[ He needs so little encouraging to succumb to Louis's gentle, patient strokes. Everything is just too sensual in the moment: his husband's hair tickling his neck, deep voice gone soft and warm like golden honey in his ear, feather-light kisses all over his face — just the sight of him, glimpses of his pretty lips and jawline moving over Will's body — and, oh, that steady tugging and pulling and rubbing and smearing over his hot, hard cock —
How could he possibly resist? The sinfully perfect demon on top of him is promising to make him come again and again, and even King Wilhelm is only a man like all other men, in the end. It feels so good to give in to his consort's ministrations, coming hard and without hesitation right into Louis's hold; his mind goes wonderfully blank, in that beautiful way he only feels when Louis is the one touching him, tending to him, bringing him pleasure. Will is shaking as he comes down from the high, slim body arched in surrender, nipples peaked and pointed from the way Louis has tugged at them.
The look in his pretty blue eyes is blissful and blank; the royal seed staining Louis's fingers, thick and rich in a way that belies the way he's been waiting for Louis all this time. ]
Ah... oh, Louis...
[ Calling his name, so softly and desperately, as if offering a prayer to the one man who knows him best. ]
So good...
[ Blearily, Will reaches out to stroke his fingers down Louis's jawline. ]
I'm fine, you can... keep going...
[ There's a touch of desperation underlying his voice that gives away what his real game is, here. Oh, no, this isn't about him being "fine" — this is about him wanting. Craving. Needing to make up for all those days he didn't come down to Louis's room to paw at him after he'd just gotten out of the bath, even though he would have been well within his rights to, as the country's king. Making him come once won't be enough to satisfy him, not at all — though he is, unmistakably, satisfied. ]
[ so much brimming desire for such a small thing, Louis hardly knows how he kept it all in. he may have a short stature, but Will is relentless when it comes to the pursuit of something that he wants, and he knows that there is much, much more to come.
the arm around Will's shoulders turns him inward for a kiss, light, but promising, as if he's bringing him back from that blissful look. Will has a regal way about him, but Louis thinks he looks especially kingly with his clothes off, arched in his hands with his hair spilling behind him. something divine for him to devour. ]
Oh? I wonder how many times it will take to sate you.
[ Louis strokes him lazily, as if he's trying to urge every last drop from the king's cock. his fingers rest when he goes soft again, slick with cum and resting just above his thigh without a care to how sticky he may get. ]
Two times more? Five times?
[ there's a tease to his voice, playful in tone. ]
Rest, and then touch yourself for me.
[ he rests his head carefully against the bed, as his horns are still attached to his head. they'll come off eventually, but there's no need to rush. he knows that Will likes them.
there's something thrilling about the prospect of having a show when he's this close to the king, their bodies pressed together in some places, hair twine together in others. Louis has his arm slung beneath him, ready to pull him closer whenever he likes. ]
[ At least seven, Will wants to say as a joke. (It's not a joke.) He sinks into Louis's kiss gratefully. The young king really is beautiful like this, all silver hair and lovely blue eyes, still full of vivid purity despite basking deep in sexual pleasure. How many times has Louis had him before? Yet somehow he still manages to look innocent, pillowed out against the sheets, tan skin contrasting wonderfully against the white fabric. He looks like something that Louis could defile, all smooth supple body, glazed slightly with cum where Louis's hand is resting near his hip.
For a moment, Will just breathes slowly and quietly, indulgent in the come-down, tingling pleasantly through the aftershocks of his orgasm. He turns his head to kiss Louis one more time, slow and sweet, luxuriating in how good he feels, how boneless. His newly-wedded husband's warmth and tender attention. The feeling of his firm, well-developed body against Will's soft, slender one is impossibly intoxicating.
For a long time now, Louis has not had eyes for anyone in the world save Will. Being the subject of that intense focus is overwhelming at times, but so satisfying, too.
Will does like the horns. Very much. He knows full well that his husband is another elda like himself — but even so, he likes the horns. He eyes them greedily as he seems to just stop and take in Louis, the whole of him, how beautiful he is, how attentive. Features more divine than any other man's, as if some great enemy of the Sanctist God thought it would be laughable to make him so beautiful as to tempt others toward damnation.
Mine, Will thinks.
When he feels like his cock might be able to stir once more, Will reaches down between his legs and tugs lazily at it until it slowly hardens, flourishing under his light touch. He seems to need a firmer touch with himself than he needs with Louis; in their previous trysts it was as though he only needed the lightest touch from Louis's palm to get going, but now he rubs himself vigorously, eagerly. The formerly sweet, undefiled prince is quickly growing into a more lecherous king by the minute.
Gazing lovingly into Louis's eyes, Will pleasures himself until his erection is full and hard once more, as if the sight of his consort's body in the nude is all he needs to spur his imagination onward. ]
[ it seems the more Louis is intent on defiling him, the more lecherous the young king becomes, as if he's a step ahead in his appetites, ready and willing. there's something charming about this, about how Will is so adamant in what he wants when it comes to Louis, and Louis who feels like doing nothing but indulging his king.
(perhaps he should feel more sore about that, but he doesn't. he can't find it in him to have any ill feelings toward will. he won; he was the better candidate. Louis never wanted to rule, even if he had a gift for politics and pretty speeches. no, he wanted to destroy.
now, though – now, what does he want?)
it's easy to press against Will, to coil his arm around his middle and press him closer, closer, closer. perhaps he will not be satisfied until they're touching from all angles, across the span of their bare skin, every nook filled. his bright eyes watch, attentive to Will's movements, half-lidded and heated, with his breath long and steady.
there's a moment before he responds, as if he's thinking through his own brief, limited sexual encounters. ]
Perhaps I do.
[ Will's swift, soft hands, grip tight as if he's holding a blade. yes, perhaps he really does like to watch.
his hand rests close to where Will is touching himself, just within the vicinity to offer contact, but he makes no more to join him. not yet, at least. Louis presses a kiss to his temple, lips parted and wet, then his cheek, the corner of his lips. the contact feels good. finally, his fingers crawl down the cleft of Will's thigh and between his legs, pressing gently to his opening. ]
But I also may not be able to help myself ...
[ Louis suddenly feels like there's so much of Will he hasn't touched – it's different now, not quite, but in some ways. a different Will, but the same, ready to be touched. ]
[ There's something wonderfully intimate about this. Louis by his side, curling around him, pressing more and more and more skin against his, as if the contact alone gives Louis pleasure, and he's addicted to Will's electrifying touch.
Lazily, languidly, Will turns his head and kisses Louis as he tugs at himself. There's something about kissing that makes his the movements of his wrist slow down; his hand stills further as Louis's much larger hand joins it between his legs, only Louis's destination seems lower, closer to his more secret places.
Will's breath catches in his throat when Louis's fingers touch his opening, but then he doesn't press in. The king tries to keep his expression neutral, but it's clear that he's expecting more; at the same time, he's expecting this, too. Louis is cruel, and a tease. Of course he'd make Will wait. ]
Then give in to your impulses.
[ So soft, so simple, so unadorned. Will always has the simplest advice, in the way that most of the people he knows only need very simple advice in the end. Only — it's not quite advice that Louis needs in the moment, is it? ]
[ Will is soft, especially in the places that Louis rests his hand. the skin at the cleft of his thigh, further between his legs, along the spot from his opening to where he's touching himself. the young king has always been soft to the touch, but even softer in other places that somehow feel new, even though they are very, very familiar. Louis is aware that Will wants more, and he'll be unsurprising if he turns him over and claims it, even if he's enjoying the touch now. there's little gasps, quiet sighs, all pleasing to his ears.
his hands are big enough that his fingers can curl between his legs, slide along the inside of his thigh and cup it against his palm. with a low hum, Louis, somehow, presses closer, the line of his body against Will's, his hard cock pressed up against his hip. Louis rolls against him lazily, heated and heavy. with some curiosity he fondles his balls against fingertips; they're soft, too. ]
You're so impatient, Your Majesty.
[ the words are warm, fond, but teasing. ]
... And your body is quite sensitive. Has it been waiting for me?
[ there had been longing, for months there had been longing, but it's over now. Louis finds he likes the idea of Will thinking about him in this room, before the waking hours, aching and lustful.
pointedly, he rolls from his spot at Will's side, and on top of him, his hair falling like a veil over them. now it feels as if the heat is purely between them, and their lips brush together as Louis speaks. ]
And all those impulses you crave?
