The ballroom had been stunningly transformed. Lights twinkled everywhere and the entire space glowed invitingly. Henri felt as if he had stepped into a fairy forest. The musicians had already begun their initial set, and the first guests were arriving. Out of the corner of his eye, Henri saw Julien take a deep breath and affix a smile on his face before descending the staircase to meet his guests. Henri could not leave him, knowing they would soon be separated for hours, and tagged along to greet the group that had just arrived.
The party consisted of an old woman and a young one, who was clinging nervously to the arm of a young gentleman. The old woman was clad in a ridiculously old-fashioned ball gown and a powdered wig, of all things. One would have thought she had come straight from the court at Versailles in Marie Antoinette's day. Her face was powdered white and her cheeks and lips smeared with rouge. It was all Henri could do not to laugh.
Julien had clearly met this woman before, and was not struggling with the shock of first seeing such an apparition. Still, he did not seem particularly happy to see her.
Great Aunt Marlena, for that was who she was, strode flamboyantly over to Julien and pinched his cheeks, exclaiming at his age, and how generally well he looked. Julien bore it gracefully.
Glancing around for a way out of the situation, Julien spied Henri standing next to him. He seemed visibly relieved, and gently interrupted the fawning tirade. "Oh, Aunt Marlena, have you met my dear friend, Monsieur Henri Combeferre? Monsieur Combeferre, this is my Great Aunt Marlena."
Henri suddenly found himself the victim of an extremely vicious attack on his cheeks. For Julien, though, he would bear the pinching. He smiled and said, "Very pleased to make your acquaintance, Madame."
"Oh, charmed, dear, charmed. Julien, my dear, what family did you say your friend was from? Chenonceaux?" Both boys cringed at the hated name, but Great Aunt Marlena didn't seem to notice. "They are a very nice family, and one of the boys, Didier, I think it was, is really going to be quite something. We think he'll become a favorite in the King's court. A promising youth, very promising. Do you know him, cheri?"
Julien interjected sharply. "No, Aunt Marlena. Henri's family name is Combeferre."
Aunt Marlena continued on obliviously, as if Henri was not there. "Combeferre, did you say? Why I've never heard the name in my life, my dear, you simply must be mistaken."
Julien's eyes glinted with a cold rage. Not only had his Aunt dared to mention the name of that hated boy, but had praised him, mistaken him as a relation of Henri's, and then insulted Henri beyond measure by implying that his family was of no importance. It was through sheer willpower that he maintained his composure. "No, Madame. I assure you that my friend knows his own name," he said measuredly.
Luckily for everyone, the young gentlemen with the nervous looking girl on his arm diverted the conversation. What would have happened otherwise would most likely have been disastrous.
"My dear cousin Julien," said the young man. Have you met my fiancée, Madeleine de Monmartre?"
The girl smiled shyly at Julien and proffered her gloved hand, which Julien took and kissed properly, with a bow. "I am enchanted, Madamoiselle."
"Madeleine is a very accomplished young lady. You simply must play the pianoforte for us, my darling! Julien, she is astounding!"
The girl smiled, and blushed furiously. She swatted at her fiancé's arm with her fan. "Constantine! Don't be silly!"
"Ah, but I am always silly in your presence, my dear. I cannot help myself. I am lovesick to the core!"
The couple exchanged a tender look. Julien's heart clenched in his throat. How he wished he could do not to look at Henri that way. At that moment, Aunt Marlena spied another victim across the ballroom and waddled away as quickly as she could, calling out to a young girl and her mother. Presently, the orchestra stuck up a lively waltz, and Julien's cousin swept his fiancée onto the dance floor. As guests arrived, everyone came to give Julien his congratulations. Uncles, aunts, cousins, friends, friends of cousins, business partners of uncles, wives of business partners, children of couples – it was a never-ending slough of cant.
