#king gavin x soldier lasko

[cat-arsenal]

Hold Me Like a Grudge (Gavin x Lasko Royal AU) Ch. 13

Plot?!

Gavin perches on his desk, handing his latest diplomatic letter to Lasko to read over. He watches Lasko's brow furrow with focus, mentally traces the lines around his eyes, his nose, the slight purse of his lips. When Lasko looks up, he carefully turns his longing expression into one of academic interest.

"It sounds great," Lasko tells him, handing back the letter. Gavin grins.

"Not coming on too strong?" he asks. Lasko shakes his head.

"Just strong enough, I think. Dahlian people respond well to directness. Along with previous discussions, this should all but guarantee a meeting with leadership, if not an immediate alliance." Gavin hums, placing the letter in a sleek envelope and sending it on its way, into a puff of pink smoke. Then he fixes sharp eyes on Lasko, head tilted coquettishly.

"Is the same true for you?" Lasko blinks.

"Is...is what true for me?"

"Responding well to directness."

Lasko laughs, nervous and sweet. He looks away, hand running through his hair as he searches for a response. His aura is lovely, embarrassed and excited, and Gavin wants to devour him.

"Um, well, I-I certainly prefer it to subterfuge!"

Aw. Politics.

"So do I," Gavin replies, disappointment hidden with ease. Lasko is happy, and that's plenty. If it's always like this with them, playful and affectionate but not like that, then that's plenty. It's already more wonderful than he thought it could be.

They have dinner in Gavin's room, Gavin stealing bites from Lasko's plate and laughing at Lasko's pleased sighs.

"How is all the food here perfect?" he asks amid a satisfied stretch.

"Magic," Gavin says, wiggling his fingers. Lasko nearly chokes on his drink.

They clean up and settle into Gavin's bed so they can continue the book they'd been reading. Rather, the book Lasko had been reading and Gavin asked him to read aloud so he could listen. Lasko had been thrilled to share it with him--a rare old tome about dragons and dungeons--and while Gavin doesn't completely understand it, Lasko's bright-eyed enthusiasm is more than worth a little confusion.

"Remind me, Precious," he says from his position with his head in Lasko's lap. The nickname never fails to make Lasko blush, and he smirks. "Are these stories fact or fiction?"

"It-it's not totally clear," Lasko says after clearing his throat. "The authors treat it like real, lived experiences, and a lot of the dates match up to actual historic events, but whether or not there were actual dragons and demi-gods in attendance is, uh, debatable. It could just be mythologized, or exaggerated, or something completely made up! The mystery is part of what I like about it."

Gavin hums, closing his eyes and soaking up Lasko's happiness. It's one of those rare moments where his feelings aren't tinged with anything negative, just the joy of his interests, and of sharing them with someone. He realizes belatedly that Lasko has stopped speaking, and cracks open an eye to see Lasko watching him, expression conflicted. Gavin winks.

"See something you like, Lasko?" he teases. Lasko swallows.

"Um. Y-yeah." The admission makes them both pause. Then Lasko scoots away, leaving Gavin staring at the ceiling. He rights himself, sitting up in time to see Lasko stand.

"Don't leave," Gavin blurts.

"I'm not leaving," Lasko says quickly, hands running messily through his hair. "I'm just-just steeling myself." Gavin blinks.

"Steeling yourself for what?" He thinks he has an idea, but tries to tamp down the hope just in case.

"F-for what I...what I've wanted to do for a while now." He turns back around, head ducked, face red, and puts one knee on the bed. "Gavin," he starts, dragging his eyes up to meet the demon's. Emotion swims in his eyes and in his aura, so much fear and affection and hope that it makes Gavin feel dizzy. "Can I, um...can I kiss you?"

"Fuck," Gavin breathes, immeasurably relieved. "I thought you'd never ask."

Lasko laughs a little before leaning in, one hand on Gavin's cheek, and presses the softest kiss to Gavin's lips. It feels like the most delicious explosion, all the months of anticipation culminating in a chaste brush of skin that still makes him shiver. Lasko looks at him, amazed and adoring, and gives him another gentle but lingering kiss. This time, when he pulls away, Gavin follows, not quite meeting him.

"Lasko," he murmurs, "can I kiss you?"

Lasko laughs again, so much joy and relief that there are tears in his eyes.

"Yeah, please."

Gavin draws him closer, kissing him slow and hot and causing a quiet whimper to leave the man. Gavin smirks and leans back, pulling Lasko onto the bed and rolling them so he's partially on top of him, then kissing him all over his face and neck.

"Gavin!" Lasko yelps, shocked by the tone shift. Gavin chuckles, breath ticklish on Lasko's skin, and kisses him a few more times before letting him up and pressing one last little kiss to the bridge of his nose. "Betrayal," Lasko pants, though he's smiling.

[cat-arsenal]

Hold Me Like a Grudge (Gavin x Lasko Royal AU) Ch. 10

Gavin lays in Lasko's bed, gently running his fingers through Lasko's hair and listening to his breathing, which had gradually deepened and evened out. He'd been crying. Not hard, or long, or sobbing, just a silent cascade of tears seemingly out of the blue. Gavin doesn't know the exact cause, but he knows it comes from the deep well of sorrow that Lasko had brought with him from Dahlia, that weighed more heavily on him some days than others.

Tonight, it seems to have overflowed.

Whatever it was had such a grip on him that he couldn't--or wouldn't--speak when Gavin first arrived.

Gavin is very fond of Lasko. More fond than he'd been of someone in a long time. They have fun together, talking openly about their lives and interests, occasionally discussing politics, eating together, wandering the kingdom, getting closer and closer each day.

