palace_will: (You and Me)
[personal profile] palace_will
.






It was done. Marton closed the door to his bedroom behind him and leaned on the door for a moment, head back, eyes closed. He drew in a lungful of air. Was there anything he’d missed? The police were gone, as was the body. Palace-Proper was now as pristine as it had been this morning. Only it wasn’t, was it. And Harry and Will hadn’t yet come back up from the basement, so that meant . . .

He heaved himself off the door and walked across to the bed, shedding his jacket as he went. Sitting down on the covers, he pulled off his shoes and socks and tossed his tie across the room and onto the chair in the corner. He was so tired. Let’s see, he thought, as he wiped a hand across his face.

Christian’s fine. Anna and Orlando were safe back in their rooms. The palace was still on partial lock-down, but he’d leave that till morning and the elite guards were supplementing the usual security overnight. Vin was stationed outside his door, Lawrence would remain at the Gatehouse and Sala had the lift. Orlando and Anna’s personal guards were in place as well. No, that was it. All that could be done tonight, had been done.

He began to unbutton his shirt, fingers pausing on the last button. Catherine!

Sighing, Marton reached for his com and his other hand came up to punch the call through. But he couldn’t see the buttons, his vision was blurring for some reason. A sob escaped his throat, taking him by surprise, and he dropped the com as he slid down off the side of the bed onto the carpet, knees drawn up and his hands in his hair as fresh sob broke free and then another, following the first.






Will peered around the corner and saw Vin at his post. He smiled when the big man looked up at his approach, running his fingers through his hair in a weary gesture. “Hell of a night.” he said softly by way of greeting.

“Yeah.”

The entire floor was silent, seemed hushed and Will was reluctant to raise his voice and disturb the strange atmosphere. Looked as if everyone had gone while he was downstairs waiting, the business of death taken care of and the emergency over. “He told Harry and me to come back up.” Will said to Vin, tilting his head toward Marton’s door. “But Harry’s been delayed. Okay to go in?”

Vin nodded. He remembered His Highness giving the order. “He’s just gone inside.” he replied. “Should be okay.”

Will smiled briefly and slipped past Vin, opening the door after giving the softest of knocks. He figured Marton had had enough to deal with tonight, he’d be quiet and quick and . . .





“Hey.” Will closed the door behind him and hurried across the room to kneel by Marton’s side. He could see the tears and the rapid rise and fall of his chest and so he sat beside him and without another thought, pulled the older man into the circle of his arms.

Marton buried his face in Will’s shoulder and a fresh bout of sobbing shook him. He clutched at Will, fingers grasping for his shoulder and holding on as he folded into the embrace. Will held on tight, the hand in Marton’s hair at his nape stroking gently and his lips pressed to the dark curls, murmuring soft, idiotic reassurances. Time passed, he didn’t know or care how much. Vin opened the door, looked inside and then closed it again. He pressed a kiss to the top of Marton’s head. “S’allright. C’mon now. Gonna be all right.” he repeated over and over, sliding his fingers through the hair at Marton’s temple. Marton shook his head, too lost in misery to care about being ‘strong’. “Shouldn’t have left him.” he muttered, angry with himself. “Known, should have known!”

And that was an utter piece of nonsense if ever Will had heard one. But there was no merit in starting an argument about it now. Marton needed comfort not more confrontation and he surely had more common sense than to truly believe the rubbish he was beating himself up with right now! Marton sucked in a breath and Will took the opportunity to shift his weight a little, saying gently, “Come on. Let’s get comfy, shall we?”

Within a few minutes, he had Marton undressed, tucked up and resting, not under the covers, but warm and cozy beneath the soft, fuzzy blanket that was usually neatly folded at the foot of the bed. He was sniffing, breath coming in soft hiccups and he’d covered his eyes with a folded arm, but he was a lot quieter, calmer. Will sat on the side of the bed, one hand resting atop the blanket on Marton’s stomach. “Get some sleep.” he said softly. He’d not invite embarrassment on Marton’s part by initiating a conversation and he hoped Marton knew it. In Will’s opinion, Marton had earned this and Will could be every bit as discreet as Vin.

Will drew a leg up onto the bed, knee bent and his hand moving in soothing circles. Marton hadn’t spoken, but his breathing was more even, slowing down and his arm slid away from his face, eyes closing. “Rest now.” he whispered, stroking the hand outside the covers. He shifted, preparing to rise and the hand grasped his own, Marton’s voice a whisper made rough by sorrow. “Don’t go. Please.”

“All right. I’m staying.” he soothed. Marton’s eyelids fluttered as Will slid carefully onto the bed and lay beside him, resting his head on his hand. If Marton wanted the security of a warm, human presence while he slept, then he could have one. Will wasn’t bothered at all; this wasn’t about him. Marton shifted, wiggled into comfort and subsided into sleep and Will stayed awake for a long time, quietly watching until his own eyes grew heavy and slowly closed.





When Marton woke, it was still mostly dark. He could hear the first of the birds twittering in the trees outside his window and for a while, he was content to lie still while he woke up properly. The slow remembering of last night’s events washed over him, but he felt curiously detached from it all right now. The bed was far too warm and cozy and he was not prepared to let the full impact hit him just yet.
As awareness became physical as well, he felt the heaviness of an arm around his waist, holding him, and he looked over his shoulder. Will. He smiled, remembering the kindness, the solace offered last night and, careful not to disturb the arm, he rolled over beneath it’s weight.

They were facing one another, lying in their sides and, as Marton pushed a wave of hair back from Will’s face, he wrinkled his nose in response, eyelashes fluttering. Marton’s smile was suffused with affection as he watched but then he shifted and Marton felt Will’s morning erection press, hot and hard through the thin stuff of his trousers, against his leg. At the same time he recognized the fact that he was naked, not only that, but he too was hard, his cock jumping in response to Will’s inadvertent touch.

