Part two. Here there be lemon. Beware.

Enjoy. Remember the warnings and disclaimer from last chapter? Yeah. The disclaimer still applies, and here's where the warning kicks in. I guess maybe this is a fan-service fanfic, but... yeah. This is what happened when I tried to write Marth and Link.

Link lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling with unfocused blue eyes. There was no turning back once you were in this deep, but all the same he wished that he could have changed… something. Yet when his eyes had met Marth's all he could say was that one, stupid, damned word. Beautiful. He was—for all intents and purposes—a stranger and yet he'd gone and said that.

And the man had smiled at him like he was a child in need of proper education and vanished. He hadn't seen him since, and even so envisioning the lithe swordsman made a strange pang of something like longing strike his heart. Link didn't know what it meant, and he didn't intend to find out what it was. It scared him, being stronger than anything he'd felt before, and the color rose on his cheeks as strange visions came unbidden to his mind's eye. "N-no!"

"No, I cannot come in?" came an unfamiliar voice from outside his door. He'd missed the quiet knock, lost in his reverie.

"A-ah, no, you can come in, that's fine…" Getting up, the Hylian ignored his boots and crossed his room—neat, but small and sparsely furnished—to open the door. His mouth dropped open.

"Did no one tell you it is rude to stare?" the swordsman murmured, cold blue eyes locked squarely on Link's. He hadn't bothered with his armor, though his sword belt was buckled on as usual. "Do close your mouth—unless you'd rather it be occupied than closed?"

Sheepishly Link shut his mouth, and shook his head. "I… I was just surprised, that was all."

"I see. Do you mind if I come in?"

"N-no, not at all…" Nervously, the Hylian backed into his room, the cobalt-haired man (beautiful stranger, strange lithe agile strong beautiful man) closing the door behind him. "I-I don't actually have a chair in here, but there's enough room on the bed for two…"

Only a highly amused chuckle answered him.

"What did I say?" Confused, Link watched his guest quickly compose himself and seat himself on the foot of his bed.

His icy blue eyes were on him again. "Zelda told me that you had been watching me."

"I… I…" Unable to read the expression on the other swordsman's face, the Hylian could not bring himself to utter a reply. But at last words came. "I… I didn't mean to…"

Was that a hint of amusement in the man's cold gaze? "I see. And yet you continued to look. She added that you seemed fascinated… did you like what you saw?"

Link could not answer that question either, eyes wide and somewhat frightened now. Though plenty of girls in Hyrule had thought him attractive, any relationship he started had simply fallen apart once the girlfriend had expressed any interest in pushing intimacy beyond little things. The little things he was okay with. The kisses, the hugs, the walks on the shores of Lake Hylia and the sunsets spent watching the fiery glow slowly make way for starry nights… he could handle that. Yet there was a look in those cold eyes he gazed into now, a predatory look—that frightened him, more than Morpha or his dark reflection or the Redeads or the monster in the well at Kakariko.

Marth seemed to become thoughtful, then. "And I saw you; at the end of my match... you called me beautiful. Did you mean it?"

That… that he could answer. Helplessly, Link turned to fully face the swordsman. "Yes."

"Is that so?" Almost carelessly the other man undid his boots and toed them off.

"What… what are you doing?"

"I merely thought to make myself comfortable, since I may be here a while. Of course, that depends on if that is all right with you." There was that smile again, the half-smile that made Link forget to breathe and his heart skip a beat.

-----

But nothing untoward happened, and after a while the Hylian relaxed, began cracking jokes, laughed. Marth's smiles grew gradually more frequent, until there was an amused twinkle softening the ice of his eyes and the half-smile that Link found so heart-stopping was replaced by a far more honest one. Amidst the stories the Hero told about Hyrule and the things he'd seen were stories of Marth's own, amusing anecdotes from a battle campaign he'd been present for and childhood memories that he smiled to recall.

Halfway through a story about the Kokiri something changed in the air, and the next thing Link knew there was a soft pair of lips pressed against his own, surprisingly soft—before he knew it he was responding to the kiss. He didn't feel awkward, or clumsy or just plain embarrassed like he'd felt before kissing other people—it felt right. Maybe he just hadn't found the right person to kiss…

When the other swordsman pulled away, the Hylian was blushing terribly—all the way to the tips of his pointed ears. "Ah," came the amused comment, "I doubt I have ever had this much of an effect on anyone before." The prince's sultry tone caused the hero's blush to darken.

"I… I don't know what just happened, I'm sorry!" Link inched backwards a little, eyes averted. "I… I don't know what just came over me…"

"In case you have forgotten, I kissed you first. Clearly that should have been some indication that I did not mind a response. Kindly do not apologize for a kiss we" the corner of Marth's mouth turned up "both quite clearly enjoyed."

When the prince leaned in for another kiss, the hero did not stop him. When the kiss deepened, the hero did not stop him. When the prince tipped them both over, so that he was on his hands and knees over the Hylian, the hero could speak only in breathless, half-heard sentences that the prince barely understood.

"What… what is this? Why do I feel so warm? I… I don't understand this. I've never felt like this before…"

The prince silenced him with another kiss. "Relax your muscles," he murmured, nibbling at the shell of one pointy ear. "Calm yourself. Take a breath… I am not going to hurt you. Do you understand that?"

"Nnh… Y-yes…"

"Good." He moved to the other ear. "Know this—I will be gentle with you. After all, you are quite clearly new to this… am I wrong?"

"N-no… uuuuhn… Please, I can't… what are you doing to me?"

"Do you want me to stop?" The prince pulled his lips away from Link's ear, fixing his eyes squarely upon the Hylian's again. He didn't miss the shiver that ran down Link's spine, and the little upward quirk of his lips became a full smile as he felt the bulge in the hero's tights.

"N-no... don't… stop—ahhh!"

Brushing his fingers teasingly against the cloth-trapped phallus, the prince unbuckled the Hylian's belt and pulled it off, laying it aside. Pushing the green material of the tunic up, he found the edge of the hero's tights and began to peel them off.

"What are you—oh,Farore…uunngh…"

"Lovely." And the sight really was lovely, for the Hylian had creamy pale skin beneath his tunic and tights (pale skin seen by none but the ones who raised him and the woman who bore him and the mirror that envied him), and Marth let his tongue glide into the dip of the blonde's navel just to hear him squeak. "How perfectly," butterfly kisses dotted their way down the hero's body, turning off to the side to kiss down a bared thigh "ravishingly," the prince nipped playfully at the hero's inner thigh, and Link clapped hands gauntleted in worn leather over his mouth to keep his voice from betraying his desire "lovely." Any words about to escape the hero's mouth vanished as slick warmth enveloped his length, and a hand played him like a well-tuned instrument as it slid up his torso to find a nipple beneath the bunched fabric of the green tunic.

"Ah… ah, ahh, no, please, I can't—I—!" At the strangled cry announcing the hero's release, the prince slowly, deliberately let his lips travel back up the straining, pulsing phallus, at long last pulling his mouth away. The half-smile the hero saw as soon as he came back down to earth was enough to stop his heart, let alone the very messy picture of lust the prince made with semen splashed on his face and hair.

Moving off of the bed, the prince hummed as he divested himself of cape and sword belt. "I suppose I had better take this off… wouldn't want any of it to get wet." He cast a glance at the Hylian still lying on the bed, legs bare and tunic bunched at the chest. "Would you like to have that off as well? It must be rather uncomfortable, to be only partially dressed."

"I… c-can I…"

"Yes?"

"Can I… undress you?" There. He'd said it, and the hero's face colored at his own sudden boldness. "A-and I should go get a towel to clean off your face—I'm sorry!" Without giving the prince time to respond he'd left the bed and walked into his little bathroom to dampen a towel with water.

Idly, the prince pulled off his gauntlets and swiped at his face with a bare forearm. "I… did not mind so much. Your reactions are delightfully honest." He brought his fingers—sticky with the Hylian's seed—thoughtfully to his mouth, sampling again the bitter flavor of the hero's pleasure.

-----

Soon enough the hero was back. Not only had he resettled his tunic back down to where it was supposed to hang, but he insisted on cleaning the prince up—"to make up for making a mess out of your face." And then the towel was pooled on the floor—a little puddle of white terrycloth—and their lips were connected and the prince was overwhelming the hero little by little. The color rose high in the hero's face again and his trusty, long-worn leather gauntlets were peeled off and cast aside. Bare hands slid beneath the hero's green tunic and slid up the supple curve of his back before darting down to the Hylian's firm buttocks and squeezing, very gently.

This, of course, made the hero squeak and break the kiss. "W-what are you doing?" he asked, timidly. He could face down Moblins and fearful monsters—hell, he'd taken down Gohma as a child­—and yet one cobalt-haired man squeezing his ass had him squeaking like a kitten… what was wrong with him? Link shook his head to clear the haze of fear from his mind. There was nothing to be afraid of… Marth had said so himself. He wasn't going to hurt him…

"Do you wish for me to stop?" the prince asked, withdrawing his hands. "I had assumed that you knew what we were doing, but perhaps I should not be making such assumptions…"

"Wait. Don't leave. Please…" Before the hero realized exactly what he was doing his mouth was pressed up against the prince's once more, and his hands were scrabbling about to find the clasps and buckles securing Marth's clothing.

The man he was so busily kissing with all his inexperienced ardor smiled into the kiss and discreetly helped him with the more difficult clothing articles. The pale blue tunic and the breeches and stockings were soon removed, the prince acknowledging how shy the hero was and removing his own underwear.

"Let me take care of that," he murmured, and tugged softly at the green fabric of the hero's tunic. Obediently, the hero allowed the prince to take his tunic, helping him along by holding his arms out to let the prince pull the garment off of him. The white undershirt followed soon after.

The color rose on Link's cheeks again. Pointed ears drooping slightly, he looked to the side as he realized he stood nude in front of a man he'd only briefly admired earlier that day. A husky murmur caught his attention, and he lifted his gaze from the floor to the other man's face again. "… I'm sorry, I didn't really catch that…"

"Beautiful." The prince stepped closer to the blonde and spoke the words to Link's lips, "Every part of you… beautiful." Their close-not-quite-contact sent a tingle of electricity down the Hylian's spine.

In the ensuing kiss Link felt his hat being removed. He couldn't complain, though… it wasn't something he could explain, but it felt right… felt good, being close to the prince like this. And then he felt himself being picked up and carried to the bed, where he was deposited gently.

The rest of the night dissolved into a blurry haze of pleasure. The Hero lost himself beneath the prince's skilled ministrations; he arched, moaned, pleaded, wept, and shattered away into the simple cotton sheets of his bed. His arms wrapped firmly around the prince, their lips locked and tongues clashed and Link knew somehow that there would never be another.

"Beautiful… like Nayru's Sapphire," he mumbled, shortly before falling asleep.

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It was not quite dawn when the prince gently disentangled himself from the hero's sleeping embrace and dressed, quietly and efficiently. Standing by the bed and gazing down at Link's peacefully slumbering figure—against his better judgment—he pressed a light kiss to the Hylian's cheek. Turning towards the door, he slipped on his boots and left.

The door closed behind him with a soft, final click. "Thank you for everything, Link."

A/N: I was bored. And my evil twin was nagging. Thus this was born... you may make whatever you please of it. You may also yell at me for neglecting to include a plot, because there isn't really a plot. At least, I don't think there's a plot.