Vacillation (1x1 Mamoru and Avery)

It was pathetic how much reassurance he needed, as though to ask on every hour 'Do you still want me?'. Because for all his faith he still couldn't believe that Oliver would pick someone like him. It was a visceral, subconscious incredulity. That Oliver was getting engaged, to anyone, even if it was for the benefit of their relationship, drove those doubts deep enough to bleed, to flood, and to choke. Edmund worried that anyone could take Oliver from him. It was a masochistic fault in his character. But alone, in the ossuary-quiet of the study, Edmund all but forgot about it.

Edmund chuckled and turned into Oliver's touch, kissing his palm. "You've no idea." Though he was certain Oliver did, had to. One would have to be heartless to not feel the intensity between them. "My preoccupation with you borders on obscene, only chastened by your touch." He closed his eyes to rest his forehead against Oliver's. "Have mercy, would you."

An hour. So limited and likely to draw suspicion. But Edmund would take what he could get at any risk. There was nothing in the world worth more than the time he shared with Oliver.
 
God, with those words alone Oliver could tell just how much Edmund loved him. If his actions weren't enough, his words did more than fill in the gaps and connect the dots as to what he felt. While Oliver only once doubted their relationship, never more did he dwell on the idea that maybe Edmund deserved better or he himself deserved more. But those thoughts, he knew, were worthless to think about. He already sacrificed a lot, did as much as he could to prevent any controversy and suspicion, so he at least proved to himself that he was willing to be commited, and that if he did all of that for someone who treated him better than any other, he knows he doesn't deserve any less.

"What a poet you are," He teased, a soft laugh accompanying his words. "Though if I shall give you mercy, we will just have to see. It'd be quite enjoyable for me to tease you." He pressed a kiss to his nose, light and gentle. The simple affectionate touches were welcome and just as damn nice as he remembered it feeling. He was glad he wouldn't have to feign this kind of touch and love around Geneva, seeing as her heart was sealed to another as well, leaving no room for another love inside her. It would make his life easier. It would just have to be acting for the crowd and whatever happened behind closed doors was up to them.

"Did you chose this study for the mere privacy of it, or something else?" He asked, curious.
 
Edmund scoffed. Poetic. That was perhaps the last epithet anyone would think to ascribe to him or anything he'd ever put to word. But metaphor was the only means he had to express what was otherwise ineffable.

"Haven't you enough power over me without me on my knees?" Edmund asked, his eyes opening marginally. Smoke and longing, a prelude to fire. "Though, if that's what you want of me, you only need to ask. I'll genuflect at your alter, my heart offered in oblation." His hands trailed down Oliver's sides, resting just below the width of his hip. Subtle suggestion. Tacit invitation. "You are both judge and jury in this court of devotion. If my desires to vitiate your hallowed fane are not found venial, then by all means, you have the power to deny me heaven." He kissed Oliver's cheek but couldn't maintain a serious composure.

Edmund dropped his head onto Oliver's shoulder and laughed at himself. Such grandiloquent words, profane use of holy symbols. If the staff could hear him now, there'd be no end of their jeering. But he couldn't deny that what he felt for Oliver was profound enough to be religious. He'd never felt anything so strongly in his life. Not fear, or grief, or hate. All paled when juxtaposed to his affection for Oliver.

With a sigh, Edmund enlightened Oliver to the room's duel nature. "I led us here mostly because it's private, but the bookshelf in the back left corner, the bottom half of it swings free to reveal a passage leading down to the wine cellar. Whatever relative of yours used this study seemed to find inspiration in libation. I figure it would make a decent exit if necessary."
 
Oliver couldn't help but let out a laugh as well at his words. It was silly, coming from him. But even if the nature of his words was out of place for a man like Edmund, he still found truth in them. If Edmund weren't so comfortable in saying such out of character statements with metaphors of religion and holy symbols, then perhaps they weren't close. Another reminder of his everlasting adoration.