[ sweet, sweet heat. he can feel it in his belly, and in his loins. Will wasn't the only one longing those months, either. ]
[ Oh, he's longed. He's longed so, so much, and been so patient. Didn't even touch himself, even when Louis left him helpless and horny in his sickbed after a night of healing; didn't even think about succumbing to the temptation of coming down to Louis's room for a pre-conjugal visit, even though, as the king, he could have probably gotten away with something so scandalous.
There would have been a joy in that, too. In indulging in the sin of falling, immorally, into Louis Guiabern's bed once more. But — ]
I couldn't. I needed you.
[ Needed his love. Needed that love to be freely given. Needed Louis here because he wanted to be, in body and soul, and not just because he'd been swayed by the temptations of carnal pleasure. ]
Needed you here with me... touching me, seeing me...
[ His eyes are only on Louis; his cock and his belly and his hole are all alight with the fires of pleasure, and he needs more of Louis's touch, more of Louis's kisses. Even so, Will still sounds steady as he touches Louis's face and whispers: ]
Thinking only about me.
[ Oh, yes, he's impatient. So, so impatient, even as Louis sates him, straddles him, touching between his legs, his smooth thighs, his soft balls. Everything. The more Louis touches his body, the more Will's eyes glaze over, his gaze focused solely on Louis — his face, his body, his beautiful hair falling like a silk curtain around their faces. The alabaster column of his neck. ]
[ Louis is – was, more accurately – someone who had been so painfully used to being alone, that he forgotten how to hold people close. it's surprising to him how easily he falls into it, as Will spreads himself open and murmurs to him in this quiet bedroom, how he believes it. a year ago the young king had won on his own terms, as well as on Louis' terms, and now there's nothing left but for Louis to believe him.
long ago he would've cursed himself for abandoning his ideals, but that past self never knew the warmth that came with Will's arms, even if he had imagined it.
then a part of him had been afraid that their relationship would become something that he could not control, that would turn him from his ideals. and so he never removed all of his clothing, never showed his heart, because in it, Will would have the advantage; he would know that he could be swayed. now, it doesn't feel so bad being swayed.
the king is pleading and glassy eyed, whispering about need in the heat between them. he feels heady on the sudden feeling of intimacy, and though they've done this before, it also feels as if they haven't. not like this. ]
You don't need to need me anymore. You have me. Allow me to show you how much.
[ have, now, and had, in the past. he had been desperate during their last confrontation, lost in loneliness and desire.
this desire feels far better, though.
somehow, he finds the little bottle rolling around on the mattress with them. there are wet fingers that press into him, stretching gently, but finding that Will is already relaxed and ready – that he most likely has been for the last week in anticipation. Louis was going to wait a little while longer, but how could he not be seduced by such sweet words? they have all night, and he's certain that this won't be the time that purely settles Will in for the evening.
his hand finds his cock, dragging along the length to keep himself slick, it would be a shame if a bit of friction turned painful. balancing on an arm above his new husband, he presses into his entrance, then inside, keeping his hips steady to take in the heat that suddenly envelopes him. the arm that he once adjusted himself with slides under Will's hips, arching him upward as he presses the rest of his body down to keep their skin pressed together. ]
[ It's so, so easy that Will is almost ashamed of himself. The way Louis's fingers just slip in, the way his cock presses deeper, utterly painless given how much Will's wanted this beyond all reason. Will gasps because Louis's cock takes his breath away, spreading his insides apart and hilting right where he likes it the most; he thinks he hears Louis's breath stutter, too, as the man is overwhelmed by his king's wet heat. One arm lifts his hips upward from below, arching his spine, pushing Louis in even deeper; it makes Will feel deliciously safe, like he was made to be Louis's lover.
So warm. So sheltering, weighted above him, pinning him to the bed. It's funny, really — this isn't Louis's first time being inside Will — but somehow the king feels as though it's their first time making love like this. Is it the intimacy? The realness of it — the fact that neither of them are now wearing masks, and they no longer have reasons to lie to one another? Or is it just that tonight is their wedding night, and no one, no church or Sanctifex or God, could possibly forbid them now from joining in sacred union? ]
Oh...
[ Will's breath leaves him in a worshipful gasp. He holds Louis tightly in his arms, pulls him closer so he doesn't have to feel that clawing loneliness anymore. He wants Louis to think of nothing but how tight and slick he is, how his small body yields to Louis's large cock, how his soft lips are open for more kisses, how his arms drape around his lover's neck.
It's even better when Louis moves in a way that maximizes their contact, as if he can't abide even the slightest bit of distance between their bodies in this moment. Will understands; he needs to feel Louis's body pressed up against his, too, as he takes deep breaths and adjusts to the heat and the stretch and the pleasure of having his husband inside of him. ]
I... [ A shaky breath. ] I dreamt about this for so long...
[ through the months he knew he had missed Will's body, but he did not know just how much he missed Will's body until he was inside of him. Louis sinks further, into Will's welcoming embrace, listening to the soft moans and whispers of want, the way his arms loop over his shoulders and pull him closer, and then when they were close, somehow closer still. Louis finds that he doesn't want Will, but he wants him desperately.
there was some thrill when they were meeting during their feud that it was something dangerous and sinful, both of them aware that their tryst would end in tragedy. the times are gone in fine pathways of smoke, dissipating in the air, even as the candle burns still. now, there were no lies between them, just the beautiful and horrid truths that they had perpetuated on one another. somehow, that just makes Louis feel even stronger toward his king, that despite all of that ugliness, they were here together, still. ]
It's upon you. I'm here.
[ he says it as if he has to confirm it for himself.
for all of their couplings that had been heady and brimmed with desperation, Louis seems more language, as if he was gripped with something that wished to draw this out as long as he could. his hips move slow, a first, long thrust, a steady roll into his lover. each breath that comes from his parted lips is long, drawn in, slow to release. the place between Will's legs is warm, and he'd like to stay as long as he can.
his other hand pulls up Will's thigh until it grazes his waist, until they're close enough that he can feel his heart press into the embrace of his husband.
under the drape of his hair, he presses his mouth to Will's face, uncaring of whether or not he finds his lips. he does, eventually, and when he does he holds him there until they're both gasping for breath. ]
[ There's a part of Will that feels desire to the point of madness. He tries to rein it in, but Louis's cock feels so good that he almost wants to get up, push Louis down, ride him stupid, grind into his cock until he comes again and again and again. He wants to take Louis to the very depths of mind-numbing pleasure; he wants to taste that mind-numbing pleasure, himself.
But the king won't do this, because he isn't selfish, and he can sense that it's not what Louis needs in the moment. Will needs this, himself: needs to sit, kissed breathless and dizzy, connected to his one true love, his archenemy and rival and destiny all in one person. He wants it fast fast fast and Louis moves slow, slow, slow — so slow that it makes Will shudder and ache and fall deeper and deeper in love. He loves the feel of it, the stretch, the throbbing heat inside of him. He loves the fact that he can feel and hear each of Louis's long breaths, sense just how relaxed he is despite the tension of arousal. He loves feeling the soft thumping beat of Louis's heart against his chest. ]
Louis...
[ Saying his name just to say it. Saying his name just to hear it. Every sensation coursing through Will's body right now is so intense that he almost feels dizzy with the potency of it. Dazed, sinking into Louis's infinite patience, Will wraps his arms tightly around Louis's broad shoulders and whispers: ]
...I love you.
[ No matter how much he says it, it feels like it isn't enough. Aching, squeezing down on Louis's cock even as he tries not to, Will's palms press down between Louis's shoulderblades, as if to cradle his heart through his back. ]
[ each movement is long, drawn out, slow and indulgent. there's suddenly so much to make up for, all the time they hadn't coupled from when Will had left for the Dragon Temple until Louis had returned from the dead – it feels like experience missed, somehow. he wants to be here with Will, much like they were at the eldan temple among the flowers. there's something in this that reaches inside of him and cradles his heart, a rare, beautiful thing that fills him up and reminds him that he is not carved purely out of loneliness.
he's met with Will's slick heat, hands wandering his back and soft murmurs of love and waiting that are breathless in his ear. what a delicate thing, love, and the shape the word makes on his mouth. Louis captures the edge of it, kissing him sweetly as if he could swallow the word itself and keep it hidden away. when Will squeezes him he chokes, and he picks up his pace, presses deep and pulls back, again and again. ]
... I love you too.
