"Your hair has grown longer."
Damen muses one early morning. He is sprawled across the warmed sheets of the bed, his arms propped beneath his head so that he may observe Laurent flitting about the room, preparing for the day. Damen's voice is still raspy with sleep and the sound of it forces Laurent's fingers to still where they are tying the laces up along his chest. He recovers with a clearing of his throat.
"Yes," Laurent says. "Hair does have a tendency to do that."
Damen replies with a smile quirking at the corner of his lips, "It is very beautiful."
Laurent freezes once again, though this time it is accompanied with a stark flush of colour that starts first at the peaks of his ears, and travels along his cheeks to paint them an enticing pinkish hue. He can not even attempt to hide it and Damen feels warmth swell in his chest. On anyone else, it would be such a simple thing, but the fresh bloom of colour on Laurent's face is a new found delight, a display of emotion that has only just become less of a rarity. Damen strives to draw it to the surface as many times as he possibly can.
Laurent resumes dressing himself and quickly finishes tying his high-collared jacket, pointedly ignoring the reddening tinge of his skin. "Clearly you're still half-asleep." Laurent turns towards the bed and crosses over the short expanse of space between them in a few easy steps. His eyes are slightly narrowed in annoyance when they find Damen's, but there is no real heat in them. Laurent extends an arm to Damen's lounging figure, laces trailing from the untied opening that starts at the bend of his elbow. "Perhaps you are conscious enough to attend me?"
Damen smiles softly and pushes himself into a seated position, the single sheet that had covered him falling to pool at his waist. Laurent's intake of breath is a sharp gasp that he fails to reel in and it is accompanied by a wonderful shiver that courses through him when Damen reaches, not for the laces, but for Laurent's hand. He presses a kiss to the soft of Laurent's upturned palm, and flickers his eyes upwards as he sponges another to the pulse that is thrumming at his wrist. Damen watches as that milky skin is lost to the flush of scarlet and with a poorly contained laugh, he latches onto Laurent's offered arm and pulls his body down alongside him onto the bed. It take little manoeuvring before Laurent is pressed to the sheets and Damen is there above him, smiling with eyes shining in affection.
The blonde strands of Laurent's hair are spread across the pillows like a halo, and Damen reaches out to run his fingers through the ends, curling them in between his fingertips at watching them fall away. "It is long enough to braid now. Perhaps with flowers woven into the strands. I think you would look even more radiant, if that could be possible."
"Shall I don a dress too, would that please you also?" Laurent tries for anger now, tries to gather every ounce of it that he can, but it falls flat. His voice shudders under Damen's attentions and, not unlike a pampered kitten, his breath sounds like the softest purring as Damen takes to passing his fingertips over Laurent's scalp.
"You can wear what you wish, Laurent. But, you know I much prefer you with as little fabric hiding you as possible." Damen manages to work the very top of Laurent's collar back open again and he kisses the hidden skin there, his lips trailing along his heated jawline tenderly.
"You," Laurent says and it is little more that a whisper, "are insatiable. I have work to do and you do nothing but distract me." Laurent's argument isn't wholly convincing as his hands curl around Damen's shoulders and one of his legs hitches around Damen's naked hip.
"It is early yet, and the day is long." Damen lifts his head from the crook of Laurent's neck where there are fresh kiss marks blooming a similar colour to the blondes cheekbones. Damen brushes a strand behind Laurent's ear, his thumb moving to gently stroke along his heated skin under one bright blue eye. "I know we can not rule from our bed, though I wish we could. Just let me love you first, before you go."
Laurent's expression shifts then, and it is far more beautiful than any flush of embarrassment that Damen loves to see. It is a look of delight and wonder that is so pure that Damen is almost scared to accept it because it is small, and perfect, and fragile. Delicate and unknown, and it makes Damen want to protect Laurent with everything that he has to offer, and love him more than a man could ever love another.
Laurent's lips are soft and pliant under Damen's, yielding to the deliberate strokes of his tongue that sought to please, and explore the heat of his mouth. Pressed together as tightly as they are, Damen can feel the tremor that filters through Laurent's body, even with the layers of clothing between them. Useless clothing that Damen wishes to tear from Laurent's body in exchange for the sight of the hidden porcelain skin that he desires. He must settle for parting Laurent's jacket about halfway down his chest with a skilled undoing of the laces. He kisses along the revealed collarbone, the silk of skin beneath his lips tantalizing and warm. Laurent's eyes flutter closed unbidden at each tiny gentle caress, his fingertips sliding into the short hair at Damen's nape.
Damen's seeking fingers move lower, wandering briefly underneath the hem of Laurent's jacket to smooth over the sensitive expanse below his navel. Damen's thumb marvels in the short trail of fine hair that disappears beneath his trousers, and captures the tiny sounds that escape Laurent under his lips. It wasn't enough, not nearly enough, with open-mouthed, near desperate kisses and the slow grind of Damen's naked, hard arousal against the bulge that strained against Laurent's clothing.
"More," Laurent breathes, his mouth pressed right against Damen's ear so that the word sends a shiver raking down the man's spine. It is with flustered movements that Damen sought to undo the ties to the front of Laurent's trousers, and once undone, forces the fabric part way down Laurent's thighs. It is with a guttural moan that Damen takes himself and Laurent in hand and pushed forward heatedly.
Damen works one hand underneath the curve of Laurent's back, pulls him flush against his body as he thrusts into his fist, slicked by the essence that drools from the tip of Laurent's cock. He's close, teetering on the edge of climax from a few hasty touches. They kiss again, a sweet contrast to the rough slide of their bodies together and Laurent whines into it.
"Damen." And it sounds like a plea as Laurent shudders, his hips thrusting upwards into the heat of Damen's fist. Damen mouths at Laurent's neck, at the soft skin underneath his jawline that causes Laurent's fingers to press harshly into his shoulder blades. He whispers Laurent's name in between kisses, a secret sound that no one else will hear, a sound that Laurent cries out to and jerks into Damen's cocoon of heat. His mouth falls open around a harsh breath, climax ravaging him and forcing him to pulse over Damen's fingers and his half-opened jacket.
It is no more than a few moments later that Damen arches, his forehead pressed against Laurent and he too spills into the tight closure of his hand and across Laurent's clothing. His breathing is harsh and heavy as the aftershocks of climax rake through him. He collapses, ruined, to the side, half of his sated body lain across Laurent.
"Now I will need to bathe again." Laurent says when his chests is no longer heaving in post-coital exertion.
Damen smiles and leans closer so that he may kiss Laurent's closed eyelids, and then his cheeks which flush with colour once again. "My apologies."
Laurent clicks his tongue in poor, faux annoyance. He bites his lower lip to refrain from smiling. "You are not sorry."
"No. Not even slightly." Damen laughs and presses his lips to Laurent's. Laurent kisses him back easily, their legs curling lazily together.