He wants to help him now more than he did all those months ago, when Lasko was quiet and closed-off, before he would walk the castle with confidence and initiate affectionate contact with Gavin, before Gavin had any special feelings toward him.

Lasko's feelings are always mixed, his positive moods tinged with hesitation or sadness or shame. But the ratio had been gradually changing, the pain and embarrassment lessening in the wake of happiness and curiosity. Gavin is proud to be partially responsible for that, but it isn't entirely his doing. Much of it is Lasko's own work to come out of his shell, to learn and experience life, to get to know people. He often sees him talking with servants or visitors to the castle, posture easy, and Gavin is proud.

He thinks about what Lasko had told him of his history: his peaceful childhood, unsupportive parents, devotion to the military, the weirdness of the situation that brought him to Deciderium. "Diplomatic mission," supposedly.

Gavin smirks at the thought of how he usually does "diplomacy," frowns at the memory of Lasko's terror upon their first meeting. Who had made him think that he was in danger, and why? Was it just paranoia? Misinformation?

Or something more sinister that Lasko had kept from him?

He had convinced himself that he didn't need to know what had caused Lasko's fear, as long as he made sure it didn't come true. But he begins to think investigation may be necessary.

Lasko shifts in his arms before resettling, and Gavin is struck by how much he adores him. Lasko, strong and clever and withdrawn until he lets himself relax and open up. Lasko, with his long lashes and bright eyes and broad shoulders and lips Gavin just knows are soft.

Gavin sighs.

He knows Lasko likes him. Knows very well that Lasko wants him. Knows without a doubt that he could make Lasko feel incredible, let him forget everything but the two of them for just a little while.

"I could bring you rapture," he murmurs. But Lasko is still afraid, and Gavin won't push him, not that far. It isn't right if he has to be coerced, not for either of them. "You're safe with me," he promises again, "Whatever you need."

As sunlight starts to filter into the room, Lasko blinks a few times, lifting his head to peer up at his incubus-shaped pillow. "Gavin?" he asks blearily. Gavin smiles.

"Good morning, Lasko." Lasko drops his head back onto Gavin's chest for a moment before jolting upright.

"D-did I sleep on you all night?" he yell-whispers. Gavin laughs.

"Yes," he tells him, "but you're very nice to hold, so don't worry."

"Oh. Okay." Lasko rubs his reddening face. "Thank you. F-for staying with me."

"Of course," Gavin says softly. "I'll share your bed whenever you like." Lasko laughs and gives him a half-hearted shove.

"You just say things!"

"Only things I mean," Gavin says, quiet and serious. Lasko clears his throat and looks away. 

"I need to wash my face. Then maybe we can get breakfast?"

"I'd love that," Gavin agrees, and leaves Lasko to his rituals.

[cat-arsenal]

Hold Me Like a Grudge (Gavin x Lasko Royal AU) Ch. 8

Shopping not-date! This is where it starts getting horny. I'm picturing Lasko's meal as a curry type thing, but writing about them being thirsty in public was more important than food talk.

Wrapped in a combination of his old clothes and daemon-made silk, Lasko leaves the castle grounds for the first time since arriving, arm-in-arm with the King of Desiderium. People in the market greet Gavin by name, and inquire politely about about his new "friend." Lasko blushes every time. He can practically hear the quotation marks.

"This is Lasko," Gavin replies, looking at Lasko affectionately. "He's been keeping me company, but rest assured, it's all very platonic." Lasko ducks his head and laughs. He knows Gavin is lying--they've done plenty of flirting, after all--but not to what extent. It's not like they've actually done anything beyond flirt.

They go to the engineering-slash-artisan shop first, where Lasko is poked and measured and asked questions ranging from how he lost the leg to what sort of design he'd like for the prosthetic. It makes his head spin a bit, but Gavin promises that the rest of the market won't be as stressful.

"We'll have it brought up to the castle when it's finished!" the artist calls, waving as they leave.

"Look here," Gavin says, steering Lasko toward a display of rings and necklaces, all glittering in the afternoon sun.

"A jeweler?" Lasko asks. Gavin winks.

"I did promise to get you something pretty."

"You--that--w-we were joking!"

"I never joke about jewelry, Lasko," Gavin says seriously. Then he grins and nudges Lasko toward the tent like a duck nudged toward water. Lasko goes, begrudgingly. "Pick something you like."

"I-I don't know what I like," Lasko mutters, arms crossed as he looks. "I never really...I haven't worn anything like this before." It's all strange and beautiful and too much, too fancy, too big and bright and obvious. That's the idea of jewelry, right? To be seen? But Lasko has spent his life trying not to be seen.

Gavin appears at his side, warm and soft. "If you're really uncomfortable with me getting you something, or you don't find something you like, that's okay." His voice is low and gentle, and Lasko leans into him. "You don't have to like jewelry, or being spoiled," Gavin continues, "but will you try this one on for me?"

Lasko turns to look at the necklace in Gavin's hands. It's silver, a thinner chain than most of the others, with a small blue gem. It's lovely in a subtle way, and Lasko finds himself turning around and pulling his hair out of the way.

Gavin secures the necklace, the warring sensations of cool metal and warm fingers making Lasko's skin prickle. He looks in the little mirror next to the displays, and is taken aback by what he sees.

After everything, it's still him. Same body, same face, same Lasko. But he looks healthier, somehow, more comfortable in his own skin. The shadows under his eyes are almost gone, and his hair, nearly shoulder-length, is starting to curl. He had forgotten what it looked like long. His mismatched outfit is nice, faded earth tones overlaid with bright pastels. The pendant hangs just over his heart. A thoughtful, handsome incubus peers over his shoulder.

