Laurent wondered if Damen had spoken to him yet. Then Laurent wondered if perhaps he should try to make good with Damen’s best friend rather than gleefully antagonize him. Even if it was fun.

At the wedding, he decided. He would behave at the wedding. And Jokaste and he truly had come up with some good, wholesome elements to entertain Nikandros’ guests.

For now, Laurent would take full advantage of being unknown and unnoticed to one, and well known and unwelcome to the other.

Nikandros’ look actually turned even more done with everything as he turned away from Laurent lurking in the background and focused on Damen’s brother. Yes, Laurent decided, Damen had spoken to him.

“Ah, Kastor,” said Nikandros and Laurent observed with some fascination and no small amount of amusement how stilted he sounded, “You are coming to the wedding, are you not? I noticed we haven’t gotten an RSVP from you yet.”

“What wedding,” said Kastor.

“Uhm mine,” said Nikandros.

“Who are you marrying?” said Kastor, clearly bemused by this.

“My fiancé. Lykaios. You’ve met four times,” said Nikandros, clearly bemused by this.

“Ah,” said Kastor, and the awkward pause that followed was one Laurent would cherish for a very long time. That vein on Nikandros’ forehead was particularly active once again.

“I don’t think I’ve received an invitation,” Kastor finally said, and, “It must have gotten lost in the mail,” Nikandros replied, far too quickly.

It was incredible, truly, that even Damen was turning out to be a better liar.

After another very long and uncomfortable silence, Nikandros managed a, “I’ll send you another copy.”

“Please do,” said Kastor. Nikandros nodded and Kastor nodded and then they both very gladly and disgruntledly parted ways. Truly, if Laurent could paint, he would dedicate an entire series of canvases to capturing this.

After a moment, Laurent melted out of the shadows of the oversized office ficus. Without so much as a comment he changed direction to keep up with Nikandros, who with a curse had turned on his heels the second he saw Laurent emerge.

After a moment of steaming silence, Nikandros hissed what Laurent could only barely understand to mean, “I hope you’re happy now,” in very bad French.

Who had taught him this? It couldn’t have been Damen. Damen’s French was near flawless. An online translator maybe? Had this been what he had spent the last fifteen minutes looking up on his phone?

“Overflowingly so,” said Laurent, with a beatific smile.

To his further gratification Nikandros’ new vocabulary still did not seem to allow him any more understanding of what Laurent was saying.

* * *

Jokaste, it turned out, was not to escape her own cunning even for a day. Even having agreed to helping them both devise a plan to trap Kastor into falling on his own sword, she had underestimated just how much of her time would be taken up by Laurent’s sheer tenacity.

She had figured preparing Laurent for his day of oh-so-sneakily gathering information about Damen’s company at Damen’s company would relieve her of his presence for the rest of it.

He had, after all, never even met Kastor, and would hardly rely on information given to him by Jokaste (whom he rightfully so did not deem fully trustworthy) and Damen (whom he rightfully did not deem fully capable of understanding who his brother truly was).

But this, she should have considered as well.

Apparently having decided against spending his time in the presence of his over-eager and rather offensively in love boyfriend, taking a break from innocently stalking Kastor and having exhausted the last of Nikandros’ impatience, he had now chosen to spend his time following Jokaste around, chatting amicably in French about croutons and occasionally dropping laser sharp insight into the inner workings of the various employees in the exact same tone.

Jokaste was quite aware he was observing her as much as anyone, of course. He would have been stupid to dismiss her, no matter how effective their combined minds were proving or how many napkin swans (and snakes) they had folded together.

Well, there was nothing to do about it now except to sufficiently distract him.

The business that led her to Damen’s interestingly closed door was not a pretence, at least, though did raise his unfortunately perfect eyebrows at her.

Damen sprang up from behind his desk, hit his elbow on a shelf in the process, absolutely did not seem to notice that he had hit his elbow on a shelf, and exclaimed, “Laurent!” as though Jokaste were entirely invisible.

“Why Damen,” said Laurent as Jokaste discretely rolled her eyes and put the USB drive onto the desk which also housed half-eaten pie, all crammed conveniently onto the same side as the closed laptop “a closed door?”

Damen… blushed.

Good gods.  

“As I am sure your pet snake cannot wait to tell you, Kastor has officially been invited to the wedding,” she said, mostly to hurry this particular interaction along as much as possible. “I have in the last few days established enough social pressure on him that he will not be able to decline.”

“Good,” said Damen, still looking rather exclusively at Laurent, whose eyes were… sparkling.

“Which brings me to a concern I have,” she went on, barely keeping from rolling her eyes. If she wished to observe a mating ritual, she’d introduce Berta to a nice snake of whatever gender she preferred.

“While there are enough contingency plans in place that it is not a necessity for him to take me as his date, we have established that we are all in agreement it leads to the most easily controlled outcome. I believe he might not even ask me.”

This, at last, seemed to sufficiently catch their attention.

“Why not?” asked Damen, frowning slightly, while Laurent’s eyes were already narrowing as though to precede Jokaste’s answer. She did not give him the chance.

“I doubt there is much incentive now. Our liaison was hardly about me; its sole purpose was to keep you distracted while his coup was to take place.”

With the kind of innocent deadliness that Jokaste had seen rather too much of in the last few days of scheming, Laurent insisted, “Oh, don’t undersell yourself. I’m sure taking you from Damen and being able to rub his nose in it also played its part.”

“Quite,” said Jokaste, who had opted for the more tactfully phrased version.

“I don’t see how this might not still apply,” Laurent went on. “Would he not proceed in the exact same vein if encouraged sufficiently? Stage a scene where it becomes clear Damen asked you to accompany him and you did not accept his invitation and Kastor should be all over trying to one-up Damen once again.”

In other circumstances – and ones that would rely entirely on Jokaste’s acting skills, while Damen would resume pouting in his office as he had been doing for days now – this would be a solid approach. But clearly, as clever as Laurent was, he was astoundingly oblivious to the effect he had on Damen.

Predictably, Damen merely frowned and shook his head. “No, provoking him like that won’t work. I told him to not hold back on dating Jokaste for my sake weeks ago. On account of my very happy relationship with you.”

Laurent… blinked rather fast.

“That does,” Laurent said and paused only slightly too long. Jokaste wondered if Damen noticed it as well. From the way his smile broadened, he did. “…put a damper on things,” Laurent finally finished. “I was rather counting on continued pettiness.”

Perhaps Jokaste should be insulted Damen had at no point insisted her womanly wiles would be enough to win over any man, otherwise motivated or not.

“Sorry,” said Damen and did not look it.

“No,” said Laurent, quite quickly, “we can use this. It’s better, actually.” He turned to Jokaste, flustered expression turning shrewd again quickly. “Let him take you to the wedding to prove that he is, in fact, not petty and never was. His affair with you has hardly endeared him to the people of this company, let alone to your family, I would assume. By bringing you after having received your blessing he will show that he was not motivated by being jealous of his younger brother’s shiny toy, but rather establish him as a man who simply and tragically fell in love with his brother’s girl. It will help him recover some much-needed ground.”

Jokaste also did not take offense to being called a shiny toy, nor the reminder that apparently neither brother had ever given much of a damn about her.

With an internal sigh, she conceded, “I’ll make it work,” which she would, and left them to their heart-eyes.

Perhaps, it turned out, she was rather uninterested in ever actually falling in love. How could she ever be taken seriously again?

* * *

As the door rather pointedly fell closed behind Jokaste, Laurent was already turning to Damen again. His eyes were exactly as dark as Laurent had pictured them, his look as intent, his physique as proud as he unceremoniously crowded Laurent against his own desk.

In a rather giddy way, Laurent realized he must have spent at least some time clearing it. The space empty on it was rather conspicuously large enough to make out on.

Unable to resist gaining the upper hand again, he smirked and very gently said against his own finger which he’d laid over Damen’s lips, “Sometimes when you fall asleep, I reach back into the gentle ache you have left behind, and I enjoy knowing you have had me. I wonder if you would be the same.”  

This time, he allowed the sound Damen made at that to affect him.

[nikanndros]

The Arranged Marriage AU Part 19 [Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18]

There’s a window in each cell, high up and tiny. It’s too high for Laurent to look out of - although he knows that they are in the part of the palace that is on the cliffs, and so likely all he would so is a sudden drop to the ocean - but it lets in enough light that Laurent can roughly guess what time of day it is.

Five days pass, and all that happens is that every now and then a servant comes in with food or water.

“Tell Damianos I need to speak with him,” Laurent tells the servant each day, and each day Damen does not come.

Then, on the fifth day, when the sun is casting a small square of warmth on the floor of Laurent’s otherwise dark cell, Damen arrives. With him is a Vaskian woman, who is almost of a height with him.

“Damen,” Laurent says, stepping to the front of his cell.

Damen ignores him, going to stop in front of Kastor’s cell instead.

Kastor is sprawled lazily on the ground, his back propped against the furthest wall. “So it is like that then?” Kastor sighs.

“Khara is here to escort you back to your fiancee in Vask,” Damianos states. “We have chosen to waive a trial and execution. You will be banished to Vask instead, for the good of our alliance with them.”

Kastor is let out of the cell and he stands before Damen. “Take care of yourself,” he says. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

Damen nods, as if this is the situation to be taking brotherly advice from his supposed attempted-usurper. “Perhaps you can return one day,” Damen says softly. There’s something very delicate in his voice. Laurent remembers that Damen has just lost his father, and now is losing his brother and his lover. There is only so much pain a man can be expected to take.

Kastor looks back at Damen for a long moment, and then he hugs him. Damen returns the hug immediately, despite how easy it would be for Kastor to steal the sword at Damen’s hip and murder him with it. The sword stays in place.

Kastor pulls back and says, “Remember father’s advice,” and “I will write to you,” and “thank you.”

