barrayar | Komarran trade

Entry tags:

Komarran trade

It's not the first time this has happened.

Neither Gregor nor Duv are the sort of people to race to the finish line, as if sex were a contest or a task to be accomplished. They're both busy enough, Gregor especially, that when they do have time to see each other they're prone to savoring it, quietly and respectfully and, frankly, most of the time, sweetly. That suits Gregor just fine. Sometimes this leads to sex, as it had tonight, and when it doesn't it doesn't bother them. This attitude translates to their approach to intimacy as well, with their foreplay unhurried, almost more the point than getting each other off.

It's something Gregor has cherished deeply about Duv, this space to be completely unpressured about physical intimacy, where they are both on the same page without discussion. It means when they do sleep together it's emotionally affecting for him, love swelling up inside him and making him tender and overwhelmed. Sometimes, this also means he forgets himself. And even further down inside than Gregor's well of deep affection are desires that he has been ashamed of his whole life, and accordingly never let up for air.

With Duv, he's resurrected one of them: that he's attracted to men and not women, explaining a considerable amount of his early life problems with dating, or even caring enough to try to date, anyone. Gregor has mostly made peace with that now. But the rest of what's down there... when it does bubble up to the surface, with what Gregor can only think of as a misplaced sense of security, he corrects himself with alacrity.

His hand, which had reached out to reposition Duv where he wanted him, palm firmly to the back of his neck and pressing his head down to the sheets and holding it there, snatches back. His heart leaps to his throat. God, and of all people to do this to-- Duv, who already displays so much trust by being with the Barrayaran Emperor, to force him into acting subservient-- resulting nausea absolutely kills any arousal Gregor had been feeling, and he vainly tries to recover it. Tries to smooth over his reaction and move on, as he's always done before.

"Sorry," he breathes out.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

When Duv had been asked by his chair to attend an Imperial function on behalf of their department, he had not expected it to spiral the way it had. What had started as a simple discussion of Komarran politics and affairs had landed him where he is now, a permanent place in the Imperial Residence alongside the Emperor of Barrayar.

It may not be how Duv imagined his life going, but now that he's here, he couldn't imagine it heading any other direction. The how had become so unimportant in light of the outcome.

Their time alone together never seems long enough though with Duv's own work, he understands the complexities and drains Gregor faces every day. It means when they finally have privacy, Duv is careful not to place any demands on him and unless asked directly, he keeps work firmly out of the bedroom instead preferring to focus on the intense man that only Duv gets to see this way. Every moment is cherished and feels almost stolen from the rest of the Empire that tugs at the other man in every direction it can.

The force of the movement alone causes Duv to tense though not out of displeasure. Confusion mars his face as he glances from over his shoulder at Gregor. The man's movements, usually so well-thought out and controlled were suddenly... not. It's not the first time it's happened, a trend Duv has been noticing over time, and his attention is diverted fully from their previous activity to Gregor. Nothing had been inherently wrong in the action if unexpected, but his partner's need to immediately apologize and always correct himself has been telling.

It's happened enough that it feels more than a simple misstep or whim within a moment of passion. Nothing the younger man does is without thought, it's all a matter of whether or not he feels comfortable sharing what's behind the action.

"Is everything all right?" he asks calmly and reaches for one of Gregor's hands.

Gregor ducks his gaze, avoiding eye contact, but clasps his hand tightly. He knows Duv is not likely to press on something if he indicates he truly doesn't want to speak about it; it's one of his favorite things about him. But... he probably does owe him an explanation, unflattering as it is. Gregor does feel secure enough with him now that he doesn't think he'll find it detestable, just-- perhaps he'll be unnerved. Yet he must see that Gregor is dedicated to not acting on it, to not letting those impulses take him over. They've just had too long to fester and prod at him, and now he's started to feel safe enough, for the first time in his life, that they come out all unbidden...

Yet the words don't want to come. They seem to stick in his throat like dry twigs.

"I'm fine," he manages, in his low, quiet tones. "... I don't want to hurt you." Given how gentle and considerate Gregor is ordinarily, just by nature, that's probably not a surprising thing to hear him say.

