Lightly, now, Kris introduced his tongue, flicking the tip of it at marks on Harry’s fingers, kissing down into the palm and over the heel of the hand. He bit at the base of the thumb before tucking Harry’s hand up against his face and mirroring the position himself. More kisses, then, to the edges of Harry’s mouth, along his jawline, Kris snubbing his nose up behind Harry’s ear. “Tell me what you want,” he murmured.
Henry had a reason to tense at Kris’ kisses, sweet and short were they; he let a slow breath from his lungs. He stole a simple and chaste kiss from Kris’ lips, bringing his head low as he looked to his side. He didn’t know what he wanted; he was always given everything he thought people thought he needed. The prince bit his lip, making a soft groan as he buried his face at the crook of the other’s neck.
Softly Kris stroked Harry’s hair. He let his own breath out in a slow exhale, shoulders slumping. He clearly had to give over his own hopes, because Harry wasn’t responding in any familiar way. And he couldn’t permit himself to just take. “Shhh, Hal, Harry, Henry, shhh.”
Hal had quieted by his words, though he still had only one question he kept in mind. He gently kissed Kris’ neck where he can reach without moving too much, giving into moving freely inch by inch.
“Tell me again. Why must you leave?” he asked quietly, though he hesitated to ask.
“Because this is not my true form,” Kris whispered. “Because after this night, I am a lady, and under the rule of my father, who is unlike to allow me any freedoms. Because,” he sighed, “this is like unto a dream, which fades away with the dawn. You would not wish my true self, prince.”
Lightly, now, Kris introduced his tongue, flicking the tip of it at marks on Harry’s fingers, kissing down into the palm and over the heel of the hand. He bit at the base of the thumb before tucking Harry’s hand up against his face and mirroring the position himself. More kisses, then, to the edges of Harry’s mouth, along his jawline, Kris snubbing his nose up behind Harry’s ear. “Tell me what you want,” he murmured.
Henry had a reason to tense at Kris’ kisses, sweet and short were they; he let a slow breath from his lungs. He stole a simple and chaste kiss from Kris’ lips, bringing his head low as he looked to his side. He didn’t know what he wanted; he was always given everything he thought people thought he needed. The prince bit his lip, making a soft groan as he buried his face at the crook of the other’s neck.
Softly Kris stroked Harry’s hair. He let his own breath out in a slow exhale, shoulders slumping. He clearly had to give over his own hopes, because Harry wasn’t responding in any familiar way. And he couldn’t permit himself to just take. “Shhh, Hal, Harry, Henry, shhh.”
Kris ran his thumbs over the back of the prince’s hands, soothing and soft. ‘Don’t push,’ he warned himself. ‘No more pushing.’ He followed Harry’s kiss with a few more, still gentle, still chaste, before lifting one of Harry’s hands to his mouth and kissing his fingertips.
Hal had not rejected as he did so abruptly before, pulling away with much less of a struggled expression as he wore before. He looked down as Kris began to kiss each one of his fingertips, his fingers to twitch only so slightly by the gentle kisses.
Lightly, now, Kris introduced his tongue, flicking the tip of it at marks on Harry’s fingers, kissing down into the palm and over the heel of the hand. He bit at the base of the thumb before tucking Harry’s hand up against his face and mirroring the position himself.
More kisses, then, to the edges of Harry’s mouth, along his jawline, Kris snubbing his nose up behind Harry’s ear. “Tell me what you want,” he murmured.
“Don’t, Harry, don’t … be a … tease,” Kris pleaded, locking green eyes with blue. Twisting his wrists, he grabbed for Harry’s hands, holding tight and pulling.
He raised his head, just letting him hold onto his hands, tensing at just that moment. The prince took a breath to relax himself, giving a small and chaste kiss, still evident that he was struggling a bit with it.
Kris ran his thumbs over the back of the prince’s hands, soothing and soft. ‘Don’t push,’ he warned himself. ‘No more pushing.’ He followed Harry’s kiss with a few more, still gentle, still chaste, before lifting one of Harry’s hands to his mouth and kissing his fingertips.
“And when? You know what I would have, and what would you have of me now? I wished your offense, and you would not. Give truth, and do what you will, Harry; I care no longer. You can hardly offend me more.” Kris looked Harry straight in the eye.
