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| » Age: 26 » Species: human » A5 Card: Open » Seeking: hobbies » Preferences: don't be weird » Interests: plants » Bio: more plants would be nice | |||
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| CONSTANTIN D'ORSAY | |||
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| » Age: 26 » Species: human » A5 Card: Open » Seeking: hobbies » Preferences: don't be weird » Interests: plants » Bio: more plants would be nice | |||
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| CONSTANTIN D'ORSAY | |||
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Decent chance any of the entertainment in here that's currently tucked away is like, super lewd, so don't look around too closely or anything. Simply stumble with Constantin to the nearest couch, which he finds by bumping into it backwards and tugs Lorenz down with him as he sits. He makes it that far before he breaks their latest kiss to murmur softly again, only the one word:]
Good?
[Sitting down on a couch is hardly incredibly racy, but Lorenz does seem to appreciate the baby steps, so— just checking.]
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There's a moment, fumbling at the door, where he realizes his jacket is likely in the way. A small, slightly distressed noise in his throat. He should move that, or help? Something. He should do something other than just cling to Constantin. But then he masters the door and Lorenz is quietly grateful not to have to let go of him.
Constantin might think of them as baby steps but to Lorenz it's more like scaling the ramparts of a fortress he'd thought, once, that he might find the key for. That soft question is met with silence, a shaky breath, hesitant and for a moment Lorenz isn't sure he can really breathe properly. Both hands slide up into pale strands and he tilts his head a little, leaning his forehead against Constantin's.
There are so, so many reasons not to do this, not to have even let himself get to this point. This is something he's supposed to hold close to his heart, to keep locked away secret and precious and he's just-
Goddess, he can practically hear his father's disapproval, the biting words he'd said about That Gautier Boy when things like propriety and social status was worth talking about, how much worse it would be for his own son. Things he's told himself for months now that he doesn't care what his father thinks... it's easier somehow, when it's something so big. To defy him and everything he stood for on a principle something he believed in so fully he had vowed to give his life for it.
But something so small, so trivial in the grand scheme of things, and somehow there's more guilt and shame that weighs on him for this. If pressed he could give righteous speeches on why Count Gloucester was wrong for supporting the Empire (had, in fact, in front of the Great Lords). What could he say to justify this? To make it okay that he would simply give away something that was meant to be treasured.
Because it was difficult to keep it here? Because it was inconvenient? Because he was swayed by a pretty face and earnest eyes.]
I'm not... certain.
[Finally an answer for Constantin, his voice weak and shaken, brow furrowed where he presses into the other man's warmth. It was a kiss for Sothis' sake. Nothing more, nothing that held more weight or bearing. Only a kiss. A delightful kiss that left his lips warm and eager for more... and maybe that's what scared him the most about the whole thing.
He wanted more.]
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Point being: Ah. Constantin's expression softens as Lorenz leans against him and he feels, for a moment, quite unequipped for this. For the intricacies of Lorenz's persistent inner turmoil, if only because - besides his lacking full context - it's been a very long time since he earnestly worried about... this kind of thing. Any thing someone might turn their nose up at when it comes to him, if he's being honest; his long since trained response to disapproval from his father or otherwise has been spite and not shame, and spite leaves very little room for uncertainty after long enough. Uncertainty lives in a little box and he doesn't have to look at it or open it ever, so—
So, well, he'll try. He can do this much: slipping a hand back from around his shoulders to touch his face, fingertips light against the side of his neck, his jaw, his cheek. Perhaps a comforting touch will confuse more than it helps, but this is the best he's got.]
You don't— [Mm, well, you don't have to be would almost certainly not help, here where uncertainty is the issue du jour. He purses his lips, then, second try:] You've time to think. I told you, I've got a clear schedule.
[A little lighthearted, but the sentiment is there: he's not going anywhere? He knows what it's like to be abruptly left alone with tumultuous thoughts and even for something as ostensibly simple as kissing, he wouldn't consciously do that to someone else.]
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I'm afraid I don't deserve half so much patience as you're offering me.
[It was a necessity here, wasn't it? Being so open with others, so intimate. Yet here he is falling apart over a few kisses. At once buried under the weight of disapproval of people that might never even know of what happens here and also guilt for the undue burden he was placing on others because of that weight.