He touches the pendant, voice failing. Gavin smiles.

"You like it?"

"Yes."

"Good. It's almost as pretty as you." Gavin slaps down a few coins and starts to walk away, leaving Lasko sputtering.

"Gavin!"

They window shop for a while, Lasko fascinated by the different items for sale, hand returning to the necklace often. Eventually, his eyes are drawn to a clothing rack.

"I do need a new jacket," he murmurs. Then he looks sharply at Gavin, who raises his hands innocently. "I will be paying for my own jacket, alright?"

"Yes, sir," Gavin chirps. Lasko snorts, turning his attention to the rack. He chooses a jacket that splits the difference between his sharp-but-plain military coat and the form-over-function fabrics Gavin and his staff wear. It's sleek and sturdy, with delicate embroidery along the sleeves and shoulders.

He is momentarily concerned about money when he goes to check out, but the clerk cheerfully informs him that they take any currency because as demons, they don't particularly need it. It's more of a hobby than a necessity for most of them; they like the different coins and papers, and will trade them with other daemons to add to their collections, or with humans in exchange for human-made things (including energy.)

"Don't see Dahlian coin often," the clerk observes with a grin. "Careful. You'll be popular around here." Lasko smiles nervously, thanks them, and scurries back to Gavin.

"I'm buying lunch," Lasko announces, "since you bought the necklace and prosthetic. And everything else," he adds under his breath. Gavin smirks.

"As you wish. Here, I'll show you the restaurants."

They choose a cafe-style place with a "secret" back patio that everyone certainly knows about. They seem to have it to themselves, though, and Lasko is grateful.

Not because he wants to be alone with Gavin, or anything! But the trip had made him tired, both of movement and people, and he needs a moment's peace as much as he needs a meal.

"Order whatever you like," he tells Gavin, who smiles, chin in hand.

"Thank you, Precious." Lasko shivers against his will. "But I don't usually eat food."

"Oh." Lasko knew that. Of course he knew that. They have meals together at least a few times a week, and Gavin rarely actually eats any of it. Somehow, in the hustle and bustle, it had slipped his mind. "I-I just thought you might. This time."

Lasko awkwardly orders his own food, then stares at his hands in his lap.

"You know what I eat," Gavin says softly. It isn't a question. There's an edge to his voice, dangerous and enticing, but no less kind than usual. "You read the book. But you knew even before that, didn't you?"

"Yes," Lasko replies, mouth dry.

"How much did you already know about incubi?"

"A-as much as anyone," Lasko hedges. "I know that you're rare. And powerful. That you feed on, um, on s-sexual energy."

"Mmhmm." Gavin's eyes trail up and down, lingering on Lasko's lips. "And do you know how we feed?"

Lasko sputters, face hot.

"W-what do you mean how? O-o-of course I know how, but that, that's, it's j-just sex, isn't it?" Gavin hums, terribly amused.

"Sex is the typical avenue, yes. But it's not the only way." Lasko perks up despite himself. "We don't need to be involved to get a meal. If we're nearby when humans are 'getting to know each other,' we can feed off of that. Or if one human is getting to know themself." He raises his eyebrows, and Lasko is rapt. "It doesn't even have to be physical activity. Desperate, unfulfilled desire makes a pretty good appetizer."

Lasko chokes on spit, and Gavin laughs before reaching over to rub his back.

"I'm sorry for teasing you," he says.

"No y-you're not," Lasko coughs, but he isn't mad. Not really. Not with Gavin smiling at him so endearingly and squeezing his shoulders.

The food arrives, and Lasko digs in, again amazed by the taste. After he's eaten a bit, he sighs, and chances a look at Gavin, who is still watching with flattering/nerve-wracking interest.

"You know," he drawls, "I think I would like some food."

"Oh! Sh-should I call the server--?"

"No, that's alright. Can I have a bite of yours?"

Oh. Oh.

Lasko is definitely sweating.

He could say no. He could get Gavin his own food, or hand him the fork and plate, or tell him to kick rocks, and Gavin would back off. Laugh and pretend it's all a joke and move on. He would let Lasko out of the bubble of their game, and think no less of him, if he didn't want to play.

But he does want to. Fuck, does he want to.

"Y-yeah. Here." He scoops a bit of the food onto the fork, then presents it to Gavin, who parts his perfect Cupid's bow lips to accept the bite with an exaggerated "mmm." Lasko watches his throat when he swallows, and hopelessly tries to keep his thoughts in check.

"Thank you," Gavin hums, and Lasko can't help but notice a bit of rice stuck just at the corner of his mouth. He could stop. He could ignore it. He could turn back to his plate and be done, but he doesn't want to. Fuck.

"You have a little--here, I-I'll get it." He reaches over, cupping Gavin's cheek and collecting the rice on his thumb. Gavin grips Lasko's wrist and holds eye contact while he takes Lasko's thumb into his mouth, brushing teeth and tongue along the pad before releasing it with a grin.

Lasko swallows. Gavin presses two kisses to his wrist before letting him go. He lets his hand drop to the table, heart pounding, food all but forgotten.

"Full?" Gavin asks brightly. Lasko nods dumbly, and Gavin smiles. "Me, too."

They walk back to the castle in near silence, fingers tangled together, and Lasko takes a long, cold shower before bed.

[cat-arsenal]

Hold Me Like a Grudge (Gavin x Lasko Royal AU) Ch. 7

CW: This chapter contains Lasko having a flare-up in his leg

Lasko wakes in the dead of night, clutching the remains of his right leg, a scream caught in his throat. It hurts, like it hadn't since he first lost it all those months ago. He digs his fingers into the spasming muscles, willing them to calm, trying to remember what the medics had taught him, trying to convince his body that his leg is gone, not freshly burning.

