Hello from the future. I'm back with WIP Wednesday for the first time in aaaaaages. I just finished a life so changed, but I have a few things in the works for firstprince, jerejean and lamen :)
RWRB, FirstPrince || keep driving — immediate post-canon road trip to the cotswolds
Alex is still wrapping his head around this dating a Prince thing.
Not the Henry of it all—he’s well, uh, wrapped around his charming, Apollo-esque boyfriend with his soft smiles and sharp wit. It’s the tea and crumpets of it all that he’s still adjusting to. Whether to stick his pinky out when he sips from their delicate china cups. Which fork to use at dinner.
Mary keeps shooting him looks each time he accidentally knocks his spoon against the side of his bowl. It’s just that the pumpkin and brown-sugar soup actually has the audacity to taste good, and he’s eager to spoon up every drop lest they try to feed him underseasoned chicken again. Alex winces at the second scrape and quickly pops his spoon in his mouth.
Across the table from him, Henry looks up from his own bowl. His blonde hair is soft and wavy; his sweater is a cornflower blue that brings out the colour of his eyes. The side of his mouth quirks up as their eyes meet, and the unmistakable tinkle of china follows. Alex smirks at him and pulls the spoon from his mouth with a pop!
At the end of the table, Mary delicately clears her throat. Alex’s eyes swivel up to her, his mood darkening a fraction as he takes note of her stony expression. Henry doesn’t quail beneath it, but it does have a sobering effect, his humour sputtering out.
Annoyed, Alex inches his foot out under the table until he brushes Henry’s. His boyfriend’s eyes fly up and catch his, and Alex turns his face away just enough to make a funny face out of Mary’s line of sight.
Henry’s blue eyes glitter with amusement, his spark flickering brighter again. Alex responds by hooking his foot around Henry’s ankle and resting it there for the rest of the meal, a warm tether, a way to take some of the too much.
All for the Game, Jerejean || glazed and confused — aka Jean is a pottery teacher and Jeremy's workplace are his pottery n sip students for the night
Laila stamps on his foot and he almost jumps. Clearing his throat, Jeremy gets to his feet and summons back his smile. “Hi, there. I’m Jeremy. I believe you’re the one I’ve been emailing with?”
Jean fixes his grey eyes on him and Jeremy has to try very hard to remain calm and collected. Jean nods, placing the two extra wine glasses down and offering his hand. “Jean,” he says in a French accent that sends a flicker of heat racing down Jeremy’s spine.
“Jeremy,” Jeremy manages to say back, and then mentally kicks himself for the repetition. He ignores a titter by his elbow and presses on. “This is a lovely studio. We’re very grateful to you for hosting us tonight. Some of us are more artistic than others, but I’m sure we’ll all manage a cup under your guidance.”
Jean pauses in his movements. He takes a look down the table before his eyes flick back to Jeremy’s own. “It is not particularly hard. I will step in if anyone requests my help.”
Jeremy is very, very sure he hears a whisper of I need you to under someone’s breath. And, well, can he blame them? He can’t take his eyes off Jean as he peels off to the refrigerator and comes back with two chilled bottles of wine.
Right. Pottery ‘n’ Sip.
Jeremy will not be sipping. Not only because he has to drive, but because he needs his wits about him if he’s going to be listening to Jean and his goddamn French accent all night.
“I have water, too, for those of you that prefer it,” Jean adds and gestures towards the refrigerator. No one moves.
Jean says nothing. Only crosses to the workbench sitting parallel to their little group and begins to pick up clumps of clay with careful hands.
“Close your mouth, J,” Xavier hisses and Jeremy quickly looks away, shaking his head at his second-in-charge.
“If I didn’t know how surprised you are right now,” Cody remarks, “I might think you planned this.”
“I did plan this.”
“Yeah, but not … this.” Cody gestures over to where Jean has picked up more clumps of clay. This time, his back is to them, and Jeremy tries very hard not to overly appreciate the way the apron cinches his waist nor the tight hug of his chinos.
Jeremy sends him a shut up and quiet down smile as Jean turns around and makes his way to their end of the table.
anddddddd I can't forget about Lamen either.
