“I can feel everyone’s eyes on us,” says Damen, shifting a tad bit uncomfortably against the seat he’s perched on. Above him, Laurent hums noncommittally, not taking his cool blue eyes off of the paper he’s been reading intermittently.
“It doesn’t matter.” He says around a mouthful of fruit, except what comes out is a warbled sound that lights something up in Damen and makes him want to kiss him senseless, eyes and all be damned. “They should see it as a gesture of goodwill. Solidarity, if you will. The kings of two once-rival kingdoms, united for all to see.” He continues, swallowing thickly.
Damen can’t help but follow the line of Laurent’s throat as he does so, aching to mouth along it and mark the graceful white expanse of skin as his own. As if in a trance, he spoons up another bite of cut up fruit, before raising it to flushed lips and eyes that know all too well what they’re doing.
“Besides,” Laurent breathes, maintaining electric eye contact with him as he slowly, slowly grinds down on the evidence of Damen’s true enjoyment- “I think that you don’t mind at all.” He says, and then wraps his lips around the spoon with an exaggerated air of indifference.
-And Damen is helpless against the groan he lets out, and the blush that follows when it echoes through the entire hall.
“The King of Vere on the lap of the King of Akeilos. Being fed, like- like-“ Says NIkandros, eyes wide and glued on the two people everyone in the room is staring at.
“I never thought I’d see something like this.” He admits, a small tinge of fondness creeping into his voice to nestle in softly with all the bewilderment and shock.
“Neither did I, buddy,” says Jord, his own warm smile equal parts scandalized and hopelessly, undeniably happy.
“Neither did I.”