"Hmm... Might be risky to take up on the offer. You would be a nice sight, down on your knees, showing your true devotion." He gingerly dragged his fingers along his jawline, moving just a tad bit closer to him. Any closer, and their bodies would be pressed right up against each other. "I'm sure you wouldn't reject the request to do so, though. Not with those words,"

He smiled at the hidden nature of this particular study. No wonder he didn't know about it -- his father or another relative kept it hidden for their own benefit. And now it was in his hands to be used as he pleased. Wonderful. "I don't think it'd do us much good to have some wine before the party. Limited time, and it'd be a bad idea to show up tipsy already. Though," His eyes flickered over to the bookshelf in question, "I'd like to use it later."
 
Oliver's suggestion made Edmund's body sing with desire, trilling and intense. If teasing was his intent, then Oliver could claim more than success in doing so. He could claim whatever he wanted. With their time fleeting and the engagement poised like a guillotine over Edmund's head, he was willing to give anything in that moment.

"There will always be risk." He countered, daring to pull Oliver against himself. There were too many layers between them for Edmund's liking, but he didn't dare shed them. He raised his head and spoke softly beside Oliver's ear. "If you truly want this, I can make it happen here and now." Because maybe it was better to cross that line in the heat of the moment. Quick, desperate and needing. Carried by impulse without time to worry about appearances or skill. No wading or acclimating, just a plunge into the deep.

Unless Oliver was too nervous. Fear of being discovered was a thrill to some, but for others it was the very opposite of a philter, killing any arousal. Exhibitionism, or even potential exhibitionism, wasn't in Edmund's preferences. Too possessive to share even a glimpse. But he felt that the odds of them being discovered were slim, and thus fear didn't deter him. Everyone was busy with the party, prepping and maintaining appearances. Who would dare to seek privacy in such a time?

Except them, of course.
 
Oliver bit his lip, thinking. It was one thing to tease, to toy with ideas that could lead somewhere. There was a clear, building desire between the two of them, growing in size and abundant between them, ever since that time on the ship. It multiplied in due part of the preparations of the party, how taxing and dividing it made them both. Oliver wanted Edmund. He never knew what was the right time, to act upon his desires and when Edmund would act upon his as well. Right here, right now, it was happening. At the thought of the required consummation he'd have to partake after the wedding, he felt he needed Edmund now more than ever.

"Then do it," He replied, giving a playful nip to his jaw before kissing over the small mark. "If you wish to give, I am more than willing to receive. I've become so needy without you recently." He aligned his face with Edmund's, looking him in the eyes. "Poetic words have no meaning unless theres action and reason behind them, Edmund."

He couldn't deny the nervous spark settling at the bottom of his stomach. But he knew he trusted Edmund. If anything were to go awry, if Oliver was truly not ready, or any other reason were to arise, he knew Edmund would be able to notice it and would not hesitate to end it all for the better. He loved him for that, his perception, for it knew what Oliver sometimes didn't realize.
 
That moment alone, that stolen hour away from eyes and obligation, had turned into something Edmund could have never expected. After what they had discussed on the ship, about taking it slow, this, this was- Edmund tried to keep his breathing steady, normal. He wasn't even going to be the one getting off, but still he wanted this with a desire that bordered on need. This wasn't like the prurience of his youth. It was a genuine longing to see and satisfy Oliver in a moment of intimacy and vulnerability.

"Are you certain?" Edmund asked gently, breathy. For all the heat and desire between them, he could still reign it back. For Oliver's sake. He kissed the corner of Oliver's lips. "Is this what you want?" And Edmund dared the first touch beyond eager and innocent kisses. He slid a hand between the meeting of their hips to palm Oliver. Teasing askance, firm but not jarring. Testing the waters.

Edmund was willing to make good on every word, to prove they weren't hollow of meaning. He'd push Oliver into the desk chair, kneel in the dust and gloom, satisfy him in more than service. But they could always wait until later that night, or even after. Edmund just wanted to hear an unequivocal answer. "Yes or no?"
 
