[ An eyeful, indeed. Will relishes that eyeful of Louis's assets, leering openly at his new husband as he walks away to fetch some water; in return, Louis turns around and enjoys Will's assets in turn, sipping at his water with the heady confidence of a man more accustomed to harder spirits. The king likes the way he's being admired. He likes knowing that Louis is taking in the way he's rested cutely atop his pillow, belly down on the bed, his plush and shapely rear facing the ceiling, all soft curves open to his touch.
Apparently, though, those curves alone aren't enough. Evidently craving more, Louis tells him to turn over, and Will obeys without a second thought, rolling languidly onto his back, revealing his chest, his slender waist, his hips — his cock, flaccid for the moment. His hair is tousled, flyaways catching the light and curling silver in every wild direction. Feeling very, very pleased with himself, Will goes so far as to pose even more boldly, throwing one arm up over his brow to push his hair back, the other clutching his thigh for visual interest as he parts his legs to reveal his soft hole, still flushed and now leaking some of Louis's spend.
If he had taken Louis up on his offer all those months ago, so far above the reddened skies, his limbs would be blackened, and he would wear a crown of thorns. His serene blue eyes would have turned a dark, anxiety-ridden amber. And he would have still been beautiful like that, too — but there is something exceptionally lovely about the way he bats his lashes now, smooth and soft against the velvet blue cloak of night outside.
Will smiles sweetly, but from his husband's vantage point, and the moonlight illuminating his gentle blue eyes, it might look more like a smirk. If nothing else, he'll seduce his feral Louis back to bed like this. ]
Do you like the view...?
[ His skin gleams faintly with sweat, but even after all they've done, Will still smells sweet — even refreshing, like his bath salts. ]
[ while Louis' plan of becoming king did not pan out, there is a nobility in him that will never shake out. in this moment, he likes knowing the king is his, and that the king will listen to the gentle command to show him his body. there's some primal satisfaction in him that comes from it – that comes from this, really – watching. perhaps losing to Will was not a bad thing, knowing that this was where he was now, knowing that he got this.
Will puts on a show for him, rolling onto his back, stretching the shape of his body and accentuating all of his curves while Louis sips his water. there's a sense of power in this. with a twist of his wrist, Louis rolls the water in the goblet, deliberately resisting the urge to join Will once again in bed. ]
Enough to see more.
[ despite the easy words, it's obvious where his eyes are, half-lidded and sharp with lust. it won't take much to get him back to bed, but he's feeling playful, and he wants a little more of a show.
with one hand he leans back against the table, not quite matching Will's show of seduction, but not leaving much to the imagination as to the curves that are beneath his robes. he may mean to distract Will as much as Will means to seduce him. ]
[ There is something deeply heady, even downright intoxicating, about the electrifying distance between the two of them in this moment. Will gazes at his new husband as if caught in a trance, deep in the throes of young love and madly desirous for it; there's a tension in him that throbs and twitches, hooked on the thought that Louis wants to fuck him right now, too. It feels outrageously thrilling to know that Louis feels the same way — that they are each admiring the other and both are equally eager to devour the other, despite the fact that they were fucking only minutes ago.
Will rests his eyes on Louis's body — on each graceful curve of muscle, with some of the best parts now hidden by the robe loosely wrapped around Louis's waist. He licks his lips, openly salivating over his husband's chest, his waist, his legs, his thighs. In times past, the attraction he felt to Louis was always something shameful which he had to deny in himself; now he can lose himself in it fully, let himself loose to satisfy his wild desires.
Will touches himself slowly, indulgently. He slides one slim hand down between his pecs towards his groin, and his cock, which is by now stirring with interest. His other hand cups one of his peaked nipples, simply caressing them at first, and then pinching them as he begins to stroke himself in earnest.
He lets his gaze rest on Louis's body the whole time, his lips faintly parted, hips shifting and thrusting into his own hand. What is he thinking of? Only of Louis, of course. How Louis will touch him, ravish him, abandon that goblet of water and fuck him the way he wants, if he just gives enough of a show.
He's very pretty. Slim lithe body bent back against the sheets, gorgeous silver hair curling around his sweet features. Sinking deeper into his fantasies, some of which were happening only scant minutes ago, Will tips his head back against his pillow and strokes himself a little faster, teeth biting into his soft lip as he suppresses a moan from deep in his chest. ]
[ it's something just for him, a moment not meant for anyone else. he had crawled, been corrupted and died for this, but it seems far enough away that it all feels worth it. Will is soft and supple, arching like an animal in the throes of passion, dancing with the shadows. Louis thinks he could get used to this, days of politics (perhaps of battle), and nights of coming back to Will's open arms to bury himself between his legs. he had been trying to find a place in Will's new world, but even if it's his first time within the walls of this bedroom, he feels like he can finally grasp it.
beneath his dark lashes, he keeps his gaze on the young king who's dancing in the sheets, hand between his legs like a picture painted in colors so vivid it could be touched. Louis can feel himself stir again, somewhere in the folds of his robe, brushing up against his thighs. ]
Just like that ...
[ he says lowly with his lips to the goblet, his breath labored. certainly, can Will so easily keep his attention from across the room? it seems as if that's the case. after all, he does not need to divert his infatuation with Will anymore. there's no need to protect himself from it.
as Will wishes, he seems to summon Louis from across the room, who despite feeling quite brimming with desire, strides at an easy pace as if he's enjoying the show far too much for it to end (he is). the goblet clinks against the night table as its set down, and Louis sits on the corner of the bed. he cups his hand along Will's cheek, thumb tracing down his chin and tangling in the loops of silver hair that frame his face. ]
[ Maybe they've finally found it: Louis's place in Will's life. Perhaps it's always been his destiny to be Will's lover. The man certainly seems to thrive on this, patiently taking in the show he requested with a simmering heat, a primal hunger, like that of a beast about to strike. His judgmental, distant gaze, with its brilliant blue-green eyes and dark, thick lashes — it's enough to make Will nervous, like he's a young boy with a crush, aroused and nervous and jumpy, eager to perform for his lover. (Well, he's not all that far from being a young boy with a crush, truthfully, but it is a little funny that he's still nervous when they've already done... what they've done.)
He's leaking pre-cum again by the time Louis comes closer; a trickle of it beads against the king's fingers and slicks up his palm. The wet movements of his hand make soft, sloppy sounds, as if to tempt Louis further towards depravity. Will tilts his head as his face is caressed and his bottom lip is brushed; his hand doesn't stop moving. If anything, it moves faster as he takes in his consort's stunningly beautiful face. The poetry they'll write about him... the poetry he'll write about him... ]
You look even better.
[ It's breathed out, ragged; not wanting to disturb the vision Louis has set up for himself, Will doesn't reach out to his consort, but he allows himself to be touched. His parted lips, the love in his eyes... these are all things for Louis and Louis alone to enjoy. ]
[ gently, he runs his thumb along the curve from his ear to his cheek, over the king's bottom lip to feel his breath against it. Louis takes in Will's body from where he's sitting, allowing his eyes to wander along the swell of his chest and down between his legs, to where he's pleasuring himself. the sight mingled with his scent from their rounds of play. like a dream, he slides closer, the weight on the bed shifting until he's leaning down over his new husband, his blond hair falling like a curtain above him. ]
This close...?
[ he says, letting his words drawl as he presses his thumb between Will's lips and into the warmth of his mouth. ]
Or closer still, perhaps ...
