Chapter 233: Chapter 233: Bothering Lucas
Lucas tried. He really did.
He turned the chair slightly, elbow braced on the armrest, and angled a stack of letters toward himself again. Most were pointless. A few had to be read. One had the royal seal, and another bore the looping handwriting of some overly poetic ambassador who couldn’t decide if they were courting him or declaring war.
He managed to open exactly one.
Trevor didn’t move from the desk.
Or the edge of the desk. Or behind his chair. Or, now, at his side, where one hand rested low on Lucas’s shoulder with all the weight and patience of a man who had absolutely no intention of being ignored.
Lucas glanced at him. "I’m trying to read."
Trevor nodded solemnly. "And I’m trying to admire you. Both difficult tasks, apparently."
"You are impossible."
"I’m married." He leaned closer, his voice lowering into something just above a murmur. "Which, I was told, comes with certain privileges. Including unlimited access to my mate’s time. And lap."
Lucas didn’t look up. "The Empire’s legal code says nothing about laps."
Trevor made a thoughtful sound and promptly pulled Lucas’s chair back a few inches, just enough to fit between him and the desk. He dropped into a crouch, eyes level with Lucas’s now, and braced his forearms against the armrests with the slow, steady assurance of a predator that had already caught what it wanted and was simply enjoying the view.
Lucas blinked at him. "Trevor..."
"You married me," Trevor said, far too pleased with himself. "You made this decision."
"And I stand by it," Lucas muttered, even as Trevor’s hands slid up to cradle either side of his waist, thumbs pressing just enough heat into the fabric of his shirt to make Lucas forget what letter he’d been holding.
"I’m proud of you," Trevor whispered, lips brushing against the base of his throat. "And I’ve waited all day. Through that endless call with Serathine. Through the road home and dinner. Through paperwork and threats and whatever Windstone told me not to do."
"You killed someone again, didn’t you?"
Trevor didn’t answer.
Lucas exhaled, leaned back in his chair, and let the envelope fall to the floor. "You are the worst distraction."
"I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to you," Trevor said, already lifting him slightly, already tugging him into his arms like Lucas weighed nothing, like they didn’t have history soaked into every thread of the clothes between them.
"You’re clingy," Lucas muttered, even as his arms wound around Trevor’s shoulders. "And dramatic."
"And completely devoted," Trevor said, voice lower now, right against his ear. "To you. To this. I’d destroy cities for less."
Lucas rolled his eyes, but the tips of his ears had gone pink.
Trevor carried him to the couch without ceremony and sank down with Lucas curled in his lap, his back pulled flush to Trevor’s chest, legs draped across the cushions. Outside the windows, the last of the light gave way to the slow velvet of night. Inside, the room held nothing but the sound of Trevor’s breath against the curve of Lucas’s neck and Lucas’s fingers tapping lightly, stubbornly, against Trevor’s wrist like he still meant to finish his work.
Trevor watched the movement of those fingers like it was the most precious nuisance he’d ever seen.
Tap. Tap. A pause. Then another flick against his skin.
Lucas didn’t even realize he was doing it. His brow was slightly furrowed, mouth parted like a thought had wedged itself between his teeth and refused to leave. He was still half in work mode, still thinking in schedules and reply drafts, still trying to recall which ambassador had sent the wrong form and which bishop had been promised a meeting and never received one.
It was adorable. And infuriating.
Trevor caught the offending hand and laced their fingers together, pressing Lucas’s palm down firmly against his own thigh like he was taming something volatile. "No more."
Lucas gave a soft breath of protest, but it wasn’t real. His head dropped back against Trevor’s shoulder, and his eyes flicked closed for half a second.
"I’m going to fall behind," he murmured, quietly.
"You’re already behind," Trevor said, nose brushing the edge of Lucas’s jaw. "Might as well enjoy the view."
Lucas hummed, not quite amused but not annoyed either. His body relaxed a little more, settling with a sigh that melted down his spine and into the shape Trevor loved most.
Trevor let his other hand drift slowly along Lucas’s hip, thumb slipping beneath the hem of his shirt in a slow circle.
"I saw you talking to Cressida’s aide," he said idly, lips ghosting over the shell of Lucas’s ear.
Lucas turned just enough to narrow his eyes up at him. "Don’t start."
Trevor only smiled. "She asked if you liked white roses or orchids better."
"She asked if I liked floral pattern curtains. Not everything is a threat."
Trevor shrugged. "It is if you let it be."
Lucas sighed again, but his hand didn’t move from where Trevor held it, and he made no effort to leave the warmth that was slowly curling around them like a net drawn tight. The fire in the grate was low but steady. The quiet of the mansion had taken on that comfortable hush of late evening, when servants moved silently, when Windstone had already reviewed tomorrow’s schedule and gone to scold someone about it.
"You really aren’t going to let me work," Lucas said at last.
Trevor tightened his grip around him and pressed a slow kiss to the curve where Lucas’s neck met his shoulder. "No," he said simply. "Because I can have anything I want now. And what I want is you."
Lucas didn’t answer right away.
His eyes were half-lidded, still shaded by the quiet tension of everything he hadn’t finished, of duties not yet checked off, of messages left waiting, of people who thought he existed to be answered. But all of that lived outside this room. Outside Trevor’s arms. And outside the fire slowly coiling in his chest as Trevor’s mouth brushed over his skin like a vow that didn’t need to be spoken again.
So he turned.
Twisting in Trevor’s lap with the same fluid stubbornness he applied to most things, Lucas braced one hand against the couch and leaned in, his other palm slipping along the line of Trevor’s jaw. His thumb brushed lightly over the corner of Trevor’s mouth.
Then he kissed him.