Henri tried his best to stay by Julien through it all, but soon found himself obliged to dance a minuet with a young lady without a partner, and it was all downhill from there. The dark-haired boy was caught in a whirlwind of light, color, music, laughter, and snippets of conversation. He was bumped to and fro, here and there, introduced himself countless times to faces he would never see again, and didn't catch a glimpse of Julien all the while. No wonder his friend had been dreading this. Parties were arduous work!
After what seemed like a dozen unwelcome dances with young ladies whose names he would never remember, Henri escaped into a dark, cool hallway with a glass of wine. The darkness and relative quiet was a relief. He was alone but for a rather preoccupied couple several yards down the hall. He paid them no mind. Absolutely exhausted, Henri sank to the floor in a heap, and gulped downed his cool wine. His throat was parched. It was hot in that ballroom, and he had to scream over the din to be heard.
Taking out his handkerchief, he patted at his forehead, then took off his spectacles to knead the bridge of his nose. He curled up, crossing his arms about his legs, and rested his head on his knees, breathing deeply. How he wished that Julien were with him. How he wished that he could ease his friend's mind, and take him away from all of this. To be alone together, away from the cacophony of cant and the drunken squeals of laughter. If only "polite" society would depart from these stiffly structured social institutions, and allow people to simply be themselves. Allow couples to hold hands to their own music, and friends to meet without worry of being judged. For all of the wealth and glamour in the ballroom tonight, no one in attendance could be said to be truly free. And wasn't freedom worth more than material wealth? The world was upside down that it did not see its folly. A revolution was in order. To free men from the grips of poverty, and to free others from the grips of social taboo. Soon. Soon the revolution would come.
Presently, the orchestra finished its last piece of the set, and supper was announced. Henri stood gravely and set his shoulders. Time to face what was to come.
As Henri entered the dining room, he was shown to his seat. Much to his surprise, he was seated at the right of the head of the table, next to Julien. It was not often that people who knew each other were seated next to one another. Parties were opportunities for socializing, and that usually demanded a seating chart that would mix people into unlikely pairs. Henri was seated just as Julien entered the room, and Julien winked kindly at his friend, and stood behind his chair.
When the noise had died down, and everyone seemed to be in their place, Julien, still standing, cleared his throat. All present gave him their attention, and Julien began his speech.
"Thank you, everyone, for coming. I am glad to have you here with me to celebrate my fifteenth birthday. I am sure that I could expound upon my feelings of gratitude for hours, but I do not believe boring you into a puddle would be particularly endearing. Therefore, my good friends and cousins, please enjoy your meal, and trust that the brevity of my address is not a slight, but an act of love, and a complement to your appetites. Bon appétit."
Everyone seemed visibly relieved that they had not been made to listen to a long-winded thank you speech, and supper was served. Julien glanced quickly at Henri with a knowing smile, and nudged his knee under the table. Henri could not have been happier for a break in their ordeal.
They chatted politely with the guests seated near them, but neither boy paid much attention to anyone but his friend. When supper finally settled to an end, Julien had been absently stroking Henri's palm under the table for full fifteen minutes, and they had a sense that they had stood up together against a formidable force, and come through to the other side. They were comrades in arms, fighting all pressures to succumb to societal expectations. They were positively jubilant at a battle won without offending anyone's sensibilities.
So, as the music began again in the ballroom, and couples began to filter off to dance, Julien and Henri quietly slipped away, giggling giddily (and perhaps a little bit drunkenly) at their triumph.
"Did you see Cousin Matthieu's ridiculous affectation?!" Julien exclaimed in a stage whisper, positively bubbling with glee, as the pair escaped down a darkened hallway. "You'd have thought he'd just been named King of the Ottomites for all his carrying on, and not just an assistant clerk at the magistrate!"
At this, Julien was consumed with another fit of laughter and, clutching his sides, he leaned into his friend, who was in a similar state. Gasping for breath, they slid down a wall to sit panting on the floor in tired contentment, still grinning ear to ear. After a moment, however, Julien realized that he was practically sitting in Henri's lap and, blushing, he moved to stand. Henri only held him closer. Nuzzling into Julien's smooth, white neck, he whispered conspiratorially. "Let's escape all this. We can go out to the gardens and lie in the grass behind the rose hedges. Stare up at the stars."