[ his thumb presses down on Will's tongue, into the wet slope he drags it down and back again. that mouth always feels good, pretty when he talks, soft and wet when Louis puts a finger there. there's no move to touch him, not yet, there's something enjoyable about this that Louis finds that he likes, something satisfying in watching the king pant and twist in the sheets. the wetness of his mouth makes him rise beneath his robe, the swell of his cock pleasant and hot against his thigh.
Louis will have him again, but he quite likes him like this, first. ]
Somehow, Louis always knows what to do with him. Knows what he needs, what his body craves, even through things that Will himself can't articulate — through his haze of arousal, he watches his beautiful husband come closer, that pale robe slipping open some few tantalizing inches as he bends low enough for his blond hair to tickle Will's chest.
Then he opens his mouth, and lets Louis's thumb press down on his tongue.
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful — so beautiful, so intense, the way they each desire the other. Will feels dizzy with lust, mad with it. His cock twitches in his grasp as he pumps it still faster and faster, and he surrenders to the delicious tension of having Louis do nothing — absolutely nothing with him but hold his tongue down and enjoy the heat of his mouth while gazing into his eyes.
It's enough to make Will whimper. To make him shiver, to make him drool and writhe, even more excited than he was before, and all — only — because his new husband is looking at him, touching him. It's as if that's all he really needs to come: just Louis looking at him, just Louis touching him. ]
Hnh — Louith...
[ His breath is coming hot and fast now; he's hazy, hips bucking off the mattress now, perched on the delicious edge of pleasure. What will Louis do? Encourage him, tip him over the edge and let him come? Or punish him — make him beg? ]
[ there are soft, secret parts of Will that are privy only to him now, a former enemy turned partner. there is a trust here that disquiets him, but he craves it all the same that makes him want more of it – what else is he to do with this existence, now? in this, perhaps pleasure is an answer. Will shifts beneath his tough, love drunk and free, allowing himself to drown in it. there's so much to unlearn, but small steps. one at a time. ]
Good ...
[ Will liked that word before, and there is something beautiful about watching the king writhe on the bed, slim limbs and tousled hair. slowly, Louis drags a palm down the center of his chest and presses down just above his stomach, stilling the movement of his hips. ]
Slow down. You look good like this, it would be a shame if it ended so quickly.
[ he tilts Will's chin back, not breaking eye contact. ]
Why don't you turn over for me?
[ there's a smooth, soft tone to his voice, as if he knows just how to say something to make it sound good. ]
[ Good, Louis says, and that one bit of praise alone is enough to make Will tremble. Ah, it's really not right, is it, for one single world to hold such power over him? And yet — Will can't help but adore it all the same, how good it makes him feel, how something inside of him quails and quivers and melts at the thought of Louis whispering soft encouragement into his ear.
His consort really does sound so lovely. So convincing in that soft, smooth voice, the one that positively drips charisma, slides like liquid into Will's ears.
The young king is on the very cusp of coming when Louis stills him. He whines softly around the warm digit in his mouth, protesting, but Will complies with it all the same, held on the edge of pleasure, letting it take over all of his senses. Bereft of other ways to express how urgently he wants to come, the young king finds himself sucking sweetly on the thumb in his mouth instead; he's still holding Louis's thumb in his mouth even as he turns over again, hips raised and on his knees this time, exposing his soft hole and the red-hot engorgement of his cock and balls as he does so.
The anticipation is killing him. The promise of more pleasure has him hooked. Reverently, Will nibbles on Louis's thumb, as if he might convince Louis to let him come if he's just cute enough, if he begs sweetly enough. ]
Like thith...?
[ He's still stroking himself, because he's so hooked on it, but slower this time. Like Louis wanted. Will pulls himself off of Louis's thumb, but only so that he can plant a kiss on it, Everything, everything to please him... ]
You always want it slower...
[ There's a hint of a whine to it, though not an overly petulant one. Always is only a few times so far, and Will always gets pulled into Louis's patient pace anyway. For the young king who always charges headlong at the country's problems, it may suit him more than he thinks to be collared and held and told to slow down. ]
[ there's a moment of soft control that makes him shudder, his breath drawing in through his lips and then out his nose as he contains the sudden swell of desire inside. Will's wet mouth on his thumb, nibbling and whining around it; the king obediently pausing his touching to heed the request.
the king with a glaze of pleasure in his eyes, so full that he looks as if he'd overflow.
Louis smudges some saliva across his lips, wetting his cheek. for as long as he had sat on the politics of power and domination between him and Will, he finds that it's comfortable to fall into a pattern of both: the bruises from Will's mouth still red on his chest, and now the king hanging by a thread as Louis tells him gently to wait.
a hand cups Will's cheek. ]
It certainly seems like long enough to be "always." There are things in this life meant to be savored, Will, and you are one of them.
[ Louis lets the robe fall from his shoulders, discarding it on the bed. he tips Will's chin up for a kiss before he rearranges himself to settle behind him, pulling his hips closer. there are more favored positions, but there is something inside him that stirs at the image of the king on his knees. he's already hard, rubbing the length of his cock up against Will's sweet hole. ]
You look beyond the point of waiting, but you're being so good.
[ before long, he's pressing inside of him again as if it's second nature, with a long, slow thrust. ]
He is a wise king, a gentle king, and he knows that his reign is one that will be marked by his wisdom and his love of peace. But even wise kings have their vices, and he is beginning to realize that his may be an addiction to the pleasures of the flesh. He's already so damn hard — so close to the edge that when he sees Louis disrobe he almost comes from the sight of him alone. His husband's beauty seizes him in a way that makes him lock up with desire, so obviously overflowing with need that he's deliciously submissive to all of Louis's requests.
So small, so soft, so pliant, so greedy... how can one man be this sweet? Will lets his husband kiss him, lets his husband take up position behind him — lets everything happen to him because he's so incredibly excited that he can't think of anything else but how badly he wants this. He's so obviously in need, nearly shaking with anticipation as that thick cock takes up position at his entrance, outright trembling as it begins to breach him. He moans loudly as it pushes in in in all the way to the place where he wants it to be, and — ]
A-Ah — Louis, L-Louis...
[ He's far beyond the point of waiting, but he looks so, so damn good — Will comes as soon as Louis pushes into him, and in a way that he didn't come before. He's trembling from head to toe as his orgasm rushes through him, as his cum stains the sheets beneath him and his slick, warm insides tighten around Louis's cock as if welcoming him in.
Such a sweet, sensuous body, deliciously and subtly curvaceous, all Louis's for the claiming, Louis's alone to conquer...
So good, Louis says, and the delicate thrill of praise makes Will feel as if he's coming all over again. ]
[ it is quite impressive how disciplined Will can be – keeping himself from knocking on Louis' chamber door for months, holding himself back from self-pleasure and simmering in anticipation. it's also quite lovely to watch him fall apart, to reap the greedy benefit of his own desires that had come to a head after so many careful steps. they've come a long way since Louis had beckoned Will into the office of the Charadrius with his own lewd intentions, back when they had to keep the secret between them.
it's satisfying to watch Will give into those desires, breathless and quivering, breaking apart on the sheets. they were careful, for so long, not to show weakness in front of one another, always playing a quiet power game. there's nothing left to do anymore than bask in the affection, and allow Will to fall apart without consequence.
there are other positions that are more favorable to the two of them, but Louis can't help but enjoy the view from where he is. the king kneeling in front of him, trembling in the thighs, gripping the sheets and whimpering as he comes. there's a fine curve in his back, and the shadow of his spine, the way he twists his pretty limbs against the bed, and the tangle of silver hair, softly matted, much like the rest of him.
