Page 41 of A Gaze So Longing (The Fall of Livenza #1)

“This—” Favian had never said the words out loud before.

He had tried, by himself only. In his room, in the washroom, at the stables, in the forest, in the morning, at noon, in the evening, at night.

Never had they allowed him to speak them into existence, render them true.

“This is what your father did,” he pressed out.

“He took off my clothes without asking. He touched me. He—he—”

“Favian, Favian.” Leonardo was up now, too.

He arranged himself in front of Favian, hands held out tentatively.

“It’s alright. You don’t need to tell me.

I’m never going to make you. I’m not going to force you to tell me, and I’m not going to pressure you into doing anything with me, either.

We can just keep kissing, or we can stop completely—”

“No! I want to keep doing this!” The words were out before he decided to verbalize them.

And they were true—for once, Favian truly, wholeheartedly, wanted this.

He felt stupid in his desperation, but Leonardo chuckled.

Something about it felt right. Leonardo was taking him seriously, but he wasn’t treating him like he was some delicate flower.

“Alright,” the prince said. He motioned for Favian’s hands, and after receiving an affirmative nod, he took them into his, softly stroking the backs. “I do, too. And I don’t want to make you uncomfortable at any point. I want to make you feel good. Can you tell me how to do that?”

“I—” The urge to fidget was suppressed only by Leonardo’s fingers brushing his, the warmth and firm rhythm keeping him steady. “I think I need to be in control.”

He was scared of the repercussions of this admission, scared that Leonardo would think him coarse, call him disgusting, or, worse, laugh at him.

Instead, the prince grinned . “How fitting. I like being controlled.”

Favian wasn’t sure he understood. Leonardo couldn’t mean that he liked to be controlled sexually. . .could he?

“You. . .what?”

“Tell me what you want,” Leonardo said, mused, challenged . “I promise I won’t judge you.”

Favian swallowed. Took a deep breath. “I—when I kissed you yesterday—” Gods, was he really going to say it out loud? “I really wanted to push you further. I suddenly had this urge to—to dominate, but I know I was too rough and I shouldn’t—”

“I like it rough.”

Favian stared at him, eyes wide.

Leonardo was serious, no hint of a joke anywhere on his face. He was serious. Utterly, ridiculously serious.

“What bothered me yesterday was that you wanted to pretend there was nothing we needed to talk about. And, perhaps more importantly, that we didn’t talk about what was going on between us .

I didn’t actually know what was going on.

But now that I know what you want. . .” He let go of Favian’s hands and slowly unlaced the golden doublet vest he was still wearing before gradually, teasingly, shedding the layer.

He then dropped back onto his elbows, spreading his legs around Favian.

Slowly, Leonardo moved backwards until his shoulders met the mountain of pillows underneath the headboard.

Frozen in place, Favian could do nothing but gawk as his prince raised one arm over his own head, stretching it above himself, and the other went for the hem of his white blouse, which he began slowly lifting, all while maintaining eye contact with the baffled man sitting at the edge of the bed, intoxicated by the sight.

“You can have this,” Leonardo murmured. “You can touch me, and I’ll be still for you.”

The hand that had been playing with his hem joined the other above his head, leaving his shirt half-bunched up across his chest, revealing a nipple underneath the frills.

His erection was straining against his dark pants, practically begging Favian to heed the offer.

The prince’s wrists were crossed against the headboard, hands far away from Favian.

Never in his life had he been this turned on.

“These hands won’t do anything you don’t want them to. Let me serve you.”

Something clicked, then.

Favian as good as pounced onto Leonardo, straddling his lap.

Both of them gasped when their cocks met, no longer able to contain the desire.

Favian kissed his prince while his hand found the place where Leonardo’s wrists crossed, and he pressed .

Pressed Leonardo into the headboard, into the pillows.

They were grinding against each other; Favian felt precum leaking through the layers of fabric.

His other hand caught Leonardo by the chin, the same way it had the night before.

