[Closed Post] ..shining through the hollow..

[lanselos_du_lac]

Once Lancelot has left Magnus and Galahad in the greenhouse, he goes looking for Laertes. He can admit he has had the urge to check in on everyone, in the wake of Magnus' incident, but he has realized that it's been some days and he misses Laertes' company.

So he goes seeking, checking in on the places he thinks Laertes might be, and eventually finding him in that same parlor they'd sat together in before. Lancelot pauses in the doorway, and then clears his throat and says, "I do hope I'm not interrupting."

Despite the clear fact that he intends to interrupt. He is grinning.

Comments

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Court ladies swim rarely, and not with men about. I only had anything on in the water if I ended up there by accident."

[timebethine]

"I think I would like to see thee dressed for swimming," says Laertes, and he settles a warm palm upon Lancelot's thigh.

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Oh? Rather than swim as I usually would?"

[timebethine]

"I mean dressed as thou usually wouldst." His hand creeps up just a little higher.

[lanselos_du_lac]

A laugh, "That would be not at all."

[timebethine]

"Hast caught my drift."

[lanselos_du_lac]

He snuggles Laertes a little closer and says, teasing, "Bit cold, now, is it not?"

[timebethine]

"Ay--but worth the wait."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Thou dost sound certain."

[timebethine]

"All that I've seen has suited me well," says Laertes, "and all that I haven't tempts me." He shifts a little in Lancelot's arms so that he can tuck his face into the crook of Lancelot's neck.

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot makes a contented sound, stroking back Laertes' hair. After a little pause he says, "I like the smell of thee."

[timebethine]

"Oh?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Mmhmm," kissing his temple. "There is the scent of thy soap, but I mean what is under that."

[timebethine]

"Sweat, skin, and hair are their own heady perfume," Laertes manages; for some inexplicable reason, his clothes feel too tight and his skin is burning.

[lanselos_du_lac]

"That is so," he agrees. He shifts again, and tips Laertes' chin up to kiss him.

[timebethine]

It's so hard not to bear him down onto the sofa--not to gather his hands over his head and hold him pinned, or to let those kisses shade into bites. But for Lancelot, Laertes can be patient. He can be gentle. He can inhale through his nose as he chases the kiss deeper, letting Lancelot answer at his own pace.

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot's fingers find their way up under the hem of Laertes' shirt, and he deepens the kiss.

[timebethine]

Laertes can't help a sharp gasp at that--an inhalation that draws the breath from Lancelot's mouth. He turns a little more so that he can get a hand on Lancelot's ribs--over his clothes, but firm, intent.

[lanselos_du_lac]

His touch skims up Laertes' back, along his spine, and he holds the kiss.

[timebethine]

"Please," breathes Laertes, not knowing what he's asking for--just knowing that the feeling of Lancelot's hand on his bare skin is electrifying, and he's a sparking wire.

[lanselos_du_lac]

He encourages Laertes into his lap, so that he can get both hands up under his shirt.

[timebethine]

And maybe it's just that overwhelming force of wanting, and the equal and opposite force of restraint holding him back--once released, he snaps. He swarms up into Lancelot's lap and bears him down to the sofa cushions, kissing his neck urgently, whispering thou sweet man and my knight of promised summer.

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot breathes, "Ah, Christ--" His fingers flex against Laertes' back.

[timebethine]

"Good?" Laertes asks, hovering barely more than a breath from Lancelot's throat.

[lanselos_du_lac]

"God, art thou teasing? Of course it's good." He laughs, breathless and flushed.