#lovefail

A curtain of darkened curls fell over his cedar gaze, framing a furrowed picture of concentration. Strong hands continued to busy themselves with re-planting the rehabilitated seedlings into the freshly dug earth. Alec may have been a games keeper by trade, but his vehement love of the wood and all things that grow spurred him to learn a tip or two about tending to the green. It wasn't until the gentleman's words that Alec's focus was stunted by a good natured scoff. "Now I know you're really pullin' my leg, you are," turning his head a moment to glance over his shoulder, dimpling towards the familiar figure of his love. His smile was playful yet unconvinced. "There's plen'y lo'ike me. Under different names 'course, but believe me, Maurice, I'm just a run-o-the-mill. I may know my salt more than some others, but doesn't do much to set me 'part at the end of the day, 'suppose. " he tut, shrugging his broad shoulders before turning back to such rural deeds. "Now, want me to show you 'ow to pro'erly pack the soil back in with the fertilizer?"

He eyes him from the side for a moment, getting a closer glimpse of his striking features. He reminds him of a Greek statue he'd once seen, a chiseled face with blue eyes framed by golden locks. "I don't think I've ever seen you round here?"

His breath escapes him in strained huffs, cheeks painted in hues of red ( an indication for both the straining exercise taking a toll on his body and the embarrassment he feels to be panting already ) and he grins when he speaks, wiping the sweat off his forehead with his arm. But the reply he receives in turn has Valentin frown, concern evident in amber eyes. " Ah, no, I meant it is ridiculous how much of an effect this training has on me. Perhaps I've grown too comfortable in my role as a teacher. " His expression softens, his smile returning in attempts to comfort. " You're not ridiculous, Maurice. It's most impressive what you can do. "

"C'mere, love. Let's break tha' rule then, shall we?" soothed Richard, arms reaching out in bed to pull the gentleman close. He didn't know how long they were to lay like this, his arms cocooned round Maurice's frame, as he led the blonde's head against his chest. Frankly, Richard didn't care. He'd hold Maurice for as long as the other wished, all without a single ounce of selfishness to it.

The Scotsman was just about to flip the omelette onto a plate when he felt two familiar hands wrap round his waist, before the tip of Maurice's nose nuzzle into the crook of his neck. "Mornin', I didn't know ye' were awake.-- Ey', easy, sir, ye' migh' make me drop yer' breakfast," chuckled Richard, his shoulder scrunching in an attempt to slink away from Maurice's nose and his warm breath brushing up against the curve of his neck.

"Then let's go," cooed Richard, his voice as gentle as honey as he gazed at the blonde in pure and abashed adoration. "Let's run off to wha'ever plot of nature ye' can think of tonigh'. Nobody will be the wiser. It'll just be us, our love, and nature. Please, I can't think of anythin' else I'd want to do. At least let me make yer' fantasy a reality, sir."

"I hope that was alright," is what he finally says, dropping his hands into his lap. "You can tell me if it wasn't."

Suddenly, the light and plumed touch of Maurice’s lips trailed against Richard’s sensitive middle. The young gardener’s tempered voice couldn’t help but come to a halt, as golden, fluttering chuckles sliced through his steady narration. “I swear, this is another reason why ye’ should give yer’self a shave. Tha’ mustache yer’ growin’ out feels like bristles,” he snorted, trying to slightly wriggle away from the other. “If ye’ don’t give yer’self a clean shave, sir, I migh’ be tempted to do it for ye’.”