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After the coupling fires, after Breteau, after Naos, after the clan raid and discovering that Laurent had planned it, it felt like much had changed, as though many weeks had passed for Damen in the last couple of days, and yet when he and Laurent were alone again, in Laurent’s confection of a tent, somehow it felt as it had been.
Laurent looked at maps and read correspondence by candlelight while Damen looked over Laurent’s armor in the flickering light of the brazier, and Damen watched as Laurent’s posture grew more disorganized. He brought his knee up and rested the sole of his boot on his ornate chair carelessly, and leaned his arm against his knee and propped his head on his arm.
The camp noises outside the tent subsided as chores were finished and the men retired. Laurent yawned.
Damen finished with the armor and then found that he had nothing to do but watch Laurent.
Laurent seemed to finish. He rolled up one of his maps emphatically, and tied it off with a piece of twine, and then he changed his posture in his chair, sitting up, draping one ankle over his opposite knee and letting his wrist dangle over his knee casually.
He looked over at Damen, acknowledging Damen’s presence, and said, “What makes for a satisfying sexual encounter, for you?" He spoke Akielon, they were still speaking Akielon when alone together, though Damen did not see how this particular topic was sensitive to eavesdroppers.
Damen was still seated on a small stool next to the brazier. Like all Veretian furniture, it was strangely ornate. A simple wooden stool would have sufficed, but of course it was padded and covered with embroidered fabric. Damen sat up a bit straighter on the stool. “A satisfying sexual encounter,” Damen echoed.
Laurent arched one eyebrow, waiting.
Damen remembered Laurent suddenly in his pet costume, and looked at his ears, which were free of the jeweled earring. Damen was too far away to see that they were pierced.
It felt, like most of Laurent’s questions, like a trap.
“I enjoy pleasing my partner,” Damen said.
Laurent waited. He had the same air he had when he received reports from scouts in the field, attentive, waiting, a faint air of disappointment about the content of the report.
Damen tried to elaborate. “I like to use my hands, or my mouth, to arouse my partner. To find what touches they enjoy, and then to touch them in that way, so that their pleasure grows.” Damen glanced at Laurent, who was as still as a marble statue.
“It is different depending on my partner,” Damen said. “Some people prefer gentle touches and others firm, and people like to be caressed in different places--” Damen wondered what type of touch Laurent himself would prefer. Was Laurent in bed as Laurent was on the field, with his discerning gaze and repeated command of “Again!” Did Laurent arch into a touch as might a cat sleeping in the sunlight in the garden?
Laurent gave a little nod that meant he should continue.
“It is rewarding when I can bring so much pleasure that they are overwhelmed,” Damen said.
“You like when other people lose control,” Laurent said, coolly.
Damen frowned a little. He hadn’t meant it that way, exactly. He tried to clarify. "I like when they feel so much pleasure that they aren't thinking--” he trailed off, uncertain how to make himself more clear, even as they spoke his native language.
“I see,” Laurent said eventually, though Damen was not certain that he did see.
There was a moment of quiet, with only the quiet noise of the brazier.
"Go on," Laurent said.
Damen wasn’t sure what else to say. Laurent had asked a question and he had answered it. His face must have made his uncertainty clear.
"You've spoken of their pleasure," Laurent prompted. "What of your pleasure?"
Damen felt increasingly wary. "What do you mean?"
“Your pleasure,” Laurent said, his voice a bit sharper. “You take it?”
Damen looked at Laurent. There were moments when he thought he understood Laurent and there were moments when Laurent was opaque to him. He wondered if they were hitting the limits of Laurent’s Akielon vocabulary. “Are you asking about orgasm?” he said, offering the word. In Vere the word for any kind of pleasure and the word for orgasm were the same, perhaps Laurent assumed they were also so in Akielon. He raised a hand to clarify the term, realized that any gesture he made would be lewd, and tried words instead. “When you finish--
“I understand,” said Laurent.
“I enjoy finishing,” Damen said, feeling confused. “But I--” he trailed off, uncertain.
Laurent’s eyes narrowed.
Damen wondered again if they were experiencing a problem of vocabulary. Perhaps he should switch to Veretian? Or perhaps there was no need. The question was dispensed with. Perhaps Laurent would unroll his maps yet again, or rise and bid Damen to unlace his jacket.
Laurent seemed comfortable enough, and he had begun the conversation after all, so Damen said, boldly, “What about you?”
Laurent’s gaze focused sharply on Damen again.
“What makes for a satisfying sexual encounter, for you?" Damen asked.
Laurent didn’t change position in his chair, but his gaze left Damen and lingered, unfocused on a corner of the tent.
“Do you want me to answer that?” Laurent said, after a moment. This question did not feel like a trap, it felt like a knife.
“I asked,” Damen said.
“Do you think I will answer it?” Laurent said.
Damen did not actually expect Laurent to answer. Answering a question about sex was out of keeping with Laurent’s reputation as an ice prince, and being fickle about what he was willing to tell Damen was in keeping with Damen’s experience of him. After a moment of waiting and Laurent not answering, Damen rose, and carefully began to put Laurent’s armor away at the other end of the tent.
Laurent waited until the pieces were hung on their stand and Damen had turned back toward before he spoke. That left Damen standing across the tent while Laurent was speaking.
“I prefer men,” Laurent said, which Damen had known since their conversation at the inn when he had asked about women, but which still made Damen stand a little bit straighter. Laurent continued, “who are on their knees in front of me.”
Damen thought about kneeling in front of Laurent’s ridiculously ornate chair. He would have to move it away from the map table, but if it were turned to the side--
Laurent was still speaking. “He shouldn’t touch me with his hands,” Laurent said, and his tone made it clear that he considered that idea slightly repulsive, “but he should open his mouth to receive my cock--”
They had not discussed genitalia in Akielon before, but Laurent seemed to have no difficulty with the vocabulary.
“--and if I am feeling disinclined then it is his job to rouse my cock to hardness--”
Laurent had to tilt his neck slightly upward to make eye contact with Damen while he was speaking, since he was seated and Damen was standing, and Damen looked back at him, but in his head, Damen pictured kneeling in front of Laurent, his hands clasped obediently behind his back, using his lips and his tongue to lave Laurent’s cock and make him hard.
“--or if I am ready to fuck--” Laurent’s voice curling around the word fuck echoed in Damen’s ears. “--it is only your job to keep your mouth open until I spend.”
Damen could almost taste Laurent finishing in his mouth. He took a breath, listening to Laurent’s words again in his head.
“Your?” he said, thinking of taking a step closer.
Laurent broke eye contact. “His,” Laurent corrected, smoothly, as he did every mistake he made with Akielon.
“And then--” Damen said. His lips felt bruised and his mouth tasted salty, as though he had already pleasured Laurent.
“Then nothing,” said Laurent, meeting his eyes again. “That is all. I do not,” he paused, as though he were saying something distasteful, “reciprocate.”
Laurent held his gaze for a long moment. Damen could see the candle reflected in his eyes, flickering.
Damen took a step closer, across the tent.
Laurent sat up, letting his leg fall to the ground. “You’re dismissed,” he said.
“Do you want--” Damen started, thinking he would offer to undress Laurent.
“No,” Laurent said, and waved one hand toward Damen’s bedroll. Damen retreated and reclined on his slave pallet in the corner.
He could hear Laurent moving. Laurent blew out the candles with a huff of air, and then Laurent undressed himself, in the dark.