A whoosh at his side announces Gavin's arrival, and a glance at his face shows his shocked concern. Lasko had called him without realizing.

"Lasko," he breathes, as if a loud voice would frighten him. "What can I do?"

"I don't know," Lasko grits out. "I can't--it's the leg, th-the healers had a-a specific thing, but I can't--I can't think, it hurts...!"

Gavin reaches out, hand hovering over Lasko's leg.

"I don't know much about physical therapy," he says, "but I can help. Will you let me?"

The silence is heavy while they stare at each other. Lasko trusts Gavin. Slowly, he removes his hands and takes a deep breath.

"Please."

Gavin doesn't touch him, but he can feel his magic, warm and comforting, easing the tension in his leg, calming the raging nerves. Gradually, his leg and entire body relax, and he can finally get a full breath, which he lets out in a blustery sigh.

Gavin smiles, visibly relieved. "Better?"

"Much better. Thank you, Gavin. So much."

"You're welcome," Gavin says quietly, tucking Lasko's hair behind his ear, knuckles lingering on his cheek. "I'll look into physical therapy in the morning, maybe see about bringing in a specialist, okay? We'll take care of you."

"Okay," Lasko agrees, leaning into Gavin's touch, abruptly exhausted from the pain and magic. "I'm...I'm gonna sleep now."

"Rest well, Dearest," Gavin murmurs as Lasko drifts off.

~

They do get a specialist, who quickly sets up a modified program for Lasko that, along with his regular training, helps almost immediately. He has less pain and fewer bad days, can go longer without his cane, but his prosthetic is still ill-fitting, and long wears still tire him out.

Finally, Gavin approaches him about getting a new one.

"If you have a special attachment to that piece of wood, then I'll apologize," he says, eyes lingering on the leg Lasko reflexively tries to cover, "but I'd like to get another made for you, if you're willing. One that fits properly."

Lasko's instinct is to play it off. This one is fine, I don't need it, you shouldn't waste time/money/materials/feelings on me. But he hesitates. Gavin waits.

"Are you sure?"

"Very sure. I know how it hurts you. There's a shop in town that will be perfect."

"I can--I can pay," Lasko insists, thinking of his savings and wondering how much a custom prosthetic leg could cost. Gavin scoffs, not unkindly.

"You won't pay for a damn thing while you're my guest, Precious. I told you, it's not an issue." Lasko's face warms.

"I know that's what you said, but I-I feel like I'm not doing anything. I feel like I'm just taking, from you and the others. Isn't there anything I can do?"

"You can relax, and let me spoil you," Gavin tells him gently. "Your presence is plenty of pay." Before Lasko can protest, he adds, "But if you really want to work, I'm sure the kitchen staff would love to have you. Might have to make a trip to the market, though. Don't really need ingredients to cook with magic."

Lasko smiles, somewhat placated.

"Thank you, Gavin."

"Don't thank me for giving you a job you don't need!" Gavin laughs. "When you get tired of playing chef, maybe we can make good on your mission of diplomacy and you can regale me of Dahlia's political climate, hm?"

It's a good idea. Even if Dahlia has no real intention of of allying with Desiderium, it can't hurt to be knowledgeable.

"But first, let's go get that prosthetic."

[cat-arsenal]

Hold Me Like a Grudge (Gavin x Lasko Royal AU) Ch. 5

Lasko wakes slow, with his glasses digging into the bridge of his nose. He sits up and rights them before looking around, confused for only a moment before remembering the previous night; how since his arrival in Desiderium, it has been nothing but (mostly pleasant) surprises. The beautiful city, the warm welcome, the kindly staff, the quiet king, the luxurious bath and clothes and food and bed.

The King.

The King with sharp eyes set in a handsome face, crowned with curving horns ringed with gold, who spoke gently and forced from him neither words nor touch.

Lasko is at a loss. Before he arrived, he knew what his "job" was, knew more or less what was expected of him even if he found it reproachful. But the King--Gavin--made neither move nor comment to suggest that he, Lasko, is anything less than an esteemed guest.

He had even called Lasko his guest. Given him his own room, left him clean and fed and asked nothing of him.

Lasko can see sunlight just peeking through the single large window. His years of service had built rising early into his bones. He waits and listens, but hears no sound of life from where he sits.

So he starts his day.

He stretches until his back pops, carefully attaches his prosthetic, then moves stiffly to the kitchen sink, where he fills a pretty clay cup with water and downs his medication. Then, he washes his face and combs his hair, which had grown out in the months since active duty and regular trims. He works through his physical therapy, walks around the room a bit, then pulls his favorite book of maps--read dozens of times and flipped through hundreds--and sits down on the bed.

Book on his lap, he stares into space. He doesn't know where he should be, or what to do with himself. Both the King and servants, after showing him to his room, had simply bidden him goodnight and left. No further instructions, no list of duties, no do's and don'ts or anything.

He puts away his book, walks around the room again, and elects to explore. He hadn't been told not to, and no one had come to retrieve him or tell him anything, so he pulls on some of the clothes he brought with him and, deciding that he feels well enough to do without the crutch, ambles into the hallway.

He peers down each hall, then steps out. Fully expecting to get lost, he chooses directions at random and just walks, making note of the rooms he passes. Most of them are like his, presumably guest rooms, but devoid of guests. A few contain sleeping servants, and he hurries past them as quietly as possible.

He loses count of the rooms, and starts to hope someone will catch/rescue him from his wandering. He wants to be in his own room, but also feels that it's too late to turn back. What is he even looking for?

He starts in one direction, doubles back, then spins the other way.