But this time, he knew Leonardo wanted to be touched like this.

He grabbed the prince by his jaw and devoured him, piece by piece.

He kissed the prince’s lips, his jaw, his neck.

Reminded of the attic, he let his tongue wander across the tender skin underneath Leonardo’s ear, down to his collarbone.

He paused, then, dizzily asking, “Can I take your shirt off?”

“You can do whatever you want.” The prince was panting, out of breath, never mind that Favian had barely touched him. “I’ll tell you if I want you to stop. Or I’ll tap you twice. Like this.” Leonardo demonstrated, tapping two fingers against the hand holding onto his arms. “Or both.”

Favian nodded and pressed another kiss to Leonardo’s honeyed lips before letting go of him.

He slid his hands underneath the prince’s ruffled blouse, finally touching the skin he had been admiring for so long.

His fingers moved like they had always known what to do, wandering over Leonardo’s chest, exploring every inch of it, noting every muscle, every freckle, every scar.

He wanted to put his mouth to them, taste the pain on them, and absolve Leonardo of all of it.

He pushed the blouse up and above, over Leonardo’s head, helping him out of the sleeves before returning to the naked warm bronze skin underneath.

This time, he used his mouth, kissing a line from Leonardo’s chin down to his navel, only then returning to his chest. When his lips found one of the prince’s nipples, he didn’t think, he sucked , and Leonardo moaned .

Nothing had ever sounded sweeter than the prince in Favian’s hands, in his mouth.

He kept going, his hand wandering over Leonardo’s scars, the tissue sleek under his fingertips. The prince gasped at every touch, but he didn’t stop him, instead arching his body closer, moving underneath Favian so his fingers would reach every inch of freckled skin.

Favian couldn’t get enough of it, of the body wringing underneath him.

Desperate to find out what else Leonardo would let him do, Favian’s hand found its way back to Leonardo’s jaw, his throat.

He pressed his thumb into the side, the ball of his index finger against the prince’s Adam’s apple.

Almost immediately, Leonardo’s hand darted down, tapping twice on the fingers around his throat while saying, “Stop.”

Favian did. Immediately, he panicked.

“Sorry!” he exclaimed. “That was too much, Gods, I’m sorry, are you alright?”

Leonardo’s expression was tender as he held out his hand.

When Favian placed his own palm in the prince’s, he brought it to his neck, guiding Favian’s fingers into a position higher up on his throat, right underneath his jaw.

“You can push up,” he said. “Or down.” Favian’s fingers were led downward, comfortably assuming a position above Leonardo’s collarbones.

“Don’t apply any pressure to the front or the sides.

I like the feeling of being choked, but I don’t actually want to choke. ”

Favian whispered, “Alright,” but didn’t dare move his hand again.

“Do you want to try again? I can keep my hand on top of yours and show you how much pressure I like.”

“I’m not sure,” Favian quietly replied. “I’m worried I’ll hurt you.”

Leonardo sat up and carefully touched Favian’s shoulders. “It’s good that you think about that. But I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t sure I wanted it, or if I didn’t know what my body can handle.”

The implication revealed a truth that Favian had attempted to ignore. “Have you—have you done this a lot?”

“A few times,” Leonardo said. “I was close to a few people at the front. But I never stopped thinking about you.”

That was not at all what Favian had been contemplating. He had no doubt the prince’s feelings for him were sincere, and he didn’t much care about the people Leonardo had been with while the two had been apart.

“I’m not as experienced as you,” he admitted through gritted teeth, suddenly embarrassed.

“Oh,” Leonardo said, understanding passing over his features. “That’s fine. I figured as much.”

Favian knew his cheeks were scarlet. He was hot.

“Can I ask you about it?”

“Alright,” Favian mumbled, too quickly, eyes trained on one of the pillows behind the prince.

With no shame whatsoever, Leonardo asked, “Have you ever been inside anyone?”

Favian shook his head.

The next question was softer, Leonardo’s tone delicate. “Has anyone ever been inside you?”

