Prince Of Stone - A Captive Prince Fanfiction

XIII. Dreams of Surrender

Damen said, "I don't mind damnation. Not if it's with you."

He was standing, now. Looking down at Laurent as dawn broke and soft light spilled through the curtains of the hotel balcony, lighting Laurent's lashes to pale gold.

He felt the moment the air shifted between them as Laurent said, softly, "Tell me why."

Damen shook his head, unable to form the words. "Earlier, you said we weren't friends."

"Am I wrong?" Laurent said, almost breathlessly. He was standing very close. Damen ached to lean in and close the distance between them, to pull Laurent's body against his own and run his hands through the fine blond hair that fell to Laurent's collar.

"Laurent, I--"

And then Laurent grabbed Damen by the front of his shirt and drew him towards himself. Their lips met, once, briefly.

Damen withdrew quickly, pulling back to see Laurent's face, to try to understand.

Laurent's eyes were darkened, his pupils dilated and his lips parted slightly. The hair at his nape was slightly ruffled, Damen noted with delight.

Seemingly of it's own accord, Damen's hand reached for Laurent's waist to pull him closer--

And Laurent lurched back, out of Damen's reach. He was shaking with anger.

"You think I'd let you touch me?" He spat. "Let you fuck me? You killed my brother, you Akielon bastard. You're not fit to lick the dirt off my YSL leather boots."

Damen paused. "You wear leather? I would have pegged you as the vegan leather type."

"You won't be pegging me at all."

Damen considered him. He said, "Laurent, I am sorry for what I did to Auguste. And I'm sorry it's made it difficult for you to trust me. Tell me what I can do to make this right."

Laurent slitted his eyes. "There is something. But you have to give me complete control."

Damen couldn't help but be intrigued. He nodded, once, knowing even as he did so that they were in a race against time with The Regent, and that they stood to lose everything in the space of a moment.

And yet. If this was what Laurent needed--to enact revenge on Damen to regain some semblance of control so he could beat The Regent in his own game--Damen would give him that.

~

It was with some trepidation that Damen opened the door to the tattoo parlour, Laurent smugly silent as he followed behind.

"You're not coming in with me." Damen grumbled, already knowing it was useless.

"Oh yes, I am," Laurent purred, pleased with the form of torture he'd selected as Damen's recompense. "I'm paying for your tattoo. I want to watch your face."

"You are twisted," Damen said, but not without humour. He didn't mind getting a tattoo, not really. Not if it meant Laurent would forgive him.

He regretted that thought the moment the tattoo artist began the design. From the size of the stencil, it seemed Laurent had thought out an elaborate tattoo.

Damen sat straddling the tattoo chair. Laurent, smirking, settled himself against the wall opposite Damen, watching him languidly. "We should tie you down," he remarked.

Damen ignored him. As the needle passed over his skin again and again, what began as a scratching ache erupted into steady, dull burn. It was all he could do not to grit his teeth as he averted his eyes from Laurent's flinty gaze.

"I've never had someone sit so well for so long," said his tattoo artist once it was finished. Damen craned his neck, but the artist tutted in protest. "You'll strain your neck. Let me fetch you a mirror."

Damen had been expecting--he knew not what. Something ridiculous. A kitten, perhaps, or Laurent's own name. Hell, Laurent had a thing for ownership, and he'd demonstrated it more than once with the handcuffs and leash. It hadn't been like that, Damen knew, but some part of him wanted to file away those memories for perusal at a later time.

What he had not expected was a sprawling, banner-mosque lion tattoo designed like a royal coat of arms. It was done in shades of red and gold, with stylized slash marks through one corner of the design.

"I thought those would hurt you the most," Laurent said, watching him.

Damen flexed his muscles and nearly gasped at the discomfort. He wasn't sure how he was going to put on a shirt, let alone sleep until the tattoo had healed.

Laurent turned to the tattoo artist. "Thank you, Pascal. Your work is unparalleled, as always."

~

As they left the tattoo shop, Laurent having parted with a hefty sum of money for Damen's tattoo, Damen turned to him. "What did you mean, as always? Has Pascal given you a tattoo before?"

"I can see you're upset at the thought of another man touching me," Laurent said coolly.

Damen shoved that aside, his curiosity winning out. "Laurent, do you have a tattoo?"

Laurent gave a small, very uncharacteristic smile. "Help me win against my uncle and you may just find out."