Valerian committed the taste of Greengrass' skin to memory and enjoyed the sensations of Greengrass' fingers running through his hair. In time he knew he'd be able to find something like this again—but like was the key word, because he doubted he'd find someone so hesitant yet intoxicatingly bold at times, someone who was so inexperienced yet eager and who responded to his touch so hungrily. He wouldn't have a Greengrass again; he would have to find someone else, and right now the idea of anyone else paled in comparison to the man he was holding tight to. Valerian didn't like change.

He pulled back so he could look at Greengrass' face, loosening his arms around Greengrass' waist but making no move to let him go. "That's what this is supposed to be, though," he answered, his bottom lip jutting out in an unintended pout, "An escape from the world—you know, where we're not allowed to do this." He glanced down between their bodies to demonstrate their point. In the real world he was supposed to be Valerian Macnair, eldest son of Eustace and Mariana Macnair, hospital healer, eligible bachelor who broke ladies' hearts everywhere by choosing to marry his cousin. He could play that role outside of these walls, but when he was with Greengrass he could show a side of himself that he wasn't able—wasn't allowed—to show anyone else. How could he not mourn the end of this?

"And I know you've got a lot on your plate." Greengrass' father had passed, and now he was responsible for his sisters. He'd mentioned that when they first met, but Valerian hadn't thought much about it. "But I can make things easier if you let me," he explained, leaning forward to kiss Greengrass' lips again.

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Ford leaned in to the kiss and returned it fully, but Macnair's words hadn't swayed him. An escape from the real world — sure, it sounded lovely, but the two of them existed in different worlds to start out with. Maybe when you were rich and powerful and free of any responsibilities except the ones you'd decided to take upon yourself, you could choose to just escape for a while. Ford didn't have that luxury. If he started running away from all this, even if it was only for a few hours here and there or one or two nights a week, this whole thing was going to collapse.

"I wish I could," he mumbled as the kiss ended, sliding his hand from the back of Macnair's neck around to the side of his face.

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Set by Lady!

Greengrass wasn't going to give. It must have meant he was firm in his resolve—firmer than Valerian was in his insistence that he stay. As nice as it was to play the back and forth of stay and I can't between kisses and gentle touches, Valerian was not willing to get down on his knees and beg. Not only would it make it difficult to look at himself in the mirror afterwards if Greengrass didn't sway, but it would ruin the dynamic between them.

"You'd rather struggle alone," he murmured, his hands coming to a rest on Greengrass' hips. "If that's what you want, I—" He closed his mouth and swallowed a lump, realizing just how dry his mouth had gone. Ending things is never easy, he reminded himself, though in the moment it felt like a stupid phrase to comfort himself than an essential truth, Just let him go.

"I'll respect that." He dropped his hands from Greengrass' hips and hastily looked away, feeling a wave of emotions hit him all at once. Sadness. Frustration. Hurt. Annoyance that he was feeling anything at all. Anger that his eyes were glazing over with tears that had yet to escape. When he spoke next, his voice was steely, devoid of all emotion out of fear that giving just a little would allow it all to spill out. "I won't pretend to understand why anyone would want to. Not that you'll tell me, anyways."

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   Fortitude Greengrass

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Of course Ford knew that Macnair was eventually going to move away from him. That was the whole point of this conversation, ending things. Still, when Macnair dropped his hands Ford couldn't help a surge of regret. Already? he found himself thinking, but he knew that was stupid. They'd been kissing too long already, given that it was the middle of the day and Ford was supposed to be working. That didn't mean he liked it when Macnair moved away, though, and he certainly didn't like the tone in his voice at the end.

Ford dropped his hands rather reluctantly. "If I told you, you'd talk me out of it," he replied, his tone trying for teasing. He wanted Macnair to look at him again, and maybe give him half a smile. He wanted Macnair to touch him again, but he knew that was a bad idea. It was unfair to both of them to prolong this any more. This was what Ford had asked for, and he couldn't expect Macnair to simultaneously say goodbye and to act as though nothing had changed.

"I, uhm —" he started, with a slight flush to his cheeks. He felt there was something more to say besides goodbye, but he wasn't sure how to phrase it and was worried he was going to sound ridiculous. "Thank you."

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Set by Lady!

Despite Greengrass' attempt to lighten the air between them Valerian didn't want to smile. His mood had gone sour and he was determined to keep it that way, because smiling and being sweet and sentimental would only make it worse once Greengrass left. He wanted to talk Greengrass out of it. He wanted to say whatever needed to be said to make Greengrass realize that he could do this. But Greengrass had no intention or desire to be talked out of his decision, and Valerian had no desire to humor him.

"Yeah," he whispered, still unable to meet Greengrass' eyes. He could feel the other man's body moving away; first Greengrass' hands slipped away from his cheeks, and then he felt the space grow between them. He hated it. Hated it. He hated when things ended, and no matter how much he told himself that he could deal with the end of an affair it never got any easier.

It was an impulsive decision, but Valerian knew he would regret it if he didn't act on it. He lurched forward and, capturing Greengrass' face in his hands, kissed him one last time, allowing himself one more moment. When he pulled away a stray tear had escaped his eye, but his expression was forcefully neutral and his jaw clenched. "Go," he ordered, tearing his gaze away and focusing instead on a portrait that hung on the wall somewhere behind Greengrass' head.

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Ugh, this was awful. There was no getting around it. Ford felt miserable. Macnair looked miserable. The only thing Ford wanted to do was kiss him again, to —

Oh, like that. Even though he’d been thinking it right before Macnair moved in Ford still let out a muffled noise of surprise before returning the kiss. It was too short, and when it ended there was something even more unexpected following it. Was — was he imagining that, or had Macnair gotten a little...?

Fuck, what were they doing? Ford was out of his depth here, and though he’d already known that he suddenly felt it even more keenly. Had he just made a huge mistake? Was he going to regret this after he left? He regretted it now, but it wasn't like he could walk it back. It wasn't as though this changed anything of consequence — if anything, it made it even worse.

It wasn't until Macnair said go that Ford realized how he'd been staring — gaping, really. He felt unsure about all of this, moreso now than he had a few minutes ago, and he didn't want to leave, but what was he going to do if he stayed? What was he going to say? Did you just—?

But if their places had been reversed, Ford knew the last thing he would want would be for someone (maybe someone he cared about, maybe someone who had just hurt him) to ask him about it. He couldn't do that to Macnair; it would add insult to injury to make him admit to it when he clearly hadn't wanted Ford to see. So he had to leave. There was nothing else to do.

"— yeah," he eventually said, cheeks flushing furiously. Not trusting himself to say more, Ford walked past Macnair and to the floo. He was in such a rush to leave, and so utterly distracted by Macnair's unexpected show of emotion, that he neglected to grab the bundle on the sofa — his pants from two days earlier.

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Set by Lady!