This wasn't the fantasy Oliver had imagined many times over after what happened on the ship -- it wasn't slow, deliberate, romantic, complete with candles lit every where, wine accessible and rose pettles scattered all over the floor. It was possibly the least romantic place, a private area closed off for two desperate lovers needy and wanting of any and all touch from the other. It wasn't his dream or fantasy to have such deep intimacy with Edmund in a dusty old study but god did he want it. He could care less at this point the details of it all, he just wanted it so bad.

Oliver's breath turned slightly shallower, breathy and airy. A soft gasp escaped his lips when Edmund's hand dared to palm him. He knew it was for his better that Edmund asked for confirmation, kept his touches lighter and kept them far from where he wanted, but it was teasing him beyond belief. This had been building for an eternity, and he wanted it now.

"Fuck, yes."
 
Edmund couldn't recall ever applying himself with such alacrity as he did then. The air swelled between them, sticky and cloying, thick as cake and just as sweet. The tenderness with which he usually touched Oliver was all but swallowed in haste and desire. Desperate-rough attenuated by stroking palms and caressing lips, a heavy foreplay by which Edmund coaxed Oliver to the edge before shoving him into the desk chair and sinking between his knees. There, in the tenebrous study, the world beyond it all but forgotten, he brought Oliver off.

Dust on their clothes, spit on Edmund's chin, dead skin on his lip from the sear of their kiss. Need was never pretty, but in satisfying it they gained more than physical relief. The knot that held them drew tighter, another boundary crossed and survived, their bond that much deeper. When their clothes were tucked and tidied to the best of their ability, and any evidence of their encounter effaced, Edmund pulled Oliver into a slow, affectionate, and thankful kiss.

"You've certainly given me something to distract myself with during the party." he joked lightly, as it was partially true. It was hard to see Geneva as a threat after such intimacy. "And you're lucky dust isn't as apparent on spring colors. I'm sure once we step out into the light of day I'll see that my shins are still smudged with it." And that his face was still flushed from what he'd done. It was a color only see on him in winter, cold and wind-burnt. Now just for Oliver.
 
The promise of his personal fantasies and the thoughts on his mind could compare none to the vibrancy of the desire that was between them in that moment. It was not the romantic, candle-lit setting he had imaged so many times before in his chambers alone, but it was better. It was real, it was wonderful, and it was better than any vivid imagery his mind could conjure up on desperate lonely nights.

The slow kiss is what grounded Oliver back from his high, one that Edmund was able to milk from him. His breathing slowed, calmed, and he let out a soft, long sigh, looking at the red-dusted face of Edmund. He looked beautiful, though debauched from the events that just occurred but still so gorgeous. "God.. you look ... beautiful," He mumbled, his words tumbling from his mouth without thought. His eyes met Edmund's.

"Just change your pants. Or if you don't care to show off this look, feel free to strut off with it," He replied, placing a sloppy kiss to the corner of his lips. "I don't know how I'm going to survive the party... not with memories of what you did still so fresh within my mind. Gives me perhaps something to look forward to later in my chambers,"
 
Beautiful? Was that a step up from handsome on the scale of human pulchritude, or sideways? Or down? Wherever, it was still far above the usual epithets Edmund heard in relation to his appearance. Even homely was a compliment compared to the debasing and emasculating pejoratives he'd heard when frequenting bars. And though it may have been rose-tinted by their activities, Oliver's uncensored compliment made Edmund smile, a little incredulous but deeply flattered all the same.

"You should save such blandishments for your guests." Edmund reproved teasingly as he adjusted Oliver's cravat. He probably would change his clothes when they parted. A slovenly servant wasn't fit for a king, and Edmund would rather keep their encounter just between them. No intimations suggesting anything beyond proper conduct. This would be there's to think of alone. No one else's.

