barrayar | I am junking up this beautiful community with this junk

[He stills, Miles's finger slipping out of his mouth at that fantasy. There's a rush back from him in response, a convoluted mess of uncertain fear (he's so likely to hurt Miles, doing those things) mixed up with fierce, hard need that has reached a boiling point having been denied for so long. Gregor wants to rough him up-- oh, yes. There's no misinterpreting that bit of what comes over the link. But likewise he's afraid of himself in doing so, a hundred vile ghosts of his own tied into it. Miles is right, they need to go slower.

But maybe... maybe if he's feeling that Miles wants that from him, unprovoked, unasked for, he can believe that it's the truth. That Gregor, as long as he's careful, wouldn't be doing anything bad by giving it to him. It seems too much what he wants to be real, and yet earlier Miles had liked his teeth on his neck.

All of it? he challenges back, all that dark intent and churning conflict behind the words. Don't say something you don't mean, tacit beneath it.

He needs to test it. Test his sincerity, that it's not just fantasies. But not-- not too fast, not too much at once, like Miles had thought. Their telepathy gives him another preliminary way to check, and Gregor opens up the fastened box in the corner of his mind that he hides from Miles and lets one vile part of himself slither out: his greed to have power over him, to feel him vulnerable beneath him and accepting. To Gregor, who's been ingrained to hate power, it's horrifying-- and it's exhilarating to imagine that certainty, that there is nothing hidden from him, no weakness he could show, loneliness eradicated. Safety.

This is what you'd be getting yourself into, he seems to say, checking-- me wanting control over you that I am not, actually, meant to be afforded.]

[ A little dangerous, in other words. Gregor, tall dark and dangerous ... The flare of desire that results is a well-worn one indeed. Not just Gregor, or special to him, but also familiar territory. Relatively safe, for all that it might be physically risky. It makes his surge of agreement that much easier to boil up.

All of it, he returns fiercely. There are things he must explore about his sexuality, that he's less sure of, but that's an easy one. You don't quite understand what it means for me to feel that. Because the flip side of that intense physicality, of being utterly at someone else's mercy, is the mercy. Knowing for sure that Gregor truly wants him is the balm that Miles needs to keep going. Gregor doing it for Miles first and foremost, and then himself, is beyond attractive. It adds a ridiculously hot layer to it in fact.

As fast and hard and rough as you can, he continues, blissfully feeding Gregor more mental images. Remember how I stop feeling my body when you're holding onto my pain? It's like that. I forget it. Paradoxically, maybe - he's feeling so much that he can't focus on any one thing, and thus it all slides into beautiful oblivion. ]

[He's right, he didn't understand until Miles showed him. And he probably won't completely until he experiences it, does it and feels that acceptance and enjoyment right inside his head. But even now, feeling that excitement at the idea, eating up all those mental images with a starved hunger, calls out agreement from him.

He can't deny that it'd be for Miles, not himself. Somehow that shade of it had escaped him before, startles him now to realize it-- makes it almost forgivable. Gregor wants to take him apart... but not to see him reduced. He wants to break him down so that he is sure his every component piece has his mark on it, his thumb print, claiming but also proving to Miles how much he loves him, that he can do it with such precise, directed care.

All of that echoes in response to what Miles shares, and finally Gregor answers, humbled, Then I'll try to learn to let that part out. Without panicking myself. It helps, to poke some fun at it, though he still feels twisted up a bit imagining himself actually doing it. For today, I just want to-- to feel you. I want to feel what it's like in your head when you come. When I'm the one who makes you come.

And he places another kiss on his hand, this one oddly chaste in counterpoint to his words, solicitous. Will you let me?]

[ That seems a reasonable compromise. Miles considers it - likes it, he decides, and thrills at the novelty of it at least. He's just so used to their link he hadn't even considered it as an option to enhance their physical relationship, other than being blissfully aware of each other's minds as they go along here. Most importantly this seems safe for Gregor. A good first step. Yes.

It doesn't stop him from grinning a bit wickedly at Gregor, flipping through some other, less taxing options for managing that with Miles. Hands and mouth are both safe enough if they don't want to go too far. He also reaches out to Gregor, tugging him a bit closer in the link. An invitation to step over the line into Miles' head, rather than Miles bursting into Gregor's like a whirlwind as he always does.