“Then,” Henry sought out words, finding himself having a lack of it, he’d resort to an action though he had not thought it fitting. “I will not offend you, or will I try.” He murmured quietly. Anger was something he had received often, be it his own words that frustrated people or anyone else. He reached out for his hands, kissing his palm gently, but moving from it just a few moments after.
He felt jerked around, utterly confused by the other man’s attitude. Trying to provoke anger brought apologies, trying to be cutting brought … a kiss. The rush of someone’s kiss remained the same, regardless of body, Kris discovered when Harry’s mouth met his hand. Words fled his head, and all he could manage was a strangled groan of Harry’s name.
His words had always brought himself nothing but trouble, he knew that well enough. Even when he had seen nothing wrong with his deeds, he could not see anywhere where his words or doings were ultimately flawed. Henry had always seemed to be clouded with some sort of predicament here and there; big and small, his eyes flickered up to the sound of his name groaned out.
“Don’t, Harry, don’t … be a … tease,” Kris pleaded, locking green eyes with blue. Twisting his wrists, he grabbed for Harry’s hands, holding tight and pulling.
“And when? You know what I would have, and what would you have of me now? I wished your offense, and you would not. Give truth, and do what you will, Harry; I care no longer. You can hardly offend me more.” Kris looked Harry straight in the eye.
“Then,” Henry sought out words, finding himself having a lack of it, he’d resort to an action though he had not thought it fitting. “I will not offend you, or will I try.” He murmured quietly. Anger was something he had received often, be it his own words that frustrated people or anyone else. He reached out for his hands, kissing his palm gently, but moving from it just a few moments after.
He felt jerked around, utterly confused by the other man’s attitude. Trying to provoke anger brought apologies, trying to be cutting brought … a kiss. The rush of someone’s kiss remained the same, regardless of body, Kris discovered when Harry’s mouth met his hand. Words fled his head, and all he could manage was a strangled groan of Harry’s name.
“I live very far from here, very far indeed, and I must set out tomorrow for home. There is no escaping it. I’ve only this one night. Even if a way to stay were found, I’d not be able to see you again. Not ever. You of all people must understand inescapable rules.” Kris pulled at his hair, frustrated. If only he could tell Harry the truth!
For a strange reason, the only thing that had occurred to pop into the prince’s mind was ‘Asgard’. The strangest of places but the only one that had come to mind was that one. “Yea, I understand, but why?” Hal asked rather recklessly, always one to want some answers, or at least not to be left on a hanging edge.
‘Oh, for fuck’s sake!’ Kris clenched his jaw. Fine. Harry wanted answers? Fine, he could have them. “Remember that you asked,” Kris hissed. “Nothing you know of me is truth, Hal. This isn’t even my real appearance. I’m under a spell that turns me male for twenty-four hours, my real name is Summer Rainault, I come from a manor near Dover. My father holds his lands of yours.”
Kris flung himself down against the turf, angry. “And now thou wilt dismiss me thy presence for that I have lied to thee.”
Hal stood up quickly to reach him, Summer, was it? His naive states he obviously knew angered her, some questions faded from his mind. “Summer, nay, twas not thine faults to lie..” He worded carefully, perhaps it was the grayface he had only seen once before. “I should be one for apologies, but if you wish, you may leave.”
“You’re not angry with me? I spent the last hour coming on to you under the falsest of false pretenses, confessed all my lies and challenged your authority, and you’re offering apologies to me.” Kris tangled his hands in his hair and yanked on it. “By’r Lady, Hal,” he groaned, “it’s as if you want me to be in love with you! You amaze me, truly told.”
Henry offered a smile, being used to having an appearance of a liar, or being lied to by one of the big belted of men. “I’ll so offend to make offense a skill, redeeming time when men think least I will..” He replied quietly, his eyes flickering up to him. “May I not?” He asked a little more shortly.
“And when? You know what I would have, and what would you have of me now? I wished your offense, and you would not. Give truth, and do what you will, Harry; I care no longer. You can hardly offend me more.” Kris looked Harry straight in the eye.
“I live very far from here, very far indeed, and I must set out tomorrow for home. There is no escaping it. I’ve only this one night. Even if a way to stay were found, I’d not be able to see you again. Not ever. You of all people must understand inescapable rules.” Kris pulled at his hair, frustrated. If only he could tell Harry the truth!