[ the words come out of his lips in a long breath, as if he tries to grasp just what that means – the depth itself not something he can find his own words for. it seems to come easier to Will, who loves so freely and deeply, as if it were purely something in his nature; the two of them couldn't have ended up more different. instead Louis' arms pull him closer, tighter, grasping onto him desperately like he never had when they met and parted on the Charadrius.
then he was certain that they were going to kill each other. that's how it was supposed to end. instead here he was, cradled in the soft arms of the prince – now king – that he had once seen in the hallways of the palace.
Louis presses their foreheads together, keeping the heat of their mingled breath between the two of them. the arm around Will's waist tightens, and Louis rolls back onto his hips, pulling Will upright with him until he's leaning into his lap. he holds himself upright on an arm, fingers grasping at the sheets as he finds a new angle to thrust into him, dragging his hips down and up again to go as deep as Will wants. the pace gets faster, but still just as smoldering. Will looks good in the sheets, and just as good spread over his lap with his legs apart, and the shape of his cock pressed against him. Louis never goes far, their faces brushing cheeks or pressed together at the bridge of the nose, desperate to keep the heat between them, as if it were theirs and theirs alone. ]
[ It's too much and it's not enough at the same time. They're so close, so close that Will feels Louis more than he sees him, cradled by his body, rocked by his warmth. He lifts his hips and brings them down again, just to feel how thoroughly Louis fills him; he's never felt more connected to his lover than this. He feels as if he can read Louis's intentions from every subtle shift in his breath and body, every warm kiss and slow, indulgent thrust.
He likes this. They both do.
When Louis says he loves Will, for the first time — that makes the young king so happy that an ecstatic moan slips past his lips, and then he's pulled closer, in for another kiss.
He almost forgets how beautiful Louis is until his new husband leans back, holding his weight on his hips and left arm, keeping his right hand on Will's lower back to roll into him with quick short thrusts that have Will bouncing and rocking with Louis's cock pressing over and over and over into his sweet spot. It's good, it's good, and what's even better is that Will can take in Louis's beauty like this. That Louis is ethereally handsome was never in doubt — Will can't help but think that he would have fallen in love with Louis even if the man were not so divinely beautiful, on account of the way that fate entangled their destinies together and made them archenemies, now turned lovers — but being able to see the glorious perfection of Louis's body rocking into his makes Will tighten, gasping, as fresh desire surges through him and brings the building tension inside of his body closer and closer to climax again. ]
Ah — Louis, Louis...
[ He calls Louis's names as if begging for a savior. It's addictive, the way Louis pulls him still closer, as if any distance between their bodies is utterly unacceptable. ]
You're so — beautiful —
[ He can barely speak from how fervently Louis is thrusting into him, but the expression of pleasure on his face speaks volumes for him. So good, so good that he can't stop himself from tensing and coming again, his nails digging small crescents into Louis's beautiful broad back — ]
[ each long, heavy thrust makes Will lift on his lap. his hips, his hair, his body, they bounce each time he rises and falls. as they move together, Will looks so lost and tousled in his pleasure, lips parted, murmuring his punctuated by short, breathy gasps. there had always been some baggage during their trysts, and with such enjoyable sin also comes tension. Louis would say that shame was for those at the church, but there was some stress in their secrecy. all of that is washed away now, and Will is enjoying himself fully, cast away every shred of anxiety that had chased them. the king grasps at him, leaving moon-shaped indents in his back, and it stings in a way that Louis likes, as if he's being reminded of how close they are.
Louis fucks the king as he comes, letting the heady feelings take him as Will clings desperately to his back. the warmth blossoms between them, spilling against his belly in slow waves as Will's body squeezes him; for a moment, Louis almost slips his palm against the sheets and sends them both tumbling, but manages to keep himself upright as his loins beg for release.
his chest is rising and falling as he catches his breath, dark heart gleaming, his cock still hard inside him. ]
Quite a lot in you ...
[ it's an absent thought that comes out his lips in the haze of pleasure. gently, he reaches down to roll his palm along Will's length to keep him hard, his fingers now slick with cum. it occurs to him that the king came without being touched, and he's struck hard enough by the thought that he has to swallow back the orgasm that threatens him at the thought. he'd rather come in a fit of passion, but Will's sensitivity seems to have an effect on him. rolling his hips slowly, both for himself and to ease Will back into being filled up again, Louis runs a wet thumb up and down Will's cock. ]
[ Will didn't need to be touched. He still doesn't need to be touched — not for pleasure's sake, anyway, not when Louis's cock and Louis's hands and the warmth of Louis's perfect body are all that Will needs to come. Still, his devoted husband touches him anyway, so generous and so attuned to his needs that he keeps Will locked in a state of perfect ecstasy. It's enough to steal the young king's breath away. His eyes are hazy with lust, completely unfocused save for the way they glaze over Louis's features. Long fingers tug at his cock and a pretty thumb rolls into his shaft as if to coax it hard again, and Will tips his head back, moaning loudly, utterly shameless in his need.
He was never, ever this openly wanton during their trysts on the Charadrius, either in Louis's bed or when he was pressed up against his bookcase taking his thrusts. He had a mission to think about, then, and he was always somewhat restrained. He knew he could not allow base desire to compromise his goal. Now, however — now that Will knows that Louis loves him — he can be as openly, shamelessly lustful as he likes.
So he's panting and gasping as he relishes in his pleasure, shuddering in the most delicious way as Louis jerks his cock back to life again. (He's so quick with the rebound, too — ah, the pleasures of being young.) The expression on his face — it's exquisite, the face of an angel who has learned to enjoy reveling in lust. His tight little body squeezes down on Louis's cock again as he drowns in the aftershocks of his orgasm, just-fucked and aching for more. It didn't take very much to make him come, and now it won't take very much to get him ready again.
There are men in this kingdom who would call Louis a lucky, lucky man. The bright spark in Will's eyes suggest he'll want more, and more, and more. ]
I can't help it...
[ A soft little whine, another sensitive squeeze, as if he wants to urge Louis towards an uncontrollable orgasm. ]
[ everything is different now, and there's no lusts that they need to keep in secret. it's liberating in its own way, to be known as an elda, and to have his whole self laid bear – he would have violently rejected this kind of vulnerability before their last battle, now it seems to comfort him.
much had happened since then.
yet Will is no less demanding. his body and his cock are ready again, as if he had never come and was still as hard as when Louis started touching him. the fleeting thought crosses Louis' mind that this is another thing that Will defeats him at – how could he ever keep up with the raw lust of his new husband? perhaps he could still best him when they cross swords, at the magla arts, as well, but here in the bedroom he is at the mercy of his king.
Louis expects that they had been away from one another for so long – by choice or not – that Will's has been teetering over the edge of the precipice, and is now allowed to fall. all that pent-up desire is now unhinged and let loose, and he's so sensitive when Louis is inside of him. ]
Will you come again? You have been waiting an awfully long time.
[ Louis asks, rolling his hips up again into his lover, careful not to extend himself to release yet. the pace is disciplined, steady, giving Will a little more as he squeezes down on him. when they get close enough he can allow himself the luxury of letting loose, of diving more deeply into his pleasure. Louis had always been good at keeping himself in check, there were no soldiers that made it to his rank that were not disciplined, but there is the call to chaos somewhere inside of him.
the closer Will gets again, the more his own cock throbs. ]
[ Long, slow strokes. Steady, like the relentless lapping of ocean waves against the shore. Will shudders as he feels Louis's cock spark pleasure through all of his nerves again. It's wonderful, how unhurried the man is, even though he hasn't tasted ecstasy yet; it makes Will feel a little heady as he thinks about all the other times they did this, and how differently Louis acted at the time.
But Louis is his consort now. His consort, joined in matrimony with him for eternity.
The thought of it makes Will shudder with pleasure all over again. ]
Uh-huh, again... and again, and again...
[ The sense that Louis is indulging his spoiled demands is strangely addictive. Feeling emboldened, Will shifts slightly, moving his hips, too, but in a way that complements rather than overrides Louis's patient thrusts. It's easy to meet Louis's rhythm, somehow; maybe it's all the practice they've had, fighting each other to the death over their ideals and beliefs. Will feels like he knows everything about Louis, sometimes, down to the way his breaths shift when Will moves and his fingers tighten over the king's skin as pleasure starts to build inside of him. The way his cock is throbbing inside of Will feels delicious. ]
I want to make you come, too...
[ He's getting close again, breaths coming quick; he thinks he can feel Louis getting close, too, but the man has such overwhelming self-control, and Will wants to make him lose it. Close enough to kiss, sweet soft little nibbles that linger like the edges of a dream. Will lets his hands tangle in Louis's beautiful blond hair, the better to feel wrapped up in him. He never understood it before this, the way that authors would write about being entwined with a lover, body and soul; now he gets it. Now he understands. ]
Let me feel it. Let me feel... [ He shakes again, can't seem to help himself from mumbling: ] Mmmnh, so deep — ah...
[ again and again and again – that is what Louis said.
even in his bed on their wedding night, Louis thinks that Will's appetite may become legendary. the history books do like a good story, they tell of a king's reign, but gossip is always slid between the lines as if the historian penning it could revel in their scandalous knowledge. the king is indeed young, though Louis wonders if his proclivities will dampen at all, even as he gets older. as they both get older, he realizes. that's an odd realization that Will doesn't let him keep for long, wrapping around him like a wanton snake, pulling at his hair and riding his cock.
there's something intoxicating about having Will like this, desperate to press against him, to be as close as possible. it's better than when they fought, when Louis was trying desperately to find some common ground between them, to pull Will into his own ambitions until he was pulled into Will's.
his fingertips trace down Will's ribs, over his hips and rests on his thighs. it's a body that he knows, though it's different, now – his is, too. he knows that Will can feel it. Louis wants to memorize the shape of his new husband, his king, in a way he didn't before he lost himself. ]
Like that, yes ... make me come ...
[ dark lashes fall half-lidded over his eyes, and he leans back on a flat palm to watch Will on top of him, going as deep as he wants. there's something mesmerizing about the way that he moves, and Louis finds himself staring as Will pleasures the two of them, lifting and lowering his hips. for a moment, Louis sways, a soft, low moan on his lips that quivers as it falls between them. whatever words that may have been in him are now lost. a hand grasps Will's thigh, holding it firmly as if he needs to hold on to something, until the friction is too much. his discipline cracks, the ferocity of the heat takes him. the orgasm crawls through him, steeling his hips to the bed and curling his fingers in the sheets.
each time they had met before this, Louis had been much more controlled, but here he allows Will to ride him out. he finds a lewd part of him likes how it looks when he comes in him, how it drips down his thighs, how Will lowers and his loins give in to another pulse, as if he has more to offer. ]
[ Louis gives him what he wants. What he's craved. Lets him feel what he begged for earlier: the satisfaction of having his husband's hot thick cum inside of him, at least until it's dripping out and rolling down his thigh and Louis seems so moved by the sight that his hips buck one last time so that he can surrender one more pump of hot satisfaction for Will to bask in. It's so satisfying; Will knows that feeling well, the delirious ecstasy of having one last drop of cum to offer. Sometimes he even thinks that the second orgasm is even more delicious than the first.
Louis is a vision for Will to feast on in the aftermath, leaning back on his muscular arm, blond waves of hair falling over his pretty alabaster skin in a way that makes Will wish he could claim him, keep him all to himself. His breathless gasps make his chest heave, swelling prettily in a way that almost makes Will want to get his mouth on one of Louis's pretty nipples to tease and suck until he's hard again. (Again: the young king is insatiable.) But this is their wedding night, and he wants to give Louis something more tender, more vulnerable. He wants to make memories that they can both linger on in all the days together that they have to come.
So, after he's done riding out Louis and he can feel that the man is sweetly soft inside of him, his legs coated in his consort's cum, Will flops forward, resting his head against Louis's chest. He hums out a little note of pleased enjoyment, almost like a laugh, letting his satisfaction tingle through him as he rolls his hips in tiny, minute circles, still chasing one more hit of Louis's love — but, in the same vein, he looks up and whispers breathlessly, in the most effortlessly seductive voice: ]
...I can give you that every single night for the rest of our lives.
[ Such confidence. Such radiance. Such a demanding tyrant of a king — ]
And I'll want it every single night, and every single morning, and every single afternoon...
[ before this, in what feels like another life, Louis would clean them both up and Will would leave. their trysts did not last long, just a fleeting snatch enough for Louis to taste him, to get used to his scent, before sending him away to focus purely on his own ambitions. he feels so far away from that right now, as Will, who he's still snug inside of, rests over his collar and lazily starts talking about how easily he'll give affection.
he wonders if he knew this during his time on the Charadrius, that he'd regret it if he had stayed in his grave. he wonders if Will would have offered the same warmth.
it's better not to think of those things. ]
They'll dub you the insatiable sovereign, the lustful King Wilhelm.
[ there's a puff of air that comes out his mouth as he allows the rest of his thoughts to dissipate into the warm air between them. he doesn't think he's ever seen Will this content, smiling and giddy as if their lives were simply perfect, and not tragedy had ever befallen them. it's a sight that moves him, one he thought to see with his own new world that never came to pass, but now is here in this imperfect one.
that's fine, he'll kill anyone who tries to relieve him of it. ]
Perhaps we can change the reputation of the elda to that of ravenous, desire-filled beasts.
[ there's still a pleasant buzz that vibrates through him, relaxes his shoulders and settles his muscles. despite the way he allows himself to sink, with Will on top of him, he feels sharp, as if a fog has cleared. perhaps he needs this – has needed it – as much as Will does. ]
[ Will giggles a little at Louis's joke, draping his arms over his beautiful consort's shoulders as they both settle into a comfortable post-sex glow. The king will surely want more than this, more and more and more than this, but he's feeling the same pleasant buzz that Louis himself is, and they're just so comfortable right now, in this position. Freshly married, both content. Past the end of all their tragedies — if they're lucky.
But Will is very certain that he can meet any challenge head on and emerge victorious. After all, if he could defeat the indomitable will of Louis Guiabern himself, what left does he have to fear? ]
You know, I wouldn't mind that. It beats all the other things they say about us.
[ Between the very intelligent, contented thoughts of his forebrain, and the impossibly lustful, base thoughts of his hindbrain... Will's hindbrain wins out. He gives in once more to his Louis's irresistible beauty — how exquisite he looks, relaxed and at ease with a bright, pleasantly alert sparkle in his brilliant blue eyes that Will has never seen before — and kisses him warmly on the lips. Then down to his neck, sucking lightly on his soft skin. Not hard enough to leave bruises, no. It's just enough to entertain himself a little, to leave wet warm sensation over Louis's skin. Will's lips are so terribly soft when he nibbles and suckles like this. ]
But we'll have to show them just how insatiable I can be... and I want you all to myself.
[ they were past many things, first and foremost, trying to kill one another. there was some satisfaction in that, though, at least for Louis, who had never had an equal until then. now his equal is sprawled over him, vibrating with soft laughter and tracing trails with his mouth across his skin, the battles memories of their shared time together.
Louis raises a hand to rest on the back of Will's head, curling through his short silver hair, and the way a strand in the back seems to stubbornly jut out in the opposite direction as the rest. ]
I pity the soul that decides to be the first to disturb us.
[ after their wedding, Louis had expected at least a couple days of consummation, and he figured that the Partisans will have their own business to attend to in the king's absence. if he were a gambling man, he'd put on Gallica – she'd most likely be the one of the ones that Will would accept an interruption from. ]
For all that you say you wish to claim me, you are rather careful not to leave a mark. How will anyone at court know?
[ he teases, deliberately trying to stroke that little bit of defiance that he knows sparks within Will. with half-lidded eyes, he draws his hand through the locks of short hair, watching them fall in the spaces between fingers before capturing them again. ]
[ Will giggles, low and sultry at the back of his throat. His dark lashes contrast so prettily against his snow-white hair when he lowers his gaze to Louis's body, warm beneath his own; his expression is greedy, obviously tempted by the bounty of beauty laid out before him. The beauty that is being offered to him — ]
Mmm... do you want me to leave marks?
[ That is the clear intention of Louis's question, of course, and perhaps Will ought to be reminded once more that they are married. Still, he salivates like a hound being offered a glistening roast, tracing his hand down Louis's chest and along his ribcage, really taking him in, despite the fact that he's just finished having him.