Julien was inclined to agree, and let himself be held close for a moment longer, basking in the warmth of his dearest friend's touch, breathing in his clean, earthy scent. This time, though, he pulled away, and stood. He held out a hand to his dark-haired friend. "Come. We must return to the party. The guests will be leaving soon, and they will wish to bid me adieu. You would not have me neglect my duties?"
Henri stood to face his friend, and gave him a wistful little smile. "I would if I could. I would keep you all to myself." But Henri contented himself with a little peck on Julien's cheek, and turned away to straighten his waistcoat and cravat.
"You would?" Julien asked his friend, a queer expression on his face.
Henri swiveled back around to face Julien, confused, having forgotten what he had said. "Would what?"
"You… you said you would keep me all to yourself if you could," Julien whispered, almost in a daze.
Henri's eyes widened and he looked his friend up and down. What was wrong with Julien? He seemed so… so vulnerable. Henri was unaccustomed to seeing doubt in his fearless revolutionary's eyes. But there it was, along with another emotion, difficult to place. Though… it looked decidedly like… longing. Could it be that Julien longed for Henri as Henri longed for Julien?
Furrowing his brown in determination, Julien continued on courageously, even without an answer. "What if… what if I told you I wanted you to – to keep me all to yourself? What if I told you that I wanted to give all of myself to you? And that I pine for every part of you, in turn?" As he spoke, he moved closer to his green-eyed companion.
"Julien…" Henri breathed. They were so close now that they could feel each other's breath on their skin. Eyes met, and their gaze could not be broken. Understanding thickened in the inch of air between them, and soon they realized that air was the only thing holding them apart.
Desperately, their lips crashed together, all reason flying out the window. They did not care for the guests. They did not care that they could be caught at any moment. All they felt was their searing need, thrumming between them. Hearts pounded, cheeks burned, fingers wandered and, panting, the boys pressed their bodies impossibly close, as if they could melt together and become one.
Then, all in a moment, the music came to an end in the ballroom and there was a loud clatter in the kitchens below. The boys flew apart, startled. But they relaxed as a waltz began, and they realized nothing was amiss. Still panting, they looked at each other and chuckled nervously.
An awkward silence pressed in around them for a moment until Julien, setting his jaw, spoke. "Henri, follow me and play along. I am afraid our guests will have to see themselves out tonight."
Julien marched towards the ballroom and Henri trailed in his wake, curious to find out what Julien had planned. Just as they reached the ballroom, Julien flung an arm about Henri's shoulders and leaned weakly into his support. Henri understood. Setting his expression to one of genuine concern, Henri led his indisposed friend into the ballroom.
"Take me to my mother, Henri," Julien murmured into the brunette's ear. Henri complied, and began to help Julien towards where his mother stood by the grand staircase. As they wended their way through the crowd, concerned family members began to crowd in around them, wondering if Julien was alright.
"Julien is not feeling well. It has been an exciting night, but I assure you he will be well with a good rest." Still, people flocked around, and the rumor that the man of the evening was gravely ill spread like wildfire. By the time they reached Clarice, a sizeable crowd had gathered, everyone shouting orders at everyone else to fetch a doctor, or a glass of water, or a fan.
Thankfully, Clarice knew just how to diffuse the situation. She called a footman to carry Julien up the stairs, and the boys promptly escaped the nattering crowd. Meanwhile, Clarice assured the endless masses of aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends of step-aunts-in-law's fathers that her son would be quite well in the morning, thanked everyone for their concern, and encouraged them to return to the dance floor. In a very few minutes, everyone was back to their business as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. And Julien and Henri were safe upstairs.
The footman had been very concerned about Julien's wellbeing, but Henri assured him that he had the situation under control. His father was a doctor, and he was absolutely sure that Julien needed only rest, but "Thank you, I will ring if any assistance is needed." At long last, the footman left, mollified now that he had done his duty.
