to think that godefrius, his majesty's loyal guard and a master of all swords, unbeatable in all senses would willingly walk into the arms of a nobleman from another kingdom--along with the realization, came the shame, flooding within him, thick and repressive. he was used to receiving attention, but, ultimately, it was his choice to entertain or reject his pursuer. never had he been so starved for someone's presence that he went unarmored, barred from all weapons sans his magic. it took more than just sweet words and heated glances to sway his loyalty, but right now, godefrius felt unmoored, feet shaky against the floor. was this a mistake? godefrius wasn't above making mistakes, but there was no place for something so grave that could threaten his king.
before he could do something to his thoughts, both entertaining or dismissing them, the door in front of him swung open and, behind it, stood oisín, donned in a robe, undone on the front. all thoughts momentarily left godefrius' head as his gaze immediately drifted down to that toned chest and abdomen, quick as a bolt of lightning in his admiration and desire, before flickering up to face the nobleman's eyes squarely. "you needn't worry, my lord," he said after a moment, remembering his words once again. godefrius could only hope that none of his men could listen to his thoughts because, at the moment, no thoughts inside his head involved his majesty and his royal family at all. how could he think of them when there was a fine specimen of man waiting for him?
godefrius allowed himself to be pulled into the room by a firm grip on his wrists. he allowed the nobleman to push him against the door just as he allowed oisín's magic to brush against his. the sensation startled him and he watched the nobleman with a narrowed, slightly questioning gaze. it seemed that the man was a sorcerer or at least someone familiar with magic. powerful and resourceful--godefrius had to wet his lips at the jolt of arousal running through him, breath growing hot and labored. still, he refused to bow his head to oisín's game. he knew the man wanted him to beg, to whine--there was no mistaking the gleam in the nobleman's eyes; he wasn't the first man who wanted godefrius to heel--but he wasn't going to yield without putting up a fight. his lips curled into a teasing smile before he hooked his fingers to the waistband of oisín's pants and dragged him closer until they were pressed against each other. a satisfied sigh escaped godefrius lips at the feeling of hard planes of muscle against his unarmored body and the warmth that spread through him.
"where is the self-confidence you so proudly displayed earlier, my lord?" the air mingled between them as godefrius spoke. godefrius breathed oisín in, calm and collected, and when he spoke. his tone was conversational, as if he was talking about the economic condition of chasque. his body, however, betrayed his calm: the anticipation had sent his length to stand half-mast inside his pants and there was a fine tremor in his hands. "or, perhaps, do you need me to lead? to show you how i like it?" godefrius sighed through his nose, as if it was a chore, as if it was a burden, before his hand drifted up to cup the back of oisín's neck, pulling him even closer. "mm, maybe i should just show you how," he whispered before, finally, finally, allowing himself to surrender through a kiss, the slow movement of his lips against the nobleman's sending a pleasant shudder throughout his body, making him ache for more.