Damen looks very sad. He watches Kastor and the Vaskian woman leave. The door slams shut and then it is just Laurent and Damen alone together in the resulting silence.

Laurent waits a beat, and then begins, “Damen, you have to believe that I-”

“Wait,” Damen says. Laurent falls silently instantly. “I need a moment.”

Very slowly he turns and walks towards Laurent’s cell. Where Nikandros had stopped, as if afraid to let Laurent get close to him, Damianos does not. He keeps moving towards Laurent until they are both pressed against the bars, in front of one another. Damianos does not flinch when Laurent reaches between them and rests his hands in the crook of Damen’s neck on either side. His eyes are closed.

“Are you alright?” Laurent whispers.

It takes Damen a moment to speak, and when he does, it is quiet. “You could take my throat in your hands and squeeze and I would not fight you. Do you truly want me dead?”

“Damen,” Laurent says. He is pressing himself against the bars with so much force that he thinks he might have bruises after this. “Damen. No. I want nothing less. Those accusations were a farce.”

Damen opens his eyes.“I hope so,” he says. “I feel it in my heart. I don’t care if they were true once, even, as long as they aren’t now.”

“How is Nik?”

“He does not love easily,” Damen says. “He is unaccustomed to dealing with a broken heart.”

“He will never forgive me.”

“Before the wedding, everyone warned him about you. Myself included,” Damen tells him. “We said, he is Veretian, he can’t be trusted, you musn’t let him know your heart or he will eat it.”

Laurent breathes out, shakily.

“When my father invited him here for the tournament,” Damen continues, “he told Nikandros to leave you in Delpha. Nikandros wrote back and vouched for you. I read the letter myself. I thought he sounded like a fool in love, and I decided I would talk sense into him. When I saw you two together, I lost my resolve. How could I ask him to deny something I wouldn’t have the heart to deny myself?”

“I cannot bear this,” Laurent says. He cannot bear to hear of what he once had and has now lost.

Damen doesn’t stop. “Before we went riding to the cliffs, I asked him if he would be terribly jealous if I tried to court you. He said, that you belong only to yourself and so he had no right to stop you. Even as your husband. Even as he loves you.”

“You have to look after him,” Laurent pleads. “After you’ve dealt with me. You have to be there for each other.” Overcome, Laurent adds, “He hates me.”

“He told me that you were bid to lie with him,” Damen murmurs. “I told him no man is as talented an actor as to show love as sweetly as you do. He doesn’t hate you. He is afraid that his love for you might overpower his loyalty to the Kingdom.”

“Where is he?”

“I don’t know,” Damen admits. “He left soon after he spoke with you. I have been warned not to do anything stupid in his absence, but he didn’t tell me where he was going.”

“He won’t even stay to see me executed,” Laurent chokes out.

Damen grasps Laurent by the shoulders. “There will be no execution,” he hisses.

“You have let Kastor go. They will think you weak if you release me as well,” Laurent tells him. He puts a hand around Damen’s wrist so that he cannot pull it away. “It’s okay, I understand that some things must be done.”

“I am King,” Damen says, and his voice is stern now. “The people will think what I tell them to. I already have a plan in place. I think it will be ready tomorrow. I will come and see you again tomorrow either way.”

“What is the plan?”

“If I tell you,” Damen says, “you’ll tear it apart and ruin my resolve. I have to go.”

“Don’t leave me down here alone,” Laurent says, and he hates the weakness in his voice. At least with Kastor there, he hadn’t been entirely stuck with his own thoughts.

“I’ll send Erasmus to sit with you,” Damen promises. “He has been asking to see you. I will be back tomorrow.”

“I know,” Laurent says.

“I love you,” Damen replies. And then he is gone.

-

Erasmus does come down, looking brave with a bundle of blankets and cushions overflowing in his hands. He stays the whole night, camped out next to Laurent’s cell, and then he leaves in the morning after he collects breakfast for Laurent.

Laurent has nothing to do for the day except for wait for Damen’s promised visit. It is dark again when he finally does arrive. And he is not alone. There is a man shrouded by a dark cloak, quick on his heels.

“You’re back,” Laurent says, grateful just to not be alone.

Damen doesn’t get a chance to reply, because the man next to him pushes past him towards Laurent and then his hood is coming down and revealing thick, golden hair.

“Auguste,” Laurent gasps. He is already sticking his hands between the bars so that Auguste can clutch them.

Auguste’s grip is tight, and he looks Laurent up and down before turning to Damen. “Unlock the cell,” Auguste says. “Please.”

In any other circumstance, Laurent might have chastised his brother for coming this close to begging. Damen is already brandishing a key, and then the lock is coming away and the door to the cells is being opening. Laurent basically stumbles out of it, into his brother’s arms.

“What a mess you’ve gotten yourself into, little brother,” Auguste says, holding him tight.

“Father has done this,” Laurent says into his shoulder. He thinks he might cry from the relief of seeing his brother so unexpectedly. He cannot be executed now because he is always safe when Auguste is nearby.

“We will talk about it later,” Auguste tells him. “We have to go.”

“This way,” Damen instructs, and then he leads them out of the cells and through the palace.

“What’s the plan?” Laurent asks, when they get outside. They are clearly going for the stables. “Are we going somewhere?”

“Too many people heard the initial accusation, before I called for you and sent the guards away,” Damen says. “I have Kyros telling me I should execute you and make an example.”

“I gave you the same advice,” Laurent says.

Auguste makes an annoyed sound and slaps the back of Laurent’s head. “What do you mean you gave the same advice?” he hisses.

“I’m not doing it, anyway,” Damen says. “But we have to get you out of Akielos and somewhere safe.”

“For how long?” Laurent says.

“Laurent,” Auguste hushes him, “We will talk about it after we’ve left Ios.”

“Until my innocence has been proven?” Laurent insists. “Or until my father dies?”

“Laurent,” Auguste says again, this time as a reprimand.

Laurent drags his feet when Auguste tries to hurry him along. He stops walking entirely. He turns to Damianos. “You’re sending me away forever.”

“You can’t stay here,” Damen says. “You cannot go back to Vere or your father will surely kill you. Kempt has an alliance with Vere, so does Vask, they’ll just send you to your father once they find you.”

“Patras,” Laurent says.

“Torveld has offered to house you,” Auguste replies. “He offered when I wrote him, concerned about your wedding to the Kyros, and I sent him another message when you told me in Damianos’ letters that father wasn’t letting me receive your letters. He will help.”

“No,” Laurent says. “I will not fuck him.”

“If you don’t go to Patras,” Auguste says, in the voice he used to use to reason with Laurent when he was six and throwing a tantrum. “You will die.”

“Grandmother won’t give me to father.”

“Kempt will make her. They cannot afford Vere’s ire,” Auguste says.

“I can hide in Vask, no one will know who I am.”  He’s finding it difficult to breathe.

“The Vaskian clans won’t let a random Veretian join them.”

He turns to Damen, grasps his chiton. “Let me stay here, in the shadows. I will find a way to clear my name and stop my father.”

Damen takes Laurent’s hand in his, presses a kiss to it.

“No,” Auguste says. “The risk isn’t worth it, Laurent. I will not have you die for this.”

“Torveld never offered to house me when my engagement was decided on,” Laurent hisses. “He offered to marry me in Nikandros’ place. I won’t fuck him. I am married.”

“That marriage was never consummated,” Auguste says.  “We can choose not to acknowledge it.”

“It was consummated many times.”

“There were no witnesses.”

“Damen witnessed and participated in my consummation more than once, actually.”

The expression Auguste makes at that is almost comedic.

“No it wasn’t,” Damen says, sounding pained. “Laurent, you have to go. I would prefer you alive and in Patras than dead in Akielos. Don’t make me mourn you too.”

Laurent yanks his hand out of Damen’s grasp and turns away. He covers his face and forces himself to breathe. He was willing to die for Damen and Nik, of course they would prefer this over executing him. It’s a terrible choice, but it’s also no choice at all.

“You will acknowledge my marriage,” Laurent says, face still covered. “That part is non-negotiable, or I will tell Torveld myself in great detail how far I am from being a virgin.”

Auguste, obviously sensing the unspoken acquiescence in this negotiation, sighs. “Fine.”

Laurent puts his hands down and turns back to them. “I will go to Patras, but if Torveld’s intentions are anything but kindness for a fellow Prince, I will leave. And you and Damen must both agree to try to clear my name and peacefully stop father so that I can come back.”

“Yes,” Damen says, immediately. “I agree.”

Auguste huffs, but he waves a hand in agreement. “Fine,” he repeats. “Now say goodbye. We have a long night of riding ahead of us.”

Laurent and Damen move towards each other instantly. “Look after each other,” Laurent reminds him, gripping his arms. “And be careful, have Pallas continue checking all the places I told him to. Make sure the poison checkers are performing their duties. Be cautious of who you trust.”

“I love you,” Damen says. “I’ll miss you. Nik will too, you know he loves you.”

“Listen to what he says, he is more perceptive to ill intent than you are,” Laurent continues. “Make sure you comfort him when he finds out I am gone, he doesn’t know how to ask for things for himself.”

Damen kisses him, and there are countless words that they don’t have the time to say in the action.

“I’ll just go get the horses,” Auguste says from somewhere behind them.

Laurent pulls Damen back in when he makes to pull away. “I love you,” he says against his mouth. “Tell Nikandros I love him too. And I’m sorry I wasn’t quicker to telling you both everything. I’m sorry I didn’t stop this in time.”

Damen kisses both of his cheeks, and then the tip of his nose and his forehead. “Write to me,” he says.

“I will,” Laurent promises. “I’ll write in code so there can be no forgeries.”