Louis does offer him a moment of reprieve, but not much of one. ]
Is there enough for one more?
[ he asks slyly, dragging his hands from Will's waist to his hips, settling there to hold him still, allow him the freedom to fall apart as much as he'd like.
Louis starts slow, with long, deep thrusts. selfishly, he wants to enjoy Will like this, after a full night of pleasure, both their bodies sweaty after so many claims. it feels good with each squeeze, keeping his breath paced to the roll of his hips. ]
[ Will half-expects Louis to take him by the hair, as he's done on several occasions before, and not always with the best of intentions. Instead, those large, sturdy palms slide down his body towards his narrow waist, holding him by the hips, anchoring him in lust.
Louis is moving. It takes Will's breath away in the best possible way, the slick churning feeling of his husband's thick cock gliding back and forth inside him; he moves from pleasure to pleasure, coming out of the aftershocks of his orgasm into new thrills of ecstasy each time Louis's cock hilts deep or slides across a particular spot that makes him feel improbable pleasure thrilling through his cock and his belly through to the very tip of his tongue. ]
Yes — yes, always, for you...
[ They've been joined like this before, in different positions. One time, when their trysts were more guilty and they both knew that they had to kill the other eventually, Louis had had Will standing up, braced against his bookshelf, taking short slow thrusts that had Will trembling and falling apart. Another time, he'd tumbled Will into the couch in his office, spread him out there, pressed into him with a hunger that could have conquered him. Those were idyllic days, for them — and then Louis had grown cold, and sent Will away to Virga Island, as if he himself realized that the call of his own lust had become a liability to him.
(Perhaps he simply feared what would become of his black heart if he learned to love.)
But this, now — this position is exquisite. Will succumbs to Louis's cock, tensing and twitching around it and welcoming him deeper and deeper, falling apart completely, his expression lost to lust. He's drooling a little, but he doesn't care; the more he's fucked, the more heavily he sinks into the sheets, relaxing fully, lost in how good it feels to have sex with Louis Guiabern. ]
[ Will is light enough for him to keep hold of him, gripping his hips even if his knees slip, or his thighs threaten to give out. his new husband is tall enough that when Louis leans over him, lifts him to get a new angle, that tendrils of his long, blond hair brush against his back. as he leans in, he gets closer, leaning over Will in a haze, his breathes coming out at long pants that measure his thrusts.
there's no need to hold back anymore; those feelings of affection that bubble to the surface can be sharpened like a knife, much like his other emotions. the two of them had put each other through various types of hell already, and Will had already proven that he was strong enough not to die, no matter how they tried to kill each other. ]
Good ...
[ he says it as if he meant to add to it, but he can't, the words lose themselves in the breath of his throat. the king twitches around his cock, urging him deeper, soft and slick, and drunk on the desire. the pleasure pools in his belly, somewhere in his groin and feels hot. this isn't something he finds he wants to hold, even as his thrusts slow, he runs his fingers along Will's cock, up the shaft and along the shape of the head. with a deep breath he releases, holding his king up with one hand, pleasuring him with the other.
he had tried so hard to become the king through violence, but now he was the king through love. ]
[ It's as if the whole of Will's world has narrowed down to the cock pushed deep inside of him — how warm and slick it feels, thrusting in and out of him with livewire persistence. Will's knees have given out completely, but that doesn't matter when Louis's strong arms are holding him up. He's so consumed by pleasure that he can't think of anything else but how good it feels to be at his new husband's mercy; when Louis's long blond hair tickles his back, he shivers, tightening further, plunging them both into delirious ecstasy. Nothing could feel better —
— except for the rush, the addictive spark of euphoria he feels when Louis's hand snakes around his waist and starts tugging on his sweet little prick. He feels positively triumphant when he hears Louis exhale from behind him, long and deep and exhilarating in a way he normally never allows himself. The pleasure of feeling his lover come inside of his body, fill him up completely — the sheer euphoria of feeling something hot and slick around the rim of his hole, knowing that it's Louis's, all Louis's, and Louis is his husband now...
Even sex feels like a battle between the two of them, and Will loves the satisfaction of having Louis Guiabern on his back foot. It doesn't take long for Will to spill, once he knows that Louis has found release, too, and those insistent fingers between his legs have worked his own cock to bursting again — he grips Louis's wrist, tips his head back, moans his lover's name, and then he's surrendered again. ]
Louis — oh, Louis...
[ He's just so very pretty. Slim and nude in Louis's arms, holding Louis's cock between his legs so nicely. Hair tousled, a fine mist of sweat over his back, smelling sweet despite the tang of salt and exertion. All slim curves and yielding body, dripping wet and still ready for more. A king to be conquered, still kingly in his desecration.
He feels so, so good. Such perfection. So addictive, and it's only their wedding night. ]
I...
[ He shudders, tasting pleasure through all of his senses, leaning limp against Louis's arms. ]
[ when they had met in secret trysts before their nuptials, it was a secret based on timing: when Will could wander from his friends, when Louis could part himself from his ambition for pleasure, and when those two events crossed they came together for as long as they could before parting. there wasn't time to linger in each other's company when they were enemies, as the world outside their own demanded their attention. what happened between them was easy to push back, cover with the ongoing events of an increasingly chaotic world.
now that they have time for one another, Louis is finding that the new king is absolutely insatiable. while this is their wedding night, they've already coupled several times, and Louis still has the fresh bruises on his collar to show for it. there's a moment where he wonders, absently, how he's going to keep up.
it's still surprising to learn Will can talk and muttering soft affections that Louis still not used to hearing. he has to pull out before he can rearrange a limp Will in his arms, allowing gravity to press their sticky bodies together for the king to enjoy. ]
I'm still more used to having your blade to my throat than hearing you utter those words.
[ he's somewhat amused, but still self-aware to some extent. that loneliness is still hollow inside of him, but it will become faraway soon enough, it will just take time.
Louis Guiabern is not the sort of man who's used to being loved. ]
[ Newlyweds. They're newlyweds. The thought echoes in Will's satisfied, empty head as Louis pulls out of him, then rearranges their limbs such that Will is resting comfortably on top of his new husband.
The only way things could be more perfect would be if they could be wiped clean of their sweat... but there's something nice about staying sticky, too. Secretly, he likes the way Louis smells after a bit of exertion. ]
I could say the same to you...
[ Bleary-eyed and blurry in his vision, Will still isn't tired enough to drift off to sleep. His interest catches, instead, on the shawl of bruises he left on Louis's neck earlier. Tenderly, he traces their darkening shapes, marveling and what he's done to his lover. ]
You had so many chances to kill me at the opera house, and yet you didn't. You said I was hesitating... but I think you were, too.
[ And there may have been many reasons for that. Not all of them can be chalked up to love. Still, thinking back on all of it now... Will would like to believe that love stayed Louis's hand, then. ]
[ they're newlyweds, and there's more time tomorrow and the next to indulge Will in his seemingly endless appetite. the king is afforded some alone time with his new consort for consummation, of course, though he knows Hulkenberg and Gallica will want to see Will soon enough, as he's never far from their sight.
Louis tosses his hair to the side to make it more manageable as he settles down on the bed with Will sticking to him. now that they're quiet enough, he can make the time through the lightless windows. a deep darkness, pricked with the barest light of the moon, Louis figures it must be early enough in the morning for the sun to still slumber – they've been at it long enough that he lost time.
