Page 92 of The Broken Dawn

"What do you want, my love?" He asks

"Touch me." Jakob says, staring deeply into Hal's eyes.

"I am." Hal says, but makes short work of Jakob's belt and trouser buttons, bringing them skin to skin with a few, quick tugs.

"Then take me," Jakob breathed, his hands fisting in Hal's shirt. "Like the oath. Make it real." His forehead pressed against Hal's, desperate. "If this is our last night together before..." he lets his voice trail off "… then I want to feel you inside me."

The words send a shiver down Hal's spine. This is Jakob offering himself completely, body and soul. For the first time, their only time together, before war takes him away.

"Have you done it before?" He asks, bending to mouth along the edge of Jakob's cock, just the softness of his lips and his breath. Jakob looks down and gives him a dirty look. "To yourself, I mean." Hal says.

Jakob blushes and nods. "Yeah," he says quietly. "Yeah, I've... yes."

Did you like it? Hal wants to ask, as if the way Jakob was begging for it isn't enough of an answer. Would I like it? A small voice wonders in the back of his head, flushing hot and cold at the idea of having Jakob inside of him, closer than he'd ever thought possible. But not tonight. Tonight he has a promise to keep.

Jakob stretched awkwardly, trying to reach under the mattress while lying on his back, his arm disappearing into the narrow space between the bed and the overstuffed mattress. He fumbled around for a moment, his face scrunching in concentration.

"It's... somewhere under here, I have oil" he muttered, half-embarrassed, half-frustrated. "To ease the way..."

Hal couldn't help the quiet laugh that escaped him. Here was Jakob - always so controlled, so prepared for everything - completely undone by a simple bottle of oil hidden in his own bed.

"Here," Hal said, reaching over to help, but Jakob finally emerged triumphant, holding up a small glass bottle with a slightly sheepish grin.

"Not exactly the smooth seduction I was aiming for," Jakob admitted, his cheeks flushed.

"I like you flustered," Hal said softly, leaning down to kiss him again. "I like you real. You're so..." Hal whispered, pressing his mouth to the hollow of Jakob's throat, tasting salt and something uniquely Jakob. "God, you're beautiful."

Jakob's hands found Hal's hair, threading through the golden strands as Hal's lips traveled lower. When Hal's mouth found his nipple, Jakob gasped, his back arching off the narrow bed.

"Hal," he breathed, and there was something desperate in the way he said it, like he was memorizing the shape of the name on his tongue.

Hal took his time, memorizing the sounds, the feelings, what made Jakob tremble and what made his breath hitch. The way the muscles in his belly jumped when Hal's teeth grazed his hipbone.

"I want to remember everything," Jakob whispered against Hal's temple. "Every touch, every..."

His words dissolved into a moan as Hal's hand drifted lower, and suddenly the oil wasn't forgotten anymore, wasn't just sitting on the bed beside them. It was necessary, urgent, the next step in this dance they'd been moving toward for months.

"Ssh." Hal whispered, pressing the tip of his finger to the soft skin of Jakob's hole. "Relax. Just let me give you this." He could hear Jakob take a shivery breath, almost a gasp as he pushed his finger in and felt Jakob's body clench around it. He's so tight, and it's so soft and hot and slick inside. He moved his finger a little, experimentally and Jakob moaned. He pressed more, opening him up and stretching him, feeling his body's warmth and heartbeat around his finger.

"Good?" He asks. He can hear the movement of Jakob's hair against the pillow as he nods.

"More." Jakob whispers, and it's a command rather than a request. How can he do anything but obey?

The clutch of Jakob's body around his two fingers left him breathless with arousal, and he hadn't touched his own cock yet. He moved his fingers gently, stretching, turning them, listening to the way Jakob's breath caught, to the whispered moans and whimpers coming from him to know what to repeat, how to press and arch and stretch.

"Hal," Jakob gasped, back arching off the narrow bed. His hands fisted in the sheets, knuckles white with tension. "Hal, please, I need—" His words dissolved into a broken moan as Hal's fingers brushed something inside him that made his whole body shudder.

"Tell me," Hal whispered, pressing kisses to the inside of Jakob's thigh. He could feel Jakob trembling beneath his lips, could taste the salt of his skin. "Tell me what you need, my love."

"You," Jakob managed, reaching down to tangle his fingers in Hal's hair. "Just you. Please, my sweet prince, I need—" His voice broke on another moan as Hal's fingers moved inside him again.

Hal's free hand fumbled with his own trousers, suddenly desperate to feel Jakob against him and around him, to be as close as they could be. He needed this – needed to mark Jakob as his, needed to be marked in return. Needed something to remember when the palace walls closed in around him again, when duty and crown threatened to suffocate everything that made him Hal instead of Crown Prince Harald.

The first long, slow press inside stole both their breaths. Hal moved slowly, reverently, watching Jakob's face for any sign of discomfort. But Jakob just pulled him closer, legs wrapping around Hal's waist, urging him deeper with whispered pleas that slipped from Swedish to English to Russian as Hal filled him completely.

"Moyo solnitsya," Jakob breathed against Hal's neck, his voice breaking. "dusha moya..." The Russian flowed from his lips like a prayer, each word punctuated by the rhythm of their bodies. Hal couldn't understand the words, but he felt their weight, their devotion, in the way Jakob's fingers dug into his shoulders, the way his voice trembled with more than just pleasure.

"Jakob," Hal gasped, overwhelmed by the heat of him, the way Jakob's body welcomed him in, the sacred trust of that moment.