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

[ 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. ]

I didn't mind, Gregor. I was just terribly afraid for you. I had thought - given everything - you'd be very leery of this.

[ Trying not to call down the shadow of Serg now, dammit, not when Gregor is pressing down against Miles outright. Just enough pressure to feel good too, without straining his bones ... He finds himself recovering more quickly than expected in the face of all this. ]

I am, [ he says lowly. ] I'm having to fight myself every step of the way. But I don't care. If it's a contest between you and-- and them, it's always you. You're worth more.

[ And damn them, anyway, damn them both. Gregor feels defiant out of nowhere, and impulsively settles his weight lower, to the point that it's getting a little dangerous with how breakable Miles is. He's braced himself on his forearms on either side of Miles's head, and he laces the fingers of one hand in his hair tightly.

His arousal is obvious and insistent against him. ]

[ That's just now beginning to hurt, but Miles doesn't care. Not with Gregor leaning over him and threading his fingers through Miles' hair. He wishes it were a bit longer, less military ... maybe he'll let it grow out here.

All tangential. It takes him a moment to take that comment in - worth more, more than any of them - and take a breath, treasuring the feeling. Only then does he allow himself a rather wicked grin as he looks down and considers his options. ]

Let me make it easier then. Let's take another step together.

[ Grow his hair a couple inches just so Gregor can have something to tug? He catches that thought and a whole ripple goes through him, banked lust roaring up again. That grin doesn't help. ]

Oh, yeah?

[ A bit of a challenge to that. ]

[ Well. If Miles had any doubt about Gregor being up for more ... The real question is what. He doesn't have the supplies necessary for anything more direct, alas, though he suspects he could pilfer something from his parents' room. (There's a wild thought.) Better to get creative with what he has.

So he leans up a little, kissing Gregor firmly while his hands slide up Gregor's chest, to where his shirt is still hanging open. Very slowly, very deft with his hands, peeling back the shirt as far as it will go without Gregor having to lift his arms. Let me see all of you, he thinks, opening his eyes just enough to take in Gregor's form as he kisses. ]

[ Miles is ambitious, having wild thoughts like that. Gregor honestly isn't thinking anything more than his hand, isn't sure he'd be prepared for much more-- he can't even bring himself to ask for that much, too conscientious still of drawing Miles into something he doesn't want. When it's all him focused on Miles's pleasure, it's simple. Unambiguous. Gregor's turn...

Gregor sits up to help in the effort, balancing himself on his knees rather than Miles's leg, and shucks off the rest of his shirt before carefully lowering himself again. Not as heavily this time, a bit farther away to let him look. The challenge has all gone out of him with that unadorned request just to see him; it deconstructs his defenses, leaves him teetering inside and ultimately complacent.

You already did. But you can see this, too. He's glad they switched to mind-speak with the intimacy of the moment. Miles probably hasn't seen Gregor shirtless in years-- at least since adulthood. ]

[ Not since adulthood, and only rarely before then; it's not as though either of them had much access to traditional childish methods of rough-housing. He settles back just for a moment, tilting his head back to take Gregor in. Would he probably be enjoying this more if Gregor were a woman? Eh. Probably. But as he rakes his gaze along Gregor's stomach, up to his chest and lean, molded shoulders ... That's really not what's on his mind right now. Just Gregor, only Gregor, in sum totality. Gregor's right, after all - Miles has seen all of him, from the bottom of his soul up.

That doesn't make this trust between them any less amazing. He revels in it as much as he does in the sight of Gregor's body. Good god, you're attractive, he says, light but deeply appreciative. He could definitely get used to men. All of you. Mentally and physically. ]

[ Gregor usually does not like flattery. It drives him up a wall, even sincerely meant a lot of the time, because all he can hear is the echo of another hundred false words that sounded so similar.

But he's never had someone he outright loved flatter him before, and it tears down every resistance, leaves him bare. Gregor ducks his head, flustered and pleased and burning with the skin-prickling sensation of being seen, in every way. Normally he hates that, too, even more intensely, but-- again, he's never had someone he was willing to be this vulnerable around.

And he is vulnerable, intensely so. It's not about taking his shirt off. It's about how long he's wanted someone to really know him and then say that they liked what they saw, someone whose opinion he respects. Gregor actually flushes a light dusting of pink as he drags his eyes back up to Miles again.