Will speaks of times when his hair was still blue, and the prince still slumbered like the morning sun. Louis regards him curiously; they had been working out so many of their own problems, that Will never asked him about his headspace before their grand finale. ]
Hn?
[ a hm turns to a purr in his throat. ]
Part of me was, perhaps. Until then, I didn't believe the elda still living after the massacre at the Sanctum wanted to leave the protection of their forest. I thought they would slowly die out, haunted and alone. When your boldness and poor planning brought you to my doorstep, I found myself proven wrong.
[ Will was something that not even his closest confident got his true thoughts on, not Fidelio, and not Zorba. ]
You were an anomaly to me, predictable yet somehow without restraint. At that time, I could not say that I was capable of any form of devotion, but you fascinated me to the point of madness. You held something I had lost long ago, simultaneously reminding me that I could never regain it, but holding some hope that it was still within me.
Both Fidelio and Zorba found my fondness for you unnerving, as if a decade of moving pieces would somehow crumble from your mere presence. Looking back at such a time, they were both correct.
[ he closes his eyes for a moment. ]
Selfishly, I wanted to discard my life's ambition and take you from your friends and travel beside you, yet I wanted to be the one kill you, too. Since I could not have the former, I had to settle on the latter, but the former remained a possibility in my brain, because you made many things seem possible.
[ Louis is confessing to so much... He does do this sometimes, Will thinks, only distantly registering the thought even as he thinks it. But the monologuing feels different today. In times past, he prattled on about his flawed ideals, about the state of the world, about the way it injured him. Today, Louis is talking about Will, and the way he began to fall in love with him.
Will listens patiently. Takes it all in. The low purr of Louis's voice, tinged with a hint of sleepy exhaustion. Perfection in his ears. This is the first time Louis has been so open with him, so vulnerable, and he's suffered so much, in his own way. The desire to kill Will because he could not bear with the thought of wanting him — Will understands that impulse more than what ought to make sense for his position. ]
...You have me now.
[ Aching in his heart, Will pushes himself up enough to gently cradle Louis's face in both of his hands. He needs — he knows that Louis doesn't need comfort, but he needs to comfort Louis, all the same. If he had reached out earlier, if he had thought about Louis's position earlier... ]
You don't have to take me from my friends. You can be by my side, and travel with me... You have me now, ever and always.
[ His eyes are intense and glimmer in the dim moonlight as he gazes at Louis with an affection that borders on ferocity. ]
[ when they were on opposing sides, Louis didn't indulge much, not to anyone, really. at that time he was secretive of his own vulnerabilities, thinking that they would somehow make him less capable. if he could somehow distance himself from his own pain, then perhaps that pain could not be used against him that pierced through so many layers of carefully placed armor. as he lies in his marriage bed now, he finds that it seems so far away, so futile, as strength came from the opposite.
even the archdemon wore little. ]
Yes, I have you now.
[ perhaps in all of that, he was desperate to connect with someone, and thought he could with Will. well, that was true – or is true – given that the king is now beside him.
he slips away, brushing his lips up against Will's palm before leaning over him, reaching just above his head for something on the side table. the king isn't kept in suspense for long, as Louis leans down to mimic what he had done just hours ago, tucking the same flower from the Eldan Sanctum behind his ear. ]
The world will never have all of you, but I will.
[ with a low voice, he leans over Will again, offering a brief kiss, like a promise, before settling beside him.
the bed is filled more fully with two on it, much like those long nights that Louis had settled around the king as he slept in sickness. there's even a slight dip where Louis lays, pulling Will in toward him. ]
[ Everything feels so warm and comfortable. So strangely familiar, and incredibly right. Will lets Louis reposition him, kiss him, tuck a royal flower into his hair; all of it feels good. The attention feels good. When they settle into bed, bodies pressed firmly together as if it would somehow wound them to separate for even a moment, the young king sinks completely into his creeping exhaustion.
Utterly satisfied both sexually and emotionally, Will leans his cheek against Louis's black heart, and finally, finally lets himself rest.
He wanted this so badly. Back when he was sick. It's his now — his forever. Louis is his forevermore.
The Senate is quiet. They do not call for an official meeting. A few silent messengers are dispatched in the dead of the night, but nothing is settled on quite yet. Louis's new position as the king's consort changes the trajectory of their calculations quite wildly, and in many ways, they never recovered from the loss of Forden. The Senate's best schemer now is the Igniter Consortium Head, but his position has grown more and more threatened by Brigitta's grabs for power, of late.
At least one decision is finalized, however. The Senate can come to no consensus but this — a familiar resolution which Will himself once made, long ago:
Louis Guiabern must die.
...In the morning, Will does not think about how the Senate must be scheming against him. He is freshly married, and he has just enjoyed his wedding night, and the giddiness of his nuptials is still at the forefront of his mind.
Still half-asleep, he snuggles up against his husband, outright rubbing his face on Louis's chest (his cheek slipped a little in his sleep, his nose is nestled against bare skin instead of that gilded melancholized organ now). His arm is resting comfortably in the dip of Louis's waist. He likes the way Louis's body dips into the mattress, too, though part of him wonders if they should get a harder mattress to better support his husband's big body.
It's warm, and nothing seems to be going on outside. Will lingers dreamily in the space between slumber and wakefulness, but the more he lays next to Louis, the more excited he gets all over again. Married, he thinks to himself gleefully. I've married Louis Charadrius. And the more gleeful he gets, well, the more the man in his bed can probably just... tell. That he's awake. He isn't moving, but he might as well be vibrating with excitement, the way his magla is leaking out of him: pure contentment. ]
[ it would be uncharacteristic of the Senate not to at least raise a hand against him. he had stood against them for years as a looming, undeniable threat, and now he's a threat again, like an infestation of snakes that just won't leave. now that Will as wed him, he creates another obstacle. he knows they must all be nervous, there were so many forced (and thus satisfying) smiles the day before.
Louis has been awake for a while, lounging like a large, comfortable cat who is in no rush to rise in the early morning. while as a soldier he has quite a bit of discipline, when he wishes to be rebellious, he takes the opportunity. there's no need to rush, and Will is only on the verge of waking, comfortable enough to be lulled back into sleep. the sun is already hovering over the horizon, saluting to mid-morning as both kings ignore its passage in favor of their own comfort.
he's part way through a passage in his book when he feels Will stir in earnest beside him, rather than shuffling and fading again. wordlessly, he sets the book on the table beside the bed, and without so much as a greeting, he pins his new husband beneath him, kisses him and has him again. their meetings were always guided by politics, and perhaps Louis is feeling a bit of refreshing rebellion in the freedom to have sex, sleep beside each other, and wake up that way in the morning. the faded memory of last night's events are solidified as he guides Will's legs around his waist once again. he fucks him again into the mattress, leaving no room for Will to catch his breath, until they're both feeling the linger of their orgasms.
it's not until afterward that he speaks. ]
You need something of sustenance to break your morning fast.
[ he sits at the edge of the bed, twisting his hair and tossing it over his shoulder to keep it from getting in the way of him finding that robe that he threw some were last night. ]
[ As always, Louis does as he pleases, and as always, Will finds it impossibly thrilling.
He was already — he feels a dirty little thrill just thinking about it — loose and waiting for his husband, so it's no issue at all that Louis has apparently been brimming with carnal desire for him all morning. It's incredibly arousing, actually. So easy, just so ridiculously easy for the most beautiful man in Euchronia to kiss Will awake and fuck him hard in the sheets until he's satisfied — until they're both satisfied. Morning sex leaves Will shaking post-orgasm, pleasantly breathless, with fresh cum on his belly and between his legs, hazy from the shift to hazy wakefulness to sexual pleasure to ecstasy.