They waited until they heard the footman's steps recede into the distance. Then, they burst out into jovial laughter.
"Oh, Henri, mon ami, what wonderful acting!"
"Me? Why, I am not the one who had to be carried up the stairs, utterly limp!"
Julien giggled coyly and tackled Henri to the bed. Henri kicked off his shoes and they lied facing each other, still grinning headily with their triumph. "I was good, wasn't I?"
Henri smiled radiantly and nuzzled his freckled nose against Julien's. Their foreheads touched, and dark curls intermingled with fair ones. "Yes. You were wonderful. You are wonderful."
Julien felt so happy he could burst. His nerves fizzed pleasantly, like champagne, and he simply could not help but kiss. Holding Henri close, he peppered his friend's face with sweet kisses. Cheeks, nose, forehead, eyelids, ear – anything he could reach. Henri flushed under the attention, and Julien thought his pink face was heart-breakingly adorable.
"Mmmh, Henri," Julien murmured dreamily between lazy kisses and nuzzles. "My lovely Henri. Beautiful, handsome, smart, lovely Henri. Love... Love… Love... Love you."
Henri had had enough of being admired, however, and took Julien's face between his palms to kiss him firmly on the mouth. Julien did not mind a bit, but for the usual awkwardness as Henri's spectacles interfered. But that was quickly remedied, and the young lovers continued to kiss lazily, tongues sliding slickly against one another amidst pleasured hums.
After a while, Henri pulled away to nibble gently at Julien's jaw. "Julien, darling, how did your mother know not to call a doctor? How did she know that you were not genuinely ill, I mean?"
"My mother knows I haven't such a weak constitution and – well, to tell you the truth, Henri, she knows about…erm… how I feel… about you."
Henri's eyes darted sharply up to meet Julien's, displaying a tenuous mixture of hope and fear. "You mean..? Well, Julien, I must ask – and be plain with me – how exactly do you feel about me?"
"Oh, Henri, you know I love you, heart, soul, mind and body," Julien gushed. Still, he hesitated in saying what had yet to be said. "But… ah… what my mother noticed was that… Shall we say, when I look at you, Henri, it is often with no small amount of lust." Julien was scarlet with mortification, and he rushed to qualify his statement, "Oh, I know you may not feel the same way, Henri, but I felt I must tell you the truth and – "
Julien was unable to finish, as Henri crushed his mouth to Julien's and kissed him with a fervor he had never felt in all his life. Julien loved him! And Julien wanted him! Julien was his, and he was Julien's!
Breaking away, panting, words tumbled from Henri's lips in his mad rush to assure Julien he returned his sentiments. "Oh, amour! My darling, darling Julien I do feel the same. Be my Achilles or be my Patroclus! I care not which, just love me!" They kissed again, with searing heat, desperate for one another.
Blood sung in their veins, and there was a mad fumbling at clothing, and Henri had his hand up Julien's shirt, needing to touch his perfect skin. But then it wasn't enough and he was obliged to pull away to properly unbutton the offending article of clothing. Julien had already removed his suit coat, waistcoat, shoes, and stockings when the footman had put him to bed, so all Henri needed to focus on was Julien's shirt buttons. Julien, however, had also decided to focus on his buttons, and two frantic pairs of hands on one fastening weren't doing any good, so Henri batted away Julien's hands and continued to bare the blond boy's beautiful lean chest.
"God, you've no idea how many times I've thought about this," Henri muttered as he struggled with a particularly difficult button.
Julien, who had somehow managed to sit up and nip at Henri's neck while his shirt was being undone, looked at Henri in happy amazement. "You've thought about this?"
Henri blushed, but nodded. "Of course I have. How could I not? You're gorgeous."
Julien, tired of waiting, tugged his shirt off halfway undone, flung it across the room, and pulled Henri into another fierce kiss. "I have too," he said with a shy smile. Henri beamed in triumph and, trying to kiss Julien and unbutton his suit coat at the same time, leaned in and bumped his nose against his love's. They laughed together, breathy with need.