Of course. Let's find out how it feels together. ]

[Safe for Gregor, and safe for Miles, who he hasn't forgotten is finding out some new things about his sexuality here. Gregor meanwhile has had several months to come to terms with it, and from before that, really, he'd always had the strong suspicion he wasn't interested in women exclusively. But he knew he'd have to get married eventually, and anyway, he wasn't going to chance starting any rumors that could link him to his father. No, he'd put that whole thread aside.

They're both catching up to each other in different ways, so best not to dive in too quickly. Which does not in any way mean he is less excited for it. He smiles helplessly back at that wicked grin, and accepts that invitation, easing his way into his mind with care and curiosity. Gregor doesn't spend that much time directly in here, given that Miles is always bursting in and is welcome to do it, but now he settles himself in comfortably. The instant, profound feeling of safety is enough to take his breath away.

It shocks him how much more urgency he feels, once sure he's safe, his desire going from a steady undercurrent to a river. He's never experienced that before; his skin prickles with the insistent urge to touch, and with this newfound confidence, he slides gracefully off the bed and down to the floor, sinking to his knees between Miles's. Gregor rests his hands on top of them, eyes meeting his.]

May I? [he asks quietly, out loud, for the verbal confirmation. There's no question what he's asking-- and God but how he wants to, wants it like this, even, with him on his knees and Miles understanding every connotation of how much he's thumbing his nose at all the restraint he usually keeps himself under.]

[ The shift is not a terrible one, at least, to consider one man in addition to his own oblivious heterosexuality. Their stint on Earth has at least introduced him to the concept in a way that isn't Betan, and the Naismith persona has done enough casual flirting for it to trickle back to the Vorkosigan side. The trick will be when he has to identify as something other than heterosexual-with-one-exception. Something to work out later. Something beyond their scope for now.

He welcomes Gregor into his mind gladly, doing the mental equivalent of wrapping both arms around his emperor and holding him close. Gregor can easily feel the texture of Miles' mind at this level of proximity: bright and pulsing with energy on the surface, but teetering above an abyss. There is no subtle shift from top to bottom, no ocean to fall through to get to the core. Miles is all chasms, utter freefall until the impact at the bottom. But the heights are so lovely and bright and warm - Gregor in particular is guided to a safe place for both of them, with the cliff edges far enough away to keep from rolling the both of them off accidentally.

Which is good, because Miles' attention is immediately elsewhere. On Gregor kneeling before him, undoing the height differential between them in one move. He likes that too. He likes nearly any spot on the scale, really. Miles draws in a sharp little breath, his mind twisting into fiery, anticipatory knots. ]

Please. Yes.

[ There's nothing surprising about Miles's inner landscape being sheer drops and firey brightness-- it's so quintessentially Miles, and it puts him at ease to have that running through the back of his head, a constant reassurance of who he's with and how much Miles wants this, and isn't hiding anything. It puts to rest all of his ghosts at once and the resulting lack of nagging worries shocks him all over again.

He'd picked this to start with because it's something he's never done before. There's no reminders here, nothing possible to trip him up. As he looks up at him, he suddenly thinks lack of experience may not be a good thing, given he doesn't know where to start. But before he can get too far down that path, Gregor sinks in further to that knotted-up anticipation and leans on that instead. Lets his own sincere eagerness to do this carry him through any self-consciousness.

(It's Miles. It's Miles, so it's okay to not know what he's doing... it's okay to make a mistake, if he does... He doesn't have to keep himself in check, or watch for anything. It's okay.)

He slides his hands down first, defying expectation. He goes after his shoes and socks, prying them off efficiently but with a sort of attentive interest. All of it feels fresh and fascinating to Gregor, and when he goes to unhinge his leg braces and set them carefully aside, there's no hesitation to him. He already knows how to do it; his hands don't stutter over them. His palms slide up his calves briefly just to feel skin to skin, appreciation all through him, and he retracts them only because he needs them above cloth to proceed. They return one each to the knees on either side of him, and he shifts up properly to start working his way upward. ]

I had a dream about this. [ A short glimpse of his own wicked look. ] About getting to suck you. I remember being extremely disappointed when I woke up.

[ Also intensely sick of himself, but Gregor's not saying that, is resolutely turning this from an unpleasant memory to a better one in this new light. ]

[ Strange how having one's feet tended to can seem so tenderly intimate. Just like kissing Miles' wrists. There's no particular spark at the act - Miles scratches that off on some mental checklist in the back of his head - until Gregor gets to the leg braces. That sets off something of a rather different caliber. Not sexual, but intimate. The braces seem to nearly burn him as Gregor slides them off and sets them aside. And then Gregor's hands linger there for a moment, and it's nearly too much. The appreciation without being reduced to an object, or having his personhood denied ... it's such a small gesture, but it leaves him shaking for a moment.