Gavin has appeared, dressed somehow more casually than the night before, arms crossed, lips quirked.

"Good morning, Lasko," the King purrs.

"Good morning, Y--G--" He chokes on the last word, and Gavin politely pretends not to notice.

"Do you always get up to wander before dawn?" It isn't suspicious or accusatory, only curious.

"It was actually a little after dawn," Lasko replies, hastily adding, "I do always get up this early, but not-not to wander. Usually." He stops himself from offering an apology. Gavin grins like he was expecting one and is pleased to be wrong.

"Looking for anything in particular? Something I can help you find?"

"Oh. Um." Lasko isn't sure how to respond. Here is a King, speaking like a store clerk or someone trying to sell a house.

The thought makes him laugh. He tries to disguise it as a cough.

"Well, d-do you have a library?" He hadn't thought to ask until that moment. Gavin perks up, and motions for Lasko to walk with him. Lasko tugs his right pant leg down, and falls into step beside him.

"Our library is one of the oldest in the country, with books from all over the world," Gavin says proudly. He gives Lasko an appraising look. "Let me see...You must want the history and culture section."

Lasko blushes, feeling caught and surprised by his own reaction. Gavin laughs, warm and soft.

"No need to be embarrassed," Gavin assures him. "New place, new people? That's where I would head, in your position."

The words, meant to comfort him, are sobering. Lasko hesitates.

"Gavin," he says carefully, "Why am I here?"

Gavin gives him a long look.

"I assume you don't mean the hallway." When he doesn't reply, Gavin continues. "To 'foster friendship between our two great nations,'" he drones, then tilts his head. "That's what they told me, anyway. Is that not what you were told?"

Lasko chews his lip.

"I was told," he says slowly, "that I'm to be your companion. Not much else was said."

Gavin starts to smirk, then looks confused, then annoyed. Lasko isn't sure if it's with him, or someone else. (Lasko knows who he himself is annoyed with.) He brings one manicured finger to his delicate lips, seemingly lost in thought. Then he lets out a huff and resumes walking.

"Let me get you to those books," he says, smile not reaching his eyes.

~

They accidentally spend several hours in the library, reading and talking. How Gavin can make Lasko feel so nervous and comfortable at the same time is a mystery he's in no hurry to solve. He learns that Gavin took over rule from an old friend, who hadn't died but retired to roam the world. He learns that daemons are largely anarchic, that the monarchy is mostly a front used to communicate with outsiders.

"I'm not just a figurehead, though," Gavin tells him, brows raised conspiratorially. "This silly title comes with its fair share of perks. Decideri kings are chosen by their people, and that choice gives us their power. War or peace, trade or embargo, the king gets the final word. And the first choice of pretty things."

He lets the words hang, smiling at Lasko across the table. Just when Lasko starts to fluster, Gavin wiggles his fingers, indicating the many glittering rings.

"Like these."

They share a laugh, and Lasko hides his warm face in a book. This is nice. Gavin is flirtatious but not pushy, and the attention is unexpected but welcome. And weird. And terrifying. And improper. But he likes it. Sitting together, talking like equals. Gavin isn't just handsome and kind but clever and funny and interested, for whatever reason, in him. Maybe it's just attraction. Maybe it's only surface level teasing. And that's fine. Safe. Lasko doesn't want or need or deserve anything more.

"Can I borrow this one?" he asks, holding up one of the tomes--A History of Daemons & Demons. Gavin smiles and, sensing Lasko is ready to leave, stands.

"As many as you like." He helps Lasko gather the books--seven in total--and offers to show him to the kitchen on the way back to his room, "In case you need a snack between meals."

[cat-arsenal]

Hold Me Like a Grudge (Gavin x Lasko Royal AU) Ch.3

CW: This chapter contains fear of sexual assault, which is quickly put to rest. None of that in Gavin's castle!

The Kingdom of Dahlia sent its greatest general to the Kingdom of Desiderium.

Officially, it was a diplomatic mission. Officially, he was to be stationed in Desiderium's court to lay the groundwork for an alliance. Officially, he was just as much a general as ever. He would be sent off with honors and remembered as a hero, and received as one upon his return.

But as he packed his sparse belongings and left the little apartment that had been his sanctuary for his entire adult life, he felt as if he were condemned, a prisoner taking the long walk to the gallows.

The carriage that will take him to his new home is empty save for himself, his luggage, and the driver, who thankfully doesn't try to make conversation. Lasko isn't sure he could handle that right now. He barely managed to smile at everyone bidding farewell to him for what would almost certainly be the last time. Small talk might send him over the edge.

He tries not to think.

Lulled by the steady bump of hooves and carriage wheels, he falls asleep.

When he wakes, it is to unfamiliar sounds and smells. He reminds himself that he's in another country, chances a peek out the window, and gasps. The carriage is on a winding, sloping path. Behind and below them is a crowded market with brightly-colored stalls and people--many of them horned--weaving between. Above them rises a palace that looks like it was carved from the cosmos itself, deepest black with swirls of color and flecks of vivid white.

For a moment, enchanted by the views, he forgets why he's there.

Then the carriage stops, and he's ushered through the gates by a procession of smiling daemons who welcome him with waves and bows and offers to carry his bags. His instinct is to decline, but with one arm occupied by his crutch, he really does need the help. So he accepts, murmuring awkward thanks and limping into the palace.

Instead of being brought into a bed chamber or a grand hall or anything he expected, the welcome party deposits him in a random hallway and drifts away, promising that his bags will be in his room. He waits for a moment, utterly lost, when he feels a presence and turns around.

