[ It's more than enough. Petre's gaze drifts, silent, no need to ask about Rhaenyra or why her involvement was a breach of Aegon's trust. He imagines how everything must have felt so distorted during and after instead, and like he knows the urge to withdraw is closing in, squeezes lightly to signal that he doesn't want that. It's easy to understand, though. When people stop pretending and things become permanent, it's better to either cut them off or leave them behind.
Lips brush Aegon's neck when he gets the chance. Petre can feel the blood rushing with each heartbeat, faster than when they're resting, maybe more intense than when he's about to come. For the first time, he wants to talk about Caleb. He probably won't. ]
[ He had been about to sit up, discover how much alcohol he could gulp in one go, when Petre's lips found his skin. Like he'd known he was thinking about straying. He chooses to embrace it, fingers unwinding from the neck of the bottle to return to his companion, ignoring what it means as he seeks a different sort of intoxication from such unwarranted affection. Enveloped in his warmth now, soothing the aches left behind by their monstrous tussle and his brother, Aegon decides he doesn't want Petre to be this way with anyone else. Morning Aegon may very well think differently, when he slips out of his arms and doesn't look back on his way out.
He waits for him to continue, his hand caressing the back of Petre's head, fingertips combing through his hair before they move over his shoulders, along his spine. He doesn't, so: ] I wish, then it'd finish me off, and I wouldn't have to endure the next few days.
[ An uncomfortable shift in his expression where he can't be seen, Petre lies still for a while, gaze empty. Even if Aegon doesn't mean it and forgets what he just said later, the thought of it still pulls sharp strings that could trigger a jagged trap in Petre's chest. There haven't been many times he's dealt with abandonment, and he thinks death is that, in a way. Like Petre is right here as Aegon tells him he wouldn't mind leaving him behind. A selfish monster that overlooks Aegon's pain is reminded of the last time he wanted someone to hold him, only for that person to reject him instead.
He's always liked fingers in his hair. Did he ever tell Aegon that? ]
We could always just fuck off.
[ No king for the tourney, no star for the play. What a scandal. ]
I rather enjoy being the center of attention, [ The real reason he won't fuck off is he has no desire to sabotage the work his family has done. It wouldn't stop him from misbehaving, but he'll at least be present, do his part. ] and I wouldn't want you to miss your debut.
[ That he's certain his mother will hate, so it's important he be there. Should Aegon warn him that she's no longer willfully oblivious to what they get up to now? ... No! He tucks himself in closer to Petre, eyes closing as his fingertips continue ghosting over his skin. ]
You may whisk me into tents in between my tasks if you'd like.
[ A sympathetic sigh. Petre has also been looking forward to being the center of attention β when isn't he? β and it'd be a shame to not see how the audience will react. Not to mention he'd be letting the rest of the cast down (or doing them a favor, depending on one's point of view).
Apparently Aegon had the ability to make him forget that. Cool cool.
He leans in, steals a kiss that lingers just so he can forget for a while longer. ]
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Lips brush Aegon's neck when he gets the chance. Petre can feel the blood rushing with each heartbeat, faster than when they're resting, maybe more intense than when he's about to come. For the first time, he wants to talk about Caleb. He probably won't. ]
It's like poison.
[ A murmur. ]
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He waits for him to continue, his hand caressing the back of Petre's head, fingertips combing through his hair before they move over his shoulders, along his spine. He doesn't, so: ] I wish, then it'd finish me off, and I wouldn't have to endure the next few days.
no subject
He's always liked fingers in his hair. Did he ever tell Aegon that? ]
We could always just fuck off.
[ No king for the tourney, no star for the play. What a scandal. ]
no subject
[ That he's certain his mother will hate, so it's important he be there. Should Aegon warn him that she's no longer willfully oblivious to what they get up to now? ... No! He tucks himself in closer to Petre, eyes closing as his fingertips continue ghosting over his skin. ]
You may whisk me into tents in between my tasks if you'd like.
π?
Apparently Aegon had the ability to make him forget that. Cool cool.
He leans in, steals a kiss that lingers just so he can forget for a while longer. ]
You got it.