The knights are returning from war -- and Lieven is not sure if his lover will be with them.
The sound of the trumpets broke Lieven's reverie, bringing him back to real life with a jolt.
The old book he was usually so fond off was shut quickly and shoved away as he stood up from his chair. He hurried over to the window, which overlooked the entrance into the city. His hands clenched on the windowsill as he saw the knights come through the gates--some atop horses, most afoot.
His heart lodged in his throat, and Lieven left all his work behind as he ran for the door. The university lay atop a hill in the city, as far away from the city gates as could be. But Lieven ran as fast as he could, until he reached the main street. A long line of battle-worn knights passed him, but Lieven only had eyes for one in particular.
He craned his neck, looking ahead, then back, but he could not spot that familiar face. Where is he? he wondered frantically, wringing his hands together. He has to be here!
But as the stream of knights thinned, he still had not seen him. His heart, no longer lodged in his throat, fell ruthlessly into his stomach. He felt like he'd been hit. He was not there! Not that Lieven had seen, and Lieven never missed him. He could pick him out of any crowd, but ... not today.
Maybe he'd been further ahead, had entered before Lieven reached the main street.
Hope still flaring just the tiniest bit, Lieven turned and ran for his home. He owned a little house at the outskirts of the city. It would've been more practical living closer to the university, but Lieven loved his little home. It was enough for him. For him and ...
He slowed as his house came into sight. It looked exactly like he'd left it that morning. Gate closed, front door closed, curtains drawn and darkness inside. If he'd been there he would've at least lit a light ...
Lieven felt despair hit him. He could not be dead. He swore he would come back! If he was dead, Lieven did not know what to do ... he lived for him. For months all he'd been waiting for was for the war to end and the knights to return. For his knight to return. It might be selfish of him, but he did not care about the other knights, not as long as his was all right.
And now ... now it would seem he wasn't. And Lieven would be all alone.
Tears pricking at his eyes, Lieven let himself into his house. All was dark, silent. Just like it had been for the last several months. Ever since he left ...
Lieven took his jacket off, letting it fall carelessly to the floor. Who cared about a jacket when his beloved was dead?
He turned the corner to the living room and jumped back in shock, his heart galloping in his chest. Putting one hand over it, he tried to calm down, then took a step forward again.
"Rolan?" The question came out hesitantly. He was afraid to be seeing things.
The man standing there in front of the fireplace turned around, his eyes dark and haunted. But they brightened the tiniest bit upon seeing Lieven.
Lieven couldn't breathe. Rolan was standing there--completely alive. And he was decked up in his uniform and Lieven had always been weak for him in uniform ... Rolan made such a fine, regal figure in the knight's uniform.
And then Rolan was there, pushing up against the wall and kissing him. The kiss was brutal--speaking of months of loneliness and longing. Lieven wrapped his arms around Rolan's neck, holding onto him as he lifted his legs and wrapped them about his knight's hips.
Rolan tore at his shirt, and soon his hand slid inside the fabric, caressing Lieven's neck, then going down his chest, pinching a nipple, then circling over to the other.
"Rolan," Lieven whispered against his lips as they broke apart for air, "oh, Rolan!"
Rolan's hips moved against him, rubbing his hardness against Lieven's. He kissed Lieven again, more passionately than brutal this time, then he moved his mouth to Lieven's neck, sucking and licking and kissing his way down.
Lieven moaned, tilting his head back to give Rolan better access. He loved when Rolan did that--it made him crazy. If he'd been standing right now, his knees would've given out. Thankfully he was wrapped around his lover, and Rolan was keeping him up against the wall with his own body weight and strong, muscled arms.
Lieven ran his hands over those muscles, loving the bulging form of them under the uniform shirt. No one looked better in uniform than Rolan--no one but Rolan ever got a second glance from him. Rolan was his life, his everything. And he was alive and well and here, still wanting Lieven even after so many months away at war.
"I've missed you so much," Lieven whispered, wanting Rolan to know. "Every day I've been waiting ..." His voice broke off into a long-drawn moan as Rolan sucked up a mark on his collarbone.
"I've missed you too." Rolan's mouth was back against his, their lips touching just slightly. "Every day, every night, you were in my mind. And no matter how hard it was, I knew I had to come back to you."
Lieven choked at those words, and the tears satrted flowing. He wrapped his arms further around Rolan's neck and buried his face in his lover's neck. "I was so afraid you were going to die," he sobbed. "I could not bare that."
Rolan's hand tangled in his hair, running through his to-long tresses softly. His hips had stopped moving, but Lieven could still feel his hardness, and it had him so aroused he did not know what to do with himself. So he cried--and cried.
"I am home now," Rolan whispered against his ear. "You don't have to worry anymore. Because I am here, beloved. I am here."
Lieven clung to him, afraid to budge even an inch. But Rolan was right--he was here now.
And Lieven hoped it would stay like that. He hoped the war was finally over, that Rolan did not have to leave him again. For he could not bear being parted from Rolan again, going several more months without word, without knowing. With the suspense when the knights came back home--still not knowing if his lover would be there, or if he would get word of his death ...
"You are home," he mumbled against Rolan's muscular shoulder. "Please stay home."
Rolan let his hand slide through Lieven's hair again, then he squeezed him tight. He did not answer--because it was not his promise to make. If he was called out for duty again, Rolan could not say no. He was a knight--and he could not forsake his duty to the country just because his lover wanted him to.
"I am here now," Rolan replied. "And I will be for a while. That should be enough for now."
Lieven turned his head and pressed a kiss to Rolan's neck. "Yes," he whispered. "For now, that's enough."
Because all that mattered right now was that he was in Rolan's arms. He could not constantly worry about the future--he had to live in the present. And his present was Rolan.