He draws in a breath, it wavers and he holds it in for a moment before breathing out slowly. Too emotional, just as unbecoming as all this indecency. But he feels like he's drowning, reasons not to and reasons he must conflicting until he is forced to take a few quick, shallow breaths. They don't help, not really, and after a moment he drops his hands from Constantin to sit up a little straighter, reaching behind him to tug sharply at his laces, violet eyes glassy and fingers pulling frantically.
It's too hurried, sloppy, and the tails snag on themselves, tangling in knots too high for him to reach and he's pretty sure if he can't loosen his laces so he can take a Goddess forsaken breath he's going to start crying.]
Const- [His voice breaks and he curses himself again but he manages to turn a little, to make it easier for the other man to reach where he cannot. ] Can you... please?
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—But then Lorenz is hyperventilating, or something, and the melancholy mood spikes up into something more urgent? He lets go of Lorenz but his hands hover near him, just- just waiting to be told what he should do here. Concerned eyes and a furrowed brow mask well enough how out of his depth he feels, and ah- the laces, alright. That he can do.]
Hm, come here.
[He says this but it's him who shifts closer to Lorenz, leaning to one side to reach around and pluck at the guilty laces. He's never worn a corset but he's unlaced a few in markedly different circumstances, so at least he can make relatively short work of getting these knots undone. A murmured a-ha marks the moment he gets them loose, gaze flicking up to Lorenz's face to see if he's... better. Decent.
'Not about to collapse' will be enough, honestly. He rests a hand on Lorenz's upper arm, just in case he needs to untie something else, who knows.]
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A weak smile, apologetic and guilty, before he straightens enough to shrug the waistcoat off his shoulders, draping it over the back of the couch. Another shift, this time to curl up onto the couch more, pressing himself against Constantin's side, lacing their fingers together again. ]
How do you simply brush aside what others must think... given... all of this?
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Practice, I suppose.
[Another pause, while he considers how much he ought to talk about, but Lorenz is already on the list of people who know assorted unpleasant facets about his past, so. Alright.]
I'm afraid it's quite the headache and not the inspiring tale of personal strength you might hope it to be. I could never possibly satisfy what was expected of me, quite unfairly so— so I crafted some expectations of my own, in the end.
[A beat. Mm.]
Unfortunately, the callous disapproval does not simply go away. After everything else that's hung over my head, at least being with whoever I want makes me happy.
[So there: if somebody thinks his behavior is inappropriate, it still couldn't top what his parents have done. The big secret is resentment, which he doesn't recommend, necessarily... it isn't always a robust strategy.
He glances sideways at Lorenz, tilting his head to press a kiss to his temple.]
Here, in this place, it's something of a relief to be left to my own devices for once.
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That same disapproval is a barrier, though. Without the respect of other lords a man's words hold less weight. A well-respected noble can command favors, sway votes, turn things just so that the people of his territory are well cared for, even in the harshest of times.
A good marriage is just another political alliance, one that is meant to bring wealth and good fortune to the region. Refusing that support for the sake of some... infatuation? Or... even for something as selfish as love. I've never understood how someone could do that if they truly cared for their people.
[Lorenz shifts a little, scoots down so he can rest his head on Constantin's shoulder.]
What right do I have to seek my own happiness when there are those under my care that suffer?
[How can he not drown in guilt and shame for these tiny indulgences when he otherwise holds himself accountable for the happiness of an entire territory.]
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...Hmm.]
You don't think marriage is the only path to prosperity, do you? [Please, say it ain't so--] My parents have never once loved one another, and I'm sure plenty of coin changed hands when they were married. And yet the bodies of our people are still stacked dead in the streets while my esteemed father broods into his silver cups and my beloved mother plots her next assassination in luxury.
[Ahem. He shakes his head; never mind the, ah, the bitterness, but even besides that: his own family is a counterpoint to this thing Lorenz claims about advantageous unions helping the people. If nothing else, Constantin has always viewed his parents as emblematic of how not to rule.
But there are nuances within nuances and complexities unseen and etc, etc.— anyway. He strokes his fingers through Lorenz's hair, idly, watching the strands fall from his hand.]
Well, I simply don't believe the options are unabashed, careless selfishness or austere sacrifice. Surely the people in your care are more hardy than you give them credit for.
