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Claude’s taken to arriving long before Alliance meetings start. Partly so he can scope out the setting, pick a good seat and review his intel, practice his arguments, maybe rehearse his latest inspiring speech so it’ll actually sound inspiring when he says it aloud.
Partly because House Gloucester is also in the habit of arriving early, and it’s always easy enough to disengage Lorenz from his father’s retinue and convince him to step aside for a few precious moments of personal time. Talking, usually.
Or in Claude’s case, pulling him into a spare room and immediately leaning in for a kiss.
“Really, this is serious," Lorenz huffs, catching Claude's face with a gloved hand as he swoops merrily in. "An Alliance roundtable is absolutely not the time for your nonsense, Riegan."
"I would argue that an Alliance roundtable is exactly the time for my nonsense, Gloucester," Claude says, and not even Lorenz's hand over his mouth is enough to muffle the smile in his voice. “Keeps them on their toes. Besides, I'm mostly behaving myself. If I had my way, we'd be--"
Lorenz makes an absolutely panicked sound and claps his other hand over the one already trying to keep Claude from finishing any further sentences in potential hearing range of other Alliance nobles.
"Decorum, Claude, please," he hisses, in that particular tone of voice that sends a thrill down Claude's spine. "We are in public."
"And the public should know exactly how much I want to--"
"Claude."
Lorenz shifts one hand to Claude's throat, careful fingers pressing against his windpipe with the barest hint of authority. To any other man, a violet-eyed warning; to Claude, a heady blend of adrenaline and arousal that makes him go still.
"This is neither the time nor the place for such things," Lorenz says, his voice low and even. "Such impropriety could ruin us both. And even that aside, our houses stand opposed in the current political climate. My father might very well disown me if he knew I was bedding Duke Riegan, of all people. So, please. For my sake, if not your own."
It's the depth of heartache in his dark eyes that finally gets Claude's attention, distracts him from the hand at his throat. This isn't a matter of Lorenz rejecting his affections; it's a matter of Lorenz being resigned to the life laid out for him the moment he was born. Personal happiness must always fall by the wayside in the face of noble duty.
He nods, slowly, and Lorenz breathes a quiet sigh of relief and releases him.
"I'm sorry," Claude says, and lets that hang in the air between them for a moment before reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair out of Lorenz's face. "You're right."
"As is usually the case, but feel free to keep admitting it," Lorenz replies, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He leans into Claude's touch, and Claude brushes his knuckles against Lorenz's cheek and thinks about kissing him, about chasing that smile with his own.
He leans in again, and Lorenz catches him with an exasperated hand, but doesn't push him away.
"Lorenz," Claude begins with a slow smile. "Lorenz Hellman Gloucester, heir and representative of your House."
"... Go on," Lorenz prompts, giving him a wary side-eye.
"You are noble and true, brave and selfless. Willing to put everything aside for the sake of your people, to lead them to prosperity and happiness even if it means postponing or surrendering your own."
Lorenz, utterly flustered, says nothing.
"In these dark and troubled times, you are the light of dawn cresting the horizon, my crown of daylight in my darkest hour. When life is too much to bear, you are my steady foundation, my enduring peace, my most trusted ally. Lorenz, my light, my anchor, my hope: may I kiss you?"
"I would like nothing more," Lorenz manages, his voice trembling.
Claude doesn't waste a moment in closing the distance between them. There’s a burning temptation at the front of his mind to kiss Lorenz so hard they both see stars afterward, but instead he kisses him softly, tenderly, lingering for just a breathless moment before pulling back with no small share of reluctance.
"Propriety," he says, when Lorenz gives him a look that's halfway between offended and desperate.
"Oh, damn propriety," Lorenz says in return, grabbing Claude by the lapels and pulling him back in. "Claude von Riegan, you exasperate me. You make me want to abandon everything I have ever worked for, merely for the chance to remain by your side.”
Claude looks at him, stunned, and then laughs and kisses him again. This time he nearly does see stars.
“Maybe,” he says, when they’re both flushed and trying to catch their breath, “maybe don’t do that. The whole abandoning-everything thing. I would love to run away with you, but…”
“But neither of us is that sort of man,” Lorenz finishes.
“No. Not any more.” Claude tucks Lorenz’s hair behind his ear, cups his cheek with one hand and steals a much gentler kiss. Anything like the last one and he’s pretty sure the two of them will be utterly useless during the Alliance meeting. “But someday, when all this is over and Fódlan’s a peaceful place again, we’ll have the whole rest of our lives to run away as much as we like.”
“Only you could make fleeing responsibility sound like a romantic gesture,” Lorenz says, amusement coloring his voice. “But if you ask it of me, I will run with you."
“Not permanently. Maybe just now and then, you know? Pass our noble duties off to someone else and run away for a bit, go see the world. Come back when we’ve gotten some sun and some culture. Visit Brigid, kick up some dust in Almyra. Wherever we want to go.”
“So, vacation.”
Claude laughs and and pulls away, straightening his rumpled clothes. “Yes. Now come on, we’ve a roundtable meeting to get to. Unless you forgot about that, Gloucester?”
“Shit,” Lorenz says, with all the eloquence he can muster. “Riegan, you drive me to distraction."