"I'd offer advice, but I like the idea of you preoccupied with thoughts of me." He smiled mischievously, pressing close enough to kiss but withholding. Feather-light an teasing. "I'm sure you could persuade me into giving an encore performance tonight. Or something more." Though what more was, Edmund couldn't say, and that wasn't for lack of imagination. Edmund didn't know how comfortable Oliver would be with anything further, much less in a different setting, tone, and post party. He would have loved Oliver to reciprocate what was just done, but there were still many variables at play.

"Best we not dally any longer."
 
Of course, Edmund would be leaving him with even more food for thought, now fuelled by the real memories the two of them had created. However, the thought of having to drift apart and maintain professional behavior for the sake of appearances made Oliver disappointed that things had to end so soon. He knew they only had an hour for anything they wished in the dusty old study, but it felt much too short now. He wished he could have another hour, but that would have to be saved for later tonight.

"You're a painful tease, Edmund." He said with a smile, sliding off the desk top. Oliver already had plans to change out of his current attire -- you weren't a royal unless you changed your outfit several times for different occasions. He was tempted to invite Edmund along, so the two of them could dress together for the party before going their seperate ways, but they would perhaps end up wasting quite a bit of time.

"Then let us be on our way. I'm sure my dust-covered butt is a very urgent matter," He replied, wiping off as much dust as he could before he and Edmund departed from the room.
 
Careful so as to make sure no one was around to see, Edmund kissed Oliver's knuckles before they parted and briskly left for his private quarters. It was still something novel to him, a place to call his own, privacy. In the safety of its solitude, Edmund couldn't help but smile in memory of what had just happened. It had been heated, impulsive, and rushed, but natural. No presentiments or staging, just raw need. For all his worry of failing Oliver's expectations, it had happened without hitch.

The only negative of their encounter was that Edmund was still fighting down his own unchecked arousal. Fuck. It would fade. He kept telling himself it would, wiling the heat from his body. He just needed a moment to catch his breath and mentally run through the night's events. The other guests would be arriving. Notable nobles, decorated generals, but mostly people of culture. Philosophy, arts and sciences, schools of interest that were still in the throws of a renaissance since the end of the war. They were meant to give Lady Geneva a taste of what the country had to offer. The event was more of a colloquy or salon than a party.

Edmund exhaled deeply. It was only just beginning. He changed his clothes into something sharper. Cleaner lines, a colored vest. Still a surly, dour servant, but more respectable and reflecting of his status among the staff. After tightening his ascot and pulling on gloves, he left to return to Oliver's side. Mingling was in order, and god did Edmund loathe it.
 
The memories of what had occurred unsurprisingly kept replaying in his mind in a dizzying loop. It took almost all of his effort to keep from getting so distracted that he dallied too much while dressing himself in a new attire for the night. He was glad he had the mind earlier today to lay out his outfit for the night, crisp and fresh upon his bedsheets. His mind kept slipping off elsewhere while buttoning up his over coat, however, his mind imagining Edmund pulling the buttons apart and sinking down to his knees once more.

He pulled himself together as best he could in the little time he had to himself previous to the party's beginning. He hopes that his focus doesn't divert during the festivities and he makes a fool of himself. Geneva is supposed to be impressed, welcome, and spoiled at this party and he had to play up their feigned romance as well. He couldn't be thinking of the promiscuous behavior he had barely half an hour prior.

He met with Edmund after cleaning himself up and changing attire. It was hard for him to not pull him into a searing kiss that would rush into something deep and carnal. He kept his hands clasped tightly behind him. "You cleaned up nicely," He commented with a small smile. "Long night ahead of us."
 
"Speak for yourself." Edmund exchanged in greeting. He feigned straightening the lapels of Oliver's overcoat before adding quietly with a sly grin. "I'm looking forward to taking this off of you." Like spreading the velvet-soft petals of a flower to indulge in its nectar, Edmund enjoyed the reveal as much as the taste. The state between civil dress and nudity was one of Edmund's pleasures, and Oliver wore dishabille and dishevelment well.