"Why don't I take off my clothes and you yours, and it'll move more quickly," Julien said sensibly, already tentatively tugging at his trouser fastenings. As rapidly as Henri was shedding his layers, Julien, who had been half-undressed already, was finished first. Embarrassed at his nudity, he dove under the bedclothes before Henri could see him and watched as Henri's beautiful skin was bared. "What have you thought about?" Julien ventured, feeling suddenly timid. "When you thought about… this?"
Henri glanced up from unfastening his trousers and turned to look at Julien in bed. Seeing his love ready for him nearly killed him. His pupils blown wide and heart racing, Henri tugged off his remaining clothing and climbed onto the bed. "How about I show you?" Without further ado, Henri proceeded to straddle Julien where he lay beneath the coverlet and kiss him within an inch of his life.
Henri knew not what had caught hold of him, but his wild longing for Julien threw every sensible thought to the winds. He could not feel fear. He could not feel shame. All there was in the world was his Julien. Scarlet lips warm and pliant beneath his own. Golden curls, glinting in the lamplight. Cheeks, highly coloured and hot to the touch. Creamy pale skin glowing, radiating warmth and light. Flashes of blue eyes from beneath a delicate fringe of white lashes. The sweet little sounds he made as Henri ravished his mouth.
Julien's strong fingers fisted in Henri's chestnut curls and Henri's hands wandered, mapping every inch of the boy he had come to love. The bedclothes had long been shoved away and forgotten, and the Henri pressed Julien down to lie beneath him. Pulling away at last, gasping for breath, he stared down at Julien, drinking in the sight. He was absolutely debauched, curls in disarray, flushed and sweaty. His cock, more perfect than Henri had ever imagined it, curved upward, thick and hot.
"You are so beautiful," the dark-haired boy whispered in awe, stroking absently up and down Julien's chest.
Julien leaned up and captured his love's lips in a sloppy, needy kiss. "Touch me," he breathed. Henri was only too happy to oblige. Pulling Julien into another fierce kiss, he lowered his golden head onto the pillow and reached between their bodies to palm Julien's aching hardness.
"Ohhh!" Julien groaned into Henri's mouth, canting his hips into his friend's grip. Henri hissed, half in pleasure and half in pain, as Julien's fingernails dug into his shoulder blades. Then, scrambling to give Henri pleasure in return, Julien reached down to touch Henri. Pulling Henri's hips down onto his own, he lent his grip to their mutual bliss. They thrust together, delighting in the delicious chafe of cock against cock, slick with pre-cum.
"Ahhh, Julien!" cried Henri as the blond thumbed over the head of his cock. Desperately close now, he bit down onto Julien's neck, giving a strangled moan.
"Nng, God, Henri. So close," Julien panted, bucking into his friend's hand.
Then, being young and hot-blooded, Henri came hard onto Julien's abdomen with a strangled cry. Julien followed closely after, thrusting into the wet heat between them.
Henri collapsed atop his love and, for a moment, they simply lied there, heaving in great gulps of air. Then, with a loving kiss, the dark-haired boy rolled off Julien and lied on his back, staring up at the ceiling in a pleasured daze. Julien nuzzled closer. Nestling his head in the crook of Henri's neck and shoulder, Julien sighed in contentment and wiped up their mess with the abandoned sheets. He'd have them cleaned later. Julien took Henri's hand in his and began absently tracing patterns on his palm, every now and then bringing it to his lips.
They lied like that for a long while, pressed side to side, while Julien kissed Henri's fingertips, his warm palm, a narrow wrist, his pale forearm, freckled shoulder, and eventually his mouth once more. Languidly, they kissed, memorizing each other's mouths – every tooth and every ridge, and whatever they liked one another to do best. They were still like that perhaps a quarter of an hour later. Julien had straddled Henri and was lying atop him, nipping at his pulse point, while Henri stroked up and down his smooth back. A gentle breeze swept across their skin through the open window.
