Too many times Loras woke up, panting with a combination of fear and grief; patting the linens beside him to feel for the soft skin of Renly. Though whilst he was alive, they never spent too many nights together; Loras always reasoned that it was far too dangerous, someone could always walk in on them, making it so that they would never be able to see each other again. Being their type of ... people wasn't exactly quite acceptable at this point in time. There could be no public displays of affection; no making of their plans in public; no even speaking together in public!
But, together, they always managed.
They would sneak away whenever they got the chance, sex always being on their mind. Fingers would lace, light pressure being applied; sweat-slick bodies sliding together; lips always touching, but not always locked in a desperate, searching kiss. Afterwards, when they had both come to be finished and relaxed in that warm, silky bed, they would idly talk. Loras would talk about one of the upcoming tournaments, and whom he could possibly going up against, whilst Renly would complain about Robert, and how Stannis was just as dull as ever.
Complaining about Robert and Stannis led to Loras wrapping his lean arms around Renly's neck; pulling him down into a heated kiss; a silent way to reassure him that he was better than both of them combined. Everything would be all about sex for a long time, until one of them got called away.
But, they also would meet during the night, too; lust was the last thing on their minds at night. Sometimes, they would have a slow, and loving go at each other, but most of the time it was just cuddling. Loras would often be tucked inside of Renly's grasp, feeling Renly's soft, slim hands map out his abdomen. Lords would let him do it; feeling those fingers touch each lean muscle that ridged underneath his skin.
Compared to his hands, Loras' own were calloused and rough. Years of holding a sword; being knocked into the dirt; struggling to do each and every task he was given made them tough. His hands told a tale of hardship; a tale of work, and a tale of how he lived his life as a worker, someone who put effort into achieving his own goals. Renly's hands told a tale of a soft life; living like a Lord, hardly having to leave his home. Renly never got down in the dirt; never worked to earn his titles; everything had been handed down to him at birth.
Yes, Loras had been high-born as well, but becoming a Knight took work!
For hours at night, they would lay there, wrapped up in each other and feeling each others skin. Loras would thoroughly enjoy when it came his turn. The feeling of his callouses running across Renly's soft skin made him shiver with a mixture of pleasure and delight; the slight smile that would pull up his lips would make Loras grin in return.
Gods, those were the days.
When Renly had declared himself King, most of it had been put to a stop. There was no more of that; no more sneaking away, no more shared nights together. Though he was jealous of his sister getting to spend more time with Renly than he did, Loras never raised his voice; he kept quiet, knowing that when this stupid War was over .. everything would go back to normal.
Normal.
How he had been so wrong!
Images of Renly's death played within Loras' mind every single night. As he slept, he would dream of it; the look on Renly's face as something was plunged through his chest, the blood that would splurt from his mouth; even the way that he would hit the floor. And every single night, Loras would awaken; gasping in horror and struggling to get his breath. His hands would search across the linens, desperate for the silky skin that belonged to Renly.
And every night, he would find nothing but cold sheets.
