Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/622833.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Game_of_Thrones_(TV), A_Song_of_Ice_and_Fire_-_George_R._R._Martin
  Relationship:
      Renly_Baratheon/Loras_Tyrell
  Character:
      Renly_Baratheon, Loras_Tyrell
  Additional Tags:
      Blow_Jobs
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-01-03 Words: 1977
****** The Taste of the Universe ******
by CheyenneXeno
Summary
     Loras wants to make sure that Renly thinks only of him, and in turn
     Renly shows him what the universe tastes like.
Notes
     Someone sent me an anonymous request for a Renly fic over on tumblr
     So I used this random prompt-What does the universe taste like? (you
     guys can probably guess what that taste is winkwink)
     And I guess if you go by the ages in the books, then this could be
     considered underage, but let's just go with the show ages, shall we?
They had been arguing; it was about something ridiculous, as it always was, but
Renly could not remember for the life of him what they had been arguing about.
Something about how childish Loras had acted earlier that day when he had seen
Renly talking, just talking, to some lord’s daughter. He thought that that was
the root of it all, but Renly found it extremely difficult to recall how the
argument had started with Loras standing in front of him looking like he was,
with his arms folded across his chest, breathing heavily, trying his hardest to
look angry. But the way his lips were pouting, the way that one specific golden
curl—that fucking curl—fell over his eyes, made anger the last thing that Renly
felt. That is unless, perhaps, it was anger at Loras’s ability to look so
beautiful even with that ugly scowl across his face.
“You shouldn’t have…er…you should not have…” Renly stammered, attempting to
make Loras see just how ridiculous he was being, but his tongue seemed to have
stopped working. This was always how it went. They would argue, Loras would
pout, Renly would lose his train of thought, and they would end up crushing
their bodies together as if they would never be able to touch each other after
that moment.
Loras knew the strange power he had over Renly; he could tell by how he raised
his eyebrows at Renly now, waiting for him to go on. When he only managed to
sputter out a few unintelligible syllables, the edge of Loras’s mouth twitched
into a smirk.
And then, either unconsciously or intentionally to drive him over the edge,
Loras licked his lips. Immediately, Renly had to crush his lips against the
knight’s. The force made Loras stagger backward. One of Renly’s hands found
Loras’s hair, soft and perfect—he wanted to destroy that perfection. Their
teeth clashed together painfully, but there was no stopping it. Renly wanted to
taste him, to feel as much of him as possible. Hands were everywhere,
frantically touching everything that they could reach.
Renly pushed Loras backward until he had him pinned against the wall, running
his hands over his chest, feeling the defined muscles beneath the shirt, all
the while refusing to part their lips. He worked at the laces on the shirt,
untying them with skilled fingers. He could feel Loras’s already frantic pulse
beneath his lips as he kissed his collarbone. His fingers scratched greedily
against his shirt, wanting nothing more than to touch his bare skin.
Without warning, Loras flipped their positions, slamming Renly against the wall
slightly harder than necessary. He always seemed to forget just how strong
Loras truly was. But he loved this fight for control more than he wanted to
admit. Loras drew back slightly, biting Renly’s bottom lip, giving him enough
room to unlace the leather cords on Renly’s own shirt. As soon as the cord had
fallen, they parted just long enough to pull their shirts off.
Loras pressed himself against Renly, covering him with his heat. His smell was
like some sort of drug, beckoning Renly onward, making him want more. Renly ran
his fingers over Loras’s chest, paying extra attention to the scars that marked
his skin. There was no way to get closer, but they tried. Renly grabbed Loras’s
neck and pulled him forward once more, so that one of his knees pressed between
Renly’s thighs. He let his hand slide down to Loras’s shoulder as he moaned
into Loras’s mouth, kissing, touching every part of him.
Loras’s lips left Renly, finding their way to his ear, biting the soft skin of
his earlobe.
“Think only of me,” he whispered, his breath tickling Renly’s ear.
And Renly found it very difficult to think of anything but Loras as his hand
traced his jaw lightly, the other finding its way back down to his waist. They
slowed for a moment, staring at each other as if waiting to see who would break
first. This moment was Renly’s favorite. The scent of Loras so close to him,
the smell of the oils he wore mixed with the mint that Loras often chewed; the
underlying scent of the saltiness of his sweat; his warm breath on Renly’s
face—it was intoxicating. Renly lived for these moments; he found them almost
more intimate than the kisses or the touches that they shared behind closed
doors. But all too soon—if it was possible for their lips to meet too soon—one
of them would close the gap again. Most of the time it was Loras, he was
impatient, after all.
Renly thought that that moment was Loras’s favorite; the moment that their lips
were reunited again sometimes after hours, even days, apart. How perfectly did
every part of their bodies fit together; it was impossible for Renly to imagine
anything better. He only wished that they did not have to hide. He wished that
their kisses needn’t be in the middle of the night, always worrying that they
were not completely alone. He wondered how, after a kiss such as this, anyone
could think that what they shared was wrong. But he knew better than to let
that thought become anything more than that.