...To a certain degree, the king is actually a little dazed and confused. (No good morning?! Just sex?! Is he going to want it like this all the time?! Ah, that might not be so bad... He might really, really like that...)
Not that Will is complaining. On the contrary, he can't think of anything more perfect than this. Oh, to be roused out of slumber by his husband's perfect body pressing him into place and then rocking perfectly into his own — to have his half-asleep, lazy brain pounded into waking alertness by the exhilarating rush of orgasm — and, indeed, to have nothing on the horizon because he has a solid week from work to enjoy his honeymoon...
He feels a little drained, but happy, too, and certainly wide awake now. Stretching languidly in the sheets, Will props himself up on his arms, rolling onto his stomach, his pert rear looking bouncy and ready for more on the mattress. He gazes at Louis's back fondly, though he himself isn't quite itching to get out of bed just yet. Not when he's got a sinfully handsome husband to admire.
Mmm... Look at him with that cute makeshift side ponytail...
Will's eyes are glazed over with mixed fondness and post-orgasmic contentment. He feels softly aglow. The nation's problems can wait until the afternoon. ]
[ there are still shadows of Will's fingertips against his shoulders, pressed down into his skin, like little prints for him to enjoy as he settles in morning wakefulness. the restlessness that he's woken with before seems more at ease, as if either the partnership or the sex has calmed him already (or perhaps a combination of both). Will had never been beside him in the morning during their brief, unsteady relationship during the tournament, and Louis knew that if he extended such a thing, he would not be able to let go. well, he certainly doesn't have to now.
the king is sprawled out playfully, butt-up and slim-shouldered, flush in all the right places, as if he knows that it's almost enough to entice Louis back to bed. ]
What would my king like to regain his vital fluids? I'm certain the kitchen will be ready and waiting to hear it.
[ Louis has never been above making a lewd joke or two. he finds the robe (without the sash, as that's still lost) and pulls it just over his shoulders, leaving the center open unabashedly.
there are still a few matters to take into consideration – these are his quarters now as much as they are Will's, so he'll have to move some of his own belongings from one room to another, as well as his own mark on the royal apartments. he's certain Will's friends will want to see him as well, but they can do that at their own pace, Louis selfishly has the king to himself for a while longer. ]
[ Oh, that's a beautiful sight to wake up to. The sex was a good thing to wake up to, too, but this — the sight of Louis luxuriating around the room in his open robe — it's enough to make Will crave even more of his consort's gentle care. He giggles into his royal pillow, shamelessly eyeing everything that Louis has to offer.
Mmm, it's almost as good as when he was the Archdemon... ]
Let's just... send to the kitchens for whatever they've prepared this morning. I'm not feeling picky.
[ A lifetime of eating at taverns and accepting the surprises of the inn's daily menu will strip any king of his pickiness, and anyway, the royal chef never disappoints with her selections.
Being king does come with its perks, and despite Will's sweeping reforms across the country, not much, fundamentally, has changed about the operations of the inner palace since the new king claimed his crown. Breakfast is still rolled in on a gorgeous silver tray by a matronly ishkia maidservant who once served in the Shadowguard and whose silence cannot be broken by Sanctist threats or Sanctist coin (staff of lower caliber simply would not be allowed to enter the royal bedchamber after the king's wedding). She exits just as silently as she enters, knowing full well that her king and his equally independent consort both prefer to serve themselves.
Will, who has by now gotten dressed in his own barely-tied nightgown, does not dive into breakfast head first. He instead plucks a grape off of its bunch and holds it out to Louis, his eyes alight with greed to press something to his gorgeous consort's lips.
Married, he whispers to himself. We're married.
It's still thrilling, in spite of the morning, and the night before. ]
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Apparently, though, those curves alone aren't enough. Evidently craving more, Louis tells him to turn over, and Will obeys without a second thought, rolling languidly onto his back, revealing his chest, his slender waist, his hips — his cock, flaccid for the moment. His hair is tousled, flyaways catching the light and curling silver in every wild direction. Feeling very, very pleased with himself, Will goes so far as to pose even more boldly, throwing one arm up over his brow to push his hair back, the other clutching his thigh for visual interest as he parts his legs to reveal his soft hole, still flushed and now leaking some of Louis's spend.
If he had taken Louis up on his offer all those months ago, so far above the reddened skies, his limbs would be blackened, and he would wear a crown of thorns. His serene blue eyes would have turned a dark, anxiety-ridden amber. And he would have still been beautiful like that, too — but there is something exceptionally lovely about the way he bats his lashes now, smooth and soft against the velvet blue cloak of night outside.
Will smiles sweetly, but from his husband's vantage point, and the moonlight illuminating his gentle blue eyes, it might look more like a smirk. If nothing else, he'll seduce his feral Louis back to bed like this. ]
Do you like the view...?
[ His skin gleams faintly with sweat, but even after all they've done, Will still smells sweet — even refreshing, like his bath salts. ]
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Will puts on a show for him, rolling onto his back, stretching the shape of his body and accentuating all of his curves while Louis sips his water. there's a sense of power in this. with a twist of his wrist, Louis rolls the water in the goblet, deliberately resisting the urge to join Will once again in bed. ]
Enough to see more.
[ despite the easy words, it's obvious where his eyes are, half-lidded and sharp with lust. it won't take much to get him back to bed, but he's feeling playful, and he wants a little more of a show.
with one hand he leans back against the table, not quite matching Will's show of seduction, but not leaving much to the imagination as to the curves that are beneath his robes. he may mean to distract Will as much as Will means to seduce him. ]
Go on, show me.
[ he smiles when he puts his lips to his cup. ]
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Will rests his eyes on Louis's body — on each graceful curve of muscle, with some of the best parts now hidden by the robe loosely wrapped around Louis's waist. He licks his lips, openly salivating over his husband's chest, his waist, his legs, his thighs. In times past, the attraction he felt to Louis was always something shameful which he had to deny in himself; now he can lose himself in it fully, let himself loose to satisfy his wild desires.
Will touches himself slowly, indulgently. He slides one slim hand down between his pecs towards his groin, and his cock, which is by now stirring with interest. His other hand cups one of his peaked nipples, simply caressing them at first, and then pinching them as he begins to stroke himself in earnest.
He lets his gaze rest on Louis's body the whole time, his lips faintly parted, hips shifting and thrusting into his own hand. What is he thinking of? Only of Louis, of course. How Louis will touch him, ravish him, abandon that goblet of water and fuck him the way he wants, if he just gives enough of a show.
He's very pretty. Slim lithe body bent back against the sheets, gorgeous silver hair curling around his sweet features. Sinking deeper into his fantasies, some of which were happening only scant minutes ago, Will tips his head back against his pillow and strokes himself a little faster, teeth biting into his soft lip as he suppresses a moan from deep in his chest. ]
Mmm... like this...?
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beneath his dark lashes, he keeps his gaze on the young king who's dancing in the sheets, hand between his legs like a picture painted in colors so vivid it could be touched. Louis can feel himself stir again, somewhere in the folds of his robe, brushing up against his thighs. ]
Just like that ...
[ he says lowly with his lips to the goblet, his breath labored. certainly, can Will so easily keep his attention from across the room? it seems as if that's the case. after all, he does not need to divert his infatuation with Will anymore. there's no need to protect himself from it.
as Will wishes, he seems to summon Louis from across the room, who despite feeling quite brimming with desire, strides at an easy pace as if he's enjoying the show far too much for it to end (he is). the goblet clinks against the night table as its set down, and Louis sits on the corner of the bed. he cups his hand along Will's cheek, thumb tracing down his chin and tangling in the loops of silver hair that frame his face. ]
You look good ...
