[I know enough, is a roar in his mind the moment Laurent insinuates himself closer, commanding the space between them with power if not grace, in this state. He's known a life of manipulation. He's known a life of the threat of death, and scheming, and hatred, and every dark thing in between — but not the complex politics that web Laurent together with his uncle. That much is true. I can learn, if only he would be allowed.
It's all out of his head with their changed proximity. This, Laurent has to know; he's doing it purposefully. Climbing on top of him like he's taking a throne. Blue eyes are cold, unfocused, as a wave of ticklish golden hair sweeps Sasuke's skin, the span of those two hands on his chest all that keeps them separated. He can feel the bite of Laurent's nails through flimsy fabric. Then a hand in his hair, yanking, the taunt of a mouth too close.
Sasuke seizes up with tension, more to do with the effect this has on him than those unpromising words. He's been doomed for a while. Laurent knows, and is using that to an advantage, certainly. Desire courses through him — as unsteady a beat as his heart, lodged somewhere in his throat.]
Does my weakness matter to you? I thought it made you hate to look at me. [He brings his arms around Laurent's slender figure, caging him in around the knees, around the hips, making a loop of strong muscle that traps him where he sits on top. And this feels good, to have his body able to embrace fully, even if it isn't for battle or intimacy now. Instead it feels like he's taking a cat by the scruff of the neck.] Have you agreed to this?
[And in a calculated roll, he attempts to subvert their positions, prepared to wrestle Laurent down if necessary. He doesn't think it will be. Laurent is too uncoordinated, too distracted.]
You're going to put me in that ring and ask me to kill someone else? Why are you playing along with his game? [They're faces still loom a scant distance, but it isn't one he narrows further. Black eyes are fierce.] Laurent. Were you poisoned? What's wrong with you right now?
no subject
It's all out of his head with their changed proximity. This, Laurent has to know; he's doing it purposefully. Climbing on top of him like he's taking a throne. Blue eyes are cold, unfocused, as a wave of ticklish golden hair sweeps Sasuke's skin, the span of those two hands on his chest all that keeps them separated. He can feel the bite of Laurent's nails through flimsy fabric. Then a hand in his hair, yanking, the taunt of a mouth too close.
Sasuke seizes up with tension, more to do with the effect this has on him than those unpromising words. He's been doomed for a while. Laurent knows, and is using that to an advantage, certainly. Desire courses through him — as unsteady a beat as his heart, lodged somewhere in his throat.]
Does my weakness matter to you? I thought it made you hate to look at me. [He brings his arms around Laurent's slender figure, caging him in around the knees, around the hips, making a loop of strong muscle that traps him where he sits on top. And this feels good, to have his body able to embrace fully, even if it isn't for battle or intimacy now. Instead it feels like he's taking a cat by the scruff of the neck.] Have you agreed to this?
[And in a calculated roll, he attempts to subvert their positions, prepared to wrestle Laurent down if necessary. He doesn't think it will be. Laurent is too uncoordinated, too distracted.]
You're going to put me in that ring and ask me to kill someone else? Why are you playing along with his game? [They're faces still loom a scant distance, but it isn't one he narrows further. Black eyes are fierce.] Laurent. Were you poisoned? What's wrong with you right now?