"Guests are arriving and will be announced soon." He explained. "I'll likely be spending the first part of the party tending to things, keeping order while you mingle. I'll probably run into Theo." The thought visibly vexed him, a crease forming between his brows. "But, you've my word," Whatever that was worth, "That I won't turn your finely detailed party into a barroom brawl." Edmund smiled, hoping the gesture attenuated any doubts Oliver may have had.

"Will you be making the proposal at dinner, during the toast? Or during the dancing that is to wrap the evening up?" There had been vacillation over the matter, and by now he couldn't recall which was decided upon, if one even was. Some thought it best that Oliver keep the choice to himself, maintain an element of surprise. But was it really a surprise if everyone knew it was going to happen at one time or another?
 
Edmund's sly tongue was more than torture at this point, and would Oliver have been not a man of royal status, nothing would've stopped him from having his overcoat shed and forgotten immediately. He rolled his eyes instead. "Nice to know your teasings get more and more riling as time passes. You better keep your promise tonight, Edmund."

Oliver was pleased that Edmund remembered and brought up the request he had made earlier, and would, at least, try and to uphold his promise. Though, he knew that Edmund would be able to leash himself, to keep his dignity and Oliver's as one whole peace for at least this night. It was pivotal to Oliver and his relationship with the nobles, as well as how they will take to Geneva. "If Theo becomes too much, do escape to the balconies as you see fit and I'll try and meet you there."

It was a bit surprising to hear about the proposal. It almost slipped Oliver's mind; the planner he had hounded him over the littlest of things, especially the color palette, and yet allowed Oliver to choose the best moment for the proposal. Thanks to the lack of hounding to that detail, Oliver didn't really make his mind up on the matter. "Hm.. I think during dinner would be best. To really sell the romance, we'll dance the night away. Sounds good, no?"
 
Was that a hollow threat, a dare, an eager expectation? Edmund didn't know, but was looking forward to finding out later on that night. Winding Oliver a little tighter certainly couldn't hurt, no? Knowing that there was now an outlet for carnal desire, narrow though it was, Edmund delighted all the more in riling Oliver.

"I'd never knowingly renege, it's just that some promises slip my mind." Edmund lilted in jest. "You might have to jog my memory." He began walking towards the grand hall, checking to make sure Oliver was at his heels if not coming up beside him. "I've a feeling Theo resembles a dog in more than her loyalty and tenacity. She can probably track as well as any bloodhound, but I'm sure she's yet to meet a fox of my caliber, on my own turf no less. You needn't worry, I'll be quite all right."

As much as Edmund would have loved a fleeting encounter with Oliver during the party, it was better not to risk such. A host couldn't slink off during their own party. It would be criminally rude. And after their unexpected intimacy in the study, Edmund felt he was more prepared to weather the evenings events, his jealousy placated by Oliver's passions. "I'd agree, proposal during dinner would be best. Everyone can then find time to give you their sentiments and regards. And they can gawk of Geneva's engagement ring." Absently, Edmund itched his ring finger in memory of Oliver' signet.
 
Oliver kept stride with Edmund, easily catching up to him as they made their way toward the grand hall. There was no doubt in Oliver's mind that there was already a mass of his guests already there, early and waiting for their host to arrive. He nearly forgot he had to escort Geneva into the party as well.

"Not a day passes until you speak highly of yourself. At least you are unlike nobles in that respect -- your words typically ring true, though that can't be said about most at court." Oliver quickly glanced down the hall, scanning for any eyes on them before placing a quick kiss to Edmund's cheek, a smile upon his face. "One of your finer qualities."

"Speaking of jewelery, I hope you still have the ones I gave you. I haven't seen them on you in a while," Oliver commented, though it was obvious why. If Edmund openly displayed the gifts he'd be accused of theft openly and expected to be punished. It would do no one any good for Oliver to admit that he gave them to a known clever and selfish man. Best kept hidden and away from prying eyes. Oliver glanced down the hall again, and saw Geneva and Theo coming down, engaged in a conversation much like they were. "Seems we must cut the talk short. I have to escort Geneva in,"
 
Much of Edmund's boasting was done in jest, exaggerated for effect, but Oliver wasn't wrong. Despite verbal embellishments, the skills Edmund brandished could often support the weight of his claims. Most of it at least. Most of the time. Affectations were occasionally needed to avoid being a target in seedier locals, or among the guards. The belief that 'might made right' still persisted among some, often under the guise of masculinity.