For a strange reason, the only thing that had occurred to pop into the prince’s mind was ‘Asgard’. The strangest of places but the only one that had come to mind was that one. “Yea, I understand, but why?” Hal asked rather recklessly, always one to want some answers, or at least not to be left on a hanging edge.
‘Oh, for fuck’s sake!’ Kris clenched his jaw. Fine. Harry wanted answers? Fine, he could have them. “Remember that you asked,” Kris hissed. “Nothing you know of me is truth, Hal. This isn’t even my real appearance. I’m under a spell that turns me male for twenty-four hours, my real name is Summer Rainault, I come from a manor near Dover. My father holds his lands of yours.”
Kris flung himself down against the turf, angry. “And now thou wilt dismiss me thy presence for that I have lied to thee.”
Hal stood up quickly to reach him, Summer, was it? His naive states he obviously knew angered her, some questions faded from his mind. “Summer, nay, twas not thine faults to lie..” He worded carefully, perhaps it was the grayface he had only seen once before. “I should be one for apologies, but if you wish, you may leave.”
“You’re not angry with me? I spent the last hour coming on to you under the falsest of false pretenses, confessed all my lies and challenged your authority, and you’re offering apologies to me.” Kris tangled his hands in his hair and yanked on it. “By’r Lady, Hal,” he groaned, “it’s as if you want me to be in love with you! You amaze me, truly told.”
“I live very far from here, very far indeed, and I must set out tomorrow for home. There is no escaping it. I’ve only this one night. Even if a way to stay were found, I’d not be able to see you again. Not ever. You of all people must understand inescapable rules.” Kris pulled at his hair, frustrated. If only he could tell Harry the truth!
For a strange reason, the only thing that had occurred to pop into the prince’s mind was ‘Asgard’. The strangest of places but the only one that had come to mind was that one. “Yea, I understand, but why?” Hal asked rather recklessly, always one to want some answers, or at least not to be left on a hanging edge.
‘Oh, for fuck’s sake!’ Kris clenched his jaw. Fine. Harry wanted answers? Fine, he could have them. “Remember that you asked,” Kris hissed. “Nothing you know of me is truth, Hal. This isn’t even my real appearance. I’m under a spell that turns me male for twenty-four hours, my real name is Summer Rainault, I come from a manor near Dover. My father holds his lands of yours.”
Kris flung himself down against the turf, angry. “And now thou wilt dismiss me thy presence for that I have lied to thee.”
“Harry.” Kris spoke softly, moderating his tone. “Hal. You’re hurting me. This isn’t supposed to be about pain. Why are you afraid?”
He shook his head, keeping Kris’ hands in his, lowering his head in confusion. “I do not know, I have told you this. I am lost, I am sure you can see that clearly enough..” Henry frowned, gritting his teeth at the annoyance of not being able just to make one decision of his own without thinking of something proper.
Harry’s tangled emotions were driving Kris mad. If this was the twelfth century, he wanted none of it — save this one piece, for just a tiny slice of time. Losing patience, he locked his own fingers in with Harry’s and pulled until they were practically nose-to-nose. “Your worries were fewer amongst the tavern folk, who are lower by far to you than I ever could be. So just shut up.”
Just to make sure Harry did, Kris kissed him.
Henry looked forward onto Kris, in mind he knew that he was perhaps just stalling himself from making any decision at all. One night, this century; he was sure Kris had hated it. He felt the other’s lips crash forward to meet his own, wanting to move back though he pressed slightly forward against it, but only breaking it for air that he stopped.
“Please, highness,” Kris whispered, closing his eyes. “You’re the only sweet thing I’ve found here, the only thing worth remembering when I leave.” Compelled, he kissed Harry again, trying to plead with it.
Had Henry been not so sudden before, though the changes that started to accumulate as well as problems had hindered him from anything else for him to think differently from responsibility. “Why must you leave?” The prince asked, moving away slightly so he may talk a bit over than just whispering.
“I live very far from here, very far indeed, and I must set out tomorrow for home. There is no escaping it. I’ve only this one night. Even if a way to stay were found, I’d not be able to see you again. Not ever. You of all people must understand inescapable rules.” Kris pulled at his hair, frustrated. If only he could tell Harry the truth!