He's still trembling slightly when Gregor rests his hands on Miles' knees. That enthusiasm doesn't flag - the thrum of keep going doesn't diminish - but there's a second level of effect going on. One of his ghost perching close, to see if this becomes an unpleasant memory turned to a happy one. Just like Gregor, in that respect.

In that context, Gregor mentioning the dream is exactly right. It discharges some of that electric nervousness, giving Miles a chance to ground himself. ]

We can fix that. [ He murmurs the words. ] If you would only help me with my pants ...

[ One day Gregor is going to spend a truly luxurious amount of time just running his hands over every part of him, suffusing every touch with acceptance and admiration, aided by massage oil and some guesses at technique from watching videos. His own direct attempt to be a panacea to Miles's body image issues. That day is not today, but that response to just taking off his leg braces reminds him of how often he's felt that urge. He decides not to float it to Miles, both to keep it a surprise and because he thinks the suggestion alone might overwhelm him right now.

Gregor shoots him a smirk -- not a commonly seen expression on his face -- and consciously puts aside teasing him too much, though that's another fantasy he's going to look forward to fulfilling. This one he does share with Miles. It still sends a thrill through him every time he realizes he can plan on it now. ]

Have you had this done before? [ he asks curiously, because really, he doesn't know. He's only twenty. Gregor's hands creep up his thighs to his waistband, unerringly find the button on his pants, and ease it open. His own anticipation is shifting inside him eagerly as he moves to the zipper, sliding it down... ]

[ Probably best not to; that will be a treasure to approach slowly and gently, under exactly the right conditions. And all the better for it.

Miles snorts a bit at the teasing. Really, Gregor. Who do you think he is? He may shudder to contemplate the outcome of his previous relationships, but he's had them. Had this much, at least. ]

Not quite like this. But yes. It's a bit less - committing than some other things one might try on a first effort.

[ Not that there was any risk of getting a young woman from Beta Colony pregnant. It was also easier on him, still learning his body and its limitations. He didn't want to break anything. This, at least, would have to be rough to the point of unpleasantness for him to risk injury. His breath shudders as Gregor works the zipper down, shifting his hips in anticipation of his own. He is ridiculously hard right now with all this build up. ]

[ At twenty, Gregor hadn't had oral sex yet. He'd had precisely two encounters with diplomats' daughters and he hadn't felt brave enough to suggest anything other than what they wanted, which in their cases was always vaginal sex. But it's no surprise to him that Miles would be far braver and more adventurous than he ever was.

But, yes, no more teasing. Gregor doesn't waste time now: he slips the edge of his underwear low enough to let him spring free, licks a long stripe up his palm to wet it, and takes hold. It's his first time holding another man's cock and he waits for a flare of uncertainty, or self-consciousness, or even more of that disgust he's accustomed to, but this deep in Miles's head, nothing happens. It feels too good to feel that corresponding flare up on contact to doubt anything.

Gregor looks serious and intent, but inside he's all pricking interest and hunger. For a moment he just holds him, explores the feel of it, and then he leans in to place an open-mouthed, messy kiss where the head flares. Testing. ]

Not bad, [ he murmurs. ]

[ Miles twitches his hips in response to that, a shiver going through him both physically and mentally. He artfully holds as still as he can after, not because he doesn't want this - his need is a fire burning all through him, desperate for more - but because he wants to give Gregor enough time to do what he wants to do before Miles loses it. He rather expects that won't take long once h begins in earnest. Every small touch is enough to spark, especially feeling Gregor's mouth ... ]

No - not here, either. Good so far.

[ A bit breathless already. ]

Don't hold back, [ he tells him, eyes darkening with intent. Gregor is shifting on his knees to get into a more comfortable position. ] I want to feel you unrestrained. It won't bother me.

[ Because that's half of what he loves about Miles, the force of his personality and how free and open he is with Gregor. Having sex that way seems like a dream to him-- a hot one. So much easier to be self-assured with all that heat flaring up in his mind uninhibited, and Gregor listens to it, lets it wash over him and wipe away everything else but the present moment.