He frowns lightly as he stares at their hands. The man's grasping him like he's some sort of lifeline and Duv gives him a reassuring squeeze. He's here and he's not going anywhere. They both have their horrors they've kept shoved back out of sight, a fact that makes it hard to judge the silence that first meets his question. His shoulders slump with slight relief when he gets an answer, even as uninformative as it is. It's a start.

"I never thought you did," he counters, tone even. He brings his other hand to rub Gregor's knuckles lightly. While the other man may be avoiding Duv's gaze, he keeps his eyes on Gregor anyway should he want to meet them. "You know I'm here if you want to talk."

A simple offer, one that's always been outstanding since they became closer.

He still can't quite look at him, but he does take comfort from the contact, trying to gather up his courage to talk and take that offer. They've been together long enough, shared enough, that it seems ridiculous to keep this from him, too, after Duv had gotten him through his repression of his sexuality.

But this is, if not more personal, then less easily seen as misplaced to Gregor. He's liberal enough to never have truly thought liking men was immoral; this, on the other hand...

He tries to give Duv one last out, because he knows if they start this topic they'll well and truly lose the mood. "It'll ruin the night," he says hesitantly. Gregor is far too used to simply suppressing everything.

His thumb continues its absent-minded movements over Gregor's knuckles as Duv waits patiently for him to continue. After everything they'd been through together the least he can do is offer his patience. There's not much of the burden that Duv can shoulder, but this tiny bit is one he can share. He sees his partner torment himself far too often with secrets and thoughts he has no one to share them with.

"Is it going to send you running out of the room?" he asks, a touch dryly, before his tone returns to something far more gentle. "The night can hardly be ruined if we're together."

That's... incredibly soppy. It makes Gregor smile slightly, trepidation draining in small increments. Finally his gaze darts upward, though with his head still ducked, it only succeeds in making Gregor look shy. Duv is absolutely right that Gregor keeps too much to himself, with no one to tell it to, not with every one of the Vorkosigans off-world so often. Not even damn Ivan is around anymore.

"That's your sword to throw yourself on," he mutters, wryly conceding that Duv can decide for himself if he wants to waste what little time they have on Gregor's issues. But now he hesitates for a long moment, having come to the crux of it, and can only come at it obliquely. "I... must ask. When did you first find out about my father?" Duv being a historian of that time period makes him feel sure he must know. Somehow.

"I've thrown myself on my fair share." Coming to Barrayar alone had been one giant sword to throw himself on. But he's still here dammit and done more than well for himself despite the odds. Being here with Gregor, he's reminded of just why he's glad he took that dive so many years ago to an unforgiving planet.

When Gregor finally concedes to ask him that, Duv squeezes his hand tighter Ah. Duv's own family horrors don't compare, but he can sympathize on some level. Komarr knows Duv's spent his entire adulthood being sure he doesn't repeat the same failings of his own father. "During my graduate studies when I had better access to research materials. There had been enough pieces to put together and I hardly had the popularized image, the one many would like remembered, taught to me."

Gregor's perfectly aware that even asking that much instantly explains the bulk of it, but he's not a coward, and he does actually listen to Cordelia most of the time. It would benefit him to talk about this with the party most involved, rather than just keeping it bottled up, and now that Duv's taken on the onus of initiating the conversation rather than Gregor having to find his courage, it's as good an opportunity as he'll ever get.

He nods, listening to his, pulling their joined hands into his lap like something he wants to keep. Duv's provided him a neat lead in, mercifully. "It's what was taught to me. Carefully, I'm sure. And I don't... blame anyone," his voice lowers, "for not wanting to tell someone their father was a rapist and a sadistic torturer. I'm sure it seemed irrelevant with him dead. But I found out... poorly. And at a bad time."

He stops, in what would ordinarily be some expansion of that statement, something about how it had affected him. But Gregor just stops there, words stuck. Immobile. He's never spoken of this in so many words before; Cordelia hadn't needed two words to realize and understand what had happened. Just I overheard someone speaking about my father and she'd known all the rest with her laser-precision acumen. Gregor had never before appreciated how kind that could be.

