He did not cry out as much as whimpered when the pleasure was too much, accumulated to a dizzying degree. Hips moved to meet Laric's, stifled moans interrupting, falling quiet as he lost his breath, thrusting into the tight grip of the lover's hand, tightening around him. His upper body sunk, flaming face pressing into the pillow, completely vulnerable in the arms that held him.

He shivered, a soft hoarse noise leaving him at the kiss, feeling like his whole body was sparking from the slightest touch. A breath, another, he turned slowly to the side - and wrapped an arm around Laric's waist, fingers sliding against the small of the back. He moved closer, after a glance to make sure Laric didn't mind. Listened to the pulse under the ribs, kissed that taunting mouth, then kissed away the sheen of sweat on Laric's brow. He also needed to catch his breath, but refused to acknowledge the leaden relaxation that descended over him in the aftermath.

A small pause.
"I can still feel where you tread." Walter admitted with a breathy chuckle, keeping his voice no louder than a whisper. His hand stroked idly up Laric's ribs, and wrapped around the upper arm. "It pleases me quite well."
Another few moments passed.
"Ought to get up... would you have me bring you something, tomcat?" A soft bump of nose against nose, then another short kiss, and a bit of distance left for the answer.
 
He was in no hurry, and hardly bothered by anything.
"Should have tied me better." Walter teased, slowly pressing close. He still felt a bit too oversensitized, like sparks pricking under the skin from too much contact - but wanted the warmth at the same time. So he pulled Laric by the waist, and loosely hooked a foot behind his, knee moving against the inner thigh. Lines painted in the corners of his eyes when Laric's fingers ended up toying with his hair again. He knew full well about the threads of silver in jet black, but that kind of touch, when fingertips grazed against the scalp and moved the locks around, felt sublime. "So are you."

He lay there for a few moments, allowing his senses to settle along his mind, wanting to just sink into the bed and let the moment sink deep into the memory. Not the first nor, hopefully, the last good time they'd share, but... one never knew when good times came to an end.
"Mh..." Face moved closer to Laric's neck, Walter chuckled low, "Almost a shame I'm about to insist we'd wash off each other's scents. I hope I wasn't... too loud."
 
"Perhaps. They've left the enchanted jars and the heat stone by the basin."
He sighed. Looked at the bemused lover, and smiled back fainter.
"What if I told you that it can feel that way? It's not that a hydra would emerge from the depths of the rock and snap at me. Nor would the ghost of my father bemoan. But... this place is about our legacy, love. And I was chosen to uphold the expectations of an heir."

He was quiet for a moment, arm wrapped around Laric still.
"And so... Almost makes me feel like I am doing wrong. Even though I'm not." A ponderous glance into the other's face.

Rain still tapped at the windows, and the darkness in the room seemed blue where it was not parted by the golden orange of the candles and the hearthlight.
"Shall we make it to a bath?" He was curious to sit up. See which parts of the back would try to lodge a complaint, for one.
 
Perhaps, as relaxation overtook, Laric simply did not notice how quiet Walter went. He didn't turn pale, just very still, eyes no longer tracking the lover's movement. If there was anger, it was strangled, suppressed excruciatingly but with a practiced hand. His lips pressed tighter, and his limbs pulled closer to the body.
His head felt filled with hay and needles, foggy as the anger soaked it all like wet cotton, ruinous. It would only take the single drop over the edge.

When he spoke, his voice quivered slightly, but landed with a firm weight, anger mixing with dread.
"I will not be. Fucking. A wife."
He wasn't looking at Laric. A slow inhale followed.
"Or siring offspring. Don't you make light of this. You know nothing."

He bit his tongue. Stood, naked and immediately feeling the cool air shift around him, make him shiver as it turned every bit of sweat cold. Watched Laric tilt the large water vessel over the basin - pouring far more water than should have been inside by weight or size of it. The stone wasn't hard to activate, it fed off of internal shroud rather than conscious channeling. The rune would glow, and it would heat up swiftly and violently when lowered into the water, then keep the temperature of it.

Occupied himself with setting up a small platter of whatever was brought in, a bit of wine and glasses, onto a board tray. Put the preparation beside the basin. Pulled two long night shirts from the drawers and hung them over the modesty screen. Brought the wolfskins onto the bed - the night was going to get chilly, especially if the heartfire died out closer to the morning.
Stood around, not meeting the lover's gaze, looking for something to do until he was no longer hurting.
 