Laurent takes a step back, he knows he should go and meet Auguste in the stables, but he cannot bear to lose a moment more than necessary with Damen. He trails a hand across the dark skin of his cheekbone.

Over Damen’s shoulder, under the cover of darkness, the light reflects off of something metal.

The knife, withdrawn from Chauvin’s jacket - who has seemingly snuck up behind Damen while they were embracing - has barely caught Laurent’s attention before Laurent is unsheathing the sword strapped to Damen’s side and stepping forward.

It is barely a fight. Chauvin is clearly not expecting resistance, the coward that he is, and a dagger is no match for a sword. Laurent skewers him in one thrust. He falls to the ground, dead.

“Laurent,” Damen breathes, horrified. He didn’t even try to stop Laurent grabbing the sword, he is such a trusting idiot.

“Are you okay?” Laurent asks, even though he knows Damen must be because Laurent just saved him. Laurent turns to him and stumbles a little.

“Laurent,” Damen says again. His voice is pained.

Laurent looks down. There is a dagger lodged into his abdomen to the hilt. Laurent blinks. “I didn’t realise,” he says, almost nonsensically. Chauvin stabbed him. Now that he has seen the blade, staining his jacket dark with blood, the adrenaline from the sudden attack seems to be wearing off and the pain is coming in.

Laurent reaches for the hilt of the dagger to pull it out, but Damen grabs his hands. He is very warm. “No,” Damen says. “No, no.”

Auguste appears then and he is saying something and looking frantic, but Laurent is having difficulty hearing. His vision is spotting. “I need to sit down,” Laurent tries to tell them. He’s not sure if they hear him, but he feels his knees buckle anyway.

Auguste catches him, and Damen is yelling for help. That is the last thing that Laurent sees, before he cannot keep his eyes open any longer.

[josselinkohl]

hello tumblr. I should be editing my bang fic so naturally I am daydreaming about angsty Captive Prince headcanons.

My idea is a really heartrending fic where Damen and Laurent are trying to rule their kingdoms and just like...can't make it work and it bleeds into their personal lives and they eventually give up. And then they end up meeting again at some international event ten years later.

Imagine Damen riding past the half-constructed palace at Marlas on his way to this international thing. His son is like asking about the architecture or whatever and Damen is so tied up inside about it he can't really even answer.

Meanwhile Laurent has now spent a lifetime living up to the cast iron bitch reputation, and he has an ageless quality. He doesn't have any children and half of Vere is terrified what happens when he dies and the other half is convinced he's immortal and will live forever.

Laurent left Damen at Marlas when Leon was four, so Leon only remembers him a little bit. Leon remembers that Laurent was fair-haired, and other than that Leon basically only knows that Nikandros told him that Laurent was very smart but not very honorable. Leon is a little bit worried that Laurent doesn’t like him. He has a child’s concern that he was part of why Laurent left.

In my head Damen is very fair to Laurent and defensive of him also, so he corrects Leon and says that Laurent was very honorable but Nikandros just didn’t like him much, and he reassures Leon that Laurent loved him very much but that Leon had nothing to do with why he left. 

Leon asks why Laurent did leave, and Damen doesn’t answer.

Unbeknownst to Damen or Leon, Leon is actually Laurent’s heir. Laurent in fact has spies in the Akielon court solely for the purpose of reporting back to him on Leon and Damen’s other children. His spies think Laurent is especially vicious, keeping tabs on his enemy’s children. What a cruel way to plan revenge. But of course Laurent is not planning anything like that. He just reads his spies’s missives alone in his chambers while he drinks. He’s acquired a tolerance.

They're at this international gathering. Laurent is cold and perfectly polite but shuttered. Damen is sad because he was hoping maybe Laurent missed him even just a little bit. Laurent is not very warm to Leon either. He's polite, but Damen was hoping Leon would get a warmer reception. Leon himself is also a bit cold toward Laurent, uncertain. They're making it through the festival and Leon and Eric of Patras are having a grand time (they're the same age). 

Then one night Laurent sneaks into Damen's tent. He's holding a bottle. The bottle is not full but Laurent doesn't seem drunk, Damen observes he must have worked on his tolerance. Damen is like, half braced for this argument and half relieved, because even if they have  big drunken argument it at least is better than Laurent pretending he doesn't feel anything.

And Laurent is like, "In ten years, I haven't been even remotely tempted to have sex with anyone, and then you show up and wrestle with your shirt off and --" He stops to drink from the bottle again.

Damen blinks because this was not what he was expecting. Damen is kind of annoyed because he thought they were going to fight and Laurent is showing up talking about sex?

And Damen is like "I'm not going to have sex with you."

Laurent is eyeing Damen’s skirt and says "I think you will."

Spoilers: Laurent is right.

Afterward, Laurent slithers out of bed to try to escape. Damen says, "Of course, running away, that's all you're good at." Laurent looks at him for a long moment in the darkness and Damen almost takes it back. But he doesn't and then Laurent leaves.

Damen is still feeling sort of annoyed the next morning so he finds Nikandros and he's like "let's practice wrestling". He’s hoping Laurent is watching. He’s not sure if he is, but he suspects. Leon comes along and wants to practice wrestling also, so Damen is distracted from his shirtless performance by teaching his son, and Damen’s younger son Euandros was trailing along after Leon (Leon is fourteen and Euandros is six, Damen’s youngest) and Euandros doesn’t want to be left out either so all three of them end up practicing wrestling. 

Of course Laurent is watching, hidden away. He can’t tear his eyes away from Damen playing with his sons. He hasn’t been fucked in ten years and he can still feel it as he’s watching them and he hasn’t felt this many emotions in ten years either and he doesn’t like it. Damen has to go off to attend to the business of being king. Leon and Euandros agree to go off to practice with wooden swords. Laurent finds himself following. 

At the sword ring, Laurent comes out of hiding and just stands at the edge of the ring. 

Leon recognizes Laurent and is a bit hesitant around him. Some part of him still feels rejected by Laurent. But Euandros has no such background and happily goes up to Laurent and says, “Will you practice with me?”

And Leon puts a hand on his shoulder and is like, “Andy, this isn’t a good idea--”

But Laurent says “Yes,” and he’s climbing into the ring and Andy is very excited and Leon doesn’t know what to do and Nikandros is nearby and so Leon runs off to get him and is like “Andy’s fighting with the king of Vere!” and so Nikandros also comes running and they two of them are nervously watching Laurent and Andy together. 

Laurent is so kind to Andy. He praises Andy’s form and is patient with his technique and gives him wonderful suggestions on his footwork. Laurent ignores the two of them and Andy just beams in their direction like this was the best idea ever.

Later they are going to eat lunch. Euandros runs up to Damen all excited and Damen picks him up and carries him. Andy is only 6 and is bubbling over with stories about his day. Damen is half-listening to Andy and half listening to his steward's briefing about lunch. Then Andy says "and then I asked the king to sword fight with me" and suddenly Andy has Damen's full attention.

Damen hears the story of Andy fighting with Laurent from Andy, from Leon, and from Nikandros. Damen is the least worried of anyone about this. He is like, of course Laurent would be kind to Euandros. Damen's daughters are 9 and 7 and named Eradne and Aratia. 

That evening Damen goes back to his tent and he's kind of waiting. He suspects that Laurent will show up again.

Laurent does. He isn't carrying a bottle this time. Damen is pleased. He thought this would happen. Laurent tries to say something and Damen puts a finger on his lips and says, "let's not talk".

Then Damen proceeds to take Laurent apart. He undresses Laurent, touches him gently, brushes fingers through his hair, draws his mouth along Laurent's skin and any time Laurent starts to try to say something Damen is like "shh." 

Damen is pretending in his head like the last ten years didn't happen, maybe. Or he's trying to win Laurent back with the most amazing sex ever. He can't even decide in his own mind what he's doing, but he's sick of thinking so much, he just wants to feel this.

Part 2

[fors-nat]

A lil something for @booksnchocolate as a thank you for the lovely tag to my last lamen post (yes, I do read your tags, people)

 So LAURENT MAKING NEW FRIENDS:

-       The first friend Laurent ever makes is a teenage son of some nobleman who arrives to the capital for some kind of festivities. He is in this age when he wants to rebel but his father puts too much hope and pressure on him and demands perfect behavior and all kinds of successes. The kid is very annoyed of everything and does not even try to hide his attitude. Yes, he is a bit spoiled. Laurent notices him across the table during a banquet when the conversation turns to something boring, and he catches his eye and causally performs some trick, something silly like an olive disappearing in his hand, trying to cheer him up (like he usually does with kids). But the kid is not a child anymore, he is not so easily amused and he just rolls his eyes (at an Emperor, yes, the audacity!) so Laurent accepts it as a challenge and he tries all kinds of silly stuff to get a reaction from him, all while trying to be unnoticed by anybody else. The kid watches him for some time without showing any emotion, and then calmly pulls some prank on a nearby guest or a passing servant. It’s not a very nice prank, something like putting a bug behind somebodies collar, or rearranging the dishes and glasses in such a way that a person knocks over their wine, but it turns out kind of funny, and people laugh, and Laurent laughs too, and the kid smiles smugly. So Laurent repeats the prank on Damen who is in a middle of a conversation, and the evening turns into a mess after that. The next couple of days they just silently compete at “Who Is The Biggest Prankster” pulling all sorts of jokes and tricks, and the court quickly learns to be on their guard when those too are in the same room. Which only offers them more of a challenge they are only too eager to meet. Also they often request dirty songs from the musicians during the banquets to make everybody uncomfortable on purpose. Damen is amused, the courtiers learned to just roll with it, Nikandros is getting migraines.