Another head shake. “I have…” Favian swallowed. He closed his eyes before speaking again, keeping them shut while he pressed out words that came as thick as molasses. “I know what to do. I used to prepare myself, just in case. I keep a bottle of oil.”

Leonardo didn’t reply, and despite his fear of what he would see, Favian opened his eyes again. He needed to know what this revelation did to Leonardo.

What he saw on the prince’s face was this:

There was pain.

There was anger.

And there was guilt.

“Favian…”

“Don’t, please.” He couldn’t do this right now, not while they were finally so close, while he was in the middle of figuring out what he actually wanted. “Please just keep asking me like you did before.”

Leonardo regarded him, clearly not convinced that this would be the best course of action. Favian could tell that Leonardo had questions about his father, that despite his willingness to give Favian time, he wanted to know the details.

“I can’t share it all at once,” Favian added. “It’s…It’s really painful.”

This earned him a nod. “Alright,” Leonardo said. “I’m happy about anything you feel comfortable telling me.”

A short pause, then: “If you’ve prepared yourself before…Have you tried entering yourself?”

Favian shrugged, cheeks red, grateful for the change of topic yet embarrassed by the question all the same.

“A few times,” he truthfully replied, “but I never managed to make it feel good. It never felt. . .right.” This was making him nervous.

Leonardo wouldn’t be asking if he didn’t care .

He whispered, “I apologize if that means you won’t get to fuck me. ”

“Favian.” Leonardo’s voice was genuine, so, so genuine. “You never have to apologize for not wanting to do something with me.”

“I feel stupid for not knowing what to do. The only time I’ve ever done anything close to this by my own free will was the day before you left.

” Another version of him may have shed tears at the admission, but this Favian was still staring at the mountain of cushions, unable to meet the prince’s gaze while his cheeks were burning away.

He didn’t want to see Leonardo’s face as he processed the confession.

“I want to do more things, I want to try things with you, but I don’t really know what I want, or how to do any of this, I only realized yesterday that I have these messed up desires, and I now I’m scared that because I want that you’ll think I also want to do other things, and—”

“Let me say it again,” Leonardo interrupted before Favian could lose himself in the spiral.

“I’ll never do anything you don’t want me to.

And you don’t have to apologize for any of it.

Neither for the things you do want, nor for the ones you don’t .

I’m serious. I’m happy to be with you, no matter what that means.

I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give me. ”

Some things never changed, it seemed.

“And just for the record: I enjoy both sides. So when—if—you do want to try something else, I’m open to either option.”

The prince planted a careful kiss on Favian’s cheek, then rested his forehead against Favian’s.

“Can you tell me you registered what I just said?” he quietly asked when Favian didn’t respond.

“Yes,” Favian breathed. And: “Thank you.”

Leonardo kissed him. “Do you want to stay here tonight?”

He did.

Gods, he did.

“I don’t think I should. Nia is going to be worried about me. And also about you.”

The prince arched an eyebrow. “About me?”

“She likes you. Actually, she’s been waiting for this to happen for perhaps as long as you,” Favian confessed.

That elicited a laugh from Leonardo, who promptly nuzzled Favian’s cheek. “Well, I’m glad someone is supportive of this relationship.”

The word caught him by surprise—it scared him, he realized, but he was too tired to engage with the questions it brought up. They would have time to talk about it. “She’s going to be so excited when I tell her about this.” He paused. “Unless you don’t want me to?”

“Please do,” Leonardo chuckled. “We’re going to need someone in our corner.”

And just like that, they were something .

“I’m going to see you tomorrow, alright?” Favian asked. “Will you come by the stables?”

Another kiss on his forehead. “Of course I will. Let me walk you out.”

So they got up, fingers meeting here and there. The prince put his blouse back on and accompanied Favian to the door. Leonardo kissed him deeply, and Favian slung his arms around the prince one last time before leaving him for the night.

Warmth bloomed in his chest in the shape of the sun.