Work Text:
The truth was that you have never been a huge fan of tea. The taste was alright most times, if you really forced yourself to enjoy it for a moment. You wouldn't call it overrated though; after all, you could easily see why some people might enjoy it so much.
First of all, the warm liquid heated the porcelain of the cup in a way that felt enjoyable against the skin, especially when the cold was so intense it seemed to slip into your bones — blame it on the humidity that came with living in a nation surrounded by bodies of water.
Secondly, it was a nice activity to indulge in when craving an easygoing outing with friends. A warm cup of tea and chatters; it sounded delectable.
And yet, other than superficially admitting those pros to yourself, you still struggled to enjoy tea. No matter the fragrance, or the cakes that usually were bought to accompany it, tea still tasted bland to you. You kept drinking it in hopes of changing ideas, as if a new day might come with a new feeling to your taste buds.
Some might call it being a contrarian but, to you, the reasons behind your insistence were more of sentimental nature: one day you had simply realized that a beautiful pair of pale blue eyes made tea taste somehow better. Quite sappy perhaps, especially with the way you stared at said eyes like your entire being started existing solely when reflected upon them.
Overly saccharine thought that matched the excessively sweet tea you were currently attempting to drink.
"... so?"
Wriothesley called, with a bit of a frown and an amused expression. Only then you had noticed he had been talking to you, while you were too busy staring at the amber tea in your cup like it had personally offended you. You blinked once, twice...
What was the topic again? Your mind was a fog, the aftertaste of the tea hovering on your tongue. Honeybush, you noted.
The last thing you remember hearing was Wriothesley's comment about the weather, something about how the seasons felt like they were slipping by. Since becoming the Duke's drinking buddy — strictly sticking to tea and no other beverage, you had learnt that he loved hearing you speak about the Overworld, always intrigued in whatever was happening up there while he spent his days between documents, calculations, and patrols around the Fortress.
You finally looked at him, drinking in the way he looked so relaxed with a cup of tea in his hand. It definitely made you crave a taste, hopeful as ever that one more sip was going to change your tastes.
"... It's a nice day outside," you stated with the calmest tone possible, an attempt to hide how little focused you were at the moment.
"Oh I'm sure that is the case, lovely weather and all, but that's not what I had asked," Wriothesley chuckled, shaking his head in pure amusement.
Ah got it wrong, you distractedly thought, forcing yourself to smile along — awkward with how exposed you felt under the scrutiny of his gaze.
"I must admit that I got distracted by the tea, your Grace," you said, a half-truth you hoped would save you from the awkward situation. You raised your cup to your lips, the scent filling your nostrils once again.
"Honeybush, correct?"
He hummed, admiring you, and then spoke; "That is right. You are becoming more of an expert than me."
A small laugh left your lips, eyes twinkling in a way alone Wriothesley managed to do. "You certainly jest, your Grace."
You took another sip of tea.
An expert... a laughable idea. Saying that you don't like tea would probably make Wriothesley invite you over a little less. You had considered being upfront with it a few times but, in the end, you found that you liked Wriothesley a lot more than you disliked tea. It had started slowly, a build up of meetings that resulted in more direct invitations. You, a functionary that worked for Palais Mermonia, bonding with the Duke of the Fortress of Meropide; it was an occasion you couldn't waste.
Wriothesley observed you in silence, with that smile of his that was anything but direct — enigmatic in its beauty. The lack of words was fairly appreciated, since it gave you a chance to glance at him, memorising the moment. His presence alone was enough to communicate all that was needed to be said, two hearts bonding over nothing and everything all at once. Out of habit, you poured yourself another cup, the action so fluid that it testified the amount of afternoon spent just so.
That was the moment Wriothesley picked to finally speak, breaking the magic.
"You are in love with me."
There was no build up, no preparation. Just the truth getting delivered through his words, like an emissary to truth. Despite that, in the land of Justice one has the chance to defend oneself, sustaining a trial to try and come out as the victim. And yet, Wriothesley didn't give you the benefit of the doubt: his words were sure, certain, as if he was not looking for excuses but simply stating the obvious.