He leans in and takes him into his mouth, steadying him with one hand, the other resting on his inner thigh. Nothing too wild at first, just taking in the weight and the taste on his tongue, swallowing automatically at the faint, musky bitterness. When Gregor thinks to look up and take in his expression, the exercise stops being academic and becomes inflammatory. This is him, him doing this to Miles, and it's funny that he'd never thought of this as another form of power before.

Gregor makes a soft sound of pleasure and eases down further, starting to suck. ]

[ Just let go, eh. He's usually good at that - and Gregor is helping. It's harder not to just let go like this. He's tilted his head back a little, enough to still watch Gregor through half-lided eyes without staring at him awkwardly. He wants to see Gregor, to know it's him. It's a new thrill each time the realization goes through him again. Gregor doing this for him.

Very gently, he fists one hand in Gregor's hair, careful not to pull. Just steadying himself as Gregor's motions start building even more heat at the base of his being. ]

Not holding back - for you. [ He wants to revel in every moment of this, dammit, and make it last forever. ]

[Unfortunately, it's not going to last forever, though Gregor is just the sort to take his time and not hurry. He likes that hand in his hair, another point of contact, and with them so close mentally it smothers any nerves or doubts before they can find breath.

The result is that he's able to relax and enjoy this, finding it easier than he ever remembers sexual intimacy being before, with anyone. Gregor by no means knows what he's doing, but this time that doesn't matter. They're finding out together, like Miles had said. He loses himself to it after a while, a constant hum of contentment rising up in his head, his own hardness forming between his legs that he ignores. It should be demeaning like this, learning how deep he can go (not very), hearing the obscene slick noises he's making, but it's-- not.

It's oddly empowering. His free hand has found its way up under the hem of Miles's shirt at the back, presses tight to the dip of his curved spine, pulling him in closer in counterpoint to his mouth.

This is better than my dream, he tells him, thrumming with pleasure, after several long minutes of leisurely sucking. Come on, Miles. I want to hear you. And he does, that banked wave of his fierce want earlier starting to build back up inside him.]

[ He's close already to begin with; the extra wave of want is enough to send him over the edge, toppling him mentally and physically. A split second is all the warning he really ha, but it's enough for him to reach out to Gregor too, offering to intertwine them. He doesn't know if he can share an orgasm like this but it seems a crime not to try. At least Gregor will be able to see what Miles is feeling ...

A soft groan escapes his lips as he comes. Louder as he goes, taking Gregor's encouragement literally. Inside his head the orgasm is a starburst of bright hot heat - scorching his senses to nothing for a moment, leaving only smudged black shadows behind. His hand tenses in Gregor's hair and then relaxes as the aftershocks go through him and then begin to subside.

He honestly can't remember the last time he'd had one hat good. Apparently it does make a hell of a difference who he's with. Someone inside his head who cares about every aspect of sex, not just getting off (though that part is good too, oh yes.) He gasps afterwards, leaning back against the hand pressed to his spine. ]

[ It's the strangest feeling, mind blowing in fact, to feel the orgasm through someone else's head and not his own. He groans, though it's lost and quieter compared to Miles, and feels his erection twitch insistently in his pants even as he's swallowing down come. Gregor has no chance to decide how he feels about swallowing, because having Miles's pleasure coursing through him like a live wire makes the decision for him-- it feels amazing to swallow around him during orgasm, to pull off at just the right time when it's getting too sensitive.

He absently wipes his mouth off, breathing hard. Miles leaning back against his hand provokes him to rise up from his knees and press him down on the bed beneath him, an awkward, uncomfortable position for Gregor that he does not care one whit about. He wants him under him, wants to feel him gasping. His mouth fastens to his neck again, at the same spot he'd aborted midway through earlier (he might be developing a thing for Miles's neck, he thinks remotely) and cradles his smaller form to him as he lets him ride out the boneless aftermath, suckling lightly at his throat. ]

[ Miles laughs at that. Not unkindly, oh no. It's sheer joy, and relief, and goddammit Gregor give him a chance to recover before doing something like that. He almost wishes he hadn't come quite so hard so that he could better appreciate Gregor leaning over him. As it is he's just kind of gooey and breathless, arms flung around Gregor's shoulders and pressing the other man closer to his neck. More of that, god yes please...

He sighs softly, fingers threading through the hair at the base of Gregor's neck. Chest rising and falling against Gregor's as he gets his breath back in slow bursts. Murmured, half-joking: ]

Is it too early to propose?