No surprise there. Why would anyone want to tell the future Emperor the shoes he was stepping into? Lies Duv himself tried to avoid when he taught his own classes from his own experiences with his father's propaganda. His entire undergraduate career had been spent dissecting every lie told to him. Thankfully not ones told about the blood running through his own veins and he can only imagine the impact it had on Gregor.

He gives over his hands and intertwines their fingers to keep his hold on Gregor's solid. Not once does his gaze falter, instead remaining attentive. He doesn't want to make assumptions, but he has a fairly good idea what the man means by 'bad time.' He decides to keep his verbal input simple, he has a feeling Gregor has a direction he wants this conversation to go.

"I'm sorry no one told you," he murmurs. There's no 'proper' way to tell anyone that, but there are better ones. Outright lying to someone as introspective as Gregor never led anywhere good.

Gregor had tried to preemptively make it seem like he was okay with not being told, that he understood, but the truth, of course, is that he was not. So this apology is well-received, with a lump in his throat and a steadying breath.

"Thank you," he says quietly back, and then is forced to come to the crux of it. How it went from that incident, ten years ago, to Gregor still apologizing every time he does something remotely forceful. He's not sure how much it makes sense to him. "... You know what the rest of my family was like, too. How when I went searching for examples when I was young, trying to find a role model to base myself off of, I found-- that I had to be glad they were dead, most of them." A hollow note of black humor. "So I did the opposite. I swore to myself I would be as unlike them as I could. Manipulating people like tools, or forgetting them entirely, God, the whole Ministry of Political Education... I've tried to eradicate everything Aral didn't."

A short pause.

"I was already in that mindset when I learned of my father. But my father was... was... personal. And the things I found inside me that were at all like him..." Gregor lets out a slow breath, bows his head, the shame clear in the soft edges of his words. "Because there are things there. And I can't-- can't seem to kill them."

There's a small nod. Gregor's reign had been a breath of fresh air to the Barrayaran Empire, something that gives Duv the distinct impression he's living through a great moment of history himself alongside the main actor. Others had their parts, but if the Vorbarra line had continued the way it had, Barrayar would be a very different place right now.

He frowns thoughtfully as he listens, trying to figure out how this links at all to what Gregor had done before his apology. It's what he says after the pause that makes everything click. Ah. His hold on Gregor's hands tightens for a moment in reassurance. Duv can understand that fear of not wanting to be like one's father, it's a shadow he battles every time he feels his temper flaring.

"You care far too much for anything you do to be similar." For one thing, the man stopped immediately once he realized he was doing. He considers his next words carefully. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't feel as if I could trust you. I feel safe, Gregor." Safer than he has in years and he wants the man to understand that.

"If there's something you'd like to do differently, all you have to do is ask and we can discuss it."

It's foolish how much comfort Gregor takes from that, that straightforward, unmincing reassurance that he feels safe with him. He slumps a little with the relief of it, like a weight has fallen off his back, and manages to meet his eyes again finally. It's no trivial thing to hear from Duv, and he knows it, values it immensely.

"I don't want to discuss it," he says ruefully, thinking back to Cordelia's pointed comments when he was much younger and how thoroughly he'd ignored them. They do that on Beta; they also sleep with men on Beta like it's no big thing, and Gregor hadn't thought he could do that here either. One piece at a time, apparently...

"It's mortifying to even contemplate."

"More mortifying than doing it without the discussion?" he points out flatly. There's no judgment in his tone, but it is an observation he feels is incredibly valuable given Gregor's apparent reluctance. He's not sure how far the man's desire extends though it's clear ignoring it isn't the solution no matter how much Gregor might wish it to be.

Duv's gaze drifts down to their hands for a brief moment as he thinks back to exactly what had brought the apology. It had been surprising, but not entirely unappealing. He squeezes Gregor's hands tighter as he tries to decide the best way to phrase it before giving up. Better to throw it out there and see what the man makes of it, if it'll help their conversation along.

"I... Didn't mind it," he admits then quickly clarifies, "What you did before we stopped."

Ugh, point well taken. Gregor winces at the direct hit. It is mortifying to do it without discussing it, his desires just outing themselves like steam from a safety release mechanism in a pressure vessel. He's normally so mercilessly controlled, these slips bother him immensely.

He looks up in surprise, uncertain. Getting Gregor to accept the idea that his partner might enjoy this part of himself rather than just tolerate it is absolutely critical to him becoming at all comfortable with it. "I'm not going to do something to you just because you don't mind it. It's not a... a fetish, I don't need it."

"You've already proven that," he replies. More than once. If it was something Gregor needed, their intimacy would have taken a very different turn when they began to get closer. Duv releases one of Gregor's hands, but only so he can focus on one, massaging lightly as they continue to speak.

"I can't decide if it's something I want if I don't know the full details." And if it's important enough to Gregor to cause these slips then Duv's willing to listen. He's not going anywhere.

That's fair, completely fair. And also not reactionary like Gregor knows he's being, unable to see this clearly. He knows this isn't that far out there, that the desire for control in a sexual sense is even a fairly mundane sexual practice for a lot of people on Beta Colony-- he knows because Cordelia has blandly told him-- but he's never quite been able to apply that to himself, the same way he was never able to apply to himself that being attracted to men was something standard for the rest of the Nexus. It had never been standard for him.

Relying on Duv's relentless practicality is appealing, too, just to get this damn issue out of his head. It's not fun, he doesn't want to dig it up and expose it to the open air-- but there is, vaguely, a sense of relief in doing just that. Like a purge.

He takes a breath. "I don't know if I know the full details. I did... ah, many years ago, say something to the Countess about it, who then made some comment about how you couldn't socialize me to be commanding since I was five without some fallout, but--" Gregor shakes his head, realizing he's getting off track. "I've never done it with anyone. I'm not sure what I want except for, for, ah, feeling in control." He flushes lightly as he speaks, not just embarrassed but still conditioned, by himself, to be ashamed.

Countess Vorkosigan, Duv's mind readily supplies. Betan and very much in charge of Gregor's education growing up. It would make sense he would go to her about something of this nature.

"I haven't either," he admits. Unsurprising given Duv's general lack of experience, much the same for Gregor he imagines. He doesn't stop his hands' motions instead slowly turning the other man's palm-up so he can massage there absently. The movement helps him think as he considers his next words. He's ill-equipped to give an informed reply though he's thoughtful as he offers, "We could figure out what that means for you. There must be resources we can utilize as a starting point."

Trust his mind to turn academic even when discussing sex.

"I would be interested in trying if you would like," he adds after a moment's pause, in no uncertain terms.

It's a little distracting, actually, having Duv massage his hand. Distracting in a reassuring way. It seems easier to speak on this when he's not focusing on it too much.

Gregor of all people is obscurely comforted by the idea that he's not the first person to have this problem, that there must be resources they can utilize. "I imagine the Countess has a whole stack of them she's been waiting to throw at me," he says wryly, relaxing a little. Duv is always so to the point, no nonsense. The lack of ambiguity helps immensely, and drains the drama out of it, as being alone in his head with how ashamed he is of himself does nothing but make it fester.

"I..." He exhales. "I think it would be ridiculous to pretend it's not something I think about. So it's probably worth trying." Although he feels a bit like he's stepping up to the edge of a cliff by saying that. A moment later, he's annoyed with himself; it's been a lot of years since Gregor had felt haunted by the spectre of his father and his other relatives. He's most definitely defined himself now as Emperor on his own terms. No one compares his reign to anyone else's, no one sees the shadow of Serg behind him anymore. Not even Aral or Simon. He's sure of that.

Why is it still affecting him here? Why is he allowing that? These things are so hard to unlearn.

He offers a small smile of amusement at the mention of the Countess again. "Yes, I'm sure the Betan would have plenty to say about your sexual choices." And then some. But if Gregor is already having difficulties broaching the subject, Duv isn't going to push for direct, outside guidance. Not when there has to be a plethora of resources they can tap.