-       The second friend is a person who is in charge of teaching the children of the Akielon nobility to fight and… ya know… be athletic in general, because Akielos makes a big deal of sports and all that. For Laurent it’s a good opportunity to learn some Akielon fighting techniques, also Nikandros cannot be teaching him wrestling forever, the dude’s got a job of his own, and Damen is not always available, so Laurent starts practicing with this guy, who is nearing his old age, but is still in good shape, and is the best in the business. He is used to dealing with kings, princes, and other nobilities, so he does not let Laurent slack off, yells at him for mistakes and is strict as heck.  We all know that Laurent is a good learner, so he picks up quickly, and the coach is very pleased. Sometimes Laurent practices with the kids, and the coach even asks him to do it more often, because the kids try harder if they spar with the Emperor. Laurent often lets them win, and gets very over-dramatic in his “defeat” to make kids laugh. At the end of the practice they talk a lot about strategy, and the dude uses Damen and his first days at learning as an example pretty often (best fighter in Akielos, duh). Laurent remembers all those bits of information and uses them to try and defeat Damen in a match. The “I’ll avenge my brother” days are over, but the idea to defeat Damen in a fight is still there. The coach values Laurents determination and hard work, so he gets really proud of him, and he appreciates Laurent being a good listener and a hard-working student, so they often talk for hours.

-       His third friend is a librarian in a public library. Laurent and Damen founded some schools and they gave most of their books to the public library. They still have some private collection of old and/or rare books, but most of the books are accessible to common people now. And Laurent visits the library pretty often to get something to read, or to bring new books he keeps collecting from all over the world. The librarian is an energetic lady who speaks several languages and is super excited about books, and old history and old historical songs and suchlike. So naturally Laurent who opened such a library and keeps bringing her books is a God in her eyes. They have a lot of common topics for conversation, and she gets so carried away that she forgets their difference in social rank, and Laurent can just enjoy a lively conversation about books and history with an equal. Although one time he returned a book in a bad condition (knocked over a jar of water and spilled it over a book), and it nearly killed the librarian. She was visibly worried about letting him take any books from the library after that, and Laurent had to put some effort into regaining her trust.

-       He is also friends with an eccentric scientist guy, who is partly an engineer, partly physicist, partly traveler and cartographer. He travels so much and absorbs the cultures of the countries he visits so much that nobody is sure where he is from or where his home is. Damen and Laurent met him when he came to the court with some request about a permission to use some warehouse for an experiment or something like that, and they were like WTF? Why? So he started to explain and it turned out interesting and complicated and a bit crazy, but they did help him with an experiment, and he gave them some music machine as a gift, which was a huge hit at the court, and that’s how he became persona grata in the country, and every time he visits Delpha, he is invited to stay at the palace, and he has his own special premises for conducting his experiments, and a number of people working for him and taking care of his machines and other staff while he is away. Laurent and Damen give him money for his research, and support him in any way they can, and he shares all his inventions with them, and brings back books and other souvenirs from his travels, and they talk a lot about all sorts of ideas and inventions. He always invites them to go on his travels with him, and they always mean to do it one day, but only really manage to go in their old age, when their kingdom is safe and there are heirs to the throne who can safely take care of things while they are away discovering distant lands and their wonders.

[meet-me-at-kingsmeet]

Wedding Sabotage au Feat. Laurent and Nik teaming up

This is an outline of like????,,, one scene and yep lemme kno if u actaully would want this bc lmaoo......*wears sunglasses to hide the tears*

Auguste and Damen grew up together as friends and had brought the families together after a long time of low-key petty rivalry. Laurent grew up with Damen but was much younger than both Damen and Auguste. Damen had all the qualities of a hero from his books (that and he was *que 11 year old blushing smaurent* “super pretty”). Well this crush never went away, to Laurent’s dismay, because he knew Damen would always see him as a little kid.

Laurent was 19, turning 20, and finally going to try and tell Damen his feelings. To which gets stopped dead in his tracks when he comes home and Damen is there, sweetly tipsy with a beautiful blonde on his arm.

Laurent is very bitter, and after two years he is, how do you say, extremely bitter.

Laurent is at the engagement party for Damen and Jokaste.

He is standing next to Auguste, in a circle of party goers who are all celebrating and congratulating Damen

Laurent is in a particularly foul mood

Nikandros who is also in this small circle of “assholes” (as he would put it) he is also a very bitter best friend

Anyways Damen leaves to go find Jokaste (she walked away to talk to other guests or something) and he kisses Laurent on the cheek before leaving and drags Auguste with him

Laurent’s mood worsens,,,, he gotta fight w someone and Nik is the closest victim

Ahh Nik and Laurent what a relationship they have had

Nik has always been Damen’s like,, bff, and Laurent was more of a nuisance than anything

He was rude, uncaring of Nik, and would steal Damen away if given the opportunity. Nik knew he was a smart kid, but he was a snake

Laurent starts picking fights with Nik “Has Damen decided best man? I bet he has. It’s not you, his wedding needs to maintain sophistication and not have some poor, bankrupt businessman’s son represent the esteemed Theomedes name” or some rude bullshit like that

“Well I’ll just have to make sure you sit in the back Laurent, wouldn’t want a jealous, insecure child interrupting such an esteemed wedding”

A verbal (and very cruel) fight ensues

Laurent’s uncle comes up placing his hand on Laurent’s shoulder as is like “Laurent don’t make such a scene. These actions are why forming relationships with you is so difficult.” ((fuck the regent 5ever))

Laurent needs to breathe and heads to the restroom that’s in a separate hallway of Damen’s luxurious mansion

At the bathrooms he hears Jokaste and Kastor speaking in hushed tones so he creeps up to listen in and theyre standing very close

Staying stuff like “I know you’re upset, calm down, baby I’m handling this okay? This will work out if we stick with the plan and I marry Damen-” u kno crap like that and Laurent is like ‘this bitch wtf tryna fuck w my man aw hell nah’ but in a more laurent way

He’s actually really upset for Damen

He heads back to the party and is walking through the crowd, trying to find Damen

He gets turned around and is back where he came out that hallway and makes eye contact with Jokaste who was walking out with Kastor

His eyes narrow and Jokaste tries to keep her best poker face and goes over to talk to Laurent who is stiff

It’s one thing to fight with Nik, Damen knew they didn’t get along and he more saw it as harmless bickering, it was another to fight with Jokaste, and while Laurent had the tongue of a viper, Jokaste had the tongue of Laurent, but a mind similar to his Uncle’s (in the sense of control and manipulation) and she has six years of street smarts.

(I see Damen/Jokaste/Nik as all very street smart while Laurent is booksmart, which to me makes sense bc Laurent didn’t have a lot of social interaction when he was a teenager, besides manipulation and abuse)

But Damen appears out of nowhere, and Laurent can feel his heart hurt bc he spent 10 minutes looking for him, but when Jokaste appeared he was there, instantly, and Laurent couldn’t help but wonder what it was like to have someone like Damen love him. Being greeted with smiles and eyes full of love.

Now he was just pissed (both at Jokaste for ruining a good thing and at himself for having a dumb thought that anyone would love him even a fraction of what Damen felt for Jokaste)

Nik was at the lavish bar and his drink (a straight shot of Vodka) was set down, only to be lifted up and thrown back by Laurent who sat down

Que Nik’s super offended and annoyed with Laurent face (yes Laurent has earned his very own countenance on Nikandros’ face) (he’s almost proud)

“ You can’t hold your liquor, Laurent” “you can’t hold a relationship but I don’t say anything”

Anyways they start talking and slowly they both realize they don’t want Damen to marry Jokaste

“We break them up”

“You can’t be serious, Laurent”

“She isn’t good for him and we both know she’s fucking Kastor.”

“and Damen would never listen to us.”

Laurent nods and this “And he would never listen to us. Too blinded by loyalty and love. A dog won’t listen when you tell him to bite their owner even if their owner beats them.”

“Too loyal.” Laurent nods again at this and they’ve both relaxed together, probably for the first time forever. “I don’t want to hurt Damen. I just...want to protect him”

“Jokaste will hurt him.”

“So we’re forced to choose what kind of hurt he feels?”

“Not forced. We’re in the trolley dilemma. Let one person get hit or five?”

“Who does Damen represent? The one or the five?”

Laurent doesn’t have an answer for this. What he does know is that he needs to stop the wedding and end the engagement. But, he can’t do it alone, without Nikandros. (He could but the risk of failure or getting caught diminishes with Nikandros)

Laurent orders two shots, him and Nik hold them up to each other. A serious countenance on both their faces “To Damen,” Laurent says.

“To Damen,” and they hit their glasses together and throw back the vodka

Wedding Sabotage au---engagement party part 2ish??

Damen comes over, drunk and happy at the engagement party and drapes himself over Nik, making kissy faces, trying to kiss him because “c’mere Nikky I love you so much”

“Damen hi” Nikandros is tense and Laurent gives him the look, u kno the one that’s like ‘if you dont relax i’ll make u and it won’t be pleasant’

“I saw you guys throw some cheers and drink,” Damen is only slightly slurring, swaying, and doesn’t seem to want to go away anytime soon. “How could you without me?”

“We through cheers to you kiddo”

“To me?” Damen lets out a giggle along with a dopey grin. “You guys are,” Damen presses his face into Nik’s ((I have Nik and Damen headcanoned as affectionate in the same way that girls traditionally are)) “the greatest.”

Damen takes a breath and stares at Laurent while resting his face against Nikandros, who is holding him up and patting his shoulder

Laurent: “What, Damen?” his words are tense

“Nothing. I enjoy the feeling I get when I look at you”

Laurent’s brain is like: skjkdsfgjdfshbgdjvhdj,hbd

Sorry no, its more like: SJKSGDJHGHGJHGHFDHDJGDGHKDSJH

So he just doesn’t reply and turns away and Damen is just like “remember when you were a kid? Like seven, and you would beg for me to pick you up but once you were up you refused to be put back down?”

And laurent is like ‘oh my god are you really going to do this now??’ but he just looks back over at damen with furrowed eyebrows damen is just like

“You’re gonna find someone whose gonna want to pick you up and never put you down. Just like Auguste and I.”

And Laurent is now very done with life and getting hit w a bus doesnt seem all too bad so he goes to leave

But laurent is petty and lives for drama

So of course b4 he goes

He gracefully strides up to Nik and Damen, Damen smiles

Laurent grabs Nikandros’ face with one hand (Nik is wide eyed but cant do nothing cause his hands are full) and says seductively “My place at eight, tomorrow” and strides out of the mansion

As soon as he exits though he feels sick and hurt and wants to puke so he texts Auguste who comes out immediately “do you want me to stay home with you?” “No just drive me home and go back to the party. I need to be alone”

MEANWHILE lmao Damen is like “hahahaha thats *eye twitch* interesting ummm Nik???? That Laurent would say thay hahaa r u going on a date or soemthing?????”

And Nik is like “uuuuhhh maybe?” bc he is like ‘is this part of the plan or????’

Damen is NOT jealous

Except that he is and is no longer in the mood for cuddles

Damen “im not jealous but ummm, excuse me sweetie :) u cant date laurent”

Nik is just ????????

wants to go home he can’t handle these children and is very tired

[enochianess]

Green Is The Colour

Read on AO3

If you’d asked Laurent six months ago how he felt about heading to the gym, he would have scowled in your face and told you to fuck off. Now things have changed and he eagerly awaits the end of the working day so he can head off to Akielos Gym on the outskirts of the city. His membership costs him a pretty little penny, but it comes with some rather enticing benefits, not including the free access to the city pool.

On Friday night he walks into Akielos with a slight spring in his step, going so far as to smile at the receptionist as he walks past. He doesn’t need to show her his membership card; they all know exactly who he is by now.

He’s actually had a pretty good day at work for once and he’s still smiling as he puts all his work stuff away in one of the dark red lockers. He closes it firmly and turns to scan the room, his eyes catching on Nikandros who waves over someone’s shoulder and puts three fingers up: three minutes and they’ll start. Laurent walks over to the soft, black mats in the far corner to start stretching. He stares flatly out the window when he realizes that the person he was looking for isn’t there. He pretends that his heart doesn’t drop slightly.

Nikandros joins him a couple of minutes later, nodding at him rather than clapping him on the shoulder like he might have done with another customer; he knows Laurent isn’t a fan of casual touches.

“Treadmill?” Nikandros says.

Laurent nods and walks to the other side of the room, stretching his arms above his head before he steps up onto the machine.

“We’re going to do short bursts tonight. Okay?”

“Okay,” Laurent says.

“You’re going to run for one minute, as fast as you can, and then you’ll have two minutes to walk it off. We’re going to do that for twenty minutes, then I want you to run for the last ten minutes at whatever pace you need.”

Laurent is surprised by how good he feels after the first couple of intervals. He’s so much fitter now than he used to be; he never could have sustained a six-minute mile for a full minute before. When he looks up at the mirror he notices Nikandros smiling and nodding beside him. Laurent has to fight to keep his own smile in check. That is, until he spots a certain large individual—who he has been eagerly waiting to see all day—over his shoulder pressing someone down into the mats.

“You okay, man?” Nikandros asks.

Laurent shakes himself off and looks straight ahead again with a short nod. He remembers Damen doing that to him more than once, remembers how close it had made them, remembers that it'd made him hard. He doesn't like the thought of Damen doing the same thing with someone else.

He pushes even harder on the next minute, his eyebrows furrowing deeply with the effort. His legs are on fire and his abdomen aches as his stomach muscles contract sharply. He can’t help but notice when Damen stands up again, pulling a pretty blond-haired woman with him. She’s beautiful with delicate features and a slim but curvaceous body. She’s basically any man’s wet dream. She leans forward towards Damen and twirls her ponytail around her fingers. Damen is smiling widely at her as he talks, and then grabs hold of her shoulders. Laurent knows how tactile Damen is, how much he likes to make real, physical contact with the people he speaks to. That’s fine when it’s him or Nikandros or any of the other guys Laurent knows who works at the gym. Laurent does not know this woman though and he realizes that Damen would have to be blind not to see how attractive she is.

It takes Nikandros three times calling his name before Laurent drags his eyes away from them. They’re walking off to some of the other machines anyway.

“What?” Laurent says.

“Slow down. Your twenty minutes are up. Ten minute run now.”

Laurent does as he’s told, but he struggles to stick to the slower pace, too wound up. It’s not a big deal. At least, it shouldn’t be. Laurent has worked with a personal trainer for six months now; he knows how close and personal you sometimes get. Seeing Damen with that woman doesn’t mean anything. Damen is just doing his job. Laurent’s blood sizzles anyway.

“I love this song.” Nikandros says.

Laurent tilts his head slightly as he listens, then rolls his eyes. It’s Jealous by Nick Jonas because the world is mocking him. Yes, Laurent knows Damen is crazy sexy beautiful. Yes, Laurent does get jealous.

A couple of minutes later the blond woman gets on a treadmill a couple of machines down from Laurent’s own. He stares resolutely ahead, but his skin is tingling from just the knowledge that Damen is close by. He lets his gaze wander and then suddenly they’re locked with Damen’s in the mirror. Damen smiles widely at him and nods, but Laurent refuses to smile back. He’s annoyed with him. Damen tilts his head inquisitively and mouths an “Are you alright?” Laurent looks away, rolling his eyes when Nikandros smirks at him.

“Trouble in paradise?”

“Keep your nose out.”

“He’s still watching you.”

“Good. Let him look.”

Nikandros snorts and presses the cool down button on the treadmill. Laurent grabs hold of the handles as he slows to a fast walk. He looks up at Damen in the mirror again, a red-hot feeling jolting through him when he sees Damen’s hand on the woman’s back.

“Who’s that woman?” Laurent asks.

“With Damen?”

“Yes.”

“That’s Jokaste.”

Something drops like lead in Laurent’s stomach. It couldn’t be? Surely not. He's heard that name mentioned more than once by Damen and the anger it always brings forth rises again.

“He used to date her.” Nikandros fills in unhelpfully.

“Then what is he doing with her now?” Laurent snarls.

“She joined a couple of weeks ago.”

“Strange,” Laurent says as he steps off the treadmill. “Damen never mentioned it.”

“She’s his customer, Laurent. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Laurent takes a step closer to Nikandros and smiles nastily, “Then why didn’t he tell me about it?”

“Maybe because he thought you’d react like this.” Nikandros shrugs, seemingly immune to Laurent’s bad moods by now.

“Take over for him.”

“What?”

Laurent storms towards Damen and Jokaste, grabbing Damen’s wrist and dragging him down the room and into one of the bathrooms. Damen sputters out a couple of protests, but he doesn’t fight him.

“What the hell are you doing?” Damen asks when Laurent locks the door behind them. “I’m working!”

“Nikandros can finish where you left off.”

“Laurent, what’s going on?”

Laurent scowls and gives a light shove to Damen’s shoulder. Damen stares down at him, looking bewildered and slightly annoyed.

“You’re an asshole.” Laurent spits out, grabbing hold of the collar of Damen’s shirt so he can pull him down and press a hard, claiming kiss to his lips.

“What have I done?” Damen murmurs against Laurent’s mouth.

“Stop being stupid. It’s not attractive.”

Damen hums as he presses back into the kiss, pushing Laurent up against the bathroom door and grinding gently against him. Laurent allows it for a couple of minutes and then pushes Damen back again, his hands sliding from Damen’s chest and over his shoulders until they can clutch the back of his neck.

“You’re mine.”

Damen frowns.

“You’re mine, not hers. She had her chance and she fucked it up.”

“Is this about Jokaste?”

“No, it’s about Nikandros.”

Damen rolls his eyes and pinches Laurent’s hip. “Wiseass.”

“I don’t like you touching her.” Laurent says, leaning forward to press a series of hot kisses up Damen’s neck. “I don’t want you touching anyone but me.”

“It’s my job.” Damen says, his voice unsteady.

“You don’t have to touch her though.”

“She’s a customer.”

“Then give her to Nikandros, or Makedon, or one of the others.”

“It doesn’t mean anything. You’re the only one I want to touch like that. You know that, Laurent.”

Laurent looks up with a frown. “But she hurt you. How can you stand it?”

“I have a really long shower afterwards.” Damen says with a smirk.

Laurent shakes him slightly. “I’m serious.”

“Because I forgave her a long time ago, and it is my job, Laurent. I’m not going to treat her any differently because of what she’s done.”

“How can you forgive her? I don’t forgive her.”

“I’ve never been good at holding grudges,” Damen says, running a finger along Laurent’s cheekbone. “But thank you.”

“For what?”

“For caring enough to be angry for me.”

“Well you’re too stupid for it.”

Damen cradles Laurent’s face in his hands and leans down to brush their lips together. “I’ll ask Nikandros to take over her training. Will that make you feel better?”

“Mhm,” Laurent murmurs before biting down and tugging on Damen’s bottom lip. “Although you should stop training everyone else too if you can’t keep your hands to yourself.”

“Laurent,” Damen sighs. “It’s my—”

“I know, I know.” Laurent says with a roll of his eyes.

“How about I promise to make it up to you when we get home?”

Laurent quirks an eyebrow, “How?”

“I’m sure I can come up with a few ideas.” Damen whispers, pressing a hand against the slight bulge in Laurent’s blue shorts.

“Ah-ah,” Laurent gasps, rocking forward. “Why wait until we get home?”

Damen tuts.

“Please?”

“I’ve got one more customer. Why don’t you go home and get yourself ready for me? Hm?”

