isleofavalon | September Catchall

Claude makes a muffled noise of protest as if to suggest he had more to say, though at the same time he's hardly refusing the kiss, just doing more to get a rise out of the other man. He does so enjoy provoking this side of him, after all.

And perhaps he's willing to provoke him a little further this time, because he parts his lips, tasting Lorenz and the lingering taste of sweet lemon on his tongue.

That small noise is certainly not enough to have Lorenz willing to back away, no, if Claude was really done with him he'd have done a good deal more than that. The subtle back and forth of their banter is familiar, even if this particular incarnation of it is new.

At least until Claude's lips part and a moment later Lorenz is jerking back, eyes wide and gasping in surprise. For one frantic moment Lorenz is caught between panic and some strange sort of thrill that makes his heart race. Oh.... is that?

"Oh."

A single, profound realization and then Lorenz presses in to kiss him once more, cautious and curious but doing his best to mimic what Claude had just done as well, shuddering out a breathless little moan when his tongue just barely touches Claude's lip.

For a moment Claude wonders if he'd moved a little too quickly, or perhaps Lorenz didn't like it, and he blinks at him, ready to ask what's wrong. He doesn't need to, though, because Lorenz is already trying again, and that little moan sends a thrill through Claude that has him parting his lips once more to deepen the kiss. Not too quickly, but craving more, as if to guide Lorenz along, both patient but insistent all at the same time.

Flames, he's a fool. To think soft sweet little kisses was all there was, to not realize what else he might be missing. It takes some time, trying to copy what Claude does in his own graceless way at first. It's clumsy and he ends up clacking their teeth together more than once. Lorenz has to gasp in quick little breaths here and there that he's almost certain Claude doesn't need to do.

It's very similar to learning a new dance, merely with lips and tongues and keeping his teeth out of the way.

There's certainly too much to keep track of for him to be terribly concerned at the soft little sounds he keeps making, not when he has so much to learn... both about kissing properly and the way Claude tastes.

Claude knew Lorenz could be... intense, at times, particularly when it came to proving himself, but this was something new entirely. Aside from the initial awkwardness of clashing teeth or awkward bumping noses, Lorenz is taking to it faster than he expected. The other man's lips are soft and pliant and so eager, and those little sounds are going to drive Claude crazy if he keeps them up.

Still, he's happy to keep leading him along on their new little dance. As they kiss, his hands run down Lorenz's chest to settle at his hips. He's being very careful about touching him, both because of the burns on his back and because Lorenz isn't used to it, but, well... Lorenz seems very unconcerned with his usual propriety right about now.

Claude's not sure how much time has passed when he has to pause for breath, but it's then he realises he's half-pulled Lorenz into his lap. There's a dull flush to his cheeks, a sly smile on his face, as he laughs. "Enjoying yourself?"

The shift from sitting beside him to crawling half into Claude's lap is slow and subtle enough that he doesn't truly realize where he is until the other man draws back and suddenly he's able to breathe again. And think, though that takes a fair bit longer. He's flushed all the way down to the tops of his shoulders and more than a little dazed. The rush that accompanies those kisses, the heat of Claude's hands on his hips, the press of him and the curl of his hair around his fingers.

There's just so much and it's all so new that he has no idea what he's feeling exactly. Too hot and light headed, though beyond that everything's a bit too delightfully hazy. At least until Claude speaks, laughter warm against his lips as he presses in against the archer, too close to really comprehend the mischief in his expression.

"Enjoying you." A surprisingly steady counter as Lorenz leans over him, kissing him once more, all that intensity brought to bear in one more kiss. Then, abruptly, he pulls back, eyes widening as though he's only just realized Claude was teasing him. Violet eyes go wide as he looks down at himself, perched on his knees over Claude's lap, on hand fisted in his shirt, the other in his hair. Claude's hands on his bare skin and he looks back to meet green eyes with a sudden uncertainty, now that his brain is gradually coming back online. "O-oh... I didn't- Oh."

"Oh, but you did," Claude counters smoothly, as if he really needs to point out the obvious given Lorenz's current state. He peppers a few light kisses along Lorenz's pale collarbone, then peeks up at him again.

"It's okay." Okay if he wants to stop, okay if he wants to keep going. No matter how much he teases him, Claude doesn't want to scare him off, merely rib him a little. "Just tell me what you want to do."

It's certainly not like he needs the magical compulsion he's under to listen to him, but maybe it'll help Lorenz feel a little more in control of the situation. In the meantime, however, Claude's kisses resume, descending from his collarbone down to his sternum.

Damn him for being so agonizingly smooth and collected when Lorenz feels so much like he might just combust. Whether from shock and embarrassment over his actions or the shivery sort of heat that rushes through him when Claude's lips trace over his skin he's not entirely sure. He almost wants to believe him when Claude says it's okay. Maybe, maybe it is. Maybe it's not the end of the world to let himself enjoy this.

But the reminder, subtle as it is, that Claude is under a magical compulsion is enough to have him beginning to shake his head. No. Oh no. It's far too much too quickly and even though it's been Claude leading this entire thing there's a nagging worry that forms in the back of his mind that it's all some sort of misunderstanding or misuse of this strange power he's been gifted. Illogical but once the thought finds a home in his mind he can't stop thinking about it.

Well, he can. He does, even. Claude's mouth trails yet more heat down his chest and Lorenz drags in a sharp, strangled sort of gasp. "N-no, oh... no, no that's... enough." For all his stammering, though, he sounds an awful lot like he's trying to convince himself.

"I just... need to- wait, Khalid." The fact that his name comes out as a needy sort of whine certainly isn't lending any credibility to his insistence.

Claude lets a last kiss linger before he huffs out a laugh, breath hot against his skin, and he looks up at Lorenz. "Ah, you poor thing. I'll have mercy, then."

And even though he's sure he didn't actually want him to stop, given that needy whine, in this case he does have to listen. He shifts to sit back, eyeing the complete mess that is currently Lorenz Hellman Gloucester, with a smile that is somehow both impish but with shades of something more genuine underneath.

"...Sorry. Are you okay?"

He feels a mess and Claude's teasing only makes that worse. Especially when the other man leans back to appraise his work and Lorenz hunches over, face in his hands, groaning miserably as he tilts forward to thunk his forehead into Claude's shoulder. Flushed and flustered, overwhelmed but quite certain he should be horrified at how little it took for Claude to undo all his careful restraints.

"No, you're not." Claude von Riegan? Sorry? For getting a rise out of him? Never.

"I'm okay..." A little gentler, hesitant almost. "I'm sorry, I hmm- got... carried away?" Breathless but apologetic all the same, not that he's even sure what he's apologizing for. A lack of self restraint, perhaps, but he's not entirely sure if that's something he should have a better grip on or simply something he thinks he should, where ever that notion might have come from.

Claude smiles, caressing the back of Lorenz's neck and pressing a kiss to his temple. "Don't apologise. It's supposed to be nice to cut loose, not embarrassing." And for all Claude's teasing, he doesn't want Lorenz to be convinced he has anything to be ashamed of.

"But if I'm going too fast, don't be afraid to tell me, too," he adds, more quiet. "Like you did just now."

The back of his neck has always been sensitive, it's part of the reason why he had an undercut when he was younger. Claude's fingers skimming over it would have been enough to make him gasp and shiver but now, so close to the angry lines of a blooming flower, his hands twist into Claude's shirt and he collapses against him with a sharp little sound caught between satisfaction and something almost pained.

It takes another moment for him to regain what composure he has left, overwhelmed beginning to edge dangerously close to a fearful sort of panic. He's worked too hard to pull his body under his control from the wheezing miserable thing he was as a boy for all of this not to be a little bit terrifying. Should or shouldn't aside.

Lorenz reaches out to grasp at Claude's wrists, pulling his hands back around to the space between them. "E-enough." Though Claude might be pleased to hear just how ragged Lorenz' voice has become. "I love you but-just let me breathe."

It feels increasingly difficult to do with Claude's hands on him.

Apparently Claude had misinterpreted Lorenz resting against his shoulder as seeking comfort, so he's taken aback when Lorenz grabs him. He doesn't resist, arms going slack as he eyes him with a concerned expression. He'd tried to be careful not to touch any of the area around the burn, so why...?

Maybe it's best not to ask for now. "Okay, okay. No more touching, I get it."

Lorenz is quiet for long moments, concentrated on getting his breathing under control, on finding some semblance of calm again. Gradually his hands move from holding Claude's wrists to sliding his fingers between Claude's, curling one hand to raise it enough to brush a kiss to his knuckles.

"I can't... think if you keep-" He shakes his head, burying his face into the crook of his neck for a moment. "Touching me."

Which feels so silly to admit somehow. That he's so tightly wound that such simple affectionate gestures are enough to drive him to such thorough distraction. In some ways it made him worry just how easy it would be to lose himself in something like this.

"As much as it pains me to point out the obvious, you're the one touching me," Claude says with a slight laugh. Or he is now, anyway, because Claude is just keeping still lest he get another tongue-lashing (not that kind) as Lorenz buries his face against his neck.

Then he hesitates, before adding, "Does it really matter if your mind goes blank for a little bit? You do trust me, right?"