Before him stands a demon in silk clothing with horns wrapped in gold jewlery, sharp eyes crinkled playfully. Even if he didn't know what the man looked like, his aura and stance are telling. This demon, who appeared unceremoniously in a hallway wearing much the same outfit as his servants, is King Vindemiator, ruler of Desiderium for the last half-century.

~

Gavin smiles.

No one had told him that the Dahlian transplant was so pretty. His wide eyes and slightly-parted lips are very fetching, but all thoughts of his attractiveness vanish the moment Gavin feels the wave of apprehension coming off of him.

Gavin is used to people reacting to him in one of two ways: lust, or hate/fear. But this is different than a distrust of demons. This is bone-deep terror, a fear of someone having power over him, fear for his safety, for his--

"Your Majesty," the man says quietly, lowering his eyes. Despite his trepidation, he doesn't stutter or tremble, and when he lifts his head, his gaze is steady. "I am General Lasko Moore of Dahlia. Or, well, not a general anymore, I suppose."

The fear is temporarily surpassed by such a profound sadness that Gavin wants to pull him into his arms. Instead, he motions for Lasko to follow him.

"You must be tired from your journey. Let's get you out of those clothes." He curses his choice of words and adds, "And into something more comfortable." He leads Lasko to his private bath, a large pool set into the floor, fully stocked with soaps and shampoos, and turns to find Lasko lingering in the doorway, knuckles white on his crutch.

Lasko thinks Gavin is going to assault him.

It's a very unpleasant thought, and Gavin wonders faintly what his new charge was told that made him so fearful, so mistaken. He decides to look into the details later, and forces a smile, gesturing toward the steaming water.

"Go on. It feels incredible on sore muscles. Someone will bring you fresh clothes and let you know when dinner is ready."

Lasko moves slowly into the room, and Gavin moves toward the door. He pauses, softly promises, "I'm not going to hurt you, Lasko. You're my guest, and while you're here, nothing will happen to you that you don't want. You have my word."

He leaves the room, pleased to know that the little hitching sob that Lasko tries to muffle is one of relief.

[cat-arsenal]

Hold Me Like a Grudge (Gavin x Lasko Royal AU) Ch. 2

CW: This chapter contains Lasko coping with the loss of a limb, abuse of power, and dismissive language surrounding worth and bodily autonomy.

The Kingdom of Dahlia is known for its prosperity, but its medical technology is lacking.

Two days after the bomb exploded at his feet, Lasko wakes in a med tent with a pounding headache and a dull pain in his right leg. He sits up slowly, taking stock of his body.

Headache (probably a concussion); no burns or cuts, certainly the work of a healer; both arms, both legs, one of them burning.

No.

He throws the blanket off and stares in numb horror at the spot where his right leg ends in neat bandages at the knee.

His lower leg is gone. He can see that it's gone, but he can feel the ache in it as clearly as if it were still there, still on fire. He tries to sit up farther, but the pain of the mangled muscle and skin takes his breath away, and he falls back hard against his pillow.

He can't think about what it means right now. He needs to know what became of the others.

He calls for a medic, voice ragged, and one sweeps in quickly, looking surprised and relieved.

"What happened to the civilians?" he asks before they can ask about him. "And my squad?"

"All safe," the healer assures him. "Your troops drove off the bandits and brought you back here." Lasko exhales, relaxing somewhat, but it only lasts a moment before the healer continues, looking regretful. "We did everything we could about your leg, but it was too far gone. I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," he says quietly, fighting back nausea. "Thank you for saving my life."

The healer bows and hurries off. Lasko closes his eyes, heart sinking. His life was saved, but his leg was lost. What of his career? He had dedicated most of his life to the military, to being the best solider and commander he could be. What did a lost leg mean for that?

Magic had closed his wounds, but it couldn't bring back his leg. Technology could give him a replacement, but it would be nothing like the original. He spends the night sleepless, kept awake by pain and loss, and is fitted for a prosthetic in the morning.

The next few weeks are long and miserable.

He spends his time either resting or doing physical therapy, a combination of stretches and magic designed to minimize nerve pain and maximize mobility. The drudgery is occasionally interrupted by his visiting crew, who bring him flowers and alcohol and news from the field.

His second-in-command, who was with him at the trading post, has been serving as leader in his stead. In response to the attack, security around all trading posts has been increased. He and his squadmates have received medals for protecting the post and its people.

No one will tell him when he can return to the field. He hopes against hope that he can return at all.

He can walk well enough with a crutch, and for a short time without one, but there can be no running or crouching or complex maneuvers like before. Wearing the prosthetic for more than a few hours at a time is very painful, leaving the skin of his leg red and angry even when padded.

His body is otherwise healed, but the loss of his leg continues to dampen his spirits. He could survive without it. He would survive without it. But what will he do for the rest of his life? The military was all he had. He has the means to comfortably retire, but he would lose his mind trapped at home.

Finally, a month after the incident, someone will finally talk to him. It isn't good news.

He has just finished physical therapy when an extravagantly-dressed man steps into the room. He looks vaguely familiar--Lasko thinks he recognizes him from a parade or some other event.

Yes. His greasy, plastic smile confirms him as a diplomat, a minor noble--friend of the royal family and generous donor to every organization that might make him look good.

"General Moore," the man says, arms spread wide. Lasko moves to stand, but the man waves him off. "Oh, don't get up for my sake. Relax, be comfortable!"

"Thank you, sir," Lasko says stiffly. "May I ask what brings you to medical?"

"Why, you, of course!" Lasko feels cold. He keeps his face neutral as the man continues, pacing around the room like a preening bird. "Your reputation precedes you. Youngest and most accomplished general in Dahlia's history, adored by peers and subordinates alike...How long have you served, Mr. Moore?"