His fingers closed around the glass, and lips parted to let out an audible shuffle of an uneven exhale. Heavy eyelids lowered, lines creasing between brows, then fading on an inhale.
Walter could feel Laric drift closer, and all of a sudden felt underdressed, too bare, too vulnerable. Nodded to the apology, squeezed the lover's fingers lightly and let go, shifted slightly away.
"I just have... a lot to do," he uttered hoarsely, "before my... before..." another inhale. His features softened, in defeat. "There are things I cannot say, Laric. At least, not yet. So..."

He raised the gloved hand, ran fingers through his own hair, raked through the locks to calm himself down. Wondered, briefly, how the arm did not feel any pins or needles. Wondered if the bone was blackish-purple under the flesh, too.
"So I'll take just a moment to clear my head, and then let's set this bath up, love, and get into it, and drink some wine. It's a good evening still."
 
Eyes opened, shoulders rolled, and Walter exhaled through his nose, determination and a willful return to light mirth over the tension. He stepped closer to Laric, refilled their glasses and set his onto the tray after a sip. Half a step closer still, his warm fingers brushed against the lover's cheek.
"No, tomcat. I want to get on with our evening, if you're willing." Fingertips drifted down, caught a golden strand of hair and spiralled it around the phalanxes, playfully, before smoothing it on Laric's broad chest. "I don't want to speak of grim things tonight."

He pulled a step stool closer with his foot, and mounted it first, stepping into the hot water with a touch of pause, to get used to the temperature. Extended his hand, offering to join, and eyeing the tray to set it between them and across the basin space.
"How soundly do you sleep at night?" the baron mused. "I've half a mind to break fast here, just as well."
 
"Oh, love, no. I've been told I'm eerily quiet when I sleep," Walter offered, settling the board across the basin between them, and lowering himself onto the seat in the water across from Laric. Stretched out the legs slightly, sunk down to his clavicles, stem of the glass in the gloved fingers. Sighed, and continued, "I have nightmares, sometimes. Sometimes, they are..." he pondered a word, "very vivid."

A pause, and Walter took a sip from the glass. Eyes narrowed lightly over the rim, and the side of his foot slid against Laric's ankle.
"Don't give it too much thought. Tell me about Pantheros, instead? We should plan the trip. Seduce me," a wink, a chuckle, another draw from the glass. Wine ran out far too quickly, but the heat and alcohol helped him relax again, and quickly enough. "Once we're there, what's worth seeing? Any local cuisine that's particularly delectable? Anything you'd like to get to while we're there?"

It was a way to pass the time. Laric certainly knew the place far better, and Walter was curious. Having a tantalizing bit of knowledge prior to the experience proper would hardly spoil things, au contraire - anticipation fueled the excitement.
 
Walter took the glass, pulled closer the bottle and refilled it, passing it back with a chuckle. Perhaps he'd missed out on the point of the gesture - or was deliberately declining that sort of commiseration. His hand drifted over Laric's when the glass would have been taken, brushed gently against the knuckles and the outer side of the palm, hard fingertips drew warm lines before retracting.
"I would like to see. Exploring new places, as you know, used to be my way of life," he offered back, a wistful note in tone, eyes averted to refilling his own glass. The gloved hand wavered slightly. Red drops slid over the edge of the glass, landed at the base, another drop dissolved in water as the baron set the bottle aside. "Perhaps... ah, perish the thought." A light that filled his features faded, some, though the smile remained, as a heavier thought weighed on him. There was just so much to do, and he could only do so from the lord's seat. And after, Dolores would have a land she would not have to struggle to repair.

The mention of markets drew a smirk from him.
"Why not have a modest shopping trip before the nightfall?" he mused. "Where would you have us... bunk, after, I wonder?"
He did not bother to keep the hair from water - the tips, if wetted, would not take much effort or time to dry off. The locks undulated in the water, like spreading ink.
"I'd like to be your company," he offered. "But as I would be among people, I could not lie if questioned. On the pedigree, or otherwise."

He sank into the water a little more, arm against the edge of the basin, with a long sigh.
"Right now, my mind is on harmless debauchery, however." a glance from the heavy eyelashes. "If only I could... spend a couple weeks away from duty and simply running you into exhaustion, in every which way, until I'd feel like I've caught up with joy in life. Oh, what have you done." And leaned the wine glass to his lips with a chuckle.
 
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