Fic - Regency!AU GrandEcho First Kiss
Jan. 20th, 2019 08:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lady_mabOkay so I see your 'grandecho first kiss' from dora/@harpydora, and I raise you your 'regency!au grandecho fake dating' from muna/@notawaer for a grand slam double whammy of goodness
or something
It is absolutely infuriating how Echo manages to keep such a straight face after all of this. Their dark eyes settle on Grand as they fuss with their cufflinks, expression utterly still.
Grand struggles to catch his breath after his outburst, straightening his posture and tugging smartly at his jacket. “I fear that this arrangement is better served with clearer pretenses from here on out. Boundaries must be established, Mx. Reverie, if you wish for me to continue playing at your lover.”
Something flickers across Echo’s face at that—though Grand isn’t too sure if it’s his formal use of their name, or his implications. “Would you prefer to end this contract?” they ask, and as if they can’t stop themself, they look away.
It’s their tone, perhaps, that catches Grand’s attention. He watches their hands, usually so certain and calm, slip on the cufflink and fail to unfasten it on the first try. In the silence of the room, charged in the space between them, he hears their breath on an inhale just too audible.
“That’s not what I want,” Grand forces himself to say, and Echo flings their hands down to their side and turns to look at him with far more emotion than he expected.
“Then what do you want?” they return immediately.
His stomach lurches, and he takes an involuntary step forward. “I should like to know where I stand with you, Echo.”
Echo closes their eyes and lets their chin drop to their chest—the weakness showing for just a moment before their shoulders once again pull back and they turn their focus away. “I had thought at my side, but perhaps that is where I first went wrong.”
It’s the look on Echo’s face. It’s the sight of them silhouetted against the large windows, curtains pulled back to reveal the sparkling lights of the city. It’s the fact that Grand makes up his mind in that split second.
He crosses to them, dress shoes muffled on the rug, until he’s close enough to catch them around the waist with one of his arms.
“Grand—” they start, but their voice drops off as soon as his hand brushes over their cheek.
And then he kisses them, soft and slow and careful.
The edges of Echo soften, they melt beneath his touch, and they kiss him back.
or something
It is absolutely infuriating how Echo manages to keep such a straight face after all of this. Their dark eyes settle on Grand as they fuss with their cufflinks, expression utterly still.
Grand struggles to catch his breath after his outburst, straightening his posture and tugging smartly at his jacket. “I fear that this arrangement is better served with clearer pretenses from here on out. Boundaries must be established, Mx. Reverie, if you wish for me to continue playing at your lover.”
Something flickers across Echo’s face at that—though Grand isn’t too sure if it’s his formal use of their name, or his implications. “Would you prefer to end this contract?” they ask, and as if they can’t stop themself, they look away.
It’s their tone, perhaps, that catches Grand’s attention. He watches their hands, usually so certain and calm, slip on the cufflink and fail to unfasten it on the first try. In the silence of the room, charged in the space between them, he hears their breath on an inhale just too audible.
“That’s not what I want,” Grand forces himself to say, and Echo flings their hands down to their side and turns to look at him with far more emotion than he expected.
“Then what do you want?” they return immediately.
His stomach lurches, and he takes an involuntary step forward. “I should like to know where I stand with you, Echo.”
Echo closes their eyes and lets their chin drop to their chest—the weakness showing for just a moment before their shoulders once again pull back and they turn their focus away. “I had thought at my side, but perhaps that is where I first went wrong.”
It’s the look on Echo’s face. It’s the sight of them silhouetted against the large windows, curtains pulled back to reveal the sparkling lights of the city. It’s the fact that Grand makes up his mind in that split second.
He crosses to them, dress shoes muffled on the rug, until he’s close enough to catch them around the waist with one of his arms.
“Grand—” they start, but their voice drops off as soon as his hand brushes over their cheek.
And then he kisses them, soft and slow and careful.
The edges of Echo soften, they melt beneath his touch, and they kiss him back.