Lasko never cared for titles in conversation, but he doesn't like the way this man has dropped his. So he does the same.

"Ten years."

"A whole decade. Impressive. And you attended the academy before that?"

"Yes. Is there a point to this line of questioning?" Lasko asks. The man laughs.

"So suspicious! I'm not questioning you; I'm just making conversation!"

"You left your palace and came all the way to the edge of the kingdom to 'make conversation?'"

The man sighs dramatically and raises his hands in mock surrender.

"Alright. I didn't come to chat. I came to give you the good news!" He claps his hands together excitedly, but Lasko just stares. He's certain that whatever news this man brings can't be good.

"You won't be stuck here anymore," the man crows. "And, you'll never have to go into the field again!"

Lasko's mouth is dry, ears pounding with dread.

"What do you mean?" he asks quietly. The man smiles, clearly pleased with himself.

"You are going to Desiderium to be a companion to the king."

Companion? Desiderium is another free kingdom, populated predominantly by demons. Why would he need to go there?

The man's smug grin never fades, and he raises his arms and eyebrows like he's given Lasko an amazing present and is waiting to be thanked.

"Isn't that wonderful? You're going to be a concubine!"

Concubine? Lasko's ears are hot. Human royals haven't kept concubines in years. Not legally, at least. But what of demons?

"I," Lasko breathes, "I'm a solider. A-a general."

The man makes patronizing noises.

"Aww. Not anymore."

Lasko stands abruptly. The military has been his life. Dahlia has been his life. And now this bureaucrat is threatening to take all of it away.

"You can't. You c-can't send me away, strip me of my rank."

"I can, and I am."

"Who authorized this?" Lasko snarls, fists shaking at his sides.

"His Majesty," the man replies airily. It's then that Lasko recognizes him as Alberto, the king's favorite nephew. Very few people outrank the top general, the King of Dahlia chief among them. Meaning Lasko can't argue. His life is over.

The fight drains from him. His shoulders slump, and he drops his head, a thousand terrible scenarios running through his mind.

"Why?" he finally whispers.

"You're a liability. What good is a solider who can't carry their own weight? This is the best way you can serve your country now." Lasko doesn't respond, and the man shrugs on his way out. "Cheer up, Moore. There are worse things than being an incubus' toy."

[cat-arsenal]

Hold Me Like a Grudge (Gavin x Lasko Royal AU) Ch. 1

Figured I should put this here for folks who don't have AO3/prefer Tumblr. (I usually post here first? Backward.)

The Kingdom of Dahlia was small but prosperous. It had remained independent for centuries despite numerous attempts by other nations to either annex or destroy it, a feat achieved due to its perfect location: guarded on three sides by impenetrable mountains, with abundant access to fresh water and rich soil, and protected on the final side by the legendary Dahlian military.

The military was set apart by its inclusion of magic users. While some other countries did count mages in their ranks, it was often with very tight restrictions, and they were frequently separated by type into specific units. Some countries disallowed mages from serving alongside "normal" troops, while others would only accept "pureblood" mages.

The Dahlian military was famous for accepting nearly all applicants, a practice which began in the kingdom's infancy, when they were a tiny, beleagured nation with little choice but to take anyone willing to fight. In Dahlia, if one was of age and able to carry a weapon, they could become a soldier. Empowered or non, pureblood or humanborn, all were free to protect their kingdom and people.

Patriots would have you believe that the same was true for civilians in Dahlia. That every individual was treated as an equal, worthy and important in their own right. But in actuality, it wasn't even true for every solider, try as their leaders might to make the image reality. Magic users of every kind were allowed to serve in any role, as long as they proved their abilities. Even daemons occasionally appeared in the ranks. But if one was unlucky, they may find themself under a small-minded commander with prejudices and the power to wield them.

Or, they might find themself tossed out of their home at a tender age when what might have been a joyous occasion for many--the manifestation of their magic--drove a wedge between them and their unempowered parents.

Lasko Moore, greatest general of his time, was one such child.

He was, for a time, his parents' pride and joy. Their only child, so gifted with math and art and history and technology it hardly mattered that he was nervous and struggled to make friends. Everyone assumed that he would wind up with a job at the university, teaching or administering or perhaps something mechanical.

His interest in the military was unexpected, but not unacceptable. After all, soldiers were well-respected and well-paid. Who wouldn't want a soldier for a son? Young Lasko was set to make his parents ever more proud.

Except for the magic thing.

He should have been happy. They should have been happy. Elementals were favored for their association with, and partial control of, the natural world. So why did they look disgusted? Why did they shout?

He tried to make them happy, or at least stop looking at him like he was some kind of invader in his own home. It was like a few years before, when he had casually mentioned liking boys, except somehow worse. Maybe because he could "pretend to be straight." He tried to "pretend to be unempowered," too, but his feelings affected his magic, and his magic affected his surroundings, and it finally became too much for all of them.

He left.

He joined the military academy a year early by claiming to be older than he was, a lie aided by his height and weary determination. He threw himself into his studies, honed his magic, and graduated at the top of his class, entering the forces at an already high rank and achieving the title of general in record time, where he led and inspired his fellows for years.

His skills and consideration led to him frequently being given the "miscellaneous" soldiers--those who were younger, older, afraid, overeager, wielders of unusual magic, injured--and he trained them well, earned their respect and loyalty. They were as much a family as some of them had, and they had each other's backs, always.

Though there were no full-scale conflicts at the time, Dahlia was constantly raided by smaller groups--bandits, warmongers, spies--and Lasko and his troops were known far and wide for their ability to drive off those groups with minimal bloodshed. They were legendary fighters who rarely ever killed, which made them popoular with some and reviled by others, who believed that anyone considered an "enemy" deserved death.

