He excused himself as soon as he could decently do so and went into the library. The headache was probably due to the champagne, so he called for a decanter of water be brought to him.
Once the servant set it on the table, he downed a glass and then drank another more slowly. Settling himself in one of the armchairs by the fire, Marcel sighed deeply, held the water glass, and sipped his water, letting his eyes fall shut.
"Marcel?"
He opened his eyes and looked up. "I thought you had gone to bed." He pushed himself up and out of his chair to move a few steps towards where Gilbert stood.
Gilbert shook his head once. "I … No, I have not retired yet, as you see." He trailed off into silence for a moment and then squared his shoulders. "Marcel, we must talk."
"About?"
"About Mr. Roux."
"Ah." Marcel could taste bitterness at the back of his throat, and he turned away to set his water glass on the table beside the decanter. "You two did get on very well this evening."
"You set us up."
"What?" Marcel turned back to where Gilbert still stood, now with his arms folded across his chest.
"Oh, come now," Gilbert said. "You just happen to have an old friend who is a dashing military man, brilliant, kind, and the first time you ever think of introducing us is right after I have admitted to falling for such a man. Although Tristan is a poor shadow to Mr. Roux, I should hope. I am not good with such social matters, Marcel, but even to me your intent was blindingly obvious."
"And what of it?" Marcel crossed his arms over his own chest, feeling tired, heartsick, and now slightly put upon.
"Why?" Gilbert shook his head, so openly and obviously puzzled it made Marcel sigh.
He reached up and undid the ribbon that held back his hair so he could run his fingers through it, a nervous habit born of frustration and exhaustion.
"Because I thought if you were to take a lover, or be courted by someone you cared for, it would ease the tension between us," he said. "I knew you probably would not want to, so soon after being so badly treated as you were. But I thought if you were to meet someone, someone handsome, intelligent, and caring, someone who wanted to spend time with you and was interested in the things you were interested in, someone who could love you for the beautiful, brilliant man you are …" he trailed off.
Gilbert had a look on his face he'd never seen before. There was sadness and tenderness mixed with something else, something deeper, that cut through Marcel and made his breath catch in his throat.
"I did," Gilbert said, voice very soft and very gentle.
"Please." Marcel was already shaking his head, and he wanted to back away, wanted to leave and run away, but there was no way out. Gilbert was blocking the only door. "Please don't, I can't." He swallowed hard. "You don't care for me that way, Gilbert, you said so yourself at the Christmas ball."
Gilbert looked unsure for a moment, but then his expression firmed. "People can change."
Marcel laughed softly. "No, no, you've never felt for me what I felt for you. Do not toy with me, Gilbert. I can't bear it. Send me away, take another lover, ask your father for an annulment, but don't do this."
"It's true for a long time I did not see you as anything more than my very dearest friend," Gilbert said. "But when you kissed me…" He fell silent for a moment. "I realized I could feel that way for you, that I do feel that way for you."
"You don't." Marcel was still shaking his head.
"I do." Gilbert took a step forward, and Marcel took a halting step back. "I desire you, Marcel, very much so. I think about you constantly, what it would feel like to have your hands on me, your body pressed against mine, the feel and taste of your lips. I have thought of little else other than having you in my bed since our marriage.
"The only times when I have not been consumed by thoughts of what we could do to each other in passion have been when I have desired your companionship. For us to sit together and talk or simply enjoy one another's company. That is why I have been avoiding you, because I did not know, do not know, how to say these things I want to do without coming off sounding fickle. Because I have been a fool for all these past years and not realized that I loved you more than I have ever loved anyone else, or could love anyone else."
They stared at each other. Marcel was in complete and utter shock, his whole body felt numb, and he could not think of a single thing to say.
Gilbert slowly crumpled. "Please," he said, voice gone soft. "Marcel, please believe that you hold the highest place in my affections. We are already married, I can't offer you that. But if you would consent to be my lover as well as my husband I would be so very, very happy."
Marcel finally gathered his scattered wits. "Yes," he said and hoped he wasn't making the wrong decision for the both of them. "Yes."
Then he was almost knocked backwards when Gilbert rushed to him.
"Oh God," Gilbert said, voice muffled against the curve of Marcel's neck. "Thank you, thank you, I was so terrified you would say no."
Marcel bent his head and pressed his lips to Gilbert's. It was gentle, and warm, and then Gilbert reached up, holding Marcel's face with his hands. Their kiss deepened and Marcel pressed into Gilbert's mouth, loving the way Gilbert opened to him, his mouth softening against his own.
Gilbert gasped a little into his mouth and clutched at Marcel as if he'd fall apart at any moment if Marcel were to stop.
Marcel broke away finally. "We should …" He cast about for some place they could comfortably sit, wishing they'd thought to put a settee in the library. "Return, I think, to my sitting room, if you would like."
"Or your bedroom." Gilbert's hands tangled in his jacket, keeping them close, and Marcel looked down at him, taking in kiss-bruised lips and eyes wide with desire.
"All right."
Maybe they were moving too fast, but he didn't really care, not when Gilbert linked their hands together and led the way out of the library and towards the stairs.
Marcel kissed Gilbert as soon as they were inside Marcel's bedroom, door shut between them and the rest of the world. He began to tug at Gilbert's clothes, without much effect until Gilbert broke away, his own hands divesting him of jacket, waistcoat, cravat, and shirt. Marcel wanted to watch, but he also wanted to be naked on the bed with Gilbert. In that moment, touching seemed much better than merely looking, so he turned his attention to shucking off his own clothes.
He sat on the edge of the bed and unbuckled his arm, setting it aside, and then stripped off his breeches. Looking up, he saw Gilbert paused, watching him, a high flush straining his cheeks. His own hand lingered shyly at the fastenings of his breeches, and Marcel smiled, reaching out and tugging Gilbert closer.
Marcel kissed him, softly and then deeper, tangling his good hand into Gilbert's hair and holding him in place as he explored and claimed Gilbert's mouth with his own. Slipping the tips of his fingers into the waistband of Gilbert's breeches, Marcel pulled back and then kissed the corners of Gilbert's mouth. He undid the fastenings of Gilbert's breeches and pushed them down and off, leaving Gilbert just in his drawers.
He was hard. Seeing that sent a surge of relief mixed with lust through Marcel so powerful he had close his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, Gilbert was looking at him with uncertainty written across his face.
"Come here," Marcel said, and spread his own legs so Gilbert could step between them. As soon as he did so, Marcel caught his lips in searing kiss. His hand cupped Gilbert's length, rubbing and pressing against it through the cloth of his underthings. His own cock was achingly hard already, just from the sight, feel, and taste of him. He pulled away far enough to gaze up into Gilbert's eyes. The centers were blown wide, and that pretty blue now dark with lust, and Gilbert trembled ever so slightly under Marcel's stare.
"You are beautiful," Marcel said. "I want you so much."
Gilbert shook his head, biting his lip. His cheeks were still pink with a blush that didn't seem to have gone away. He shook his h
ead. "I'm not."
"You are so beautiful." Marcel lay back on the bed and held out his hand to Gilbert, who joined him. "I've always thought so." He leaned forward and kissed Gilbert, putting his arm around his waist to draw them close.
The kiss lingered, deepened, and Gilbert's mouth opening under his allowed Marcel to invade, explore, and take.
Marcel's hand drifted from Gilbert's waist to undo his drawers, pushing them down and away, allowing his cock to spring free.
Gilbert gasped and Marcel couldn't help making pleased noises of his own as his hand closed around him, stroking him from root to tip.
"Like I said," his voice was rougher than usual, a bit strained and breathless as well. "So beautiful."
Gilbert's finger's clenched against the coverlets underneath them as Marcel continued to stroke him.
He rolled them both over suddenly, pressing Gilbert into the bed and allowing their naked lengths to rub together. It was a little painful and a good deal awkward to hold himself like this over Gilbert. The small noises of pleasure Gilbert made, though, the way he flung his head back, eyes fluttering shut, were more than enough reasons. Marcel kissed him with all the hunger and need he'd felt towards Gilbert for years, unable to touch or take. Like he could now.
He thrust his hips, letting his eyes close at the feel of Gilbert's erection moving against his own. Looking down, he saw the tip of Gilbert's cock was already moist, preseed gathering. The sight made his mouth water with the desire to take Gilbert into his mouth and taste the small amount of release that was already starting to gather.
But he also wanted to press inside Gilbert, know what he looked like spread open around Marcel's cock, his head thrown back in pleasure, Marcel's name on his lips. That thought tightened his stomach, pleasure coiling hot and insistent like embers just waiting to be fanned ablaze.
"I want ..." He bent, pressing feather-light kisses across Gilbert's face. "I want to know what it is like to join with you, press inside of you, if you would permit me?"
"Oh God, yes," Gilbert's hips lifted and his hands came up to frame Marcel's face. He kissed him, frantic with sudden hunger. "Yes, yes, please."
"I put the slick in the bedside table." Marcel kissed him briefly and rolled to the side. "You're going to have to reach it, I'm afraid."
"Of course." Gilbert blinked and then scrambled up, all but lunging for the table in question. He fumbled with the few objects on the table until his fingers closed around the little bottle of slick.
His hands shook as he rolled back over towards Marcel and pressed the bottle into Marcel's good hand.
"What do you need?"
Gilbert spread his legs and Marcel settled between them. He pressed a finger against Gilbert's entrance, stroking and caressing the muscles there until they began to yield to his touch.
"I would like it if you were slow." Gilbert looked up at him a little shyly, which made Marcel smile, considering what they were engaged in.
"Anything you like." Marcel leaned forward and kissed him. He sat back and tried to ignore how hard he was, how much his cock throbbed and ached with want. Instead, he concentrated on Gilbert, on opening his body carefully and giving him as much pleasure as possible as he did so. He stroked and pressed against Gilbert's entrance, trying to get it to relax and open for him.
"When I enter you," he said, looking up at Gilbert, "I want to you push back against me as much as a you like. You won't be fighting it, you'll be making it easier on yourself and on me."
Gilbert nodded, beginning to look a bit anxious, which was not what Marcel wanted in the least. He wished he had two good hands so he could stroke Gilbert's cock as he prepared him.
"Touch yourself."
Gilbert's eyes widened. "What?"
"Touch yourself, I want to watch as you bring yourself pleasure with your hand." Marcel smiled at him as cheekily as possible, and Gilbert smiled back, if much more tentatively.
His hands drifted down his body to wrap around his cock, his touch light and unsure.
"Come, now," Marcel said, continuing his gentle pressing against Gilbert's hole. "That's not how you touch yourself when you are alone in your bed at night, or when you've awaken from a dream aching and in need."
It must have been the right thing to say, because Gilbert gasped, back arching, and his grip tightened around his cock as he began stroking himself in earnest. His thumb rubbed across the crown, gathering up the wetness there and smearing it down his length.
"Do you want my fingers inside of you?" Marcel asked as he felt Gilbert's body begin to relax and give under his careful and probing caresses.
Gilbert hesitated for a moment and then shook his head. "No. I want you, your…" He blushed and trailed off into a mumble, raising his eyes to Marcel again. "Just be careful."
"Of course." Marcel pushed himself up and leaned over so he could kiss Gilbert tenderly on the lips. "Of course I will be careful. I would only ever be rough if you wanted me to be."
Something hungry moved across Gilbert's face, but then he nodded, laying back. "I will hold you to that one day, but for now just make love to me, slowly."
Marcel reached for the bottle, taking a generous amount onto his hand and stroking it down the length of his cock. He was so hard and ready that the feel of his hand was almost enough to drive him over the edge. He bit his lip, hoping once he was inside Gilbert he would manage to last. Positioning himself at Gilbert's entrance, he waited until Gilbert nodded, gaze locked on Marcel. He eased in slowly, giving Gilbert plenty of time to get used to the feel of him.
"Push against me." He steadied himself with his hand as he pushed in nice and slow. "That's it, the more you push against it, the more your body will open, all right? Just like that." He pushed in finally, far enough that he could let go of his own erection and reach up to stroke across Gilbert's chest, pinch at a nipple until Gilbert gasped and squirmed a little. "So beautiful," Marcel said as he pushed to the hilt. "So perfect. Oh God, Gilbert, feels so good."
"Yes." Gilbert was gasping, back arched and head tilted back. "Oh, oh, yes." He reached out, gripping Marcel's forearm. "Move." Gilbert opened his eyes and looked directly at Marcel, every line of his body spelling out need. "Move, please, before I go insane."
Marcel sucked in a long shaking breath of his own and then began to thrust, keeping his movements slow and shallow at first. Then Gilbert's grip on his arm tightened, and he thrust back to meet Marcel halfway. Marcel began to move in earnest, letting the need they both shared drive him. His pace sped up, his rhythm becoming more frantic.
Gilbert writhed underneath him, hips jerking each time Marcel thrust into him. His cock lay flat against his belly, smearing preseed as it throbbed.
They were both so close now. Marcel slowed his thrusts and wrapped his fingers around Gilbert's length, stroking him once, twice. Gilbert came with a small cry, back arching off the bed. The tight heat of him around Marcel's length constricted, and Marcel gasped, head falling forward as he too was pushed over the edge.
Below him Gilbert was trying to catch his breath; Marcel slowly pulled out and came to lay beside Gilbert on the bed.
After a moment, Gilbert rolled onto his side and kissed Marcel quite thoroughly, but without the earlier passion.
Marcel grinned at him when he pulled away. "Wonderful." He leaned forward and kissed Gilbert's forehead once. "You were wonderful."
Gilbert blushed but also snuggled into Marcel's side, putting his arms around Marcel.
"I'm sorry," he said after a moment.
"Why?" Marcel shifted so he could look down at him.
"For making you wait so long," Gilbert said. His hand passed lightly across Marcel's chest before gripping more tightly at his back. "I should have realized so long ago—"
"Shush." Marcel kissed him to quiet him. "I would never hold that against you, my love. That you thought of me only as a friend before now is quite all right. I have always treasured our friendship as I treasure your love now."
There w
as silence between them for a long moment, but it was of a comfortable sort.
"I am so glad," Gilbert said finally, reaching up to cup Marcel's face between his hands, "that Father chose you for me to marry. I cannot imagine sharing my life with anyone else."
Marcel grinned and rolled over so he was lying on top of Gilbert, kissing him soundly. "Nor I, my love."
Gilbert kissed him again.
"Tomorrow," Marcel rolled back over and curled against Gilbert's side. "You will show me the plans you've made for the gardens, yes?"
"Of course, if you will speak more with me about your research," Gilbert said. "And then we can arrange to have my hives brought down from the palace. I was thinking," he entwined their fingers together and kissed along Marcel's knuckles, "of enlarging the swarm since we have more room here. Would you approve of that?"
"I think that would be lovely."
Gilbert made a happy sound, his head on Marcel's shoulder as his eyes drifted shut.
They'd forgotten to close the drapes. Moonlight spilled through the window, and Marcel could see the sky was flecked with stars reflecting off the ice and snow that still covered the land. He let his own eyes drift shut, imagining the coming of spring and summer.
Gilbert would be stripped of his jacket, shirtsleeves turned up, sketching specimens or tending to his bees. Perhaps Marcel would bring some of his chalkboards out onto the patio and work in the open air, a pitcher of ice tea waiting for when Gilbert became too hot and joined him for refreshments.
Mind full with images of the coming summer, Marcel let himself fall into sleep.
Fin
About the Author
E.E. Ottoman is a geek and a gentleman. Zie spends zier time mostly in libraries doing research, and sometimes, when there is no one else there, dancing in the aisles. E. has always adored speculative fiction, especially paperback fantasy and science fiction. Zie loves a good ghost story and thinks every story becomes automatically better if you add tentacles. Overall, though, zie just loves a story that is fun to read. E. is especially fond of writing and reading stories with geeky, queer people doing awesome and sexy things.
Winter's Bees Page 10