[Surely a little lord can occasionally touch another's hand without leaving the region destitute. Surely.]
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[Lorenz absolutely melts into him when fingers slide through his hair, tilts his head to look up at the other man. That familiar pain of feeling helpless in the face of so much death, war and selfish politics in his case, while the people that could make a change sat back in their mansion to do... absolutely nothing.]
Goddess, that sounds familiar. [A faint shake of his head that almost turns into a nuzzle though he checks the urge before it's more than a brush of his hair against Constantin's neck.] But that's... precisely why I have to do better. They deserve better than what my father's selfish negligence has done.
Which hardly leaves room for... [A vague gesture towards Constantin himself. For flings or romance or feelings or beautiful men that make him choke on his breath.]
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[He manages a short laugh, despite himself. It isn't really all that amusing, this seemingly endless strain of duty, but they are still... here, in a place without any of that. Perhaps he's had more practice at separating his personal wants and needs from everything else, at least enough for him to quip about it.
And there is still the empathy, which makes him sigh and fall back into a more serious tone.]
Aren't those many, many friends you mentioned right there with you in this? Without my cousin I would be hopeless! I couldn't possibly carry the weight of the world on my own.
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[Though he stresses the kissing part it's very clear the ah... men part is very much a concern as well.
Mentioning the others is only more of a headache though. It's all such a confusing mess.]
It isn't the weight of the world, there's... so much beyond Fodlan that we've never let ourselves know. But we have people here from three countries that, last I knew, were going to be re-established as a single United kingdom... lead primarily by the Professor and Claude... It's highly likely I would end up with a great deal more than just Gloucester territory to be concerned with and the war has left so much destruction to repair...
You say many but... it's really only two. I know of many of the others but I have also crossed blades with many of them, seen their armies cut down in this war. I sometimes think it might be better to know no one, like you. Than to have to look at people I thought were friends, who raised armies against us, fell and now...
[He just shakes his head again. He can't think about Ferdinand now or he really will start crying.]
There's just so much conflicting information and the freedom of being left to my own devices is so far out of the realm of possibility here...
[That he's left clinging to a man that is little more than a stranger, gifting away his first real kisses and finally, for the first time in years, beginning to crack under all the pressure.]
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Well, or. For lack of anything to say he kisses Lorenz's hair again, the top of his head, humming idly.]
I suppose there's nothing left to do but adjust. You know, to all this.
[He waves his free hand, like, this whole place. The island, everything. It may not be ideal- it certainly is not ideal, even for someone like Constantin who enjoys the freedom and the company, but it is... what it is?
Remember not long ago when they were having fun dancing... whew. That was the best.]
You and I don't know each other very well, all things considered— [Despite the kisses and the somewhat extensive sharing of personal struggles, like right now, still-] But I would help you however I can, if you like. As your refuge, or whatever you'd like to call it.
[He'd made that comment as a joke, but a little more empathetic this time around; he is... an... available shoulder? Perhaps? It's truly as much for his own benefit as it is for Lorenz, because, well. Sometimes it is... nice, almost, to speak to someone who understands the many perils of Noble Parentage (And So On).]
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Constantin D'Orsay... are you offering to be my shelter in the storm?
[Is it any wonder he can't help himself kissing this man? So many complexities and instead of unnecessary opinions or advice, things that, while well intentioned, on serve to add to the weight. No Constantin offers him the one thing he does not have. An escape. Support without guidance.
As much as he tries to make that question just a little playful, tries to claw back some of their earlier levity, it is still weighted and they both know it. But he doesn't really give Constantin much of an opportunity to answer because a moment later he's pushing himself up against the back of the couch, twisting a little so he can press his lips against the other man's once more. Reckless and foolish perhaps but... it's rather nice to do that. Just this once.]
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[Well, if he's going to say it like that, all poetry and dramatics straight out of yet another flowery romance novel— then yes, completely, that's exactly what he's getting at. He simply cannot fix these myriad problems no more than Lorenz or anyone else could saunter over to his own home and fix his, and so, is it not better this way? To have at least one anchor, of a kind?
Well, he cannot say, all of that, sure, because Lorenz moves to kiss him again too quickly to get out more than a word. He makes a noise against his mouth, surprised in the most delighted way, curling his fingers into Lorenz's hair and returning the kiss with firm insistence. Yes, this, this is allowed, they can have this.