As surprised as you were, you ended up dropping the cup onto your lap, porcelain pathetically rolling down your legs. Its content was all over your dress, a work outfit you exclusively used at the Palais Mermonia and at the Fortress.
A breathless curse left your lips, hands hastily grabbing the tissues from the coffee table. You barely noticed how Wriothesley had dropped to his knees in front of you, warm palms stopping your frantic movements.
"It's my fault, so let me help," he sighed, carefully wiping the hot liquid off from your lap. He was being gentle, like any rushed touch might end up hurting you further.
"Your Grace–" you started, just to be interrupted by his lazy grin and clear eyes.
"Startled you badly, uh. Next time I will give you a heads-up," he said with a light chuckle, dabbing the wet spot on your dress. You were squirming on your seat, cheeks burning in embarrassment, but even so you forced yourself to answer, "I would like it better if a next time doesn't happen."
That made Wriothesley laugh more. Still, he waited until your eyes met his to halt his movements, lips curled like the cat that got the cream.
"I like you too, if it helps. I was going to ask you out on a date," Wriothesley whispered, back to tending to your poor ruined dress. You scoffed and stared at him with pouty lips, feeling a mix of annoyance and embarrassment swirling through your mind.
"Couldn't you mention that first, your Grace? Your previous comment was... uncalled for."
"Well, when my dear girl is all distracted, I might have to use dramatic measures to catch her attention." He reached out, cradling your cheek against his hand, thumb stroking the soft skin — warm under his touch.
"So you do know that it was dramatic," you sighed, leaning into his palm. Your heart was beating faster, mind reeling with how he called you his dear girl. Wriothesley laughed again, pushing himself a little higher up, until his breath ghosted your lips.
You automatically parted them.
The temptation to kiss him was irresistible and you had to force yourself to focus on anything else but his lips — despite the fact that your eyes were glued to them.
"Are you teasing me?" you managed to ask, struggling to maintain focus. Many were the times Wriothesley had invited you for a cup of tea and never once his feelings had hinted to something romantic. You were hesitant, scared of ending up with a broken heart.
A cup of your least liked tea would have been preferable.
Wriothesley tilted your chin up, eyes flickering between yours and your lips. Only then it had occurred to you that you had never seen him look more tense than he did at the moment.
"You think I invite you here because I like to listen to the forecast or to the latest scoop?" Wriothesley chuckled and shook his head, stopping solely to press a kiss against your cheek — tremendously close to your mouth.
"Well, you are the one bringing up those topics..." you tried to justify yourself, like your doubts had turned silly all of a sudden. You felt Wriothesley huff against your neck, before he pressed a kiss on the exposed skin.
You gasped, the sensation sending goosebumps all over your body; that was certainly something you were not expecting to happen.
"Fair enough but I'd like to point out one thing." Moving away from your neck, Wriothesley glanced at you in that mischievous way of his that made you feel thrilled.
"You dislike tea but you keep accepting my invites. Isn't it, ultimately, the exact same thing I do? Finding excuses to be together?"
Forgotten were your ruined clothes.
With your eyes wide in shock, you stared at Wriothesley like an animal caught by the hunter. You opened your mouth to speak, only for it to snap shut right after. Thankfully Wriothesley was a patient man, already leaning in again with the same gentleness and care of before.
"So... do you accept my feelings?” he asked, voice so soft that it felt like a whisper. He silently sought permission to close the gap between you two, other than just a direct answer to his question. You nodded to accept his feelings and leant forward to accept his lips.
And then time stopped.
Your first kiss tasted sweet, floral and honeyed in a way that surpassed by far the tea you drank. Perhaps it was from his mouth you were meant to enjoy the beverage, for your senses immediately rejoiced in its taste. His taste.
His hands moved to your thighs, gently stroking your skin through the clothes, while his tongue brushed against his bottom lip. Your fingers sunk into his hair, pulling him closer to your body to better enjoy his warmth. The kiss was slow, gentle in a way that felt sensual, his tongue brushing against yours like it held a sweet promise.
When Wriothesley pulled away, there was a string of saliva connecting your lips, one last connection that made the kiss feel realer. Your eyes were half-lidded, fluttering shut only when he leant close to brush your noses together — all affectionate and caring.
"I will give you my coat, alright? I don't want you to walk all the way back home with a stain," Wriothesley murmured, lips brushing against your neck in butterfly kisses that turned into attempts to leave a mark on your skin. The sensation had you arching against him, like you couldn't get enough. He let out a sigh, "I might carry you home, actually."
As dizzy as you were, you nuzzled against his hair, breathing in his scent. And when you attempted to speak, your lips ended up brushing against his ear. It was accidental but, somehow, it was enough to make Wriothesley pull you into another kiss.
The only sounds that could be heard in the room were your quick breathing, the smacking of lips, and errant gasps. Wriothesley moved to sit on the couch, right next to you, still refusing to stop kissing you. The dam had been broken and he finally had you. It was natural the way you ended up on his lap, heavily encouraged by Wriothesley's own eager arms, which he wrapped around your hips to hold you still.
Then you felt it: bulge pressing against you, making its presence known. You wiggled your body without meaning to, feeling it twitch under you. Wriothesley ended up groaning, face hiding against the crook of his neck.
"Careful," he whispered, "I'm trying to hold back. And you..." he rolled his hips up, "you are not helping."
His words and movement sent shivers down your back. You tried to hold still, simply clinging to his shirt like your life depended on it. However, with the way he kept on kissing and suckling your skin, it was impossible to stop yourself from humping him.
Wriothesley let you be for the moment, giving you the chance to rock your hips against his lap in those timid but needy circles that had his sanity hanging by a thread. Despite that, he focused entirely on marking your skin.
His lips moved along your neck, pampering kisses and leaving scattered marks. You tilted your head back, a shaky moan slipping through your parted lips when Wriothesley lingered on a specific spot that had you trembling. When he pulled away, you felt him chuckle, eyes glued to the hickey he proudly left on your skin.
"I hope my actions speak clearly. I am not teasing you, or working you up to let you down," he reiterated, helping you rock against his bulge, "I like you. A lot."
He was trying to make his point clear, to dissipate every possible doubt from your mind. And when you were too dazed to answer, the grinding on each other making stars dance behind your eyelids, Wriothesley leant in to steal your lips in another kiss, pouring his feelings with each caress of his tongue against yours.
He snuck a hand behind your back, caressing your spine with a tenderness that had you melting against his body, despite the pulsing need between your legs.
You went still on his lap, lost in the way his lips moved over yours. Your fingers curled over his shirt, steadying yourself.
The kiss turned slow, as if Wriothesley felt the need to take his time to fully enjoy you — like he wanted to memorize every inch of you. The moment you two pulled away, you immediately noticed that Wriothesley was staring at you like you hung the stars in the sky. Likewise, your own gaze was full of adoration as you drank in the sight of his flushed cheeks. At that point, you briefly thought that looking at his eyes indeed enhanced every situation.
"Let's leave the rest for a proper date," Wriothesley said, brushing your hair away from your forehead, "no tea party this time, I promise." He was smiling at you with such an intense love that words eluded you. Even with his marks over your skin, and the willingness to feel more of your body under his fingertips, Wriothesley still wished to cherish every single moment together.
He helped you stand up and, as promised, he draped his coat over your form, engulfing you in his scent. With the marks scattered over your exposed neck, you felt surrounded by Wriothesley's presence.
It made you feel giddy.
"It looks gigantic on me," you pointed out, barely holding back your happiness.
"Well," Wriothesley began, stropping to fully take you in. "Then it means that it's gonna keep you extra protected."
He kissed your forehead, fingers interlacing with yours. His grip was firm in a protective way but gentle enough to make you feel cherished.
"Now let's get you home. I'm not leaving your side," he said, finally guiding you towards the stairs. With each step you took, you couldn't help but think that making yourself drink tea had been very much worth it.