The massaging stops, but only so he can intertwine their fingers and squeeze lightly. The fact that Gregor trusts him with this part of himself means a great deal to Duv.

"If you would like, I could find us some pieces to read together," he offers. If the man would have time to do such a thing in his schedule, but if need be, Duv can do the reading and report back. "That way we can discuss and approach this when we're more informed."

He is, at least, used to Cordelia knowing all sorts of embarrassing private things about him, like a confessor. But he has to admit too that picturing himself figuring it out with Duv, who he trusts so implicitly not to be harboring any ulterior motives, not to let him do anything that distresses him, actually appeals to him. In that context, he can imagine himself doing it rather than dragging himself through it, unearthing hidden feelings in painful excavation for Cordelia's gentle assessment.

Gregor lifts his hand to his mouth and kisses his knuckles lightly before answering. "Doing my research for me?" he says wryly. "I suppose I do pay you for that. Thank you, Duv. I know I'm insensible about this."

"Insensible, but not unreasonable," he quips lightly. Duv's aware that if Gregor had truly wanted to avoid this topic and sweep it under the bed, so-to-speak, he was more than capable. It's never been that Duv can't tell when the other man is being avoidant in a way that hardly registers to most, but that Duv would have respected his wishes otherwise.

His tone remains dry, though the undercurrent of teasing is unmistakable, "I'll have a full report ready for you next evening we're free." Free and able to spend undisturbed.

How difficult could it be?

It takes all the incentive out of avoiding things with him, as Gregor so deftly does with almost everyone else; because he doesn't need to. Duv never presses him. This tactic gets Gregor to admit to a lot more than he would otherwise.

He tries to muster up a tiny, appreciative smile for him, though it still looks hesitant, even wary. "If there's anything you run across that you think you would like, that's what I'm most interested in. And... I'll make sure to clear some time for you. More than we had tonight."

He returns the smile with a small one of his own and there's a small second of hesitation before Duv tugs Gregor towards him so he can hold the man.

"I'll make sure to underline the ones that appeal to me most," he promises. It's something he would like to enjoy as well after all and he knows his repertoire of sex acts is lacking at best. "Is tomorrow morning too soon for you to know when your next evening free will be?"

He's not expecting that, but he goes readily, even with some appreciation. It always takes Gregor a moment to internally get himself to relax enough to accept physical affection comfortably, a moment in which he lets down his habitual poise. But once he does there's nothing awkward or tentative about it; he curls around him willingly.

"For you, I'll make time," he says softly, letting the sappiness of it linger a moment before pushing on with more rueful humor. "Fundamentally ridiculous as I feel establishing a time for you to report to me on scandalous galactic sex practices." Gregor feels extremely Barrayaran at the moment.

He happily wraps his arms around Gregor. The man's taller than him by several inches, a fact that's more than obvious as Gregor curls around him, but Duv hardly minds. They fit together just as well and Duv enjoys the comfortable feel of his partner in his arms.

"It wasn't too long ago Komarrans were fully galactic," he muses with small smile. "It only makes sense for me to bring such corrupted practices to the Imperial bedroom."

Falling easily into sarcasm, he answers, "All those rumors of you corrupting me must finally be true. I knew you were just waiting for your chance."

Not that Gregor had ever much cared or listened to those rumors. It was so patently untrue as to be laughable, with Duv who Gregor thinks of as patently incorruptible. He's more than proven himself on that front ten times over; Gregor isn't about to make him prove himself to the Nexus as his lover. It makes for a particularly pithy joke.

"I would hate to make liars out of the tabloids," he returns flatly. "They could use every scrap of help we can throw their way."

Limelight Duv has never had to deal with until his relationship with Gregor. Being Komarran on Barrayaran had earned him a far amount of attention, but nothing groundbreaking with his position as an academic. Yet here he was, throwing himself into it willingly. He smiles softly as he watches Gregor and trails his fingertips down the man's spine, appreciating every inch he touches. There isn't anywhere else he'd rather be.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Komarran trade

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject