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palacechristian24hrs after this.
Christian leaned back in his seat, despite the twinge it caused, and put his bare feet up on the side rungs of Liam's seat, sipping at his coffee. Liam was halfway through the paper and munching on toast as he read, Christian sitting beside him and working on his second cup of coffee while he waited. He wanted to talk to Liam if he got the chance, but there were certain other things that would need to be dealt with first, any second now if his senses were pinging him correctly and Johnny and Adrian really were waking up this time.
There, they were awake. Good. And... they'd found his little surprise. Excellent. He felt humor and just a touch of embarrassment from Johnny, and could hear giggles from both of them coming from down the hall. Liam looked at him from over the top of his paper, one inquiring eyebrow raised. Christian just grinned at him and held one finger up in front of his mouth. Any second now....
And then it came, startled dismay from Johnny, then a howled chorus of "CHRISTIAAAAANNNN!!" flavored with feelings of dire vengeance. He grinned and sipped his coffee. Ahh, success.
"Do I want to know what caused that?" asked Liam in a calm, conversational tone.
"Well," Christian said slowly, savoring the moment. "two little eavesdroppers just got what was coming to them. Whether or not you want to know might be a moot point depending on their state of dress when they come flying out here in about, oh, three seconds." He took another leisurely sip of his drink.
Christian!! Johnny was thinking as loudly as he could, which was pretty loud, actually. What did you-- did you glue these things?! If it hurts coming off you are going to SO regret it! Stay still, I'm trying! What did you DO, they won't move!! Christian untangled the mess and decided that the "Stay still" part was probably snapped at Adrian.
::They're staying on, courtesy of moi, until I decide you two have learned not to eavesdrop!::
What?! You--! Fuck! Come on, it was great! Admit it! Hey, I'll bet there are libertines with my talent who get paid piles of money to do what I did for you and Liam the other night! It was a favor! Pleeeeease! Christian could almost see Johnny's eyelashes fluttering.
Christian pretended to think, fully aware of Liam's questioning gaze. He gave the other man a grin. ::After breakfast.:: It was a concession as he'd fully intended to leave his handiwork in place for a lot longer, but the length of the meal would do.
He said till after breakfast, so-- Hey! You've gotta be kidding?! Ack! Christian felt Johnny's brain melt into a sex-filled haze as his attention was yanked, among other things.
"They're . . . staying in bed." Christian told Liam which earned him an eyeroll.
"They're not." he said. "Not again!"
Christian nodded slowly and then grinned. "Yup. Seems that pink polkadot ribbons tied to your cock are a real aphrodisiac."
Liam tilted his head back and looked down his nose at Christian, both eyebrows crawling up toward his hairline. "I'll... have to remember that. Maybe." He sipped his coffee thoughtfully. "Or maybe not."
Chuckling, Christian straightened up and turned round in his seat til he was facing the table. He laid down his cup and rested his elbows on the tablecloth, chin on his hands. "Liam? Can I talk to you about something?"
"Of course." Liam folded his paper and set it down. "What's on your mind?"
Christian sucked in a breath. "Well, it's kinda complicated. Can we . . .?" he pointed toward the couches. Liam nodded and, taking his drink with him, followed Christian over to the sofas where they sat down together on the same couch. "I was talking to one of the Councilors a few weeks ago," Christian began hesitantly. "nothing serious, just chatting, like, and he said something about dad, I don't even remember really what it was, but it set me off thinking and . . ." He trailed off, unsure of where he was going.
"Something which concerned you? Something you couldn't bring up with him?"
"No, no." Christian waved it off. "More general than that. It was a remark, a joke really about me potentially being the longest serving Crown Prince Calera is ever likely to have. Which is right. I mean . . . dad's not even twenty years my senior and if I inherit upon his death, I'd only be there a few years 'fore I was passing it on. It wasn't about that so much, it was what I started thinking about after.”
"And what was that?"
"Like, barring accident or something, it's more practical for the crown to pass to my kids, right? But I keep thinking, and it's stupid and selfish of me I know, but I can't stop thinking that dad might decide to abdicate at some point and hand the reins over to me. That's feasible. Thing is, I hate the idea. And then I feel all guilty cause . . . well, me hating the idea is the one thing that could stop dad from doing it and . . . that's not fair on him." He buried his head in his hands. "I am explaining this soooo badly."
"No, you're doing fine," Liam said. "And it's perfectly understandable that you don't want that job. Your father doesn't want it either, and I think this is an excellent indication that insanity does not run in the Csokas family." He gave Christian a crooked smile and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. He felt something else, something hiding the fear Christian had of being selfish, and added, "If it helps at all, I believe that when you do take your turn under the pointy hat you'll do a fine job. If you were absolutely confident that you were the best possible person for the job, I'd recommend to Marton that he strongly consider finding someone else and that's neither a joke nor an attempt to puff your ego."
"You think?!" Christian knew he should be well past being astonished by Liam's insight but the man never failed to surprise him, no matter how well he thought he'd hidden or denied his real feelings. "He's just--" he waved a hand. "--such a hard act to follow, you know? How the fuck am I supposed to live up to that? The whole world's gonna be looking at me to fail! He's not the man his father was . . .blah, blah, blah."
"You're right, they will. Just as they expected your father to fail when he took the throne -- more so in his case because he was half your age. The gossip around the capital at the time was that Marton would be a puppet king for decades, if not forever, with a few men who'd been powerful under your grandfather pulling the strings." Liam flashed him a feral smile. "Marton blasted everyone's expectations -- almost everyone's, that is -- and you'll do the same."
"Who'd I blast?" Marton strolled into the living room already dressed for a day's work, despite the early hour. He didn't wait for a response. Instead he hiked a thumb over his shoulder and down the hall. "You renovating?" he asked Christian. "Or are those two at it again?"
"Good morning, Marton," Liam said with a low nod that hinted at a bow. "We were talking about Walgrave and Ashton and Delacruz and Shackleton. The men who believed, for a very short time, that they'd be ruling Calera after your father died."
"Ahh. The Four Horsemen of the Apocolypse." Marton grinned and took the seat opposite Christian. "They were tough opponents; beating them was fun." He looked at his son. "There a reason for bringing them up?"
Christian pulled a face. "Just a little insecurity leaking." he admitted with a rueful smile.
Marton nodded his understanding. "Perfectly reasonable thing to have leaking." he glanced at Liam. "Sorted him out, have you?"
"Perhaps. As well as one can, given a situation which has no really good solution."
"Ahh, but there is a solution." Marton said in definite tones, looking between one and the other before getting to his feet. His smile was bright and had a strange edge of satisfaction to it. Christian eyed his father suspiciously. He knew that self-satisfied expression.
"Practice." Marton announced, beaming. "Practice makes perfect. And to that end . . ." He lifted his hand and pulled off his signet ring, his signature of Office, leaning down to take Christian's hand in his own and thrusting the ring onto his little finger.
Christian jumped to his feet, his face reflecting his confusion and astonishment at the gesture.
Marton simply grinned and patted his shoulder. "I'm going out of town, sunshine." he told him in mock-confidential tones . "You're the boss."
He turned on his heel and made to leave. But he couldn't help himself, he had to stop in the doorway and turn around, a huge grin on his face. "That," he declared. "was without doubt the best lead-in to a punch-line I have ever had fall at my feet!"
Liam followed Marton with his eyes until he vanished, then turned back to Christian. "As usual, he's right." He lifted his coffee mug in an exaggerated toast. "Long live His Temporary Majesty!" he intoned with a grin.
It was Christian's turn to roll his eyes. "He meant to do that!" he said, his voice still reflecting his shock. "He came over here to do that and we gave him the perfect . . ." he shook his head in disbelief. "I don't believe he did that!" A noise from down the hall grabbed his attention. "What the fuck are they doing in there?! Swinging from the rafters?"
Liam choked on a laugh and nearly spit his coffee. "Just how tight did you make those ribbons? If they're too restrictive to allow ejaculation, they could be at it for a while."
Christian looked up from the ring he couldn't help but keep glancing at and gave Liam a sly look. "Should we go see?" he offered. "Better yet, should we take a vid camera and go see? I'd really like a snap of those ribbons for posterity."
"You're a cruel despot, Your Majesty," Liam said with a sigh, "but in this case I approve. Let's go look -- strictly as a safety check, of course."
"Oh, of course." Christian nodded sagely, adding a wink for good measure. "I'll get the camera. You get the door and the lights. . . "
Christian leaned back in his seat, despite the twinge it caused, and put his bare feet up on the side rungs of Liam's seat, sipping at his coffee. Liam was halfway through the paper and munching on toast as he read, Christian sitting beside him and working on his second cup of coffee while he waited. He wanted to talk to Liam if he got the chance, but there were certain other things that would need to be dealt with first, any second now if his senses were pinging him correctly and Johnny and Adrian really were waking up this time.
There, they were awake. Good. And... they'd found his little surprise. Excellent. He felt humor and just a touch of embarrassment from Johnny, and could hear giggles from both of them coming from down the hall. Liam looked at him from over the top of his paper, one inquiring eyebrow raised. Christian just grinned at him and held one finger up in front of his mouth. Any second now....
And then it came, startled dismay from Johnny, then a howled chorus of "CHRISTIAAAAANNNN!!" flavored with feelings of dire vengeance. He grinned and sipped his coffee. Ahh, success.
"Do I want to know what caused that?" asked Liam in a calm, conversational tone.
"Well," Christian said slowly, savoring the moment. "two little eavesdroppers just got what was coming to them. Whether or not you want to know might be a moot point depending on their state of dress when they come flying out here in about, oh, three seconds." He took another leisurely sip of his drink.
Christian!! Johnny was thinking as loudly as he could, which was pretty loud, actually. What did you-- did you glue these things?! If it hurts coming off you are going to SO regret it! Stay still, I'm trying! What did you DO, they won't move!! Christian untangled the mess and decided that the "Stay still" part was probably snapped at Adrian.
::They're staying on, courtesy of moi, until I decide you two have learned not to eavesdrop!::
What?! You--! Fuck! Come on, it was great! Admit it! Hey, I'll bet there are libertines with my talent who get paid piles of money to do what I did for you and Liam the other night! It was a favor! Pleeeeease! Christian could almost see Johnny's eyelashes fluttering.
Christian pretended to think, fully aware of Liam's questioning gaze. He gave the other man a grin. ::After breakfast.:: It was a concession as he'd fully intended to leave his handiwork in place for a lot longer, but the length of the meal would do.
He said till after breakfast, so-- Hey! You've gotta be kidding?! Ack! Christian felt Johnny's brain melt into a sex-filled haze as his attention was yanked, among other things.
"They're . . . staying in bed." Christian told Liam which earned him an eyeroll.
"They're not." he said. "Not again!"
Christian nodded slowly and then grinned. "Yup. Seems that pink polkadot ribbons tied to your cock are a real aphrodisiac."
Liam tilted his head back and looked down his nose at Christian, both eyebrows crawling up toward his hairline. "I'll... have to remember that. Maybe." He sipped his coffee thoughtfully. "Or maybe not."
Chuckling, Christian straightened up and turned round in his seat til he was facing the table. He laid down his cup and rested his elbows on the tablecloth, chin on his hands. "Liam? Can I talk to you about something?"
"Of course." Liam folded his paper and set it down. "What's on your mind?"
Christian sucked in a breath. "Well, it's kinda complicated. Can we . . .?" he pointed toward the couches. Liam nodded and, taking his drink with him, followed Christian over to the sofas where they sat down together on the same couch. "I was talking to one of the Councilors a few weeks ago," Christian began hesitantly. "nothing serious, just chatting, like, and he said something about dad, I don't even remember really what it was, but it set me off thinking and . . ." He trailed off, unsure of where he was going.
"Something which concerned you? Something you couldn't bring up with him?"
"No, no." Christian waved it off. "More general than that. It was a remark, a joke really about me potentially being the longest serving Crown Prince Calera is ever likely to have. Which is right. I mean . . . dad's not even twenty years my senior and if I inherit upon his death, I'd only be there a few years 'fore I was passing it on. It wasn't about that so much, it was what I started thinking about after.”
"And what was that?"
"Like, barring accident or something, it's more practical for the crown to pass to my kids, right? But I keep thinking, and it's stupid and selfish of me I know, but I can't stop thinking that dad might decide to abdicate at some point and hand the reins over to me. That's feasible. Thing is, I hate the idea. And then I feel all guilty cause . . . well, me hating the idea is the one thing that could stop dad from doing it and . . . that's not fair on him." He buried his head in his hands. "I am explaining this soooo badly."
