THEM FANCY LADS, CONT. (Nikolas/Winter)

[oneinfive]

[From here:

Well, here they are, on the world's most introverted date, the one that only the extravert between them realizes is a date.

Which is to say, that evening, when he'd normally be retiring to his rooms, Nikolas makes his way to Winter's little private study instead for all that reading Winter seems to think can be a social activity. Maybe he isn't wrong. It can at least be a comfortable one, between the two of them, at this point; that counts for a lot. It's been so very long since most things between them were comfortable. If sitting together in amicable silence, maybe even leaning on one another, can join that list, Nikolas is more than happy to make the first move in adding it.

He raps lightly and quickly on the door, as if worried he might be overheard. It's quite unlike his usual way of being.]

Comments

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[Ah, that's an invitation Nikolas is all too ready to take. He pauses for only the briefest moment for his breath to stutter out against Winter's lips; he lets that happen deliberately, showing Winter how excited he is for just this much. It's enough that he might feel faint if he'd ever been that sort of man. As it is, he feels tight all over with desire, and he pours that now into the kiss since he has Winter's permission, his tongue slipping in to taste all of his mouth, one hand curling behind Winter's neck to hold him.]

[softariel]

[ He can't help it: he makes another noise, louder now, and a hard shiver goes through him at the touch of Nikolas's hand on his neck. He'd never thought of it as somewhere particularly sensitive, but it's like he can feel that touch through his whole body, leaving him tingling and breathless.

And a little greedy, too. He's not bold about it, but he is (just a little) less tentative, letting his tongue brush against Nikolas's in turn, trying to get as close as their separate chairs will allow. ]

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[Right around now, with that touch, that moan, the way Nikolas's body reacts to it—is when the separate chairs thing becomes a bit too much to bear for him, at least, and he pulls away with a short, quiet gasp.]

Winter. My Winter—perhaps here is not the place, or if it is, you may as well come join me in my own seat. I daresay I could make the room for you if you didn't mind being very close indeed.

[Or they could go for a bed. Really, either way, Nikolas hopes they'll end up quite close.]

[softariel]

Close--

[ Very close indeed. He was already flushed, but as the suggestion and its implications register, he goes almost beet-red, fidgeting in his seat without pulling further away himself. He wants very much to be as close as Nikolas is hinting at, though there are a couple of seconds where he's paralyzed by his own timidness. How easily he just says that! It's something Winter envies more than he'd like to admit, like it's no terrible ordeal to just say it, like this was a properly expected thing to happen...

But he does finally push himself up to his feet, wobbling, and takes the step and a half over to Nikolas's chair. And there he hesitates again before -- does he sit on Nikolas? In the narrow gap of chair seat available? How does one do something like this?! ]

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[He'd expected Winter to lead them back to his bedroom, and he's pleasantly surprised by the boldness. Well, well. So Winter does want to be that close, and in the study at that—Nikolas wets his lips as Winter steps over, reaching for him. When Winter hesitates, he reaches over to tug Winter into his lap straddling him, or at least to aim for that, very hopefully.]

Close . . . yes. If you like.

[softariel]

[ It's a little awkward -- he'd been hoping for a helping hand, if not initiative, from Nikolas, but not like this -- but he's a graceful young man, with a sense of balance both natural and engrained from years of practice. So, surprised as he is, it doesn't take much to get him in place, and once he is... well.

This is an entirely new and unique feeling. He likes it, even if it's also rather incredibly embarrassing. ]

O-oh. H-- hello.

[ He doesn't actually think to respond with any reassurance of his own, though his opinion is probably quite obvious on his face. ]

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. . . Hello, you.

[A moment ago, he'd felt dark and sultry; when Winter says that, though, the sun comes out on Nikolas's face. He can't help the bright grin he shines right back at him. Not that the mood is entirely broken, not by far. They both clearly rather enjoy this. Nikolas's enjoyment is only going to become more obvious the longer they're in this position. For now, it's subtle.]

Are you comfortable, my dear? I was rather hoping you would see fit to stay for quite some time.