Will continues, in a worshipful whisper: ]
Your skin is just so pretty. So pale that I almost want to leave you like this... untouched, unblemished... so pure and lovely that it almost hurts to look at you.
[ He's been very lyrical lately, their young king. Gallica says it's because he's been writing a book, but the truth of the matter is that he's always been lyrical like this, in his heart of hearts, and only now is that lyricism coming to the forefront. His eyes are brilliant blue now, but they almost seem to gleam gold as Will leans in to Louis's neck and murmurs: ]
But then, a different part of me... wants to mark you all over, and leave behind colors that belong to me...
[ A nip follows that remark, punctuated by the hard, bruising, sucking sort of kiss that will leave Louis with hickeys in the morning. Will can't help himself: he gives another, and another, and then another, all mottled along Louis's soft neck; on the other side of his neck, he ventures a bite, hard and passionate, to give him a complete necklace of kingly claims, and he licks the blood off his teeth when he pulls back to admire the effect. ]
[ all that Will needed was a little push – an assurance of consent – that he could use Louis' skin as a canvas. where it's unblemished now, he certainly. had his own share of scrapes and bruises throughout his years as a soldier. there was never anything life threatening, perhaps he had been too good with a sword for his own good – or far too luck in some respects, where he wasn't in others. the echo of strength followed him and struck fear into those who'd cross swords with him, most likely because the ones that came before them were already struck dead.
he wears the blemishes like fine jewelry, sweeping his hair from one side to the other to give Will a fresh canvas. ]
You can allow them to fade and create more at your pleasure.
[ each time Will moves his mouth down his throat, Louis sighs, as if there's some fresh arousal that stirs with him that relaxes his shoulders and helps him sink into the hand holding him up. there's something soothing about the bite of pain mixed with pleasure, the soft sting that is soon tended to by Will's gentle tongue, as if to chase away a wound of his own making.
there are little red marks splotched across his pale skin, red marks blooming, wet and glistening, that will eventually turn purple, then blue, then yellow. Louis is not fragile, not in body nor in spirit, and he likes the little defiant push that Will seems to have when given the chance. there's the satisfying notion that Euchronia's perfect, giving little king, a little demon showing teeth beneath the sheets, but only for him.
when Will leans back, Louis wipes the corner of his mouth with his thumb. ]
I'll wear them well, then no one can forget.
[ as in, he has no intent on hiding them. he's feared enough that no one will ask, and he'll enjoy the gossip that comes from it. the same thumb traces back under his ear and down his shoulders, along the curve of his spine. Will is soft, always so soft, even at the barest touch. ]
[ He's so, so soft — soft in his skin and his hair and everywhere he's touched. Between his legs, though, Will's getting hard again, and he can feel Louis getting hard again too, snug where he never pulled out of his king. (Though, in a way, even Will's cock is still soft when it's hard; his skin is just so smooth and supple and pliant, smooth like silk even when his cock is engorged. Maybe it's all those bath salts he likes to soak in. Touching him is always such a delicious experience.)
Lustful and triumphant, like the demons the Sanctists like to warn of in their fables, Will smiles with a bright spark in his eyes and a knack for urging Louis towards dizzying relaxation. He rolls his hips again, more confidently this time, relishing in the feeling that he gets when Louis's cock drags along his sweet spot again. Greedy little thing that he is, he urges himself against it again and again and again, openly grinding in a way that probably feels better for him than it might feel for Louis — but he's terribly cute when he does it, with his greedy little mouth reaching down again to leave more sharp, delectably painful hickies going down between Louis's chest. His thumbs brush over Louis's tempting nipples; unable to resist temptation, Will decides to pinch one gently, even as his teeth find more skin to sink into. ]
You're getting hard again.
[ Will is, too, of course, which he soon acknowledges by reaching down between their legs so that he can tug at himself as he slowly starts gyrating his hips into Louis's hardening cock again, urging it towards more heated engorgement. He wants to feel Louis hard inside of him again, hard and aching and full again, so that he can urge his consort into giving him more of what he always craves. It's not long before he's arching backwards again, riding Louis properly, his breath coming faster as he tries to ride Louis slower, in the way that he seemed to like, with that easy steady disciplined rhythm, and a wanton look in his eyes. ]
You like having something to show off, don't you? My consort...
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How could he possibly resist? The sinfully perfect demon on top of him is promising to make him come again and again, and even King Wilhelm is only a man like all other men, in the end. It feels so good to give in to his consort's ministrations, coming hard and without hesitation right into Louis's hold; his mind goes wonderfully blank, in that beautiful way he only feels when Louis is the one touching him, tending to him, bringing him pleasure. Will is shaking as he comes down from the high, slim body arched in surrender, nipples peaked and pointed from the way Louis has tugged at them.
The look in his pretty blue eyes is blissful and blank; the royal seed staining Louis's fingers, thick and rich in a way that belies the way he's been waiting for Louis all this time. ]
Ah... oh, Louis...
[ Calling his name, so softly and desperately, as if offering a prayer to the one man who knows him best. ]
So good...
[ Blearily, Will reaches out to stroke his fingers down Louis's jawline. ]
I'm fine, you can... keep going...
[ There's a touch of desperation underlying his voice that gives away what his real game is, here. Oh, no, this isn't about him being "fine" — this is about him wanting. Craving. Needing to make up for all those days he didn't come down to Louis's room to paw at him after he'd just gotten out of the bath, even though he would have been well within his rights to, as the country's king. Making him come once won't be enough to satisfy him, not at all — though he is, unmistakably, satisfied. ]
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the arm around Will's shoulders turns him inward for a kiss, light, but promising, as if he's bringing him back from that blissful look. Will has a regal way about him, but Louis thinks he looks especially kingly with his clothes off, arched in his hands with his hair spilling behind him. something divine for him to devour. ]
Oh? I wonder how many times it will take to sate you.
[ Louis strokes him lazily, as if he's trying to urge every last drop from the king's cock. his fingers rest when he goes soft again, slick with cum and resting just above his thigh without a care to how sticky he may get. ]
Two times more? Five times?
[ there's a tease to his voice, playful in tone. ]
Rest, and then touch yourself for me.
[ he rests his head carefully against the bed, as his horns are still attached to his head. they'll come off eventually, but there's no need to rush. he knows that Will likes them.
there's something thrilling about the prospect of having a show when he's this close to the king, their bodies pressed together in some places, hair twine together in others. Louis has his arm slung beneath him, ready to pull him closer whenever he likes. ]
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For a moment, Will just breathes slowly and quietly, indulgent in the come-down, tingling pleasantly through the aftershocks of his orgasm. He turns his head to kiss Louis one more time, slow and sweet, luxuriating in how good he feels, how boneless. His newly-wedded husband's warmth and tender attention. The feeling of his firm, well-developed body against Will's soft, slender one is impossibly intoxicating.
For a long time now, Louis has not had eyes for anyone in the world save Will. Being the subject of that intense focus is overwhelming at times, but so satisfying, too.
Will does like the horns. Very much. He knows full well that his husband is another elda like himself — but even so, he likes the horns. He eyes them greedily as he seems to just stop and take in Louis, the whole of him, how beautiful he is, how attentive. Features more divine than any other man's, as if some great enemy of the Sanctist God thought it would be laughable to make him so beautiful as to tempt others toward damnation.
Mine, Will thinks.
When he feels like his cock might be able to stir once more, Will reaches down between his legs and tugs lazily at it until it slowly hardens, flourishing under his light touch. He seems to need a firmer touch with himself than he needs with Louis; in their previous trysts it was as though he only needed the lightest touch from Louis's palm to get going, but now he rubs himself vigorously, eagerly. The formerly sweet, undefiled prince is quickly growing into a more lecherous king by the minute.
Gazing lovingly into Louis's eyes, Will pleasures himself until his erection is full and hard once more, as if the sight of his consort's body in the nude is all he needs to spur his imagination onward. ]
Do you like to watch...?
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(perhaps he should feel more sore about that, but he doesn't. he can't find it in him to have any ill feelings toward will. he won; he was the better candidate. Louis never wanted to rule, even if he had a gift for politics and pretty speeches. no, he wanted to destroy.
now, though – now, what does he want?)
it's easy to press against Will, to coil his arm around his middle and press him closer, closer, closer. perhaps he will not be satisfied until they're touching from all angles, across the span of their bare skin, every nook filled. his bright eyes watch, attentive to Will's movements, half-lidded and heated, with his breath long and steady.
there's a moment before he responds, as if he's thinking through his own brief, limited sexual encounters. ]
Perhaps I do.