[ Marriage is a fraught topic for Gregor, but he manages to suppress all the layers of complication and grieved regret that he can't just marry Miles and take it in good spirits. He's still aroused and luxuriating in Miles's happiness, taking it as encouragement to set his hands on his waist and tug him farther up the bed. Miles weighs little enough (definitely under a hundred pounds) that this is easily possible, and Gregor crawls up after him to drape himself over him more fully.

It's the fulfillment of a deep-seated desire he's always denied before, and feeling how much Miles enjoys it makes it impossible to resist. ]

Are you really volunteering for an Imperial Wedding? [ He laughs faintly, burying his face in his shoulder again. As long as he manages not to say Empress, he thinks he can keep this away from memories of Cavilo. ]

[ Very light, both from his skinny frame and his fragile bones; seventy pounds at most, and probably closer to sixty. But oh so appreciative, yes, even laughing a bit more as Gregor just kind of manhandles him on the bed. Also good. He lets a hand trail down Gregor's neck to the front of his shirt; he'd rather like to undo those buttons with his teeth. ]

Oh, god. Please tell me we could elope instead. [ He is more than happy to keep it light. Cavilo is in the back of his mind too, and god forbid Gregor have even the hint of a thought that Miles might want this for power. Perish the thought. Power would be a thing barring him from wanting - this. ]

[ There's a soft voiceless murmur of encouragement at that urge to undo his buttons. Gregor is absolutely never undressed outside of his bedroom except on the rare occasions he goes swimming, so this is quite a thing for him to feel so comfortable with it.

Gregor knows that the last thing Miles wants is to be tied to a desk (Prince-Consort, if such a position were to exist, would invariably be a desk job) and doesn't imagine at all that it's entering into the equation. But it's extremely powerful to him that Miles knows about the Imperium and all that that entails, resting on Gregor's shoulders, knows it and doesn't want it but wants him. Every single piece of that must come together exactly that way for him to fall for someone. The joking is light and he has to keep it that way to contend with the churning emotion that goes through him, but that amber-gold love seeps its way over him again. ]

I'm all for it. Make good on our cover story. [ Gregor nips at his ear playfully. ] You've run off with the Emperor and the Emperor's Own Army and we've declined to return until the fuss is over. [ It's so patently ridiculous that it immediately achieves the status of impossible fantasy. ]

[ Miles does lean up just enough to start undoing them, then. (The teeth prove to be a bit ridiculous in practice, though he recovers my leaning up to kiss the hollow of Gregor's neck as he works with his fingers instead.) Meanwhile taking in that lovely amber-gold love, letting it pool down with the rest still glowing prettily at the bottom of his psyche. He could get addicted to feeling it. It's just so good to have this absolute wonderful thing filtering down into his soul ...

When he's undone enough buttons he slides a hand in, running his fingers lightly along the lines of Gregor's stomach muscles. ]

Ha. What a lovely image, at least until Simon Illyan catches up with us ... I can see the lecture now.

I defy anyone to try to lecture me on being with you. [ There's enough dark intent behind that that makes it clear Gregor will not brook being told no by any uninvolved parties on this subject, not here in De Chima where Barrayar does not exist, and that's the framing context for this impossible fantasy.

He stretches himself up more thoroughly, like a pleased cat, in response to the touches. Possessiveness sparks through him, starting to find more confident purchase; it turns the amber-gold love spiked and protective, sharp. ]

I daresay you wouldn't have anyone who would. Nearly everyone thinks we're already involved.

[ Even his own mother had made sly comments, he realizes in retrospect. His breath hitches as that protectiveness comes through as well - sharper, but oh so bracing as well. He continues to move his hand in slow circles, just feeling, experimentally, for a good place to linger. ]

Because of how our relationship comes off, right? I'm sorry about that-- I couldn't think of a way to discount it, and I thought it had to be awful for you...

[ That guilt probably seems out of place now, but Gregor can't quite let it go. Miles wants to be with him now, or at least to try it out (and what he'll do if he decides it's not for him after all, he has no clue) but that doesn't mean he'd wanted untrue rumors spread about, interfering with his relationships.

As for the physical half of this, Gregor has gone a bit remote with the guilt, has to divert learned habits of response in order to tap into genuine ones. He curls deeper in Miles's head, takes reassurance from it, and lets himself swing one leg over one of Miles's. It places him in the perfect position to press against him as long as he's careful about not putting all his weight on him. ]

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