If someone had to be killed, a prisoner or someone who refused to back down, Lasko would do it himself, as quickly and cleanly as possible, so his troops didn't have to, and didn't let them know how it felt. Though he shared some of himself with them, cared for them and was cared for in turn, he kept a certain distance, both his duty as a commander and his old struggle to be close to people. It worked well enough, and he was truly happy and proud.

But, he supposes, it couldn't last forever.

It was a beautiful spring day when Lasko took a small squad to guard a trading post near the border. Things were largely peaceful, with only a few caravans passing by at all, and no scuffles or disagreements to break up. In fact, he was preparing to send everyone home when he felt a powerful, and malicious, aura. He looked around sharply and shouted for the civilians to take shelter in the post's armored shell, and in the moment his eyes weren't on the road, they attacked.

Raiders.

There were only four of them, outnumbered by Lasko's group, but among them was a demon. Lasko had fought a demon only once before, but it was in training at the academy; he had since gotten together for drinks and cards with that demon a few times, met their friends and family and squadmates, and he thinks of their gentle, friendly demeanor as the raiding demon slams an ice-covered fist into his face, sending his glasses flying along with a spray of blood.

He gets a shield up a moment too late, still managing to put distance between them as their allies clash with his.

Swords and guns won't work against demons, and even empowered humans can't take them down on their own, but Lasko knows himself, knows he can at least hold this one until the civilians get clear and his troops handle the other raiders. He has full confidence in them, has to so he can concentrate on the person attacking him with claws and magic.

They're wearing him down, but he's keeping their attention, and that's enough, right up until the other raiders start to flee and throw something to the demon, who catches it, takes a few steps back, and tosses it at Lasko's feet before joining their allies. Lasko looks down in time to see a vanishing fuse, and then everything goes dark.

[cat-arsenal]

If y'all haven’t read my Gavin x Lasko royal AU thing yet, I finally got back to it with two new chapters and ~relationship upgrade~

Also why do my AO3 links keep being weird

AND WHY DO THINGS KEEP POSTING TO MY ART BLOG

[cat-arsenal]

Hold Me Like a Grudge (Gavin x Lasko Royal AU) Ch. 6

Weeks go by like that, Lasko reading, exercising in his room or the gardens, getting to know the staff, the castle, Gavin.

"Go wherever you like," the King had told him. "If you get lost, or want some company, just call me and I'll be there."

"Call you? How?"

"With your heart," Gavin said softly, hand on his own chest. Then he cracked a grin. "With your head, actually. Telepathy. You know how?"

"Yes," Lasko replied. "I used it with my teams."

"Wonderful."

Lasko is very careful from then on not to let his private thoughts about Gavin reach the other man. It takes a while for him to work up the nerve to actually reach for him, and when Gavin reaches back, it's strange and exciting. His thoughts are like his voice and eyes, smooth and sparkling, and Lasko finds himself enjoying their telepathic conversations, late at night or from opposite sides of the castle or in the same room, making occasional eye contact and smiling like they're sharing secrets.

It makes him feel giddy in a way he can't quite be ashamed of.

How long has it been since he had a friend? He was friendly with plenty of people, very fond and protective of his fellow soldiers, but he couldn't share himself with them, not fully. Somehow, of all the people in the world, he can share himself with Gavin.

And Gavin can share himself with Lasko.

Lasko learns that Gavin is somewhat lonely, despite being regularly surrounded by people that he likes. Despite his efforts to the countrary, a distance does exist between him and his subjects. It isn't as deep or cold as that between most monarchs and peasants, but it affects him nonetheless.

He learns that Gavin wasn't thrilled to take the title, that it was more a favor to his friend that he expected to shuffle onto someone else within the year. No one was more surprised than Gavin that he turned out to be a pretty good king, and with the support of his people and pressure from other nations, he begrudgingly stayed on.

"Then fifty years went by in a flash," Gavin says, gesturing broadly and then stretching out on Lasko's bed, tail waving happily. "Mm, your bed is soft."

"It's the same as your bed," Lasko laughs.

"Yeah, but yours feels like you." Before Lasko can sputter a response, Gavin continues, eyebrows waggling suggestively. "Speaking of...Surely a general has countless tales of conquest."

Lasko coughs, and a rainbow of feelings come off of him; amusement, hesitance, regret, with a tiny dash of excitement.

"I had other things to worry about," he says humbly, fingers plucking at a stray thread on Gavin's shirt. "Things that took precedence over...well." He looks away, smiling a little. Embarrassed. A common feeling for him.

Gavin presses.

"You're telling me that the great General Moore never had anyone to warm his bed? I assumed people would throw themselves at you."

Lasko's mouth tightens. He's upset, but not at Gavin.

"Not since before I was a general," he says simply. "It's not like I didn't have offers," he continues. "I wouldn't say anyone threw themselves at me, but there were a few...temptations. I just didn't--I couldn't have--" He scrubs his hands over his face and sighs.

Gavin waits.

Finally, Lasko looks at him, the wear and tear of years "keeping it together" written all over him.

"There were already rumors and expectations. Officers aren't forbidden from, uh--"

"From fucking?" Gavin supplies.

"Yes, from fucking. Thank you, Gavin. It's not prohibited or anything, but there is kind of a-a stigma to it, and I couldn't afford that. Not when I already had people waiting for me to screw up."

He lays down next to Gavin, chin on his hand, and smiles before Gavin can offer comfort.

"It wasn't all bad, though. I got to travel, and study, and protect people. Not a lot of jeweled rings to choose from, though."

Gavin laughs, surprised.

"I'll get some for you, then."