[ Will's swift, soft hands, grip tight as if he's holding a blade. yes, perhaps he really does like to watch.
his hand rests close to where Will is touching himself, just within the vicinity to offer contact, but he makes no more to join him. not yet, at least. Louis presses a kiss to his temple, lips parted and wet, then his cheek, the corner of his lips. the contact feels good. finally, his fingers crawl down the cleft of Will's thigh and between his legs, pressing gently to his opening. ]
But I also may not be able to help myself ...
[ Louis suddenly feels like there's so much of Will he hasn't touched – it's different now, not quite, but in some ways. a different Will, but the same, ready to be touched. ]
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Lazily, languidly, Will turns his head and kisses Louis as he tugs at himself. There's something about kissing that makes his the movements of his wrist slow down; his hand stills further as Louis's much larger hand joins it between his legs, only Louis's destination seems lower, closer to his more secret places.
Will's breath catches in his throat when Louis's fingers touch his opening, but then he doesn't press in. The king tries to keep his expression neutral, but it's clear that he's expecting more; at the same time, he's expecting this, too. Louis is cruel, and a tease. Of course he'd make Will wait. ]
Then give in to your impulses.
[ So soft, so simple, so unadorned. Will always has the simplest advice, in the way that most of the people he knows only need very simple advice in the end. Only — it's not quite advice that Louis needs in the moment, is it? ]
Touch me more. Everywhere you want.
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his hands are big enough that his fingers can curl between his legs, slide along the inside of his thigh and cup it against his palm. with a low hum, Louis, somehow, presses closer, the line of his body against Will's, his hard cock pressed up against his hip. Louis rolls against him lazily, heated and heavy. with some curiosity he fondles his balls against fingertips; they're soft, too. ]
You're so impatient, Your Majesty.
[ the words are warm, fond, but teasing. ]
... And your body is quite sensitive. Has it been waiting for me?
[ there had been longing, for months there had been longing, but it's over now. Louis finds he likes the idea of Will thinking about him in this room, before the waking hours, aching and lustful.
pointedly, he rolls from his spot at Will's side, and on top of him, his hair falling like a veil over them. now it feels as if the heat is purely between them, and their lips brush together as Louis speaks. ]
And all those impulses you crave?
[ sweet, sweet heat. he can feel it in his belly, and in his loins. Will wasn't the only one longing those months, either. ]
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[ Oh, he's longed. He's longed so, so much, and been so patient. Didn't even touch himself, even when Louis left him helpless and horny in his sickbed after a night of healing; didn't even think about succumbing to the temptation of coming down to Louis's room for a pre-conjugal visit, even though, as the king, he could have probably gotten away with something so scandalous.
There would have been a joy in that, too. In indulging in the sin of falling, immorally, into Louis Guiabern's bed once more. But — ]
I couldn't. I needed you.
[ Needed his love. Needed that love to be freely given. Needed Louis here because he wanted to be, in body and soul, and not just because he'd been swayed by the temptations of carnal pleasure. ]
Needed you here with me... touching me, seeing me...
[ His eyes are only on Louis; his cock and his belly and his hole are all alight with the fires of pleasure, and he needs more of Louis's touch, more of Louis's kisses. Even so, Will still sounds steady as he touches Louis's face and whispers: ]
Thinking only about me.
[ Oh, yes, he's impatient. So, so impatient, even as Louis sates him, straddles him, touching between his legs, his smooth thighs, his soft balls. Everything. The more Louis touches his body, the more Will's eyes glaze over, his gaze focused solely on Louis — his face, his body, his beautiful hair falling like a silk curtain around their faces. The alabaster column of his neck. ]
I need you, need you, need you...
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long ago he would've cursed himself for abandoning his ideals, but that past self never knew the warmth that came with Will's arms, even if he had imagined it.
then a part of him had been afraid that their relationship would become something that he could not control, that would turn him from his ideals. and so he never removed all of his clothing, never showed his heart, because in it, Will would have the advantage; he would know that he could be swayed. now, it doesn't feel so bad being swayed.
the king is pleading and glassy eyed, whispering about need in the heat between them. he feels heady on the sudden feeling of intimacy, and though they've done this before, it also feels as if they haven't. not like this. ]
You don't need to need me anymore. You have me. Allow me to show you how much.
[ have, now, and had, in the past. he had been desperate during their last confrontation, lost in loneliness and desire.
this desire feels far better, though.
somehow, he finds the little bottle rolling around on the mattress with them. there are wet fingers that press into him, stretching gently, but finding that Will is already relaxed and ready – that he most likely has been for the last week in anticipation. Louis was going to wait a little while longer, but how could he not be seduced by such sweet words? they have all night, and he's certain that this won't be the time that purely settles Will in for the evening.
his hand finds his cock, dragging along the length to keep himself slick, it would be a shame if a bit of friction turned painful. balancing on an arm above his new husband, he presses into his entrance, then inside, keeping his hips steady to take in the heat that suddenly envelopes him. the arm that he once adjusted himself with slides under Will's hips, arching him upward as he presses the rest of his body down to keep their skin pressed together. ]
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So warm. So sheltering, weighted above him, pinning him to the bed. It's funny, really — this isn't Louis's first time being inside Will — but somehow the king feels as though it's their first time making love like this. Is it the intimacy? The realness of it — the fact that neither of them are now wearing masks, and they no longer have reasons to lie to one another? Or is it just that tonight is their wedding night, and no one, no church or Sanctifex or God, could possibly forbid them now from joining in sacred union? ]
Oh...
[ Will's breath leaves him in a worshipful gasp. He holds Louis tightly in his arms, pulls him closer so he doesn't have to feel that clawing loneliness anymore. He wants Louis to think of nothing but how tight and slick he is, how his small body yields to Louis's large cock, how his soft lips are open for more kisses, how his arms drape around his lover's neck.
It's even better when Louis moves in a way that maximizes their contact, as if he can't abide even the slightest bit of distance between their bodies in this moment. Will understands; he needs to feel Louis's body pressed up against his, too, as he takes deep breaths and adjusts to the heat and the stretch and the pleasure of having his husband inside of him. ]
I... [ A shaky breath. ] I dreamt about this for so long...
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there was some thrill when they were meeting during their feud that it was something dangerous and sinful, both of them aware that their tryst would end in tragedy. the times are gone in fine pathways of smoke, dissipating in the air, even as the candle burns still. now, there were no lies between them, just the beautiful and horrid truths that they had perpetuated on one another. somehow, that just makes Louis feel even stronger toward his king, that despite all of that ugliness, they were here together, still. ]
It's upon you. I'm here.
[ he says it as if he has to confirm it for himself.
for all of their couplings that had been heady and brimmed with desperation, Louis seems more language, as if he was gripped with something that wished to draw this out as long as he could. his hips move slow, a first, long thrust, a steady roll into his lover. each breath that comes from his parted lips is long, drawn in, slow to release. the place between Will's legs is warm, and he'd like to stay as long as he can.
his other hand pulls up Will's thigh until it grazes his waist, until they're close enough that he can feel his heart press into the embrace of his husband.
under the drape of his hair, he presses his mouth to Will's face, uncaring of whether or not he finds his lips. he does, eventually, and when he does he holds him there until they're both gasping for breath. ]
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But the king won't do this, because he isn't selfish, and he can sense that it's not what Louis needs in the moment. Will needs this, himself: needs to sit, kissed breathless and dizzy, connected to his one true love, his archenemy and rival and destiny all in one person. He wants it fast fast fast and Louis moves slow, slow, slow — so slow that it makes Will shudder and ache and fall deeper and deeper in love. He loves the feel of it, the stretch, the throbbing heat inside of him. He loves the fact that he can feel and hear each of Louis's long breaths, sense just how relaxed he is despite the tension of arousal. He loves feeling the soft thumping beat of Louis's heart against his chest. ]
Louis...
[ Saying his name just to say it. Saying his name just to hear it. Every sensation coursing through Will's body right now is so intense that he almost feels dizzy with the potency of it. Dazed, sinking into Louis's infinite patience, Will wraps his arms tightly around Louis's broad shoulders and whispers: ]
...I love you.