Captive Prince, Lamen || (unnamed yet) post-canon, one year after Kings Rising the two meet in a tavern near Ravenel
A bowl of stew is placed before him alongside a large tankard. He downs both as the sky darkens and the stable boy comes in to build the fire higher, feeding the orange mouth logs until the chill is driven away. If he strains his ears, he swears he can almost hear the music from the square.
When a particularly loud group enters the tavern, Damen drains the last of his ale. “The room?” He asks, slipping off the stool.
“Two floors up, first door on the left,” the barmaid who had served him says, jerking her chin toward the stairwell.
Damen thanks her and ascends the two flights of stairs, his cloak trailing behind him. When he reaches the top floor, he pushes open the first door on the left and turns to pull the deadbolt into place. He wiggles the doorknob and, satisfied, turns to survey the room.
On his bed lies a man, pellucid eyes tracking Damen as Damen unfastens his cloak and lets it fall, pooling around his ankles.
“Hello, lover,” says the man.
Damen’s heart grows three sizes. “Hello, sweetheart.”
He crosses the room in two strides and meets the heel of Laurent’s boot with the firm ridges of his chest. Laurent gazes up at him from under pale lashes as Damen runs a hand up the underside of his finely made boot, the leather supple under his fingertips.
Over a great many months, Damen has become good at this. He unlaces the shoe with deft fingers and pulls it off. The other comes off easier, but Damen keeps hold of Laurent’s ankle this time. He kisses the inner part of Laurent’s foot and then his ankle joint before pressing his thumbs into the arch and beginning to massage.
Laurent’s eyes close, brows lifting ever so slightly in pleasure. Damen watches the planes of his face, the haughtiness falling away. In their year together, Laurent has learned to drop the mask, and he sighs softly as Damen reaches for his other foot and begins to work that one too.
“I missed you,” Damen says.
Happiness rises in Damen again as he surveys Laurent, his pulse quickening as he observes the pinkening of Laurent’s cheeks. He has removed his doublet already, leaving him only in thin, piquant cotton, through which Damen can spot the line of his clavicles and curve of his pectorals.
Laurent’s eyes are soft as he says, “And I, you.”
Damen presses his tongue against the back of his front teeth, trying not to chuckle. He feels Laurent taut beneath him, his body primed to launch into action at any moment. So, he puts Laurent’s foot down.
“Perhaps, I should bathe.”
“Bathe,” Laurent repeats.
“I am dusty from my ride,” Damen shrugs. He leans back on his hunches and pulls at his own doublet, discarding it. His undercloth is dark, still clinging to him in some places, pressed into his skin during the long ride. “I will hurry,” he promises, voice low.
Laurent surveys him with austerity, though the darkness of his eyes gives him away. “I suppose that is prudent,” he murmurs.
Damen peels his undershirt off and discards it. “Do I have your leave?” he prompts.
Silence stretches between them. Damen attunes himself to each of Laurent’s breaths, each shift of his lightly muscled body, and waits for the knot in Laurent to loosen.
Laurent muses in silence. His left leg, bent at the knee, falls open. Damen stays poised before him. His chest rises and falls as Laurent’s foot inches down the silks. Eyes locked on Damen’s, Laurent lifts his foot and hooks it behind Damen’s elbow. “And if I ask you to attend to me first?”
“Then, it would be my honour, my king.”
Okay, that was a lot of words. point is, I'm excited to share some new stuff after posting titanic au for the last two months!
tagging a bunch because I want to hear what you're all working on - @cha-melodius, @anyroomsrio, @bigswitchenergyy, @onthewaytosomewhere, @welcometololaland, @14carrotghoul, @kj-bee, @songliili, @ninzied, @books2beach, @miharaikko, @dragonflylady77, @judasofsuburbia, @kiwiana-writes, @lfg1986-2, @marzelgrimm, @nocoastposts, @myheartalivewrites, @run-for-chamo-miles, @tailsbeth-writes, @dizzymisslizzie, @crownedinlove, @whispered-story, @ebelila, @theprinceandagcd, @youtookmethere