No less than you. Every time you sit on the counter, you're at the perfect height for kissing. I can't stop noticing. ]

[ Good. A good reaction, all of it. He takes in another long look at Gregor's body - slides his hands lightly along Gregor's stomach - and leans back comfortably against the bed. Fingers still tracing the contours of his muscles...

You mean an actual normal height, he thinks back, teasing. If I'd been as tall as I was supposed to be, I'd be at the perfect height for kissing all the time. ]

[ This is always a minefield topic for Miles, but right now Gregor steps into it confidently, eyes closing to enjoy the tactile sensation of Miles's fingers exploring the canvas of his skin. He's pale and lean and lightly muscled, something Gregor had never before given much thought to.

But then it wouldn't be remarkable when you are, or nearly so distracting, he points out. Like an opportunity I shouldn't be wasting. Or when I'm sitting down and you're walking by, sometimes I want to just... reel you in.

A mental image of snagging Miles by the wrist and then tugging him over, pulling him in to stand between his legs so Gregor can kiss him, sometimes leisurely, sometimes passionately. ]

Edited 2016-02-04 14:31 (UTC)

[ Oh. That mental image is so delicious that Miles is struck with the desire to get out of bed just to try it. Passing Gregor in the kitchen only to be pulled in for a casual bit of affection ... Yes, please, he thinks, a bit overwhelmed by the prospect of such domestically romantic gestures. It pleases him even more than Gregor having his shirt off (though that is a close second to be sure.) He leans up to kiss him back lightly now, a laugh teasing at his lips. You have such a way of disarming me. You cut straight through my issues ... ]

[ It's overwhelming to Gregor to get to share these long-held guilty fantasies and realize they did not have to be guilty at all. He chases him as he pulls away for another kiss, the thought occurring to him that they can do both at once, with this mind link. He takes his time, fingers finding Miles's hair and threading through them again, holding him stead as he explores his mouth.

Because he can, now.

It's nice to feel. I like you disarmed. Knowing that I can do that... ]

[ You always have, is Miles' response, daring to nip at Gregor's lips lightly. Masterful at maneuvering me... He lets that second thought take on a lewd tone, picturing some ways that Gregor could maneuver Miles in the future. Dragging into kisses is a thought. So is making out on the kitchen counter. Or on the couch. Or the floor ... Miles' mind greedily provides all kinds of possibilities. ]

[ Gregor has to break off the kiss to laugh against him, soft huffs of air. ] You want everything, don't you? [ But it's said so affectionately, with such delight.

Now his voice drops. ] I'll do that any time, you know. It doesn't just have to be making out. As long as there's no chance of an audience... It was my pleasure. [ It's unbelievably thrilling to have someone he can say dirty things like this to with all sincerity, exposing that part of himself. ]

[ That's a jolt of excitement straight to his lower half; he mentally upgrades the encounters with an equal amount of greedy lust as before. Yes, yes they could certainly manage it ... A little care for Miles' limbs and they could manage just about anything.

God, now he's distracted despite having Gregor right here in front of him. Refocus, dammit. ]

Of course I do. Why shouldn't I want everything? It's the only way to have anything at all.

[ He means that in general, not Gregor specifically. Gregor is no consolation prize in the slightest. More like something he'd thought to be out of reach and mourned a bit in passing ... He leans up again to nip at the hollow of Gregor's neck. ]

[ He's used to feeling Miles's thoughts spin out in a million directions at once, but having all of those directions be about him is a whole new kind of heady pleasure.

Gregor lets out a shuddering sigh at that nip, relaxing down into him almost bonelessly. The combination of what's going on mentally and physically, along with his sustained arousal, serves to make him freer with his words. ]

Because wanting something you can't have is hard, [ he murmurs. ] I never thought I'd have you. Not like this. [ A trace of wonder in his voice. ]

[ Miles, too, feels the sting of unrequited love suddenly soothed; it's an especial joy with Elena still an open wound. His previous relationships still recent ... Now he has Gregor. Could have him forever, or at least as long as they are here. That's nearly the same thing.

He doesn't let up with his mouth. Instead he pulls Gregor closer and tighter, wanting as much skin contact as possible. You do now, he promises glady. You always had me. It's just a new layer. ]

I am junking up this beautiful community with this junk

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