[ No matter how much he says it, it feels like it isn't enough. Aching, squeezing down on Louis's cock even as he tries not to, Will's palms press down between Louis's shoulderblades, as if to cradle his heart through his back. ]
I've waited all this time for you...
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he's met with Will's slick heat, hands wandering his back and soft murmurs of love and waiting that are breathless in his ear. what a delicate thing, love, and the shape the word makes on his mouth. Louis captures the edge of it, kissing him sweetly as if he could swallow the word itself and keep it hidden away. when Will squeezes him he chokes, and he picks up his pace, presses deep and pulls back, again and again. ]
... I love you too.
[ the words come out of his lips in a long breath, as if he tries to grasp just what that means – the depth itself not something he can find his own words for. it seems to come easier to Will, who loves so freely and deeply, as if it were purely something in his nature; the two of them couldn't have ended up more different. instead Louis' arms pull him closer, tighter, grasping onto him desperately like he never had when they met and parted on the Charadrius.
then he was certain that they were going to kill each other. that's how it was supposed to end. instead here he was, cradled in the soft arms of the prince – now king – that he had once seen in the hallways of the palace.
Louis presses their foreheads together, keeping the heat of their mingled breath between the two of them. the arm around Will's waist tightens, and Louis rolls back onto his hips, pulling Will upright with him until he's leaning into his lap. he holds himself upright on an arm, fingers grasping at the sheets as he finds a new angle to thrust into him, dragging his hips down and up again to go as deep as Will wants. the pace gets faster, but still just as smoldering. Will looks good in the sheets, and just as good spread over his lap with his legs apart, and the shape of his cock pressed against him. Louis never goes far, their faces brushing cheeks or pressed together at the bridge of the nose, desperate to keep the heat between them, as if it were theirs and theirs alone. ]
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He likes this. They both do.
When Louis says he loves Will, for the first time — that makes the young king so happy that an ecstatic moan slips past his lips, and then he's pulled closer, in for another kiss.
He almost forgets how beautiful Louis is until his new husband leans back, holding his weight on his hips and left arm, keeping his right hand on Will's lower back to roll into him with quick short thrusts that have Will bouncing and rocking with Louis's cock pressing over and over and over into his sweet spot. It's good, it's good, and what's even better is that Will can take in Louis's beauty like this. That Louis is ethereally handsome was never in doubt — Will can't help but think that he would have fallen in love with Louis even if the man were not so divinely beautiful, on account of the way that fate entangled their destinies together and made them archenemies, now turned lovers — but being able to see the glorious perfection of Louis's body rocking into his makes Will tighten, gasping, as fresh desire surges through him and brings the building tension inside of his body closer and closer to climax again. ]
Ah — Louis, Louis...
[ He calls Louis's names as if begging for a savior. It's addictive, the way Louis pulls him still closer, as if any distance between their bodies is utterly unacceptable. ]
You're so — beautiful —
[ He can barely speak from how fervently Louis is thrusting into him, but the expression of pleasure on his face speaks volumes for him. So good, so good that he can't stop himself from tensing and coming again, his nails digging small crescents into Louis's beautiful broad back — ]
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Louis fucks the king as he comes, letting the heady feelings take him as Will clings desperately to his back. the warmth blossoms between them, spilling against his belly in slow waves as Will's body squeezes him; for a moment, Louis almost slips his palm against the sheets and sends them both tumbling, but manages to keep himself upright as his loins beg for release.
his chest is rising and falling as he catches his breath, dark heart gleaming, his cock still hard inside him. ]
Quite a lot in you ...
[ it's an absent thought that comes out his lips in the haze of pleasure. gently, he reaches down to roll his palm along Will's length to keep him hard, his fingers now slick with cum. it occurs to him that the king came without being touched, and he's struck hard enough by the thought that he has to swallow back the orgasm that threatens him at the thought. he'd rather come in a fit of passion, but Will's sensitivity seems to have an effect on him. rolling his hips slowly, both for himself and to ease Will back into being filled up again, Louis runs a wet thumb up and down Will's cock. ]
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He was never, ever this openly wanton during their trysts on the Charadrius, either in Louis's bed or when he was pressed up against his bookcase taking his thrusts. He had a mission to think about, then, and he was always somewhat restrained. He knew he could not allow base desire to compromise his goal. Now, however — now that Will knows that Louis loves him — he can be as openly, shamelessly lustful as he likes.
So he's panting and gasping as he relishes in his pleasure, shuddering in the most delicious way as Louis jerks his cock back to life again. (He's so quick with the rebound, too — ah, the pleasures of being young.) The expression on his face — it's exquisite, the face of an angel who has learned to enjoy reveling in lust. His tight little body squeezes down on Louis's cock again as he drowns in the aftershocks of his orgasm, just-fucked and aching for more. It didn't take very much to make him come, and now it won't take very much to get him ready again.
There are men in this kingdom who would call Louis a lucky, lucky man. The bright spark in Will's eyes suggest he'll want more, and more, and more. ]
I can't help it...
[ A soft little whine, another sensitive squeeze, as if he wants to urge Louis towards an uncontrollable orgasm. ]
You feel so good inside of me that I...
[ All he needs. How sweet, to be all he needs. ]
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much had happened since then.
yet Will is no less demanding. his body and his cock are ready again, as if he had never come and was still as hard as when Louis started touching him. the fleeting thought crosses Louis' mind that this is another thing that Will defeats him at – how could he ever keep up with the raw lust of his new husband? perhaps he could still best him when they cross swords, at the magla arts, as well, but here in the bedroom he is at the mercy of his king.
Louis expects that they had been away from one another for so long – by choice or not – that Will's has been teetering over the edge of the precipice, and is now allowed to fall. all that pent-up desire is now unhinged and let loose, and he's so sensitive when Louis is inside of him. ]
Will you come again? You have been waiting an awfully long time.
[ Louis asks, rolling his hips up again into his lover, careful not to extend himself to release yet. the pace is disciplined, steady, giving Will a little more as he squeezes down on him. when they get close enough he can allow himself the luxury of letting loose, of diving more deeply into his pleasure. Louis had always been good at keeping himself in check, there were no soldiers that made it to his rank that were not disciplined, but there is the call to chaos somewhere inside of him.
the closer Will gets again, the more his own cock throbs. ]
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But Louis is his consort now. His consort, joined in matrimony with him for eternity.
The thought of it makes Will shudder with pleasure all over again. ]
Uh-huh, again... and again, and again...
[ The sense that Louis is indulging his spoiled demands is strangely addictive. Feeling emboldened, Will shifts slightly, moving his hips, too, but in a way that complements rather than overrides Louis's patient thrusts. It's easy to meet Louis's rhythm, somehow; maybe it's all the practice they've had, fighting each other to the death over their ideals and beliefs. Will feels like he knows everything about Louis, sometimes, down to the way his breaths shift when Will moves and his fingers tighten over the king's skin as pleasure starts to build inside of him. The way his cock is throbbing inside of Will feels delicious. ]
I want to make you come, too...
[ He's getting close again, breaths coming quick; he thinks he can feel Louis getting close, too, but the man has such overwhelming self-control, and Will wants to make him lose it. Close enough to kiss, sweet soft little nibbles that linger like the edges of a dream. Will lets his hands tangle in Louis's beautiful blond hair, the better to feel wrapped up in him. He never understood it before this, the way that authors would write about being entwined with a lover, body and soul; now he gets it. Now he understands. ]
Let me feel it. Let me feel... [ He shakes again, can't seem to help himself from mumbling: ] Mmmnh, so deep — ah...
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even in his bed on their wedding night, Louis thinks that Will's appetite may become legendary. the history books do like a good story, they tell of a king's reign, but gossip is always slid between the lines as if the historian penning it could revel in their scandalous knowledge. the king is indeed young, though Louis wonders if his proclivities will dampen at all, even as he gets older. as they both get older, he realizes. that's an odd realization that Will doesn't let him keep for long, wrapping around him like a wanton snake, pulling at his hair and riding his cock.
there's something intoxicating about having Will like this, desperate to press against him, to be as close as possible. it's better than when they fought, when Louis was trying desperately to find some common ground between them, to pull Will into his own ambitions until he was pulled into Will's.
his fingertips trace down Will's ribs, over his hips and rests on his thighs. it's a body that he knows, though it's different, now – his is, too. he knows that Will can feel it. Louis wants to memorize the shape of his new husband, his king, in a way he didn't before he lost himself. ]
Like that, yes ... make me come ...