Laurent shudders, pressing up on his toes to press their lips together. He knots his fingers in Damen’s curls to stop him from pulling away and makes a soft sound of pleasure when Damen flicks his tongue out to trace the seam of his lips. Laurent opens his mouth to him immediately, moaning at the taste of the oranges Damen must have eaten recently. Damen hums in response, one hand leaving his waist to give a short squeeze to his ass. Laurent kisses him and kisses him and kisses him, small noises escaping him at the scorching touches Damen gives him.

Eventually Damen manages to tear himself away with a soft, “Later. I promise.”

“I-I haven’t finished my session with Nikandros.”

“Well since he’s with Jokaste now… do you maybe want to finish with me?”

Laurent looks up at him with a smirk and Damen swats his ass.

“I meant finish working out.” Damen clarifies with an amused grin.

“Are you sure Nikandros won’t kill us?”

“As long as we don’t start fucking in the middle of the gym, I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

“I can’t make any promises.”

“For that, I’m gonna have you doing bench presses for the next ten minutes.”

“I hate you.”

[cpshit]

Yet another of Laurent’s favorite annoying-Nikandros tactics:

He makes sure to get as sunburnt as possible whenever Nikandros is the one escorting him to the beaches. Like wriggles out of a grip to avoid sunscreen/escape the sun canopy and takes off running just so that Nikandros has to deliver Laurent to Damen all red and crispy, clearly having failed to keep him out of the sun.

[cpshit]

We love some emotionally intelligent Akielon nobles.

Laurent is…getting there.

[cpshit]

You guys liked my post about Laurent annoying Nik on purpose so here’s the first installment in what will be a series of all of Laurent’s many favorite ways to get on Nik’s nerves.

Mispronounces Akielon words, especially words having to do with Nikandros (like the names of his estates, his rank/title, or just things that Nikandros has corrected him on a million times already 🙄). It takes Nik longer than it should to figure out he’s doing it on purpose.

[cpshit]

EVEN more Things Laurent Does to Annoy Nikandros: Meal-Time Three-For

- Nik: Hey pass me the [food item or beverage].

Lau: Sure *takes bite or sip before handing it to Nik* here you go.

- Slurps his drink really loud when Nikandros is the only one close enough to hear him.

- Makes a big show out of enjoying the meal when something he knows Nikandros dislikes is served.

[cpshit]

Here’s the second installment in a series of Laurent’s many favorite ways to get on Nik’s nerves.

Laurent ever-so-gently runs into Nikandros whenever they’re riding in even relative proximity to one another. Oh, Nikandros is in sight? Better go out of my way just to run into him. Always says “oh sorry” so monotone afterwards and then does it again like 3 minutes later. Also does this while walking. As the Kyros of Ios, Nik by default is typically riding/processing to the front near the Kings, so there is really no avoiding this.

[laurent-ofvere]

i'm sort of curious about your fic writing process. what do you start with? how do you get through tough parts? do you edit/revise? how do you know if an idea is worth writing?

WHY DOES EVERY ANSWER I EVER GIVE TURN INTO AN ESSAY IM SO ANNOYING YOU DONT CARE THAT MUCH 

1. when i first started writing fic i would start wherever i wanted, i would put down a scene that was currently in my head and then work around that. now i typically make myself write in chronological order, tho im not entirely sure why i restrict myself to it. i think its bc my writing consistency/interest has gone down considerably, and unlike before im more likely to drop something in the middle, so i dont allow myself to jump the gun bc im afraid ill write the parts that interest me most, and then be more inclined to let the fic go bc i got the fun bits out of my system. (but! i daydream the fic completely out of order, and i have notes of random lines/scenes that will happen that can span the entire thing. its all out of order and basically in gibberish code and would make sense to no one but me)

2. depends what you mean by tough parts. if its tough bc its one of those parts you dont care about/enjoy but just gotta get through, i basically do just that. its like dragging my feet but it needs to be done. if you mean tough like the mechanics of it are tough to write, ill write whatever i can and then just drop it, probably read over non related scenes and work on those, then come back with a fresh perspective and see what new ideas come to me. kinda like taking study breaks? when you spend hours going over one thing and reach a point where you’re like “i know what i know and at this point im going in circles” so you break for a while and when you pick it back up you can absorb it differently. its like that but im producing instead of consuming. also, ill occasionally just rant my head off to someone (i have a specific person for this) even if shes not online, ill just word vomit everything im thinking about the scene/situation and essentially have a long conversation with myself, and she’ll either help work through it bc we’re very likeminded on capri or ill reach a point in my yelling where it just clicks. 

3. FUCK yes i do. my first drafts are absolute garbage, if for whatever reason i send someone new a draft i give a paragraph long disclaimer like “ignore this and this and this and this and ITS GONNA BE EDITED I PROMISE” technical edits aside, the first version of my fics are like the skeleton of the story. single lines become paragraphs, small things get fleshed out, details get added etc. i add something new every time i re read, and i do the thing mentioned above with tough parts where i let it chill untouched for a while and then come back with fresh edits (slight lie, i dont leave it alone that long anymore, bc impatient and careless) 

4. i mean, how do you ever know? i wont lie, knowing that there are people who are interested and hype for it makes it worth it, but i‘d never write something i dont personally care about just bc others do, so its a steady combination. but i know its really worth writing if i truly have fun with it, if it sparks joy, if i think about it sporadically, all that. the first thing i wrote for nikandros pining over laurent was with no intentions of being posted, i just couldn’t stop thinking about it and writing those feelings out was fun and cathartic. 

[nikanndros]

The Arranged Marriage AU Part 3 [Part 1, Part 2]

Before Auguste leaves back to Arles, he pulls Laurent into a lengthy hug. “Take heart, brother,” Auguste says. “I will work on convincing father to forgive you.”

“He has married me to off to some green Kyros, and banished me to this backwater fort.” That isn’t strictly true, Delfeur is a valuable section of land, but Laurent knows his father doesn’t intend for him to see it like that. “He will never forgive me.”

“He might,” Auguste insists. “Surely he has a plan. He hates Akielos as much as we do.”

It takes a lot for Laurent not to respond that perhaps their father just hates Laurent the same amount as he does Akielos.

Next, the Akielon royals return to their own capital and Laurent is left alone in the fort with his new husband. It becomes quickly clear that Nikandros doesn’t have much interest in Laurent at all, and Laurent begins to wonder whether the man is only interested in women, in the same way that Laurent is only interested in men. Perhaps this truly will be nothing more than a political marriage.

After a week of being left to his own devices, his husband finds him in the library, with another man in tow.

“Hello, Laurent,” the man says in Veretian. “I am Aktis. I grew up on the border, so I know some Veretian, and Kyros Nikandros has asked me to teach you Akielon.”

Laurent scowls. “I am a prince,” he replies, “My education warrants more than some inbred soldier whose only qualification is that he can bumble along in the slums of my language.”

Aktis shrugs and translates to Nikandros. He ends with “Your husband is a bitch, Kyros.”

Nikandros frowns. “Tell him I spoke to his brother, Prince Auguste, and he did nothing but praise Laurent’s intellect. Surely with his prince’s education, he has the wit to learn Akielon from a local soldier, who has better things to do than be insulted by a Veretian whelp.”

Aktis translates and Laurent sits back in his seat. He has never been spoken to like this before, excluding the case of his father. “I am a prince,” Laurent repeats. “Should my Kyros husband not be the one learning my language, in deference to my status?”

“I am also learning Veretian,” is Nikandros’ reply. “Half the fort speaks it. But you are Akielon now and if you ever want to travel outside this province, you should be able to speak to the men you meet. The choice is yours, Prince Laurent. I will not coddle you.” And then he leaves, as suddenly as he arrived.

-

Laurent goes into town the next day by himself, and meets a man at an inn. The man is completely unsuitable - a mercenary with ambiguous lineage, and a crass tongue, but he knows Akielon and Veretian. He’s stopping by here while on the run from his three lovers one town over, who just found out about each other. “Two were sisters,” Lazar tells him, shrugging and sipping his beer.

Uptight Nikandros is going to hate him. “Would you like a job?” Laurent asks. “My husband thinks I need a tutor - it’s all just a ruse really - and I’m sure he would love to pay you to sit around and pretend to teach me Akielon.”

“Can I drink?” Lazar asks.

“You can do what you want,” Laurent replies.

-

Nikandros gave Laurent his own quarters, so it is entirely possible for Laurent to go until dinner without seeing his husband if he sleeps in enough. They shared the bed on their wedding night, except Nikandros had come in after Laurent had fallen asleep, and Laurent had left before Nikandros had woken, so that hadn’t really counted for much.

Nikandros is displeased with Laurent’s choice of tutor, but he allows it. Laurent isn’t sure why he enjoys needling at Nikandros whenever he gets the chance, except that the only thing worse than being forcibly married to someone of a much lower rank, is being forcibly married to someone who is boring.

Laurent thinks it might be fun to annoy Nikandros into snapping - you can never quite tell the measure of a man until you’ve seen him truly angry.

Lazar is a good tutor in that he teaches Laurent a series of swear words in various languages, drinks a lot, and spends his free time trying to seduce various soldiers.

-

Laurent doesn’t have much to do during the days, as his husband sets him no tasks or duties. He spends a lot of time reading, and walking about the town, and faking language lessons, and then he eventually decides that even though his father took Laurent’s horse back to Arles - another act of spite - he should still be allowed to ride.

He goes to the stables and picks the horse that he knows is Nikandros’ favourite, sending the stable hand away so that he can saddle the creature himself.

Laurent doesn’t go far, but he stays out for a long time, because it feels good to pretend that he is riding back in Arles, perhaps leaving Auguste in the dust as usual. Riding is the only time he has ever really felt free. Horses are easy to love, and they are without hidden motives. Laurent sometimes wonders if the creatures feel like he does - someone who is meant to be wild,being forcibly tamed.

