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Ludwig laid his temple against the window pane and shut his eyes. “You know, Laurence, when I suggested celebrating the feast day, I did not intend for you to pick a day with a blizzard…”
Laurence flicked a piece of paper at him. “How was I supposed to know it would snow on the solstice? Usually it doesn’t do that until the new year!”
“It happened when we were at Byrgenwerth.” Ludwig pointed out. The cold felt nice. On one hand, he was inclined to worry; they were meant to go hunting tonight. On the other, the beasts did not care for snow any more than men. So most likely if anything was out and about, it was some abhorrent creature from Cainhurst…
Hmm. What an uncomforting thought.
Once the snow stopped they could work on clearing a path out of the Cathedral, he supposed.
Laurence hopped up on the desk to sit, ankles crossed. “It’s not so bad. At least we have food.”
“And Amelia,” Ludwig added, though he wasn’t actually sure where his daughter had got off to. She’d said something about garlands and took off a few hours ago, before the storm had kicked up. “We should go back to the sanctum. Talk to the hunters and clergy, probably.”
“And the civilians.” Laurence agreed. “We had a full hall. Shall we go, then?”
“… in a moment.” Ludwig murmured. It was peaceful so high above the ward, for once. The snow insulated everything, like being deep under water.
Ludwig let his eyes shut.
Laurence didn’t say anything to rush him. It could have been minutes or hours later when they left the upstairs room, and went back down to the sanctum. It smelled like wine and roasting meat; the noise level was above what was really appropriate for the Grand Cathedral, though Laurence looked pleased about it.
“Do you remember the year your family wouldn’t send a coach?” Laurence asked him, in a lull between conversations. “To Byrgenwerth.”
Ludwig arched his brows. He was hardly going to forget that month. “Maria was furious. Said she would have stolen me if she’d known.”
“I’m glad she didn’t.” Laurence admitted, and turned his face to look out of the rose window after saying so. Probably he felt strange about it, even with how long they’d known each other and how dependent they’d grown.
“You would’ve been alone for it otherwise,” Ludwig agreed, then paused. “Well. Prospector Beidal might have still taken you…”
“He wouldn’t have.” Laurence’s fingers twitched. “He would never had seen me, if I haven’t gone to have lunch with you. I would’ve spent the whole break hiding in the alcoves or hiding in my room. It didn’t… occur to me anyone would… well. You know how Willem was.”
“I haven’t forgot that.” Ludwig agreed, and leaned closer a moment so his arm brushed Laurence’s shoulder. “… I’m glad my family refused to send a carriage. For what it’s worth.”
Laurence lowered his head enough that his veil concealed him, and he could smile in privacy. “I suppose it’s worth something.”
Ludwig rumbled, probably stifling a laugh at his expense. Laurence thought a moment about finding somewhere alone. It wasn’t often they could spend nights together anymore, and he missed his friend. (Yes, in the privacy of his own thoughts he could admit they were friends. More than that Ludwig was his anchor and his tether, and Laurence could no more stand to be apart from him than a garden could shun sunlight. Perhaps for a while he’d get along, but sooner or later…)
(Ludwig didn’t need him, the way Laurence needed Ludwig. It was a relief. Laurence had let down so very many people.)
“Do you want to go somewhere after this?” Ludwig asked near his ear, a little later, and Laurence could barely think before he was leaning hard into the other man, and the only word in his mind or on his lips was yes.
Ludwig was cool to the touch. He hadn’t been like that when they were human — his skin had been warm, if not so warm as Laurence’s, pleasant to touch. It was still pleasant. But Laurence missed it sometimes.
Whenever he caught himself he made a point of remembering the times Ludwig had tossed him around sand pits and sparring rings and mats, the lawn at Byrgenwerth, the dorms.
He pressed his back to Ludwig anyway. Ludwig probably missed being warm — almost all the hunters complained of that at some time or another — and Laurence was warm, that was something he could help with, so he did. He pressed himself to Ludwig, and when Ludwig made a soft noise and wrapped an arm around him, Laurence twisted and climbed up to perch on his legs, and settled in there. Ludwig did not say anything, but his fingers twitched on Laurence’s hip.
Amelia walked in on them and made a gagging noise. “Are you two having alone time? Should I leave?”
Laurence stared at her, face blank — of course they weren’t — while Ludwig turned dark red.
“Darling, no.”
“I’m sitting with my friend.” Laurence told her, “I’m allowed to do that.”
Amelia wrinkled her nose, and ventured further in. “Sitting in his lap?”
Yes, obviously. Laurence just stared at her until she made an uncomfortable noise and gave up. “Well, can I sit with you…?”
“Sweetheart, of course you can.” Ludwig held a hand out to her, and Amelia’s expression brightened. She crossed the room to take his fingers between hers; Ludwig smiled and draw her down beside him, and wrapped his free arm around her shoulders.
Laurence blinked at her from his perch. “I’m not sharing his lap.”
Amelia made another face. “I am not a child! I don’t want to sit in his lap, Master.”