So... good! Again! To reach out and offer a shoulder is one thing, to trust is another, and if he isn't quite there yet— he could be. Could be, a moderately intimidating prospect, despite himself. But he is, apparently, a sucker for vulnerability and a pretty face.]
Hah— Have I stumbled my way into saying the right thing, at last?
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You've been saying the right things.
[If he hadn't they wouldn't be here. It's not his fault Lorenz has so many hang ups and he's done a truly admirable job navigating them. All the more reason to reward his persistence, right? Is it... really a reward? He may talk himself up an awful lot but in this he's hardly confident enough think such things.]
Constantin... [Fingers sliding up into the other man's hair as well, mirroring him.] I feel I owe you another debt of gratitude... I do hope you will allow me to return the favor.
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You'd like me to come to you? In need?
[Whatever "in need" happens to mean, ahem... He smiles, tugging Lorenz closer, leaning their heads together. It's been some time since someone offered him anything quite so... supportive? Comforting?]
I think I'd like that.
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Good...
[Quiet and warm and he doesn't even plan it exactly but they're pressed so close the murmur is a brush of lips again. One he follows with another kiss, a little firmer, the fingers in Constantin's hair tugging gently to keep him close.]
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And speaking of, as he lets his other hand wander to Lorenz's side, ah— after what was going on before he hardly comprehended that he unlaced a corset which is now elsewhere, so hello slightly less layer-covered waist. How invigorating.]
I should mention, [he murmurs, between kisses,] that you are remarkably pretty.
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You're awfully handsome, yourself.
[Only slightly clearer than Constantin's words and that is only because... the warm weight of that hand on his side (with only the light layer of his shirt between them) encourages him, has Lorenz shifting closer until he is half in Constantin's lap. His face burns and he can't help the mental scolding that comes with being so brazen but... he also wants to be able to keep kissing him.]
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[Is this fishing for compliments? Probably, yes. In the wrong light he may look like he hasn't slept in days, but please, call him handsome as often as feels right. Particularly if it comes with all but sliding into his lap; he slips that hand down almost to his hip, then trails back up his side, languid and appreciative of the warmth radiating through his shirt.
So it's going great. Constantin doesn't want to push, but nor does he want to keep his hands entirely to himself, so this is— a fine compromise, particularly paired with such eager kisses. Constantin's other hand trails from Lorenz's hair down to the side of his neck, tracing along the line of his throat with his fingertips. All of Lorenz is very pretty, actually, and he can't help but think of what it would be like to kiss him somewhere else...
Ah, but not yet. Little steps.]
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He gets a warm affirmation hummed against his lips. It's hard for Lorenz to maintain kisses, though. He's so very unaccustomed to touch in the first place that having both of Constantin's hands on him is very quickly too much of a distraction. A hand trails down toward his hip and he gasps at the sensation but fingers on his throat ruin any focus he has for the kiss. His breath comes out in a shuddering sigh, head tilting to the side to offer up more pale skin to those exploratory fingers.
If he's this effected by his fingers surely a kiss would be too much.]
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Touching someone so very sensitive to it is honestly somewhat mesmerizing, and Constantin kisses the corner of his mouth in tandem with the press of his fingers. Warm, smooth skin, the sound of that shuddering breath— how could Constantin possibly not want more? His fingers dip below the collar of Lorenz's shirt, just as he tilts his head to brush his lips along his jawline. He will certainly dip lower if he isn't stopped, so—]
Say when.
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Then Constantin's lips slide along his jaw and the sound that comes out of him is sharp and surprised, a high, breathy little whine. The sensation, warm soft lips, damp from kisses, feels like a brand on his skin and for a moment all he can do is stare down at Constantin. Face flushed and violet eyes wide and startled. Is this sort of thing always so... intense? Still he doesn't stop the blond from whatever he might do and he won't... at least not until it comes to his buttons.]
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So: Lorenz is pretty, all clinging and eager, and he makes pretty sounds, and Constantin would very much like more of that, actually, so— hmm!]
You're fairly good with words, aren't you, [Mr. Shelter-in-the-Storm, please--] Talk to me.
[Rate and review, sir.]
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