Edward shook his head faintly. "There is nothing on my mind that you need to worry about." he replied softly, leaning closer to Sabbas. His gaze flicked, just for a moment, to Sabbas's mouth, tracing his lips, and then his cheeks warmed and he looked back up to Sabbas's peepers, to his hair, anywhere but his mouth. God, he felt like a schoolboy with a first crush, and he could hardly understand it. But then again, Sabbas was…decidedly different from the previous men that Edward had felt things for. Those affairs had been different. Far slower-moving, far more subtle.
He couldn't ignore where Edward's peepers were looking. He didn't know where to look himself. "Perhaps your heart then?" He wondered, staring off to the side. His peepers flickered back. He didn't know where to look. peepers…lips…Sabbas breathed. Not once could Sabbas ever recall having such a moment with previous encounters. Most, if not all, of them were for ulterior motives. Now, he can barely look at Edward without his heart stopping. He was surprised how his legs haven't become wobbly. It's a miracle that he has yet to fall over. In an (almost) absent-minded way, his right thumb was brushing the edge of Edward's bottom lip. It was softer than silk. How can someone be so precious, so divine? His own bottom lip stuck out in a pout.
Edward shifted faintly, moving just a little closer to Sabbas. "I…would like…" he trailed off. COuld he even ask for this? How could he think to ask for this, of all thigns? But yet, he wanted it. He wanted it, damn him. He was damned, all things considered, and if he were already going to heck, then…well, perhaps he had best make it count. "I believe my heart says that I would like a kiss." he replied softly, lips twitching in a faint smile as he watied for a reponse from Sabbas. Waited to see if Sabbas would give him a kiss. He could not imagine Sabbas would deny him, but yet…oh, he just hoped that the Spaniard did not deny him a kiss.
"A kiss?" Sabbas smiled. Heaven knows that he would give him more than just a kiss, but he also would only do what Edward was comfortable with unless the king wanted more. The more he remained still, the more warmer it became. It was undeniable how much heavier his heart was pounding. He tilted his head so he could press his lips against Edward's. It was gentle yet firm, but he had to hold himself back from his eagerness. Edward's felt sweet and pillowy. He thought that it had felt better moving against his lips compared to burshing against his thumb. Sabbas's lips moved slowly before being pulled away. He let out a shaky breath. His chest rose up and down with each heavy exhale. "Now tell me," He whispered, "What does your heart say then?"
Edward returned the kiss softly, still holding onto the Spaniard. When Sabbas pulled away, and asked another question, he exhaled softly, leaning his forehead against the taller man's. "Mm…I believe that another one is in order?" he replied, mouth pulling in a faint smile. That soft kiss had managed to chase away the worries of God and man and sin, heaven and heck and what his actions would cause. Now he was just here. Present. In the arms of a handsome man, alone in his bedroom, with no one's peepers but Sabbas's on him, and he could live quite happily with that.
"Just one?" Sabbas whispered, "I can give you a mega-bunch kisses if you ask. As many as you want and wherever you want them…" After laughing softly, he gave Edward a quick peck. Even a little kiss sent his heart soaring to the sky. His hand rested on the king, cupping his cheek. Then he went in for another brief kiss. Then another and another until it was impossible for his lips to leave Edward's. They brushed against each other. He couldn't pull away because he didn't want to. It was only him and Edward, together. Sabbas couldn't be more closer to him than the way they were now. To be in this little world of theirs, he loved it and he didn't want to step out of it.
(sorry for the wait!)
Edward's lips curled in a soft smile, and he kissed Sabbas back as the Spaniard gave him another, and another, and then they just…didn't stop. And he was… he was fine with that. He pushed thoughts of God and prayers and sin to the back of his mind, fingers curling into the soft fabric of Sabbas's clothing as he pulled the other man closer, head tipping faintly as he returned those kisses with a gentle, almost worshipful fervor of his own. Everything else could fall away, when it was just the two of them here in his chambers. He didn't have to be his majesty. He could just be Edward.
The thought of moving away from Edward was impossible. There was nowhere as divine as being with the king. His hands were tightly wrapped around Edward's waist. Excitment left his lips buzzing as his heart was pounding out of his chest. It swooned when he was being pulled closer to Edward. Sabbas swooned over any and everything about His Majesty. Most if not all of his thoughts were comprised of Edward to some extent. Eventually his lips broke away. He tried to regain his consuming oxygen to produce carbon dioxide but could not afford to keep his lips away. What was a small brief kiss to the temple turned into a trail of kisses going down to the left side of the king's neck.