“Good, then I don’t have to kick you off it.” Laurence shifted and wriggled pointedly to get comfortable. Ludwig looked as if he were considering dumping Laurence on the floor.
“Why do you let him do that?” Amelia asked Ludwig.
Ludwig sighed and squeezed her shoulders. “Because it feels good to be close, I suppose. It’s — a little embarrassing, but hunters crave contact with our tethers.”
Amelia appeared to mull that over. “Is that why you always kiss my head?”
“I always kiss your head because you’re my daughter.” Ludwig corrected. “But it doesn’t hurt, either.”
“He doesn’t kiss my head,” Laurence confided to Amelia, lips twitching. She poked his cheek and Laurence nipped at her fingers, mostly to be a terror.
“Anyway, I’d have your father sit in my lap,” Laurence told her, and ignored Ludwig’s look of deep pain, “But it just doesn’t work, I mean, proportionately. I suppose he could lay his head in my lap… usually that’s reserved for him being sleep deprived or injured, though. Hmm. That’s strange to think about. Ludwig! Want to put your head in my lap?”
Ludwig moved his hand up and gently covered Laurence’s mouth. Laurence spluttered his offense, and was thankfully muffled.
“You weren’t around for this, Ame,” Ludwig said kindly, “But Laurence would sit on Gehrman whenever he could get away with it, and sometimes on your aunt Maria, too.”
Amelia’s brows furrowed. “He was allowed?”
“Well, if she was cold or feeling affectionate.” Ludwig agreed, leaving off that he himself had taken many naps pressed back to back with Maria, or with one of them stretched out beside the other. It sounded questionable. “You’ll understand if you become a Hunter, but it’s… hmm. You want to touch people you care about all the time, even more than when you were a human. Think of an ill child begging comfort, perhaps.”
Amelia examined them doubtfully. Laurence blinked at her and said, “I was like this before I became a Hunter.” Which undermined Ludwig’s point wholesale.
Ludwig gave up with a sigh. “Yes, well, I sometimes wonder if you weren’t the prototype every Hunter after was based on.”
“Gehrman was the first Hunter.” Laurence burrowed deeper into him. “I was the first blood saint. Get it right.”
“I’m going to drop you in the snow.” Ludwig muttered. “Don’t lecture me about things I was there for—”
Amelia set her head against Ludwig’s ribs and let herself doze while her father and her teacher bickered.
Amelia’s breathing evened out, and stayed that way. Ludwig paused for breath and stroked her hair with his fingers. “… Laurence.”
“Mm?” Laurence twisted to look him in the face.
Ludwig sighed. “Thank you. For not turning her out.”
Laurence stared at him a long moment, then sighed and leaned up to press a kiss to Ludwig’s brow. “It’s a family holiday. Of course I want your daughter here.”
“She’s more than my daughter,” Ludwig pointed out.
Laurence shrugged. “Of course she is. And I care about her for her own merits now. But when we met, I cared about her because you did.”
Ludwig’s eyes narrowed. “Liar.”
“I am not.” Laurence draped his arms around the other man’s shoulders. “You know I’m horrible at caring. I would’ve cared about her like a citizen, or a patient, not a… not a person.”
Ludwig stared at him a long moment and sighed.
Laurence gave him a guilty smile, and shut his eyes. “I’m not proud of it.”
“I know you aren’t.”
“My point was merely… it’s a day to be with family. So of course I want your family — the bits we didn’t run out ourselves — here with us.”
Ludwig leaned into him, and pressed their foreheads together. “If it’s like that, I suppose we can go find Gratia and Ms. Milia…”
“Oh, let’s not go that far.” Laurence muttered, and startled a laugh out of Ludwig, quiet and pleasant.
Laurence wanted to kiss him. He’d been fielding that urge on and off for ages. He let it go without acting on it.
“I might go and raid the wine,” he muttered, and Ludwig shifted under him.
“So you can get drunk and kiss half the Cathedral’s population?”
“It’s tradition.” Laurence ducked to hide his smile.
“Just stay with us.” Ludwig sighed. “Don’t go and give the guards heart attacks.”
“Hmm, but maybe I want to get drunk and kiss people.”
Ludwig’s grip on his waist tightened. “Too bad. Spend time with your friend. We are friends, aren’t we?”
Laurence huffed and tried to hide that he was knocked breathless. “I suppose I can do that.” He murmured, and the urge was back, and harder to let go of than before. His eyes shut. He tilted his head — just a little — and pressed his mouth to Ludwig’s jaw, and felt the other man go still.
Laurence took his lips away, and waited to hit the floor. Waited.
Ludwig exhaled. He turned his face to the side, and cool lips brushed Laurence’s temple only a moment.
Laurence felt his heart stutter anyway.
“There.” Ludwig muttered. “No wine, but you got one kiss. That’s plenty, isn’t it?”
“Terribly generous.” Laurence felt the words stick in his throat and cursed himself. “Thank you.”