Will’s eyes fluttered open and recognition slowly dawned as did a sleepy smile. “Hey.” he mumbled.

Marton smiled fondly at the young man who’d taken such good care of him last night. Without thinking he leaned in, his hand coming up to curve against Will’s cheek and kissed his forehead. “Morning.” he murmured.

It was Will who’d held him, helped him to bed and covered him, quietly urging him to sleep, when he could just as easily have left him alone with his thoughts. Thoughts Marton didn’t want to face again just yet. Will muttered something incomprehensible and Marton kissed his cheek, just below the curve of his lashes and then again, at the side of his mouth. It was a natural progression from there to press his lips to Will’s mouth. It was easier not to think, to just be, and when Will’s lips parted in surprise, to slide his tongue across the seam, seeking an invitation.




Will woke to a dream. One where Marton was touching his face and giving him tender kisses. He opened his mouth to speak his name and a slick, warm tongue probed, sliding wetly across his inner cheek. That’s when he realized this was no dream. He was in Marton’s bed, in his arms and . . . It was all coming back to him and, through the haze of the stirring fire in his belly, he knew already how it could easily turn to nightmare.

But that was okay, he thought suddenly as Marton’s hand slid with urgent ease across his stomach. If this was his one shot, his once chance of ever knowing what it felt like to be his, then he’d take it. Marton needed him. Needed the forgetfulness of this, the most simple of acts, and if Will could give him nothing else, he could give him this.

His thighs slipped apart as Marton rolled him onto his back, his mouth greedy and hot, sliding wetly down the side of his throat. Will moaned at the sensation, his hands tangled in the dark curls as Marton’s head came back up and he looked down through lidded eyes, irises dark and full with passion.
For a second, Marton seemed to jerk back into reality and his eyes widened in realization, but Will pulled him down again, hand clutching at his shoulder and slicking his tongue across the full lips, inviting oblivion.



Pure carnal heat, the fire licking at his veins and Marton was consumed. The lithe, strong body beneath him was Will, but the desire was paramount, quashing all other concerns. Blindly, he reached into the cabinet beside the bed, slicking his rigid, aching shaft generously, fingers afterward seeking the opening and pushing inside. He groaned, biting down on the taut nipple beneath his seeking mouth, while fingers carding roughly through his hair sent shivers down his spine. God! Hot and tight and wonderful.
He moved and Will’s long legs wrapped around him as he drove inside, burying himself full length without pause. Arched his back and thrust again, Will’s fingers clutching at his shoulders and leaving patterns of half-moons embroidered on his skin.



Oh Christ, yes! Will had lost himself and there was only this, this act and this man, his brow furrow with effort and the feel of his cock pounding him, scalding his insides, imprinting himself on flesh and bone and memory. The hard prick scraped across his prostate and Will gasped aloud, eyes screwing shut as his hips tilted of their own accord, thighs tightening around Marton’s waist. There was heat and sweat and the outrageous tickle of the soft blanket against his legs, a cocoon surrounding them. Marton’s curls stuck to Will’s forehead as he swooped down to claim Will’s mouth, rhythm never faltering.

“God! Please. Please, yes.” The friction on his cock, trapped between their bellies was more than enough and he gasped for air, muscles locking as he came, scalding and sticky while their stomachs slapped together in a matchless erotic cadence and Marton arching back, then folding toward him, “Ungh.” as he came, his breath moist and warm as he collapsed, heaving for air, onto Will’s chest.

After a while, the ragged rise and fall of his chest evened out and his limbs grew heavy. Will knew he’d gone back to sleep, apparently not minding the sweat and semen binding them. He didn’t mind it either and his was a comfortable weight. Will's hands never ceased their stroking motion through Marton’s hair as he waited for the dawn.



When Marton woke the second time, he was alone. Awareness returned much faster this time and with it memory. He groaned into his pillow. What the fuck have you done now? But he was given no opportunity to think. There was a soft knock on the door and then the sound of it opening.

Marton looked up, pushed himself up onto an elbow and pushed his hair back from his face as Will walked back into the bedroom. Oh God!

But Will’s smile was . . . ordinary, his voice revealing nothing more than in any other greeting on any other day.

“Morning.” he said with a smile. He was carrying a mug which he put down on the bedside table. “Get you started.” he offered by way of explanation, moving a few steps away.

Marton’s face had begun to color and he’d been gnawing on the inside of his lip, but now, in the face of Will’s casual manner, the heat in his cheeks began to subside.

“ . . . to get going, ‘less you need anything done up here?” Will was saying.

Marton shook his head to clear it. Later. “No, I . . .” He stopped for a second, his voice was husky, reminding him of last night’s tears. “No.” he said again in clearer, much more controlled tones. “I think we have it covered.”

Will nodded in agreement. “Okay, then.” he said, strolling toward the door. “Oh.” he added, turning around.

Marton studied his face intently, but could read nothing.

“I checked on Christian this morning.” Will was saying, his hand on the door knob. “And he’s good. Awake, getting up. Little bit . . . flat, but that’s nothing.”

Everything was just . . . normal. Marton felt some of the tension drain from his muscles and felt strong enough to reach out for the fragrant cup of coffee.

“Good.” he answered as he took a sip, sitting up straighter to put the mug back on the dresser. “I’ll check in on him later. Will . . . ?”

“’Kay. See ya!”

Marton’s head shot around but Will was gone, the door just clicking shut.


Profile

palace_will: (Default)
palace_will

August 2005

S M T W T F S
 123456
78910111213
14151617181920
2122232425 2627
28293031   

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jul. 19th, 2025 02:22 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios