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[chokuto]

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im sorry about this

[wrists]

[ laurent knows exactly where he is upon waking — the creamy linen bedding against his skin, the familiar scent of lilies perfuming the air, the same open book slipping from his sleep-warmed fingers from weeks, no, months ago since he’d blinked and found himself in the netherworld. all is the same. nothing disturbed, only this time swathed in his sheets is another body, the silken fall of black hair spreading like an inkstain across his bed.

for a long moment, laurent does nothing. says nothing. no one will enter the prince’s chambers unless by order of the prince himself — or the regent — and so he has time to think. he is home. whether that is a regrettable circumstance or not is yet to be seen. but sasuke has somehow been pulled with him, and that poses a problem. the way laurent has been behaving will swiftly have to change course, and sasuke will likely not understand, because he barely understands basic concepts and will certainly not grasp the complicated machinations of veretian court. ]

Wake up, lover. [ laurent, with his cheek propped against one hand, lounges in the bedsheets like a spoiled cat. his foot nudges at the closest part of sasuke’s body, taking no care to be gentle. ] And don’t make a scene, because the guards outside the door will have no problem slitting your throat while I watch. You’re in Vere now, so understand this: you are my property, and you will do as I say. You have no other options. No, actually, you do. You can be flogged to death for sneaking into the Prince’s bedchambers and trying to fuck him. Now get out of my bed.

[ laurent, finally, sits up, moving to slip from beneath the covers with a quiet rustle. he crosses the room in a lazy prowl, pulling open his wardrobe and spending a moment picking through it — then, turns, a gauzy silk tunic extended in one hand, the fabric as silken and sheer as a waterfall. ]

Take off your clothes. You'll wear this.