[softariel]

A long time? --I would think I'm too heavy for that.

[ He might be the head of one of the richest families of the kingdom, but he's still slight to the point of underweight. If nothing else, he's got some boney edges. But for the moment he's relaxed, wide-eyed as he leans against Nikolas. It's almost innocent, even if the position itself is absolutely suggestive. ]

But... I'd be happy to stay, as long as you'd like me.

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The idea that you, Winter, are too heavy for anything, is a bit laughable. I can certainly take it!

. . . If you protest, however. I just may have to spirit you off to bed instead. As a courtesy to you, of course. To soothe your anxiety.

[There's nothing innocent about Nikolas's expression, though he's relaxed himself, and not urgent about the flirting. Either way, really, he's in an excellent position.]

[softariel]

Is that how you're putting it...

[ For the moment, at least, he can pretend to have a little more courage than he actually does. His heart is pounding so hard that he's surprised Nikolas hasn't commented on that, even if only fondly. But though he keeps his tone light, he can tell his face is going redder by the moment. He hasn't sat in someone's lap since he was very young -- possibly just out of infancy -- and doing it now feels borderline scandalous, moreso than the promise of anything that might come next. ]

You are the smooth sort, aren't you?

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I do try!

[He smiles, his voice rich with affection, with only the slightest quaver in it to betray his own anxiety and need both. But he knows Winter will hear it. Or maybe he only hopes he will. Either way, he leans in, his lips brushing the corner of Winter's mouth as he speaks next, making the hair on the back of his own neck stand on end.]

My dear. I want only what you want. No more or less.

[softariel]

And if I want very many things?

[ His voice goes softer at that. He drops his gaze away from Nikolas's face to a point around his collarbone. A mix of anxiety and anticipation churns in his gut; he can't quite help the buzz of fear that maybe he's dreaming, maybe he's asking too much.

But the not-quite kiss does give him some courage, and he tightens his grip on Nikolas's shoulders. He just wants to be close for now. ]

Many things, for many years to come.

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I.

[There's a buzz inside of Nikolas as well, anxiety all mingled up with an excitement so deep and potent it's downright sickening. The fear he's held onto all of this time still has its grip on him, even as he tries to let it go: he doesn't deserve this! He isn't good enough for this! He'll ruin it all like he does everything else! How can he spread the taint of his, everything about himself, onto poor Winter? Trick him into marriage! Surely that's it!

His arms tremble faintly, and he sucks in a deep breath, trying to force those thoughts away; his hands are tight on Winter, as if his body knows not to let him go even as his mind demands he must.]

I could want nothing more. Nothing in this world, or any other—nothing in any world beyond, more than this. But are you certain?

[softariel]

Oh, I am certain.

[ He can't quite meet Nikolas's eyes as he says it -- not out of any actual hesitation, but out of a lingering shyness. But he leans into the touch as well, closer to Nikolas. If he's honest, the tightness of that grip reassures him more than it distresses him. What a change from years ago. ]

I am not... I should say, I am not the sort of person who likes to do these things lightly. You are the one with more freedoms to lose, Nikolas; I only ask that you be certain, as well. Of me.

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Ah, no. No, no, no, my dear, you're entirely mistaken. I am not the one with freedom to lose. I daresay I have hardly had any of that in my life to date, and I don't know if I may ever have any more of it than I do now, which is more than I once did. A free man? Not Nikolas! But you, my Winter . . . well. I suppose neither of us truly are, in professional senses, but you are moreso than you know, and that is precisely why I hate to shackle you to a weight like myself.

["Hate." No, he wants it. He wants it so badly that the undercurrent of it aches in his voice, and touches his eyes as he stares into Winter's. But all of the rest, he believes entirely.]

[softariel]

I'm not certain we are operating on the same ideas of freedom, here.

[ And that's a problem to be mulled over. Winter shifts his weight and settles without thinking about it much; he's less intent, but in exchange, he's more comfortable. It's a strange feeling, but one that feels more right than many he's had over the past six months. ]

Certainly, my family is less... disapproving of the very idea, and certainly I have had no other companionship than you. But there's been less interest, certainly. No one else has been interested, while you could have your pick of anyone you prefer. It's my luck, then, if you'd rather choose me.

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I don't know I would call that an equal sort of freedom—well. It's hardly an argument that makes much sense, is it? You and I, we see it differently, from our different cages. We see one another's as being open and our own as being shut tight. What matters now is only that, if it's truly what you wish, perhaps both of us can leave our cages entirely and meet out in the open, between them. . . . Oh, that was poetic, wasn't it? And here I haven't had a drop to drink to loosen my lips like that.

[He gives Winter a smile, both sardonic and fond, his arms looped around Winter's thin body in a way that strikes him, too, as terribly comfortable.]

[softariel]

Even without the wine, you've always been better at speaking... unless you were simply indulging where I could not see.

[ But he's always made it a habit of watching Nikolas at larger gatherings -- fetes, festivals, anything where there would be a large crowd of people between them, and Winter could spy without being caught by the sharp side of Nikolas's tongue. Had Nikolas ever even noticed? Perhaps, given the things he's said thus far this evening, but also perhaps not...

Winter lets his head droop down until he can press it against Nikolas's shoulder. Just this is so very nice. ]

But the past is past. We can move forward from that... can't we?

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. . . Ah, Winter. How simple you make it sound. As easy as you and I taking a stroll through the gardens, the way you put it.

I want—so very much. I want to think it can be, even if it cannot be easy.

[They're so close; Nikolas has been aware of that all this time, of course, but a sudden deeper awareness sinks in on a bone and muscle sort of level, warming him. He turns his face to press his lips to Winter's forehead, arms tightening just a bit, and holds him there.]

Here we are unable even to make it to a bed, you see.

[softariel]

We--

[ It's a small gesture, and it doesn't feel that sexual, in spite of the implication in Nikolas's words, or the sureity of his grip. Winter sucks in a quick breath, swaying in; once he's had a moment to process that tenderness, he can focus on what's there underneath. And it's enough to make his face go warm, his own hands coming up to curl in Nikolas's jacket. ]

We could move. It is not so very far away.

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I could, perhaps, even carry you all the way there, but I'm afraid that would not be very subtle if we were seen at it.

[That could go either way, in terms of being appealing or offputting, and he says it with a great neutrality. But mostly, he's focused on the way Winter clings to him, how just that gesture makes his heart race, even without touching his body itself.]

[softariel]

It -- it isn't that far!

[ But even as he says that he twists a little to check. He doesn't let go, nor is he actually making any effort to get up, but just in case. They're alone in these huge quarters, and there's no secret doorways (he is rather certain!) for any sort of servant to magically manifest, but... No, no, it's safe. At least looking away has the added benefit of concealing his face, if only a little; his whole face feels as if it's burning now. ]

No, no, I will walk. It's quite all right. --If it comes to such a thing, which is not to say I am suggesting or implying that it should, just--

[ Never mind that he had. Never mind that! There's only embarrassment now. ]

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Well! If you say so, I will not argue; I can only encourage it. Up we go! Since you insist!

[Oh, he had, and Nikolas is going to jump on that, finally moving to get them both out of the chair. He doesn't force it, but he does manhandle just a little in the process, ho hum. His hands are firm on Winter's sides and shoulders, biceps flexing.]

[softariel]

[ Boy does Winter like that. He likes it quite a lot, in fact; enough, in fact, that he hesitates a bit in the movement just to feel what it's like to be hustled along like that. And the whole time, he stares up at Nikolas's face, wide-eyed and flushed. It's not quite an awed expression, but it does skirt up to that. ]

You really are certain about this, aren't you?

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[To have that look turned on him—well, Nikolas had seen it in his youth, and back then it'd had much the same effect on him, though eventually he'd refused to indulge those thoughts. But now he can. Now he can look at that and fully enjoy seeing Winter's flushed, awed face turned to Nikolas, and dream of what else he might do to make it even better.]

Well. I am certain I want it; I cannot say I deserve it. And so that depends on your question, more specifically.