Julien leaned up to kiss Henri on the mouth. He did not think he would ever tire of kissing those sweet lips, or feeling Henri's warm breath on his face. He could never have enough of Henri. Breaking away, he looked down at his love. Henri still looked like pure sex. His dark brown curls, gleaming reddish in the candle light, were mussed and sweat-dampened. His lean body, firm beneath Julien's own, radiated warmth. The adorable freckles that usually dusted across Henri's cheeks and the bridge of his nose were irresistible on his flushed face. He looked so innocent… but he definitely was not. Julien smirked wickedly at the thought, and his cock twitched with renewed interest.
Henri noticed. "Why are you looking at me so?"
"Because I want you so," Julien said simply, leaning down to kiss Henri quiet.
Henri threw his head back with a delicious moan as Julien reached down to stroke him to hardness. "Julien, darling, you want to..?"
"Do it again? Yes."
Pupils dilating, Henri surged up to kiss Julien hotly, affirming that the interest was mutual. Henri immediately took control, pushing Julien to lie beneath him on the bed. He kissed him with an intensity new to both of them and ground his hips against his love's. Both relished the friction.
"Ahhh… Henri…" Julien drawled in pleasure, grinding his filling cock against the skin of Henri's hip. "Henri, wait, wait," he said suddenly, gently pushing the brunette away.
Henri pulled back sharply, fearing he had hurt Julien. "Julien, what is the matter?"
Julien shook his head rapidly, reassuring his lover. "No, nothing… it's just… Don't you want to… ah… try something else?"
Henri's cheeks burned as a thousand filthy things flashed into his mind. Looking into Julien's wide blue eyes, he gulped. "What did you have in mind?" he asked carefully.
"I do not quite know," he admitted blushfully, eyes downcast. "I had thought you might know more than I."
Henri's heart was in his throat. He knew what he wanted, but he was afraid to ask. What would Julien think of him? "There… there is a thing that I know of."
The blond boy looked up at his love, complete trust in his eyes, willing him to continue.
"You see… ah… there is a place inside of a man whereby he can receive pleasure. It feels… excellent. Almost as good as touching here." Henri ghosted his hand over Julien's prick, eliciting a little hiss.
"So you want to take me, Henri?" Julien asked, and Henri blushed furiously at his frankness, embarrassed. "That's alright," Julien said with a reassuring smile, reaching up to cup Henri's cheek, "I want you to take me, too. I want to give you all of me. I want to feel you."
Henri looked visibly relieved, and his eyes sparked in anticipation. He kissed Julien hard, assuring his love he would do his very best for him. "Do you – " Henri cleared his throat nervously, " – do you have any oil or..?"
Julien leaned over to rummage in his bedside drawer and came up with a pot of hand cream. It would have to do. Henri nodded, and Julien handed it to Henri, looking unsure of himself. "Ahem… what do I do now, Henri?"
Henri gave Julien a swift peck on the lips and gestured towards the head of the bed. "Lie back, love, and spread your legs for me." Julien did as he was told, and made himself comfortable on the pillows. Henri slicked his fingers with the hand cream and crawled nearer to Julien, who was lying flushed and ready for him.
Henri swallowed hard and, green eyes wide, he drank in the beautiful sight of his love debauched. "I'm going to stretch you now, amour. Just relax. It will be easier that way."
Julien nodded and shut his eyes, and Henri gently parted the blond boy's pert buttocks and pressed a finger to his tight entrance. Julien jumped slightly at Henri's wet touch in such an intimate place. "S'cold," he muttered by way of explanation, but did not object to Henri's ministrations. And, although the dark-haired boy kicked himself internally for forgetting to warm their makeshift lubricant between his hands before touching Julien, he felt that the other boy was quite willing to continue. So, ever so slowly, Henri kneaded Julien's entrance and worked a finger inside.
