I only own the words; everything else belongs to Nintendo. Roy and Marth belong to each other.

Notes and warnings:

This story is shonen ai and thus two boys in love. If this isn't your kind of thing, I advise you to click 'back' now. This chapter is a lemon, however delicate it actually is, so please don't read on if you know you'll be offended by it.

The previous chapter was intended to be a one-shot, but then I was intrigued by the possibility of writing something more, so here it is. It's pretty tame and, I hope, not completely dreadful. :)

"I've… never done this before," Roy said timidly as they lay next to each other, faces close, fingers entwined. Marth's warm skin next to his was both calming and daunting.

"I haven't, either," Marth replied, stroking one finger over his cheek, "but I'm sure we'll enjoy working out what to do." He smiled. "I love you, you know, and that's all that matters, even if everything goes horribly wrong."

Roy gave a small chuckle at this, releasing some of the tension and worry that had begun to build in him. "What could actually go horribly wrong?"

"I don't know," Marth said, "and that's probably half the problem!" He drew Roy close to him as he said this, stroking his hair with one hand and his back with the other. "Want to find out?"

In reply, Roy pressed his lips to Marth's own, intending the touch to be quiet and gentle and soft, but as soon as they brushed together, something awoke in him that made his whole body shiver, and, knowing that this was what he wanted more than anything else in the world right now, he surrendered himself to the passionate heat that just this simple contact induced. Every stroke of Marth's tongue, every lusty moan against his mouth, sent him further and further into the dream he would not awaken from this night. Marth's legs wrapped around him as they desperately pressed their bodies together, needing the feel of skin on skin, warmth on warmth. Tangled together like this, Roy felt his hips start to thrust on their own, gasping at how good just brushing against the fabric felt. Marth evidently felt it too, as he began to emulate the movements and they were soon lost in a haze of sensations, of just feeling. The long kiss broke off into many, many small ones, hot, urgent lips burning against each other as if it would all end if they let go.

"Marth…" Roy breathed in between kisses, looking straight into the blue-haired prince's eyes; an unspoken plea. Gaze not leaving the boy, Marth slowed down and began to trail his fingers down Roy's stomach, stopping, as he had done before, at the top of his breeches, waiting for a sign that this was definitely okay.


And then trembling fingers were fumbling with the button, and Roy realised that Marth was just as nervous as he was.

"I love you," he whispered, as hands ghosted down his thighs, the softest of touches, until the garment lay on the edge of the bed and everything was suddenly real.

"I love you too," Marth said, kissing him softly on the lips and stroking his hair again. A little bit embarrassed about being unclothed, Roy moved around so that he could even things out. He pressed his lips back to the prince's as he eased the fabric down, Marth lifting his hips to make freeing himself easier. When he too was naked, he began to giggle quietly. Taking Roy into his arms, he murmured:

"I feel really silly."

"Not silly," Roy said, his own cheeks burning. "You're beautiful." He ran his fingers over the prince's chest as if to demonstrate his point. It didn't feel the same as it usually did, now that they were placing the ultimate kind of trust in each other; it felt so much more serious and solid, touching Marth like he was at this moment.

"Is it okay to touch you?" Marth whispered into his ear, still holding Roy in his arms and needing the assurance that he was allowed to do this. Consent was a deep sigh and the boy's head rubbing against his gently. The sigh returned as Marth's finger traced down his stomach and down onto his thigh, where he began to move his palm in small circles, closer and closer to the inside of his leg. Roy moaned as a single finger resumed the circles on the most sensitive part of his thigh, moving higher and higher, teasing him as he waited for what he knew was going to happen once Marth was confident enough. Slowly, slowly, until he almost couldn't bear it, and then, as those fingers swept upwards over him, he gasped and was suddenly pleading for more, and he was arching up into Marth's touch, moaning and unable to open his eyes, overwhelmed. Oh, to be like this forever, forever, but it was too much, too fast, too good, to last any longer, and as white visions engulfed everything, wave after wave of the most incredible pleasure ran through his body, so intense that he gave a half cry and snapped his head back until finally it was over and he was left with trembling shudders that still felt delicious, although not as delicious as that, and…

"I love you, Marth," he said, looking up at him with eyes that were alive with feeling. "I love you." He enveloped his lover in a tight embrace that said more than the words ever could. Lips met for a slow, sweet kiss, from which they did not separate for what felt like an age. As he began to wind down, Roy felt a flush of embarrassment at not having lasted very long at all, but as long as he was able to return to Marth everything he had felt…

He gently moved so that the prince was lying down now, looking so beautiful with his head on the pillows again. He ran his tongue over one of his nipples, enjoying the heady sigh it evoked. Such smooth skin under his fingertips, smooth skin over hard muscle earned from fighting. Neither of them had fought very hard this night.

Roy was lost now, lost to the taste, lost to the sensuality of the moment as he trailed down Marth's chest, trailed down his stomach, slightly surprised at how sensitive his navel appeared to be. Marth was whispering Roy's name over and over and over, telling him how good it was, how much he loved him, and then it was Roy's turn to make Marth cry out as he surprised him by flicking his tongue a little lower. He was only timid at first, but as Roy became bolder, the strokes became faster and firmer, and then he was sliding his mouth over him, taking him in little by little, gently, and the tongue resumed again inside, warm and wet and absolutely divine, and then he started to suck and the world began to spin as he could no longer control his moaning, could no longer control anything, not this close to the edge, not as he was tumbling over it, crying out louder, unable to react any other way to the sensations wracking his whole being until he was spent and gasping, attempting to brush his damp hair off his forehead as he slumped onto the pillow. He vaguely noted Roy reaching for the covers, drawing the duvet over the both of them, but none of it registered as he sighed softly to himself, waiting to draw the boy close to him.

"Roy," he said in a haze of love and sleepiness, "thank you." And then, "I love you."

"I love you too," the red-haired boy whispered, melting into the embrace. "I'm glad you fought back…"