[ dark lashes fall half-lidded over his eyes, and he leans back on a flat palm to watch Will on top of him, going as deep as he wants. there's something mesmerizing about the way that he moves, and Louis finds himself staring as Will pleasures the two of them, lifting and lowering his hips. for a moment, Louis sways, a soft, low moan on his lips that quivers as it falls between them. whatever words that may have been in him are now lost. a hand grasps Will's thigh, holding it firmly as if he needs to hold on to something, until the friction is too much. his discipline cracks, the ferocity of the heat takes him. the orgasm crawls through him, steeling his hips to the bed and curling his fingers in the sheets.
each time they had met before this, Louis had been much more controlled, but here he allows Will to ride him out. he finds a lewd part of him likes how it looks when he comes in him, how it drips down his thighs, how Will lowers and his loins give in to another pulse, as if he has more to offer. ]
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Louis is a vision for Will to feast on in the aftermath, leaning back on his muscular arm, blond waves of hair falling over his pretty alabaster skin in a way that makes Will wish he could claim him, keep him all to himself. His breathless gasps make his chest heave, swelling prettily in a way that almost makes Will want to get his mouth on one of Louis's pretty nipples to tease and suck until he's hard again. (Again: the young king is insatiable.) But this is their wedding night, and he wants to give Louis something more tender, more vulnerable. He wants to make memories that they can both linger on in all the days together that they have to come.
So, after he's done riding out Louis and he can feel that the man is sweetly soft inside of him, his legs coated in his consort's cum, Will flops forward, resting his head against Louis's chest. He hums out a little note of pleased enjoyment, almost like a laugh, letting his satisfaction tingle through him as he rolls his hips in tiny, minute circles, still chasing one more hit of Louis's love — but, in the same vein, he looks up and whispers breathlessly, in the most effortlessly seductive voice: ]
...I can give you that every single night for the rest of our lives.
[ Such confidence. Such radiance. Such a demanding tyrant of a king — ]
And I'll want it every single night, and every single morning, and every single afternoon...
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he wonders if he knew this during his time on the Charadrius, that he'd regret it if he had stayed in his grave. he wonders if Will would have offered the same warmth.
it's better not to think of those things. ]
They'll dub you the insatiable sovereign, the lustful King Wilhelm.
[ there's a puff of air that comes out his mouth as he allows the rest of his thoughts to dissipate into the warm air between them. he doesn't think he's ever seen Will this content, smiling and giddy as if their lives were simply perfect, and not tragedy had ever befallen them. it's a sight that moves him, one he thought to see with his own new world that never came to pass, but now is here in this imperfect one.
that's fine, he'll kill anyone who tries to relieve him of it. ]
Perhaps we can change the reputation of the elda to that of ravenous, desire-filled beasts.
[ there's still a pleasant buzz that vibrates through him, relaxes his shoulders and settles his muscles. despite the way he allows himself to sink, with Will on top of him, he feels sharp, as if a fog has cleared. perhaps he needs this – has needed it – as much as Will does. ]
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But Will is very certain that he can meet any challenge head on and emerge victorious. After all, if he could defeat the indomitable will of Louis Guiabern himself, what left does he have to fear? ]
You know, I wouldn't mind that. It beats all the other things they say about us.
[ Between the very intelligent, contented thoughts of his forebrain, and the impossibly lustful, base thoughts of his hindbrain... Will's hindbrain wins out. He gives in once more to his Louis's irresistible beauty — how exquisite he looks, relaxed and at ease with a bright, pleasantly alert sparkle in his brilliant blue eyes that Will has never seen before — and kisses him warmly on the lips. Then down to his neck, sucking lightly on his soft skin. Not hard enough to leave bruises, no. It's just enough to entertain himself a little, to leave wet warm sensation over Louis's skin. Will's lips are so terribly soft when he nibbles and suckles like this. ]
But we'll have to show them just how insatiable I can be... and I want you all to myself.
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Louis raises a hand to rest on the back of Will's head, curling through his short silver hair, and the way a strand in the back seems to stubbornly jut out in the opposite direction as the rest. ]
I pity the soul that decides to be the first to disturb us.
[ after their wedding, Louis had expected at least a couple days of consummation, and he figured that the Partisans will have their own business to attend to in the king's absence. if he were a gambling man, he'd put on Gallica – she'd most likely be the one of the ones that Will would accept an interruption from. ]
For all that you say you wish to claim me, you are rather careful not to leave a mark. How will anyone at court know?
[ he teases, deliberately trying to stroke that little bit of defiance that he knows sparks within Will. with half-lidded eyes, he draws his hand through the locks of short hair, watching them fall in the spaces between fingers before capturing them again. ]
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Mmm... do you want me to leave marks?
[ That is the clear intention of Louis's question, of course, and perhaps Will ought to be reminded once more that they are married. Still, he salivates like a hound being offered a glistening roast, tracing his hand down Louis's chest and along his ribcage, really taking him in, despite the fact that he's just finished having him.
Will continues, in a worshipful whisper: ]
Your skin is just so pretty. So pale that I almost want to leave you like this... untouched, unblemished... so pure and lovely that it almost hurts to look at you.
[ He's been very lyrical lately, their young king. Gallica says it's because he's been writing a book, but the truth of the matter is that he's always been lyrical like this, in his heart of hearts, and only now is that lyricism coming to the forefront. His eyes are brilliant blue now, but they almost seem to gleam gold as Will leans in to Louis's neck and murmurs: ]
But then, a different part of me... wants to mark you all over, and leave behind colors that belong to me...
[ A nip follows that remark, punctuated by the hard, bruising, sucking sort of kiss that will leave Louis with hickeys in the morning. Will can't help himself: he gives another, and another, and then another, all mottled along Louis's soft neck; on the other side of his neck, he ventures a bite, hard and passionate, to give him a complete necklace of kingly claims, and he licks the blood off his teeth when he pulls back to admire the effect. ]
You're mine...
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he wears the blemishes like fine jewelry, sweeping his hair from one side to the other to give Will a fresh canvas. ]
You can allow them to fade and create more at your pleasure.
[ each time Will moves his mouth down his throat, Louis sighs, as if there's some fresh arousal that stirs with him that relaxes his shoulders and helps him sink into the hand holding him up. there's something soothing about the bite of pain mixed with pleasure, the soft sting that is soon tended to by Will's gentle tongue, as if to chase away a wound of his own making.
there are little red marks splotched across his pale skin, red marks blooming, wet and glistening, that will eventually turn purple, then blue, then yellow. Louis is not fragile, not in body nor in spirit, and he likes the little defiant push that Will seems to have when given the chance. there's the satisfying notion that Euchronia's perfect, giving little king, a little demon showing teeth beneath the sheets, but only for him.
when Will leans back, Louis wipes the corner of his mouth with his thumb. ]
I'll wear them well, then no one can forget.
[ as in, he has no intent on hiding them. he's feared enough that no one will ask, and he'll enjoy the gossip that comes from it. the same thumb traces back under his ear and down his shoulders, along the curve of his spine. Will is soft, always so soft, even at the barest touch. ]
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Lustful and triumphant, like the demons the Sanctists like to warn of in their fables, Will smiles with a bright spark in his eyes and a knack for urging Louis towards dizzying relaxation. He rolls his hips again, more confidently this time, relishing in the feeling that he gets when Louis's cock drags along his sweet spot again. Greedy little thing that he is, he urges himself against it again and again and again, openly grinding in a way that probably feels better for him than it might feel for Louis — but he's terribly cute when he does it, with his greedy little mouth reaching down again to leave more sharp, delectably painful hickies going down between Louis's chest. His thumbs brush over Louis's tempting nipples; unable to resist temptation, Will decides to pinch one gently, even as his teeth find more skin to sink into. ]
You're getting hard again.
[ Will is, too, of course, which he soon acknowledges by reaching down between their legs so that he can tug at himself as he slowly starts gyrating his hips into Louis's hardening cock again, urging it towards more heated engorgement. He wants to feel Louis hard inside of him again, hard and aching and full again, so that he can urge his consort into giving him more of what he always craves. It's not long before he's arching backwards again, riding Louis properly, his breath coming faster as he tries to ride Louis slower, in the way that he seemed to like, with that easy steady disciplined rhythm, and a wanton look in his eyes. ]
You like having something to show off, don't you? My consort...
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