Edward smiled happily at the kisses, though his breath caught as the kisses turned into a trail down his neck, shifting a little and angling his head to allow Sabbas easier access. His arms were still wrapped around the Spaniard, still holding him as close as he possibly could while the ambassador pressed kisses along his skin. This was… not how he had originally thought that his relations with the Spanish ambassador had gone. He had thought that it would be like with any other ambassador. But, well, clearly it was not. Not that he was complaining about that. He was very much enjoying this.
For the longest time, Sabbas had been staring at the portrait of a king. Edward. He'd stare at it whenever he met with the English ambassador then go about his day. Sometimes all he thought about where those blue peepers. Other times he thought of nothing. Not once had he considered the possibility of kissing this king. He hadn't dreamed of feeling Edward's pulse underneath his lips as he kissed the side of the king's neck. The Spaniard couldn't imagine wanting to be anywhere else other than in Edward's embrace. After all, he's just some bastard who was sent to maintain diplomatic relations and serve this king as well.
There was no inch of skin on the neck left bare. His lips were slow, yet they left kisses everywhere possible. What he said was true: Sabbas would kiss Edward everywhere. He would do so a mega-bunch times if he could. Once again, he had to break away. The ambassador leaned over whispering into the king's ear, "How can you be so divine, Edward?" Then he kissed him on the cheek twice in between breaths. "You have lit a fire in my heart. I'd say that I wish to kiss you again, but I fear that we would be here all moonlit hours."
(hnnn sorry for the really long wait)
Edward was just absolutely putty in Sabbas's arms, leaning into him and trying not to get too loud or, well, obvious in how sensitive he was to this whole thing. He hadn't really been treated like this before, and it was so strange to feel. But he was loving it, as evidenced by the way he grabbed at Sabbas's clothing, pulling him closer and leaning into him. "I have…nowhere to be. If we were to be here all moonlit hours, I cannot say that I would protest it." he replied faintly, peepers half open as he loooked up at Sabbas. "For if I said that, I would be a liar."
(no worries, it's all good!)
He wouldn't mind being with Edward till the sun comes up. The feeling of the king's fingers, pulling at his clothes, bringing them together was enough to stop his heart. "As long as this is something you wish…Us in each other's arms, enjoying each other's company…" His peepers lingered on Edward. Between the king's grip, gaze, lips, and practically everything else, his entire face was flushed. The monarch could just consume oxygen to produce carbon dioxide and it would cause him to be head over heels. Carefully, his finger twirled a strand of that angelic blond hair. Sabbas breathed, "Edward, I desire nothing more than to be here with you all moonlit hours, yet I would like to know if this is alright with you and that you are alright as well."
Edward hummed faintly, opening his peepers to stare up at Sabbas's face, gaze tracing along his cheekbones and down to his lips, staring for a long, long moment at the other man's soft lips, the ones that he had felt all over his face and down his throat, whose touch only a few days ago he had been completely and totally unfamiliar with. And here they were now, in circumstances so different than he could have ever expected. "I am…more than alright with it." he replied softly. "There is, indeed, nothing that I could desire more, than for you to spend the rest of your moonlit hours here with me."
There was no one as perfect as the man, the monarch who stood in front of him. Everytime the Spaniard stared at the king, he was swooned. He just wanted to worship him with his lips, gently pressing every inch of skin possible. His heart kept fluttering as he watched Edward's gaze. Even the soft light in the king's peepers were perfect. God was he head over heels for him. Sabbas whispered, "Even when our moonlit hours is over, I am yours, Edward." Then he kissed the king on the forehead before leaning in to whisper in his ear, "And I wish to spend many more nights with you."
Edward reached up to cup Sabbas's cheek, running his thumb along his cheekbone, feeling his skin beneath his fingers. "And I would love to do the same." he responded in a soft whisper. God, this still felt too good to be true. It… it could not be true. Was this some strange, vivid dream, that he would awaken from in the morning feeling as if he had been doused in fire? He hoped not. It felt sacrilegious to pray that that was not the case. But he could hope that that was not the case.
The delicate touch of Edward's hand rivaled that of being touched by God. Sabbas wanted to worship, love him in every way he possibly could. Right in this moment, it felt like the rest of the world did not exist and it was just the two of them. He smiled, "Then I shall love you every moonlit hours. Kiss your lips and feel your soft skin underneath the moonlight. Be together, wrapped in each other's arms…" Slowly, he brushed his fingers through those golden strands. Oh how he loved the feeling. If this were a dream so God help him. If it was a dream, he would spend the next morning praying for it to be a high-res hallucination.
This could not be a dream. God did not send him dreams such as this, did not send him dreams that were so pleasant and loving and gentle. So, well, what could he do beyond accept that this must be real? This time spent together, these gentle touches and soft words, must be real. For what else could this be? "And what bonita nights they shall be." he replied in return, still leaning into the Spaniard's arms, a soft smile on his lips.
