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Laurent, Damen had found, only liked the sunshine in small doses. He tolerated it when Damen dragged him outside to settle under the sun in Akielos, but was more used to the climate in Vere where the sunshine was much less harsh. More than a few hours outside, and he complained.
Laurent was an impossible man, and Damen adored him.
Today, they were laying down under the sun as was customary. Laurent wasn’t complaining for once—eyes closed and breathing even, having fallen asleep with his head on Damen’s lap. He ran a hand through Laurent’s hair, affection drawing tight across his chest that he could scarcely breathe with it. Laurent always brought out this feeling in him, as if he would spend every lifetime going to war for this man.
“Exalted,” he heard a servant’s voice say, and nearly groaned at the prospect of dealing with his duties quite so soon, and just when Laurent had come from Vere. Instead, when he looked up, it was to a plateful of cut up mangoes being laid down next to the other snacks they’d been provided with. At Damen’s questioning look, the servant smiled, and said: “We received a new shipment about a half hour ago. The cook thought Exalted would appreciate it.”
Damen thanked him and bade him to leave, considering the sleeping face on his lap. Laurent looked… softer like this, his sharp edges nowhere to be seen and lips curved as if he was having a particularly good dream. Damen was loath to wake him up, but—
“Laurent.”
The words were gentle, but felt heady on his lips, that he could address Laurent so familiarly and he would welcome it. Laurent stirred, slowly, sitting up with a yawn and stretching as he did. “There better be a good reason you woke me up. I was having a wonderful dream.”
“Was I in it?” Damen asked automatically, his question not at all serious but feeling a flutter in his heart as Laurent only blushed. “I was in it!”
“Don’t flatter yourself. It’s not like—what’s that?”
Damen smiled. His hunch was right. “They’re called mangoes—they only grow in more tropical climates, I’m afraid. Try it.”
Laurent was already reaching out, gazing at the cut up fruit curiously before putting it in his mouth with wary curiosity. It was gratifying to see the change in his face—the wariness giving way to delight as he sampled one then immediately reached for another, releasing an appreciative moan that made Damen laugh and kiss him on the lips, gentle and slow. They had time to deepen it if they wanted. In the midmorning sun, Damen’s lips on Laurent’s and tasting the sweetness of mangoes on his tongue—Damen couldn’t think of a time when he’d felt more content.
Laurent was one who drew back to reach out for another piece of mango. “I’m willing to admit tropical climates aren’t entirely too bad,” he said, and Damen laughed and laughed and laughed.