Lorenz hisses out a breath, somewhere between a scolding tsk and a laugh. Yes, he's the one touching Claude but it's different, safer somehow. Just holding his hand and leaning into him doesn't make him feel so disoriented. Gradually he shifts over to one side, moving off of Claude's lap (mostly) to settle against his side.

"I do, of course I do. I-" There's no hesitation with that but it then leaves the question of.... what is he scared of?

"I think... I'm the one I don't trust." A strained, embarrassed little laugh and he finally lifts his head to look at Claude for the first time since they pulled apart.

Claude shifts to make himself more comfortable as Lorenz moves off him again, before settling once more. Then he frowns in confusion, blinking at him as if trying to understand what he means to say.

"You don't trust yourself? Why?"

Lorenz shakes his head a little, closing his eyes and trying to figure out how to explain-

What exactly? That he's afraid if he allows himself to just give in to something like this that... he'll enjoy it? He'll end up being just like Gautier? That its just one step closer to becoming some sort of... of... harlot.

Even this, passionate, soul-searching kisses but still merely kisses, is so much. Too much. Things meant for one's marital bed not-

He doesn't know how to explain it, how to make any of it make sense. He doesn't even know if it does make sense but he's not sure if he can make Claude understand. After a long, thoughtful silence, brows furrowed as he struggles to find something he can say that will make some sense at least...

"I've never let myself... want something like this?"

Claude's silent for a while, turning it over in his head. He knows just how seriously Lorenz took Fódlan's expectations of a noble, how ingrained that is even now. And that's all it really boils down to, he's sure, even without Lorenz fully voicing such thoughts.

He won't judge him and tell him he's wrong, though. No -- better to come at it from a position of understanding.

"That was then. Now, you're letting yourself want it, and you have it. It's not so awful, right?"

Claude's silence is, surprisingly, not as unnerving as he thought it might be. He simply leans against him and lets his heartrate come down, breathing slowly.

"No... certainly not awful. But is it really okay to just..." Do things like this. Let himself have something like this? Never mind the nerves that go along with it all, the concern that he's going to do something foolish or make a mistake.

"Of course it's okay," Claude says, a slight smile returning to his expression. "Who's going to stop us? Seteth?"

He clears his throat and arranges his expression into a frown, adopting a stern tone.

"'Claude! Lorenz! Kissing the library is expressedly forbidden. Do so again and I shall have no choice but to inform the Archbishop of such indiscretion!'"

Lorenz huffs a laugh at the impression but he still gives Claude a Look.

"No one, of course, but it- People talk and I know you like to insist you don't care but that doesn't make it stop impacting one's life." He tries not to frown, not to look too worried about it but he can't help feeling like Claude's over estimating people's willingness to look the other way.

This is the sort of thing that makes a pariah out of someone. Consorting with other men? Engaging in such unconscionable behaviors outside of marriage? If word got out it would be enough to have him struck from every social function in Fódlan, destroy his credibility, undermine everything they've worked for. Perhaps, ideally, it would not be the case in the future culture they wish to create but they're not there yet.

"Oh." That wipes any good humour off Claude's face just as surely as if Lorenz had struck him again, and he stares at him for a second with a mixture of stunned disbelief and abject disappointment.

"Well, if you care for what other people talk about so much, I guess that's what's really important, isn't it?" He extracts himself from Lorenz and gets to his feet, picking up the last of his tea to drain the cup. He grimaces as he does so; they'd been distracted long enough that it's turned lukewarm. "I'd hate to stick around and sully your spotless reputation."

"Kha-" He doesn't even get his name out before Claude's moving away, drinking the godforsaken tea and clearly very intent to simply leave. That look he'd given him is enough to break his heart though and for a moment he feels just as out of control as he had while kissing him.

"Don't-" One word choked out and Lorenz reaches for his hand again. "Please? Khalid..."

He clings to the other's hand, trying to urge him closer, trying not to completely lose it. How did they go so quickly to being overwhelmed for such different reasons? He leans forward, pressing his cheek to the back of Claude's hand. It's the last thing he wants to admit, it feels like such a silly thing, especially when one considers everything they've faced in the war.

"I'm scared."

If anything that makes it all the more clear precisely what the Count taught him to fear. The one thing that Lorenz will always be frightened of... is others thinking ill of him.

Claude does stop, setting the cup down and not moving away from Lorenz's grip, though a flash of irritation flickers behind his eyes as he turns to look back at Lorenz.

"...Scared for your status? Yes, you've made that abundantly clear already. That's not something I can help you with."

His tone is flat, and at this point, lacking in sympathy; he's not interested in indulging someone who regards him as potentially shameful.

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