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He's leaking pre-cum again by the time Louis comes closer; a trickle of it beads against the king's fingers and slicks up his palm. The wet movements of his hand make soft, sloppy sounds, as if to tempt Louis further towards depravity. Will tilts his head as his face is caressed and his bottom lip is brushed; his hand doesn't stop moving. If anything, it moves faster as he takes in his consort's stunningly beautiful face. The poetry they'll write about him... the poetry he'll write about him... ]
You look even better.
[ It's breathed out, ragged; not wanting to disturb the vision Louis has set up for himself, Will doesn't reach out to his consort, but he allows himself to be touched. His parted lips, the love in his eyes... these are all things for Louis and Louis alone to enjoy. ]
Come closer, Louis...
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This close...?
[ he says, letting his words drawl as he presses his thumb between Will's lips and into the warmth of his mouth. ]
Or closer still, perhaps ...
[ his thumb presses down on Will's tongue, into the wet slope he drags it down and back again. that mouth always feels good, pretty when he talks, soft and wet when Louis puts a finger there. there's no move to touch him, not yet, there's something enjoyable about this that Louis finds that he likes, something satisfying in watching the king pant and twist in the sheets. the wetness of his mouth makes him rise beneath his robe, the swell of his cock pleasant and hot against his thigh.
Louis will have him again, but he quite likes him like this, first. ]
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Somehow, Louis always knows what to do with him. Knows what he needs, what his body craves, even through things that Will himself can't articulate — through his haze of arousal, he watches his beautiful husband come closer, that pale robe slipping open some few tantalizing inches as he bends low enough for his blond hair to tickle Will's chest.
Then he opens his mouth, and lets Louis's thumb press down on his tongue.
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful — so beautiful, so intense, the way they each desire the other. Will feels dizzy with lust, mad with it. His cock twitches in his grasp as he pumps it still faster and faster, and he surrenders to the delicious tension of having Louis do nothing — absolutely nothing with him but hold his tongue down and enjoy the heat of his mouth while gazing into his eyes.
It's enough to make Will whimper. To make him shiver, to make him drool and writhe, even more excited than he was before, and all — only — because his new husband is looking at him, touching him. It's as if that's all he really needs to come: just Louis looking at him, just Louis touching him. ]
Hnh — Louith...
[ His breath is coming hot and fast now; he's hazy, hips bucking off the mattress now, perched on the delicious edge of pleasure. What will Louis do? Encourage him, tip him over the edge and let him come? Or punish him — make him beg? ]
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Good ...
[ Will liked that word before, and there is something beautiful about watching the king writhe on the bed, slim limbs and tousled hair. slowly, Louis drags a palm down the center of his chest and presses down just above his stomach, stilling the movement of his hips. ]
Slow down. You look good like this, it would be a shame if it ended so quickly.
[ he tilts Will's chin back, not breaking eye contact. ]
Why don't you turn over for me?
[ there's a smooth, soft tone to his voice, as if he knows just how to say something to make it sound good. ]
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His consort really does sound so lovely. So convincing in that soft, smooth voice, the one that positively drips charisma, slides like liquid into Will's ears.
The young king is on the very cusp of coming when Louis stills him. He whines softly around the warm digit in his mouth, protesting, but Will complies with it all the same, held on the edge of pleasure, letting it take over all of his senses. Bereft of other ways to express how urgently he wants to come, the young king finds himself sucking sweetly on the thumb in his mouth instead; he's still holding Louis's thumb in his mouth even as he turns over again, hips raised and on his knees this time, exposing his soft hole and the red-hot engorgement of his cock and balls as he does so.
The anticipation is killing him. The promise of more pleasure has him hooked. Reverently, Will nibbles on Louis's thumb, as if he might convince Louis to let him come if he's just cute enough, if he begs sweetly enough. ]
Like thith...?
[ He's still stroking himself, because he's so hooked on it, but slower this time. Like Louis wanted. Will pulls himself off of Louis's thumb, but only so that he can plant a kiss on it, Everything, everything to please him... ]
You always want it slower...
[ There's a hint of a whine to it, though not an overly petulant one. Always is only a few times so far, and Will always gets pulled into Louis's patient pace anyway. For the young king who always charges headlong at the country's problems, it may suit him more than he thinks to be collared and held and told to slow down. ]
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the king with a glaze of pleasure in his eyes, so full that he looks as if he'd overflow.
Louis smudges some saliva across his lips, wetting his cheek. for as long as he had sat on the politics of power and domination between him and Will, he finds that it's comfortable to fall into a pattern of both: the bruises from Will's mouth still red on his chest, and now the king hanging by a thread as Louis tells him gently to wait.
a hand cups Will's cheek. ]
It certainly seems like long enough to be "always." There are things in this life meant to be savored, Will, and you are one of them.
[ Louis lets the robe fall from his shoulders, discarding it on the bed. he tips Will's chin up for a kiss before he rearranges himself to settle behind him, pulling his hips closer. there are more favored positions, but there is something inside him that stirs at the image of the king on his knees. he's already hard, rubbing the length of his cock up against Will's sweet hole. ]
You look beyond the point of waiting, but you're being so good.
[ before long, he's pressing inside of him again as if it's second nature, with a long, slow thrust. ]
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He is a wise king, a gentle king, and he knows that his reign is one that will be marked by his wisdom and his love of peace. But even wise kings have their vices, and he is beginning to realize that his may be an addiction to the pleasures of the flesh. He's already so damn hard — so close to the edge that when he sees Louis disrobe he almost comes from the sight of him alone. His husband's beauty seizes him in a way that makes him lock up with desire, so obviously overflowing with need that he's deliciously submissive to all of Louis's requests.
So small, so soft, so pliant, so greedy... how can one man be this sweet? Will lets his husband kiss him, lets his husband take up position behind him — lets everything happen to him because he's so incredibly excited that he can't think of anything else but how badly he wants this. He's so obviously in need, nearly shaking with anticipation as that thick cock takes up position at his entrance, outright trembling as it begins to breach him. He moans loudly as it pushes in in in all the way to the place where he wants it to be, and — ]
A-Ah — Louis, L-Louis...
[ He's far beyond the point of waiting, but he looks so, so damn good — Will comes as soon as Louis pushes into him, and in a way that he didn't come before. He's trembling from head to toe as his orgasm rushes through him, as his cum stains the sheets beneath him and his slick, warm insides tighten around Louis's cock as if welcoming him in.
Such a sweet, sensuous body, deliciously and subtly curvaceous, all Louis's for the claiming, Louis's alone to conquer...
So good, Louis says, and the delicate thrill of praise makes Will feel as if he's coming all over again. ]
Ngh, I — ah, mmn —
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it's satisfying to watch Will give into those desires, breathless and quivering, breaking apart on the sheets. they were careful, for so long, not to show weakness in front of one another, always playing a quiet power game. there's nothing left to do anymore than bask in the affection, and allow Will to fall apart without consequence.
there are other positions that are more favorable to the two of them, but Louis can't help but enjoy the view from where he is. the king kneeling in front of him, trembling in the thighs, gripping the sheets and whimpering as he comes. there's a fine curve in his back, and the shadow of his spine, the way he twists his pretty limbs against the bed, and the tangle of silver hair, softly matted, much like the rest of him.
Louis does offer him a moment of reprieve, but not much of one. ]
Is there enough for one more?
[ he asks slyly, dragging his hands from Will's waist to his hips, settling there to hold him still, allow him the freedom to fall apart as much as he'd like.
Louis starts slow, with long, deep thrusts. selfishly, he wants to enjoy Will like this, after a full night of pleasure, both their bodies sweaty after so many claims. it feels good with each squeeze, keeping his breath paced to the roll of his hips. ]
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Louis is moving. It takes Will's breath away in the best possible way, the slick churning feeling of his husband's thick cock gliding back and forth inside him; he moves from pleasure to pleasure, coming out of the aftershocks of his orgasm into new thrills of ecstasy each time Louis's cock hilts deep or slides across a particular spot that makes him feel improbable pleasure thrilling through his cock and his belly through to the very tip of his tongue. ]
Yes — yes, always, for you...
[ They've been joined like this before, in different positions. One time, when their trysts were more guilty and they both knew that they had to kill the other eventually, Louis had had Will standing up, braced against his bookshelf, taking short slow thrusts that had Will trembling and falling apart. Another time, he'd tumbled Will into the couch in his office, spread him out there, pressed into him with a hunger that could have conquered him. Those were idyllic days, for them — and then Louis had grown cold, and sent Will away to Virga Island, as if he himself realized that the call of his own lust had become a liability to him.
(Perhaps he simply feared what would become of his black heart if he learned to love.)
But this, now — this position is exquisite. Will succumbs to Louis's cock, tensing and twitching around it and welcoming him deeper and deeper, falling apart completely, his expression lost to lust. He's drooling a little, but he doesn't care; the more he's fucked, the more heavily he sinks into the sheets, relaxing fully, lost in how good it feels to have sex with Louis Guiabern. ]
You f-feel... so good — ah —
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there's no need to hold back anymore; those feelings of affection that bubble to the surface can be sharpened like a knife, much like his other emotions. the two of them had put each other through various types of hell already, and Will had already proven that he was strong enough not to die, no matter how they tried to kill each other. ]
Good ...
[ he says it as if he meant to add to it, but he can't, the words lose themselves in the breath of his throat. the king twitches around his cock, urging him deeper, soft and slick, and drunk on the desire. the pleasure pools in his belly, somewhere in his groin and feels hot. this isn't something he finds he wants to hold, even as his thrusts slow, he runs his fingers along Will's cock, up the shaft and along the shape of the head. with a deep breath he releases, holding his king up with one hand, pleasuring him with the other.
he had tried so hard to become the king through violence, but now he was the king through love. ]
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— except for the rush, the addictive spark of euphoria he feels when Louis's hand snakes around his waist and starts tugging on his sweet little prick. He feels positively triumphant when he hears Louis exhale from behind him, long and deep and exhilarating in a way he normally never allows himself. The pleasure of feeling his lover come inside of his body, fill him up completely — the sheer euphoria of feeling something hot and slick around the rim of his hole, knowing that it's Louis's, all Louis's, and Louis is his husband now...
Even sex feels like a battle between the two of them, and Will loves the satisfaction of having Louis Guiabern on his back foot. It doesn't take long for Will to spill, once he knows that Louis has found release, too, and those insistent fingers between his legs have worked his own cock to bursting again — he grips Louis's wrist, tips his head back, moans his lover's name, and then he's surrendered again. ]
Louis — oh, Louis...
[ He's just so very pretty. Slim and nude in Louis's arms, holding Louis's cock between his legs so nicely. Hair tousled, a fine mist of sweat over his back, smelling sweet despite the tang of salt and exertion. All slim curves and yielding body, dripping wet and still ready for more. A king to be conquered, still kingly in his desecration.
He feels so, so good. Such perfection. So addictive, and it's only their wedding night. ]
I...
[ He shudders, tasting pleasure through all of his senses, leaning limp against Louis's arms. ]
I love you so much...
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now that they have time for one another, Louis is finding that the new king is absolutely insatiable. while this is their wedding night, they've already coupled several times, and Louis still has the fresh bruises on his collar to show for it. there's a moment where he wonders, absently, how he's going to keep up.
it's still surprising to learn Will can talk and muttering soft affections that Louis still not used to hearing. he has to pull out before he can rearrange a limp Will in his arms, allowing gravity to press their sticky bodies together for the king to enjoy. ]
I'm still more used to having your blade to my throat than hearing you utter those words.
[ he's somewhat amused, but still self-aware to some extent. that loneliness is still hollow inside of him, but it will become faraway soon enough, it will just take time.
Louis Guiabern is not the sort of man who's used to being loved. ]
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The only way things could be more perfect would be if they could be wiped clean of their sweat... but there's something nice about staying sticky, too. Secretly, he likes the way Louis smells after a bit of exertion. ]
I could say the same to you...
[ Bleary-eyed and blurry in his vision, Will still isn't tired enough to drift off to sleep. His interest catches, instead, on the shawl of bruises he left on Louis's neck earlier. Tenderly, he traces their darkening shapes, marveling and what he's done to his lover. ]
You had so many chances to kill me at the opera house, and yet you didn't. You said I was hesitating... but I think you were, too.
[ And there may have been many reasons for that. Not all of them can be chalked up to love. Still, thinking back on all of it now... Will would like to believe that love stayed Louis's hand, then. ]
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Louis tosses his hair to the side to make it more manageable as he settles down on the bed with Will sticking to him. now that they're quiet enough, he can make the time through the lightless windows. a deep darkness, pricked with the barest light of the moon, Louis figures it must be early enough in the morning for the sun to still slumber – they've been at it long enough that he lost time.
Will speaks of times when his hair was still blue, and the prince still slumbered like the morning sun. Louis regards him curiously; they had been working out so many of their own problems, that Will never asked him about his headspace before their grand finale. ]
Hn?
[ a hm turns to a purr in his throat. ]
Part of me was, perhaps. Until then, I didn't believe the elda still living after the massacre at the Sanctum wanted to leave the protection of their forest. I thought they would slowly die out, haunted and alone. When your boldness and poor planning brought you to my doorstep, I found myself proven wrong.
[ Will was something that not even his closest confident got his true thoughts on, not Fidelio, and not Zorba. ]
You were an anomaly to me, predictable yet somehow without restraint. At that time, I could not say that I was capable of any form of devotion, but you fascinated me to the point of madness. You held something I had lost long ago, simultaneously reminding me that I could never regain it, but holding some hope that it was still within me.
Both Fidelio and Zorba found my fondness for you unnerving, as if a decade of moving pieces would somehow crumble from your mere presence. Looking back at such a time, they were both correct.
[ he closes his eyes for a moment. ]
Selfishly, I wanted to discard my life's ambition and take you from your friends and travel beside you, yet I wanted to be the one kill you, too. Since I could not have the former, I had to settle on the latter, but the former remained a possibility in my brain, because you made many things seem possible.
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Will listens patiently. Takes it all in. The low purr of Louis's voice, tinged with a hint of sleepy exhaustion. Perfection in his ears. This is the first time Louis has been so open with him, so vulnerable, and he's suffered so much, in his own way. The desire to kill Will because he could not bear with the thought of wanting him — Will understands that impulse more than what ought to make sense for his position. ]
...You have me now.
[ Aching in his heart, Will pushes himself up enough to gently cradle Louis's face in both of his hands. He needs — he knows that Louis doesn't need comfort, but he needs to comfort Louis, all the same. If he had reached out earlier, if he had thought about Louis's position earlier... ]
You don't have to take me from my friends. You can be by my side, and travel with me... You have me now, ever and always.
[ His eyes are intense and glimmer in the dim moonlight as he gazes at Louis with an affection that borders on ferocity. ]
I love you, Louis.
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even the archdemon wore little. ]
Yes, I have you now.
[ perhaps in all of that, he was desperate to connect with someone, and thought he could with Will. well, that was true – or is true – given that the king is now beside him.
he slips away, brushing his lips up against Will's palm before leaning over him, reaching just above his head for something on the side table. the king isn't kept in suspense for long, as Louis leans down to mimic what he had done just hours ago, tucking the same flower from the Eldan Sanctum behind his ear. ]
The world will never have all of you, but I will.
[ with a low voice, he leans over Will again, offering a brief kiss, like a promise, before settling beside him.
the bed is filled more fully with two on it, much like those long nights that Louis had settled around the king as he slept in sickness. there's even a slight dip where Louis lays, pulling Will in toward him. ]
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Utterly satisfied both sexually and emotionally, Will leans his cheek against Louis's black heart, and finally, finally lets himself rest.
He wanted this so badly. Back when he was sick. It's his now — his forever. Louis is his forevermore.
The Senate is quiet. They do not call for an official meeting. A few silent messengers are dispatched in the dead of the night, but nothing is settled on quite yet. Louis's new position as the king's consort changes the trajectory of their calculations quite wildly, and in many ways, they never recovered from the loss of Forden. The Senate's best schemer now is the Igniter Consortium Head, but his position has grown more and more threatened by Brigitta's grabs for power, of late.
At least one decision is finalized, however. The Senate can come to no consensus but this — a familiar resolution which Will himself once made, long ago:
Louis Guiabern must die.
...In the morning, Will does not think about how the Senate must be scheming against him. He is freshly married, and he has just enjoyed his wedding night, and the giddiness of his nuptials is still at the forefront of his mind.
Still half-asleep, he snuggles up against his husband, outright rubbing his face on Louis's chest (his cheek slipped a little in his sleep, his nose is nestled against bare skin instead of that gilded melancholized organ now). His arm is resting comfortably in the dip of Louis's waist. He likes the way Louis's body dips into the mattress, too, though part of him wonders if they should get a harder mattress to better support his husband's big body.
It's warm, and nothing seems to be going on outside. Will lingers dreamily in the space between slumber and wakefulness, but the more he lays next to Louis, the more excited he gets all over again. Married, he thinks to himself gleefully. I've married Louis Charadrius. And the more gleeful he gets, well, the more the man in his bed can probably just... tell. That he's awake. He isn't moving, but he might as well be vibrating with excitement, the way his magla is leaking out of him: pure contentment. ]
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Louis has been awake for a while, lounging like a large, comfortable cat who is in no rush to rise in the early morning. while as a soldier he has quite a bit of discipline, when he wishes to be rebellious, he takes the opportunity. there's no need to rush, and Will is only on the verge of waking, comfortable enough to be lulled back into sleep. the sun is already hovering over the horizon, saluting to mid-morning as both kings ignore its passage in favor of their own comfort.
he's part way through a passage in his book when he feels Will stir in earnest beside him, rather than shuffling and fading again. wordlessly, he sets the book on the table beside the bed, and without so much as a greeting, he pins his new husband beneath him, kisses him and has him again. their meetings were always guided by politics, and perhaps Louis is feeling a bit of refreshing rebellion in the freedom to have sex, sleep beside each other, and wake up that way in the morning. the faded memory of last night's events are solidified as he guides Will's legs around his waist once again. he fucks him again into the mattress, leaving no room for Will to catch his breath, until they're both feeling the linger of their orgasms.
it's not until afterward that he speaks. ]
You need something of sustenance to break your morning fast.
[ he sits at the edge of the bed, twisting his hair and tossing it over his shoulder to keep it from getting in the way of him finding that robe that he threw some were last night. ]
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He was already — he feels a dirty little thrill just thinking about it — loose and waiting for his husband, so it's no issue at all that Louis has apparently been brimming with carnal desire for him all morning. It's incredibly arousing, actually. So easy, just so ridiculously easy for the most beautiful man in Euchronia to kiss Will awake and fuck him hard in the sheets until he's satisfied — until they're both satisfied. Morning sex leaves Will shaking post-orgasm, pleasantly breathless, with fresh cum on his belly and between his legs, hazy from the shift to hazy wakefulness to sexual pleasure to ecstasy.
...To a certain degree, the king is actually a little dazed and confused. (No good morning?! Just sex?! Is he going to want it like this all the time?! Ah, that might not be so bad... He might really, really like that...)
Not that Will is complaining. On the contrary, he can't think of anything more perfect than this. Oh, to be roused out of slumber by his husband's perfect body pressing him into place and then rocking perfectly into his own — to have his half-asleep, lazy brain pounded into waking alertness by the exhilarating rush of orgasm — and, indeed, to have nothing on the horizon because he has a solid week from work to enjoy his honeymoon...
He feels a little drained, but happy, too, and certainly wide awake now. Stretching languidly in the sheets, Will props himself up on his arms, rolling onto his stomach, his pert rear looking bouncy and ready for more on the mattress. He gazes at Louis's back fondly, though he himself isn't quite itching to get out of bed just yet. Not when he's got a sinfully handsome husband to admire.
Mmm... Look at him with that cute makeshift side ponytail...
Will's eyes are glazed over with mixed fondness and post-orgasmic contentment. He feels softly aglow. The nation's problems can wait until the afternoon. ]
Should we call the kitchen staff for breakfast?
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the king is sprawled out playfully, butt-up and slim-shouldered, flush in all the right places, as if he knows that it's almost enough to entice Louis back to bed. ]
What would my king like to regain his vital fluids? I'm certain the kitchen will be ready and waiting to hear it.
[ Louis has never been above making a lewd joke or two. he finds the robe (without the sash, as that's still lost) and pulls it just over his shoulders, leaving the center open unabashedly.
there are still a few matters to take into consideration – these are his quarters now as much as they are Will's, so he'll have to move some of his own belongings from one room to another, as well as his own mark on the royal apartments. he's certain Will's friends will want to see him as well, but they can do that at their own pace, Louis selfishly has the king to himself for a while longer. ]
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Mmm, it's almost as good as when he was the Archdemon... ]
Let's just... send to the kitchens for whatever they've prepared this morning. I'm not feeling picky.
[ A lifetime of eating at taverns and accepting the surprises of the inn's daily menu will strip any king of his pickiness, and anyway, the royal chef never disappoints with her selections.
Being king does come with its perks, and despite Will's sweeping reforms across the country, not much, fundamentally, has changed about the operations of the inner palace since the new king claimed his crown. Breakfast is still rolled in on a gorgeous silver tray by a matronly ishkia maidservant who once served in the Shadowguard and whose silence cannot be broken by Sanctist threats or Sanctist coin (staff of lower caliber simply would not be allowed to enter the royal bedchamber after the king's wedding). She exits just as silently as she enters, knowing full well that her king and his equally independent consort both prefer to serve themselves.
Will, who has by now gotten dressed in his own barely-tied nightgown, does not dive into breakfast head first. He instead plucks a grape off of its bunch and holds it out to Louis, his eyes alight with greed to press something to his gorgeous consort's lips.
Married, he whispers to himself. We're married.
It's still thrilling, in spite of the morning, and the night before. ]
Say "ah"...?
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