It was a true test of will not to reciprocate Oliver's kiss and pull him into something deeper. Edmund was tempted, could feel heat trickling back into his body, but managed to forbear. "I still wear the necklace." He assured. "And if you like, I'll make sure it's the only thing I'm wearing later tonight" Edmund's smiled diminished though as he followed Oliver's line of sight. Geneva and Theo, a sign that it was time he and Oliver went heir ways.

"I suppose it's time you made your appearance, and I check in with the staff." Edmund wanted to kiss Oliver goodbye, wanted Geneva to see it, but there were other servants at the end of the hall now, likely looking for Oliver. He refrained. "I'll be checking in with you from time to time. Perhaps I can catch you between dances." he offered Oliver a tight, though reassuring smile. Their parting felt lacking without touch, but Edmund knew they'd make up for that later on. It was time they got the night underway.
 
The brief goodbyes he and Edmund shared felt lacking and empty, and came as no surprise to disappoint Oliver. He had to remind himself that it was for his image, and it would have to be like this for a lot of their lives now. Empty, touchless partings for the sake of appearances and keeping up the façade that they created for their own protection.

He gave Theo a short nod in greeting, before linking his arm with Geneva and heading out into the grand hall, unsurprisingly already filled with the many and numerous esteemed guests invited to come. Many Oliver had already met and conversed with at least once for one reason or another, as they were mostly of his kingdom's finest and best or shared alliances with his country. He stayed by Geneva's side, introducing her to anyone he believed she would enjoy the company of and did his best to avoid any particular trouble makers. Occasionally his eyes would roam the room, trying to spot Edmund in the crowd, but most of his attempts failed. It was much too congested, and Edmund was perhaps busy anyways.

Eventually, the short reception part of the wedding where introductions, arrivals and simple mingling took place was migrated to the grand dining hall in the next room over, already immaculately arranged with food, plates and cutlery. He and Geneva sat next across from each other, not able to converse without yelling but could at least send looks of pity when things turned sour in a conversation. Before the dinner could begin, Oliver stood up from his seat, gathering the attention of everyone already seated at the table.

He gave a short, mostly feigned speech about his meeting and experiences with Geneva. He elaborated heavily and embellished a lot of the facts, stretching the truth into an overly sugared story that he knew most of the nobles at the party would eat up. He made sure to keep his eyes mostly set onto Geneva, a loving smile on his face as he spoke his words. When he finally explicitly stated the engagement, an eruption of applause commenced, and he made his way to Geneva, falling to one knee and slipping on a heavily decorated engagement ring, entirely for show. To add to the 'love struck' effect, he placed a light, feather kiss to the back of her hand.

From then on, there continued to be no more hitch. Dinner went by smoothly, everyone buzzing with the already known news of Oliver and Geneva's engagement to one another, words about how sweet it was that they met at a wedding, inspired by another love to marry themselves. It twisted Oliver's gut in displeasure that the nobles couldn't gossip so giddly and positively about his relationship with Edmund. How he cannot embellish their meeting story, how he cannot publicly declare his love and place an overly expensive ring onto his finger. He did his best to prevent his mood from going sour.

Once ushered back to the grand ball room for the final dancing of the night, Oliver spent most his time with Geneva, to sell the love-struck appeal they started and had to maintain, and because he was growing exhausted of all the social activities. His mind kept wandering back to Edmund, of the study they were at hours and hours ago, of fantasies of a life they could've had if things were different. He and Geneva ended up speaking much about this shared feeling, of how much it damn well sucked, but also that at least it worked out somewhat in the end. Oliver's eyes roamed the crowd again, in habit, and he spotted Edmund for the first time that night. He send him a bright smile, glad to see him.
 
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