Nikandros is standing by the stables when Laurent returns, his long hair messily bundled at the back of his head. Laurent is beginning to suspect that Akielos hasn’t invented braiding yet. Nikandros gestures him over and Laurent wonders if he’ll be reprimanded for stealing his husband’s horse and disappearing. He wonders if Nikandros considered that Laurent might have run away.

“You ride... well,” is all that Nikandros ends up saying, in awkwardly halting Veretian.

Laurent watches him. It seems sincere. “Thank you,” he replies, in Akielon.

Nikandros nods and walks away.

-

He buys Laurent a horse.

“Technically,” Lazar translates uselessly for Nikandros, “It is a wedding gift from Prince Damianos. He didn’t know what to give you and so he left the choice up to Nikandros.”

“What did he get you, then?” Laurent asks his husband, pretending to trip over the Akielon.

“He said I deserved no gift,” Nikandros says, smiling wryly as he is translated, “as I was already getting a prize in you. You, on the other hand, apparently deserved some form of compensation.”

Laurent laughs. The horse is beautiful, a wonderful gift fit for a Prince, and Laurent allows himself to be openly happy about this one thing. Maybe he should be somewhat nicer to his husband.

-

He challenges Nikandros to a wager. They will study the other’s language for another month, and whoever is better by the end of it wins an unspecified favour from the other. It takes quite a bit of goading on Laurent’s part, as Nikandros is an honourable man and thus feels it more keenly to promise something like this.

When the month ends, Laurent wins. Of course he does.

“You sound like you’ve been speaking Akielon all your life.”

“Only since I was eight,” Laurent replies.

Nikandros frowns.

“Come now,” Laurent says, “It is easier to know what someone thinks of you if they also think you can’t understand them. I wanted to see who you were for myself.”

“I am someone who is displeased when people pretend to be what they are not.”

“Yes, that’s all very noble,” Laurent sighs, “but how was I to know that you weren’t going to brutalise me? I needed some kind of upper hand in case you turned out a beast.”

“Then I should be happy you’ve chosen to reveal yourself now?”

“I could have just kept pretending to slowly get better at the language.”

“Instead,” Nikandros says, still looking quite upset. “You engineered a wager so that I’d owe you something when I inevitably lost. How very Veretian.”

“I wasn’t being malicious,” Laurent insists. “I was just…” He doesn’t know what to say. He was in a situation where he had no control over himself and he wanted some modicum of power back. A ruse so that he could pretend at least a part of a - frankly terrifying- situation was his own doing.

Nikandros clenches his jaw, looking intense, and then the tension leaves his body, and he sighs. “No,” he says. “It’s irritating that we could have been talking for all this time, but it’s done now. I can’t get mad at you for behaving like a Veretian when that’s what you are.”

“That started off nice and then got worse the more you spoke,” Laurent replies.

“I just mean,” Nikandros says, “we’ve both been brought up in very different ways. Our cultures will probably clash a lot in this union. We’re going to have different values. It’s good that we can talk about it now.”

Laurent shrugs, feeling a little off balance. “Okay,” he says.

“What was the favour you were going to ask for?” Nikandros asks.

“Well obviously you don’t owe it to me now.”

Nikandros makes an impatient gesture for Laurent to go on.

“I was going to ask to be more involved in Delfeur’s politics. I find it tedious to have no duties here.”

Nikandros looks at Laurent incredulously, then he shakes his head and laughs softly. “Prince Laurent,” he says, “of course I intend for you to be involved. I just didn’t know how to make that happen when you couldn’t speak my language.”

“Ah,” Laurent says. Oops.

-

Makedon is the owner of Akielos’ largest private army. He is famous for being a bloodthirsty, warmonger in Vere, and Laurent has grown up with a sense of dislike for the man. It stands to reason, of course, that he is also a friend of Nikandros.

He arrives one evening, with absolutely no notice, and apparently has permission to go where he likes, as he appears while Nikandros and Laurent are about to sit down to dinner.

“Makedon!” Nikandros says, sounding pleased.

“I missed your wedding,” Makedon replies, and gruffly pushes a bottle of some kind of liquor into Nikandros’ hands. “Sicyon was having an issue with bandits and so I had to deal with that. I hear your husband is a pretty idiot.”

“Well,” Laurent drawls, from his place at the table. “At least people are saying I’m pretty.”

“Oh,” Makedon says. “He speaks the language! You’ve tamed him already.”

Nikandros shakes his head. “I haven’t even tried. I’d have more luck taming a feral cat.”

“Ha ha,” Makedon laughs and pats Nikandros on the shoulder with enough force that he has to take a step forward. “I’m staying for dinner.”

“Did you tell the servants that on your way in?”

Makedon sits down. “Of course.”

They are served their food and Makedon is a lively guest. He tells them a very colourful story on the aforementioned bandits that he had to deal with, and makes them all toast several times. Laurent hates it.

“Try some griva,” Makedon urges Nikandros, gesturing to the bottle he’d gifted him with. “It’s a wedding gift.”

“Would you like some, Laurent?” Nikandros says. “It’s about as flammable as you are.”

Laurent shrugs, and so Nikandros pours him and Makedon a small cup each.

“And one for yourself, Nik,” Makedon says.

“I’d sooner drink piss,” Nikandros says.

“Oh,” Laurent replies, sweetly. “I didn’t know you were into that. I might be able to oblige.”

“Ha ha!” Makedon says. “You have your options now!”

Nikandros smiles wryly, pouring himself a cup of griva. They drink.

Laurent coughs, and then swears violently in Veretian. Apparently curses were in Nikandros’ language lessons, as he laughs.

“You should have chosen piss,” Laurent says, grimacing. Drinking griva feels worse than he imagines eating glass would. It is absolutely horrible.

Nikandros pats his back sympathetically, an automatic gesture. It almost makes Laurent feel nice. “Makedon offered to train me, after I finished my service at the Kingsmeet,” Nikandros explains. “And we took care of some Vaskian raiders together, except more managed to get to our supplies the next night, and they took all of our food and water, and all we had left was a jug of griva that Makedon had fallen asleep clutching.”

Nikandros looks happy like this, comfortable in his new home, with his husband and his friend telling stories. His hair is out, loosely spilling across his shoulders in thick dark waves, and Laurent thinks he looks nice like this. He’s actually quite beautiful.

“Ha ha,” Makedon hits the table in a show of mirth. “He was younger than you are now, and he had to drink nothing but griva for two days until we found a stream. He was falling over drunk by the time we got to it.”

Nikandros cuts in, “And then we got to the stream and he pulled out a flask, and I asked what was in it and he said- ‘it’s water. Why did you want some?’.”

“I just wanted to see you lose that stupid serious look you always have on your face,” Makedon booms, laughing. “I thought some drink would help.”

“I didn’t think of that,” Laurent says, “Perhaps I should start getting you drunk, Nikandros.”

“Not now that I’ll suspect it,” Nikandros says. He has an arm casually across the back of Laurent’s chair and Laurent doesn’t know if it’s more noticeable for him to lean against it or not.

Laurent smiles. “You’re right. I’ll think of something worse.” And then he laughs when his husband groans dramatically.

-

He learns some things about Nikandros.

He is not an unhappy person, despite his typically serious countenance. He is a man of action, and when problems arise, he seems intent on solving them immediately. Laurent likes that. The people of Delfeur - no, it’s Delpha now - come to Nikandros with their problems and he listens intently and then solves it without complaint.

Nikandros sees Laurent watching these proceedings from the sidelines, and after that he starts asking Laurent his opinions on different things. It turns out that for governing Delpha, it is useful to have both a Veretian and an Akielon there to fully understand what’s going on.

Somewhere along the way, it appears, Nikandros also has noticed what foods Laurent does and doesn’t like at the dinner table, and now it is common to go an entire meal where Laurent is happy to eat everything presented to him. It happens so subtly, that Laurent almost misses it. This is the strangest revelation of all - Nikandros is noticing him, and silently trying to make his life easier.

Nikandros is also, the people seem to think, very attractive. Laurent supposes he can see it - in his broad shoulders and dark eyelashes, in his wry smile and voluminous hair. But there’s also something else about him. Laurent watches his husband carefully in the courtyard one morning, practicing swords with a few of the soldiers.

He is a great swordsman, but what is more noticeable is the way some of the soldiers look at him, swaying towards him rather than away from his blade. Laurent frowns as he watches Nikandros help a boy adjust his stance.

“You are very lucky, yes?”

Laurent looks beside him. “Ah, Pallas,” Laurent greets him. “What can I do for you?”

Pallas is one of the few Akielons that Laurent actually likes. He is maybe a year younger than Laurent and about a foot taller than him. Laurent once saw him tell off one of the older soldiers for saying some very unflattering things about Laurent. Pallas had been less offended about what the soldier had been saying, and more upset that Laurent didn’t understand the language enough to defend himself. It had been sweet.

“I see you admiring the Kyros,” Pallas says. He had laughed and called Laurent sneaky when he’d revealed that he actually can speak Akielon. “He is very handsome, and kind. You are lucky.”

“I suppose,” Laurent says, frowning.

-

Laurent looks up when Nikandros enters the stables. It is dusk, and Laurent has just finished a long ride out through the nearby woods. He only came in once the sky got dark enough for it to be unsafe to continue on.

“Ah,” Nikandros says, looking pleased. “I thought I might find you here.”

Laurent is in the middle of brushing his horse down, but he stops to give Nikandros his full attention. Laurent smiles. “You were looking for me?” He doesn’t know why the idea of that makes him happy; except it is unusual for Nikandros to seek him out.

Nikandros looks strangely at Laurent for a moment, and then he says, as if shocked: “Your hair looks nice.”