Julien drew deep breaths at the intrusion and his cock throbbed with arousal. His fingers drifted towards his aching prick, but he refused to touch himself until Henri was inside of him, knowing himself well enough to know he could not last very long.
"Is this alright?" Henri asked, working his finger slowly in and out of Julien.
"Yes, it's good, Henri. Keep going. I can take another," Julien said with a little cant of the hips. Henri, pleased to find that his love was enjoying the new sensation, eased another slick finger into Julien's tight heat. After wriggling his fingers and stretching Julien's opening, Henri searched for the nub he knew would give Julien such pleasure. The green-eyed lad did not wish his love to be uncomfortable in the slightest, and if he could just find –
"Oh," was Julien's response when Henri pressed the secret place. Rapidly, Henri repeated the action, and he had Julien bucking wildly into his touch within moments, moaning unintelligibly.
"God, Henri, what is that?! Ah!" Henri thought he had never seen anything so beautiful as the perfect arch of Julien's back. Julien continued to speak, words tumbling from his lips to float away on the wind unheeded. But their meaning was not unheeded. And Henri was more than willing to oblige Julien's requests. "More, more, more," the golden-haired youth began to chant quietly – like a prayer. Gently as always, Henri slid a third finger in beside the others. Julien groaned sinfully at the stretch. The dark haired boy thought he might just cum from the sound. The sound of his Julien moaning his name.
Ever so slowly, Henri moved his fingers apart, easing Julien wider. He whispered praise and endearments, kissing and petting whatever skin he could reach. Finally, just when Henri did not think he would be able to wait any longer, Julien cried out, "Henri, take me now. Now, love, I'm ready."
Henri slipped his fingers out and leaned up to kiss Julien hard on the mouth. "You're sure?" he asked. But Julien's eyes conveyed only trust and longing – no fear.
"Yesss," the blond youth hissed, throwing his head back onto the pillows and jerking his hips upward to collide with Henri's. The green-eyed boy took that to be a definite affirmation of their mutual desire, and wasted no more time. After coating himself liberally with lubricant, Henri positioned himself at Julien's entrance and pushed slowly into his delicious, tight heat.
Both boys groaned loudly. Fully sheathed, Henri paused for a moment, panting, to look down at his beautiful Julien. Julien would not have that, however and, fisting his fingers in Henr's chestnut curls, he pulled him down into a heated kiss. "Move," the blond groaned as he broke away from Henri's mouth, wrapping his legs around his waist. And Henri did.
They rocked together gently at first, but gradually they increased their pace. There were no more words to be said. Their bodies, in tune with each other, instinctively knew how to give what the other needed. Henri wrapped his fist around Julien's throbbing length and stroked it in time with his thrusts, much to Julien's pleasure. In ecstasy, Julien cried out incoherently and scrabbled at Henri's back, surely marring Henri's skin with lovely red scratches. Henri did not mind in the least.
Overwhelmed by the onslaught of stimulation – both from within and from without – Julien spent himself first, gasping his love's name. Henri followed a moment after, giving into the clench of Julien's body as he tensed in pleasure. He thrust several more times into Julien's willing body, riding out his climax. Then, having cum for the second time in under an hour, Henri collapsed atop his beloved, exhausted.
There was a long moment of exquisite silence, punctuated only by the sound of labored breathing, and both young men felt as if their souls had run together, never to be separated again. With a soft groan, Henri slid out of Julien and flopped down by his side, nestling his head into the crook of his neck and shoulder. Julien's gut clenched in a mixture of embarrassment and pride as he felt Henri's hot seed drip out of him and onto the sheets.
However, feeling happier than he had ever been in his memory, the golden youth could not help but pull Henri to him in a joyful kiss. Grinning at one another, they kissed lightly, reveling in the simple touch of skin – the familiar smells and glowing warmth. Positively fizzing with joy, they giggled and touched and held each other close and nothing needed to be said because everything already had been. After a while, someone thought it sensible to clean up a bit, but after they had done this, they collapsed into bed without a care in the world, and drifted off to sleep in a glorious haze of love.