Easily enough, these thoughts were pushed from his mind as Loras’s kisses
became more forceful again. The kisses were less precise, more aggressive as
his lips trailed down Renly’s neck, kissing every inch of bare skin. His
fingers wandered again to Loras’s thick hair, tangling through the golden
strands as Loras’s lips found their way to his collarbone. He couldn’t help but
let out a groan as Loras bit his skin, tongue teasing the spot. He knew Renly’s
weaknesses. Loras bit his shoulder more roughly now. A low moan escaped his
mouth as Loras sucked the sensitive skin, running his tongue over the spot.
“Mine,” Loras growled, pressing a softer kiss on the now raw skin.
In the back of Renly’s mind he thought how ridiculous it was that Loras was so
threatened by a simple lord’s daughter when Renly was obviously his. But,
still, he had marked Renly as his. Renly’s head spun with the very thought. And
that tongue, Renly thought, the magic it was capable of, what it could do, it
was all his. No one else would get to experience this; not only was he Loras’s
but Loras belonged to him and him alone. The thought made Renly’s head as foggy
as if he had just had a pint of the darkest ale.
“Loras,” he muttered. In response, Loras let out a low moan against Renly’s
neck, sending a shiver down his spine. He would have been embarrassed by how
whiny his voice sounded, but embarrassment was the last thing on his mind as
Loras’s hand snaked down between their bodies, rubbing Renly already hard cock
through his breeches.
Without wasting any more time, Loras dropped to his knees and started unlacing
Renly breeches, freeing his cock. Loras took a moment to run his fingers over
Renly’s hipbones before planting kiss after kiss on his pelvis, on his thighs,
everywhere but the place that Renly wanted his lips to be most desperately.
“Too slow,” Renly practically growled, grabbing a handful of Loras’s hair,
trying to urge him onward. If Loras was impatient about this sort of thing,
Renly was nothing compared to him, although Renly was usually much more subtle
about it.
“Patience, my lord,” Loras muttered, looking up as Renly, a smirk playing on
those perfect lips of his.
Before Renly had a chance to answer, Loras grabbed his cock and started
stroking its length almost painfully slowly. He placed a gentle kiss on the
skin below his stomach. Renly heard a rustle of fabric that told him that Loras
had freed his own cock, but Renly’s eyes were screwed shut, reveling in the
feel of Loras’s nimble fingers. Out of seemingly nowhere Loras began to hum a
familiar melody. He found the rhythm quickly enough, stroking both of their
cocks in time. Renly knew what was coming.
For some reason, this is what he did. Renly could not for the life of him
remember why it had become something that he did, and he could scarcely
remember a time when Loras did not do this, but that did not matter. What
mattered was that he always hummed the same tune, teasing Renly with it,
refusing to bring his mouth to his cock until they reached a certain point in
the song.
Now Renly hummed along, running his fingers through Loras’s hair as he
continued to touch them both. The song continued, and the rhythm of Loras’s
fingers picked up, along with the melody. Renly looked down at Loras, through
the pleasure, knowing that it was coming. Loras smirked up at him, even in such
a position still finding a way to hold control over Renly. He leaned forward,
pressing kisses along Renly’s inner thighs, making him shudder with the
sensation of it all, humming all the while. And at last, after what felt like
ages to Renly, Loras took him deep into his mouth, tongue already at work.
Renly thought that perhaps after so many times with Loras, he should have been
ready for the feel of his mouth over his cock, hum still continuing. But he had
never gotten used to it. Each time it was as if he was rediscovering how
wonderful Loras’s tongue was, what it could do. And the humming, gods, the
humming made every bone in his body vibrate, made every flick of Loras’s tongue
feel even better, if that was possible. Everything was pure sensation. Renly
tried to focus, he always wanted to remember every detail of what was
happening, but thought was too difficult. He grabbed Loras’s shoulders, trying
to keep himself silent despite everything. Renly found it difficult to breathe,
his eyes closing involuntarily.
After only a few minutes and a skillful turn of Loras’s tongue, Renly spilled
into Loras’s mouth, riding out the waves, gripping Loras’s shoulders tightly
enough to leave marks. And then he watched as Loras shuddered as well, spending
himself in his hand, just as he swallowed deeply.
“You taste like the universe,” Loras said after a moment with a smile, planting
a kiss just below Renly’s navel.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Renly muttered still breathing heavily. He slid down
against the wall, pulling Loras to sit next to him. Loras was always like this
afterward; he got rather sentimental, but Renly enjoyed it, it amused him to no
end.
“I mean it,” Loras sighed, leaning against Renly lazily. And Renly was sure
that Loras did.
They both lay against the wall spent, sprawled out against each other with the
feeling of the cold stone on their backs. In the back of his groggily serene
mind, Renly thought that they should have probably moved to the bed, or that
they should have at least cleaned themselves up and put on their clothes, but
he could not bring himself to be too concerned by it all. Feeling Loras’s
warmth against his body, sweaty and sticky, yet not uncomfortable, hearing the
deep, content breaths beside him, the very distinct smell of their scents
intertwining in the air—he could have stayed like this forever, even if the
hard stone was uncomfortable against his back. And Loras, his golden curls a
mess, sticking to his forehead, the lazy circles he traced on Renly’s stomach,
the almost drunken half-smile playing on his lips; it was enough to drive
anyone mad.
“Mmm, I am spoiled, I have you and no one else does,” Loras said, his voice
thick with pleasure, giving Renly’s neck a rather sloppy kiss.
“And no one else will,” Renly muttered smiling despite himself, pressing a kiss
onto those messy curls.
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