“Thank you,” Laurent says. “In Vere, we’ve invented these devices called combs and they’re very useful.”

Nikandros laughs and rolls his eyes. “Yes, okay. Will you come inside with me?”

Laurent says goodbye to his horse and follows.

“I could teach you how to do it,” Laurent says, walking alongside his husband.

“Do what?” Nikandros asks.

“Braids. In your hair. It’ll put it out of your way when you duel.”

“Sure,” Nikandros says. He opens the door and let’s Laurent pass through first. “I’d like for us to spend more time together.”

“Oh,” Laurent says, pleased.

Nikandros clears his throat. “I actually called you in because a letter arrived for you.”

That is enough to get Laurent’s heart racing. He hasn’t heard from any of his family since his wedding months ago, and he’s been fairly sure that that is because of his father. But maybe a letter has gotten through, or Auguste figured out his weren’t getting sent and found someone else or-

Nikandros hands him the paper.

It’s a letter, from the King of Vere. Laurent looks at the wax seal for a long moment before he retreats into his room to read it by the candle light. He should deal with this alone, he has no idea what his father might have to say, and he doesn’t want Nikandros to get a glimpse of the shameful distaste his father has in him.

My son, the letter begins, I hope you are well. Laurent scoffs and reads on.

I am sure the Akielon heat is doing you good; I remember you were often sick during winter as a child. You should write more often, your mother longs for updates of your life. She wants to know that you are getting along well with your new husband. Your happiness is very important to us, and we hope to see you again soon.

His father was never very good at letters; and there is no world in which he would write casually just to check up on his son. Laurent looks at the words again. He can see the subtext - his father has never been particularly good at obscuring his meanings. This letter is a promise. His father has a plan, and if Laurent ever wants to come home and see his mother again, he has to make sure his new husband is happy with him.

Carefully, Laurent touches the edge of the paper to the candle and watches it burn down until the flames threaten to lick at his fingers, and he drops it into a cup of water.

The worst thing is that he had already been doing what his father wanted, before he was told to do it. He has been getting along with Nikandros, and learning to… find a certain fondness for the man and his stoic nature. But the idea that this is something that he is to do for his country doesn’t sit right. Laurent thinks about locking himself inside his rooms until Nikandros gets tired of being chivalrous and friendly, and finds some lover to turn Laurent aside for. Then he thinks of his mother’s smiling face, and the way Auguste ruffles his hair, and-

It is no choice, really. And is it actually such an awful request? With Nikandros’ favour, and his father’s debt to him, perhaps Laurent can manipulate a trip to Arles for them, or invite Auguste to come to Delfeur. Nikandros may even be happier to feel like he has the affection of his own husband.

-

Laurent knocks on Nikandros’ door, and then opens it. His husband is in the sitting room, looking over papers. He looks tired. “Can I come in?” Laurent asks.

“Of course,” Nikandros says, and he moves some papers aside so that Laurent can sit on the couch beside him. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes,” Laurent says. “I just wanted the company. You’re working very late.”

Nikandros hums in agreement. “Sometimes there seems to be more problems than solutions in this province.”

Laurent carefully takes the document he is holding out of his hands and sets it on the table with the rest. “Perhaps clear eyes tomorrow will find the solution.”

Nikandros sighs and leans back in his seat, head resting against the backrest, eyes closed. Laurent thinks that when they first met, Nikandros would have never imagined letting his guard down in front of him like this. They truly have grown a semblance of camaraderie.

“I noticed the letter was from your father,” Nikandros says. “Is everything alright?”

He’s either fishing for information or noticed how unusual it is for Laurent to get correspondence. “Everything is fine,” Laurent says, and then he softens his voice so that it is vulnerable. “Everyone is fine without me. I don’t know what I expected.”

Nikandros opens his eyes to look at Laurent. “Are you alright?”

Laurent turns his head away. “Yes,” he says.

He can feel the movement of the couch, Nikandros leaning towards him, attentive to the melancholy in his voice. This feels manipulative, dirty.

“Laurent,” Nikandros says. “I might be able to arrange a visit for you, if you think it won’t upset your father. It’s not unusual for spouses to visit their families after the wedding.”

Nikandros is a good person. It is very awful that Laurent is being forced to stay in the presence of someone who is good. Laurent is not good: he is a manipulator with hidden agendas. “My father would be displeased. He sent me away; he is happier without me.”

“I am sorry,” Nikandros says.

Laurent looks at him. His expression is concerned, his body language focused entirely on Laurent. “Do I displease you?” Laurent asks in a burst.

Nikandros sits back slightly. “What?” he says, and then controls himself. “No. You are lovely. If you sense displeasure, it is only in our situation.”

“Of course,” Laurent replies. “I know I am difficult to find affection for.”

“No,” Nikandros says again. His brow is furrowed. He is frustrated at Laurent misunderstanding him. “You’re not. What I meant, was that I don’t like that we’ve been forced into this marriage. That we couldn’t choose it. I do like you.”

Laurent kisses him. It is quick, just pressure between mouths. Nikandros pulls back and looks at him.

“You want this?” Nikandros asks, disbelieving.

“Yes,” Laurent says. He looks him in the eyes and tries to project a confidence he doesn’t feel. “You are my husband. I want us to be happy.”

Nikandros is the one who kisses him, this time.

-

Nikandros gestures at the oil and then himself. “Do you want to or should I?”

Laurent pauses. “Oh,” he says. “I assumed you’d want to fuck me.”

Nikandros’ brow furrows. “But you are a Prince.”

Laurent looks at him. “Do you people dictate your bedding positions based on your court positions?”

“It’s proper,” Nikandros says. “This is not the kind of cultural differences I expected.”

“Fuck proper,” Laurent replies, “and fuck me properly.”

-

Laurent’s mind is like an interlocking series of chains, thoughts running in every direction and sometimes bundling together and knotting. Nikandros’ mind, Laurent thinks, is more like a storage room full of carefully labelled crates. Almost everything Nikandros does is orderly and planned.

He wakes up early, Laurent learns this now that they share a bed most nights. He trains and works out in the mornings, when dawn has barely broken, then he bathes, then he returns to his rooms to eat breakfast and read over any mail or documents relevant to his day. Next, Nikandros will typically head in to the town, where he’ll check with the military men if they have any issues, and then the town hall to do the same with the common people. He normally eats lunch in town, in an inn where he can be available for any one else to come to him with queries.

Afternoons are set aside for one of three things: either pouring over documents and missives, solving whatever problems the people have brought him for the day, or going for rides on his horse. Laurent doesn’t know where he goes when he takes the third option, as he hasn’t offered to join him yet.

The evenings, Nikandros has taken to setting aside completely for Laurent. Over dinner, he will inquire about Laurent’s day and his plans for the next day. He’ll ask if there’s anything Laurent wants that can be provided. Laurent tries very hard not to feel like another issue in the list; like the soldiers and the townspeople. It’s just how Nikandros’ mind works.

After dinner, they typically retire together. Sometimes to read in companionable silence, or for Nikandros to pick Laurent’s brain for solutions that he hasn’t thought of. And sometimes, they’ll go to bed together and have sex. This is quickly turning into Laurent’s favourite option.

During sex, it turns out, is the only time that Laurent finds himself able to give up the full control he has on his body and mind. It is the only time when he can let himself be at the whim of someone else, and Nikandros is as attentive in bed as he is in his daily life.

-

“There is something I don’t understand,” Nikandros says one evening, while Laurent is still trying to catch his breath. His husband has quite the amount of stamina.

“I dare say,” Laurent replies, “there are quite a few things you don’t understand.”

“Cheeky,” Nikandros replies, lightly slapping Laurent’s bare thigh in retaliation.

“Mmm,” Laurent murmurs. “I’d prefer it if the hitting came before we fucked rather than after, husband.”

Nikandros gives Laurent a look, the kind of look that says he’s committing that sentence to memory so he can act on it later. Laurent finds it hard to ask for things in bed, but Nikandros seems to understand that - and so when Laurent makes half jokes like this, he takes them at face value. It works for them.

“I don’t understand why your father let you marry me,” Nikandros says.

Laurent frowns. “My father decided that war wasn’t worth the cost to our people, and we made an alliance.”

“Well yes,” Nikandros says. “But your father fought us so much on other things in the negotiations, and then when it came to the subject of your marriage, he accepted the first offer King Theomedes gave. Aleron could have negotiated to wed you to Kastor, at least.”

“You aren’t such a bad offer. Give yourself a little credit.”

“I’m a new kyros with barely any political standing,” Nikandros replies. “You’re the Prince of Vere.”

“I’m so glad that you’re aware that you married up. It’s hardly bedtime conversation though.”

“Really, Laurent, what was your father thinking? It concerns me to think there could be something I’m not seeing; that my feelings for you are blinding me.”

Laurent likes to think that he is not so soft that the mention of feelings affects him, but… “My father doesn’t care for me. He and I have different opinions on a lot of things, and we clashed a lot. Then I- This is very vague isn’t?”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Nikandros says, “if it troubles you.”

“I did something that upset my father,” Laurent says, quickly. “And now he hates me. He gave me to you partly because he wanted to hurt me, and partly because he wanted rid of me.” And partly because he wants Laurent to have Nikandros’ regard for some reason, but Laurent can’t admit that.

“Do you regret what you did?”

Laurent breathes. “No,” he says, finally.

Nikandros is quiet for a moment, then in a much more bearable tone, he asks, “Would you like to come with me to Ios next month? Theomedes-Exalted is hosting a tournament.”

If Nikandros had asked even a month ago, Laurent would have said no. As it is, he has no desire to immerse himself in the Akielon culture. But. The Akielons have been nothing but respectful to him, and he’s gotten used to sharing a bed at night. “Okay,” Laurent replies. “Let’s go to Ios.”