"No, you're doing fine," Liam said. "And it's perfectly understandable that you don't want that job. Your father doesn't want it either, and I think this is an excellent indication that insanity does not run in the Csokas family." He gave Christian a crooked smile and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. He felt something else, something hiding the fear Christian had of being selfish, and added, "If it helps at all, I believe that when you do take your turn under the pointy hat you'll do a fine job. If you were absolutely confident that you were the best possible person for the job, I'd recommend to Marton that he strongly consider finding someone else and that's neither a joke nor an attempt to puff your ego."
"You think?!" Christian knew he should be well past being astonished by Liam's insight but the man never failed to surprise him, no matter how well he thought he'd hidden or denied his real feelings. "He's just--" he waved a hand. "--such a hard act to follow, you know? How the fuck am I supposed to live up to that? The whole world's gonna be looking at me to fail! He's not the man his father was . . .blah, blah, blah."
"You're right, they will. Just as they expected your father to fail when he took the throne -- more so in his case because he was half your age. The gossip around the capital at the time was that Marton would be a puppet king for decades, if not forever, with a few men who'd been powerful under your grandfather pulling the strings." Liam flashed him a feral smile. "Marton blasted everyone's expectations -- almost everyone's, that is -- and you'll do the same."
"Who'd I blast?" Marton strolled into the living room already dressed for a day's work, despite the early hour. He didn't wait for a response. Instead he hiked a thumb over his shoulder and down the hall. "You renovating?" he asked Christian. "Or are those two at it again?"
"Good morning, Marton," Liam said with a low nod that hinted at a bow. "We were talking about Walgrave and Ashton and Delacruz and Shackleton. The men who believed, for a very short time, that they'd be ruling Calera after your father died."
"Ahh. The Four Horsemen of the Apocolypse." Marton grinned and took the seat opposite Christian. "They were tough opponents; beating them was fun." He looked at his son. "There a reason for bringing them up?"
Christian pulled a face. "Just a little insecurity leaking." he admitted with a rueful smile.
Marton nodded his understanding. "Perfectly reasonable thing to have leaking." he glanced at Liam. "Sorted him out, have you?"
"Perhaps. As well as one can, given a situation which has no really good solution."
"Ahh, but there is a solution." Marton said in definite tones, looking between one and the other before getting to his feet. His smile was bright and had a strange edge of satisfaction to it. Christian eyed his father suspiciously. He knew that self-satisfied expression.
"Practice." Marton announced, beaming. "Practice makes perfect. And to that end . . ." He lifted his hand and pulled off his signet ring, his signature of Office, leaning down to take Christian's hand in his own and thrusting the ring onto his little finger.
Christian jumped to his feet, his face reflecting his confusion and astonishment at the gesture.
Marton simply grinned and patted his shoulder. "I'm going out of town, sunshine." he told him in mock-confidential tones . "You're the boss."
He turned on his heel and made to leave. But he couldn't help himself, he had to stop in the doorway and turn around, a huge grin on his face. "That," he declared. "was without doubt the best lead-in to a punch-line I have ever had fall at my feet!"
Liam followed Marton with his eyes until he vanished, then turned back to Christian. "As usual, he's right." He lifted his coffee mug in an exaggerated toast. "Long live His Temporary Majesty!" he intoned with a grin.
It was Christian's turn to roll his eyes. "He meant to do that!" he said, his voice still reflecting his shock. "He came over here to do that and we gave him the perfect . . ." he shook his head in disbelief. "I don't believe he did that!" A noise from down the hall grabbed his attention. "What the fuck are they doing in there?! Swinging from the rafters?"
Liam choked on a laugh and nearly spit his coffee. "Just how tight did you make those ribbons? If they're too restrictive to allow ejaculation, they could be at it for a while."
Christian looked up from the ring he couldn't help but keep glancing at and gave Liam a sly look. "Should we go see?" he offered. "Better yet, should we take a vid camera and go see? I'd really like a snap of those ribbons for posterity."
"You're a cruel despot, Your Majesty," Liam said with a sigh, "but in this case I approve. Let's go look -- strictly as a safety check, of course."
"Oh, of course." Christian nodded sagely, adding a wink for good measure. "I'll get the camera. You get the door and the lights. . . "
