PART II | Chapter XIII
2:13 | To the Victor Go the Spoils
While the droplets beaded atop them were cool and wet, Baisyl’s lips by contrast were warm and full, and they parted under Kedean’s like petals under the light of dawn. The first kiss tasted like Baisyl and rain, and Kedean shivered to feel his charge’s hands loop up and around, catching and clutching behind his neck to hold him in—as if he planned to run away now.
When Kedean drew his tongue languidly across the lower of his charge’s lips, Baisyl’s entire body shuddered in kind, and it took only the faintest of tugs to usher him closer, Kedean’s thumbs on his charge’s hips sweeping up, tracing patterns there as if there wasn’t cloth in the way. When their bodies came together—separated only by too much wet cloth and the rainwater itself—he wasn’t quite sure who made the soft, panted sound of approval that broke between their lips. But it mattered little.
By the time the first breath parted them, barely an inch of space coming between their mouths and their foreheads staying together, Baisyl’s eyes were shut, dark wet lashes painting fine black lines on his cheeks like the bristles of a calligraphy brush, and Kedean leaned back and reached up, running a thumb over the wet cheek and brushing back rain as cautiously as one might brush away tears.
“So…” He spoke quietly, “…was that satisfactory?”
“Mm…” Baisyl’s lips curled up, playful, before his lashes lifted slowly, and warmth, with something else unreadable, danced in his eyes. “It was…very sweet,” he assessed, a teasing, coy note to his tone as he let one of his hands behind Kedean’s neck slide down, tracing a path partway along his throat before lifting it and following the line of his jaw, “…but you should know by now, I won’t break…” He let his fingers come to rest on Kedean’s chin, fanning out just beneath it, and his thumb made a slow half-circle up to trace the length of his lower lip. “Try again.”
The warmth of Kedean’s answering huff skirted over Baisyl’s thumb—and then he quite gladly obliged.
This time, Baisyl greeted him with a nip, catching Kedean’s lip with his teeth before running his tongue teasingly along it, inviting further exploration. Something of a growl answered him, and his fingers—which had left Kedean’s jaw line and slipped down, to the ‘v’ of his neck and shoulder—clenched as Kedean took the invitation, drawing Baisyl’s lip into his own mouth in turn, suckling, and then licking boldly between Baisyl’s lips and in, challenging Baisyl for dominance of the territory.
Baisyl gave a low groan of endorsement and met Kedean’s intrusion with equal vigor, taking the opportunity to let his hand on Kedean’s shoulder skirt down yet again. Pushing just enough under the cloth at the neck of Kedean’s tunic to draw his fingers over the flat, perfectly solid expanse of muscle at his chest, Baisyl made another brief, hummed sound of approval, and fought the battle at lip level more for the ride than the victory, eventually willingly surrendering at end game.
They drew apart more slowly the second time, and when they did, Baisyl whined shortly, irritated. Kedean smiled.
“What…” he asked, brushing the question along the line of Baisyl’s jaw, “…was that better?”
“It…mm…” Baisyl turned into him, catching his wandering lips in a quick, lighter—but still open-mouthed—kiss, and when he drew back their eyes met. “It was…passable,” he admitted, and Kedean’s eyebrows rose, though not without another spark of amusement. “Satisfactory, for now, but…we will certainly have to work on it, given time…”
“Ahh…” Kedean responded, by way of communicating his understanding, and he watched raindrops trace paths down his charge’s skin, skittering and then pausing before continuing on again, but catching often on his lips and lashes. “Well,” he conceded at last, “I suppose I can live with that…”
“I would…hope so,” Baisyl responded, and then asked abruptly, as if it had just occurred to him, “Who taught you to kiss?”
Kedean’s initial response was something between a snort and a laugh, but then he said neutrally, “My combat instructor at the imperial city in Kartuk Bhan…”
“Y—an
instructor?” Baisyl sounded beyond surprised, as well as—impressed? “You slept with a-”
“Kissed,” Kedean corrected pointedly. “I kissed an instructor…or rather he kissed me, and I tend to like to think he more…introduced me to the concept, so to speak, and that I’ve elaborated on it on my own since then. It was quite a long time ago.”
“Mm…” Baisyl still looked beyond curious. “You merely…strike me as far too well-behaved of a person to engage in such a…scandalous act of class-breeching for the sake of passion.”
“It wasn’t passionate,” Kedean said without inflection, “…and I find it interesting you should say that,” he observed further, “given the current situation.”
Baisyl waved him off. “It doesn’t bear comparing. First, a teacher-student relationship is by definition scandalous, class notwithstanding, and second…any wrong-doing—albeit non-existent—in our current situation is completely mine own. You,” He tapped a finger to Kedean’s chest, “are innocent.”
“I’m far from innocent.”
“Ah…yes, well,” Baisyl cleared his throat, “that is…in the given situation, speaking from a standpoint of…guilt versus…lack…thereof…” When he trailed off and Kedean chuckled, Baisyl pursed his lips. “You think I’m ridiculous.”
“I think you’re adorable.”
Baisyl winced. “I’d rather be ridiculous.”
Kedean smiled, but shook his head before Baisyl could object further, saying, “We should get in, or we’ll both catch cold.”
“You?” Baisyl scoffed. “Catch cold? Somehow I find it hard to picture you falling ill…” he said, but complied, starting to head towards the wagon.
“There’s a first time for everything,” Kedean commented, and Baisyl’s pace stuttered. He turned to look back.
“You’ve
never fallen ill?”
“Not that I remember,” Kedean answered plainly. “Why?”
“In your…entire life?” Baisyl pressed. “Not even when you were a child?” Kedean made no response, frowning. “And you don’t find that the least bit odd?”
“I…suppose I never had a fair basis for comparison, milord,” Kedean said at last, “…and I wasn’t inclined to question my good fate.”
Baisyl looked unconvinced, but didn’t press, and the next moment—seconds before Kedean opened his mouth to ask if he still wanted help getting in—he hefted himself up, effortlessly breeching the distance on his own. When he settled and looked back, he raised his eyebrows at Kedean’s look. “What?”
“Nothing at all, milord,” Kedean said, and followed suit.
“Where are you going?” Baisyl asked as soon as Kedean started to move, and he paused, caught between his charge—currently at a half-sit, leaned back and propped up on his elbows—and the bedding on the other side. “You can’t possibly be thinking about lying back down now…you’ll get everything soaked.”
Solid logic, though Kedean knew perfectly well where it was headed.
“Are you ever going to enlighten me on why you’re so hesitant?” Baisyl drawled at length, clearly perfectly aware as well that Kedean knew where he was headed and getting directly to the point as per usual. “It’s not that you’re not attracted to me, we’ve covered that…and it can’t even be that you’re unwilling to cross class barriers because you just did that moments ago…”
“It is actually very normal, you realize…” Kedean said, even as he consented to approach and kneel by Baisyl’s side, “…for two people to wait more than the span of but a few minutes after they first kiss before they explore each others’ bodies in their entirety…”
“Entirety?” Baisyl repeated, tilting his head to eye him, as if examining puzzle pieces. “Who said anything about entirety? Later, certainly, but not now…if I take off my clothes now I’ll dry far too quickly. Are you going to get over here or not?”
“I’m already-”
“No, you most certainly are not,” Baisyl cut in, and reached out, coiling his fingers into the front of Kedean’s tunic. When he tugged, guiding like a driver with the reigns, Kedean again found himself following without a fight, and gave a low, huffed grunt as Baisyl brought him in directly over him—a hand to either side of his charge’s head and one leg between Baisyl’s two, their faces again but a foot apart. “There…” Baisyl said, softer, “…
now you are over. Shall I tell you exactly what I want you to do from here?”
Kedean studied his charge, eyeing the games the shadows played on his eyes and lips and trying to piece together how exactly all his own previous actions had still managed to lead up to this specific scenario; he failed, and gave up. Thus, careful to arrange it right, he brought his knee in and leaned forward, angling it so that a moment later Baisyl gave a small, startled sound of surprise and a contained jerk as Kedean started to provide both friction and pressure to the notable arousal between his legs.
It grew more notable under the attention.
“Kedean-”
“No…” Kedean said, in belated answer to Baisyl’s previous question as he lowered his head, “…I think…” He placed a gentle, close-mouthed kiss on the juncture between Baisyl’s neck and jaw, hearing and feeling his answering hitch in breath, “…I have the general idea.”
“Ah…that’s—mnnh…that’s fan…tastic,” Baisyl responded, hips rolling up against Kedean’s leg, seeking pressure; he keened loudly when Kedean spared a hand to pin him back down, trapping him. “No, don’t—nnn…why-”
“You really don’t have any patience,” Kedean observed, taking amusement in the whined huff of irritation that Baisyl responded with. “Things feel better in the end if you’ve waited for them…”
“I—yes, of course I know that, but I don’t…” Baisyl shook his head, “…I don’t…
want…to wait…”
“So I see…” Kedean kissed the base of Baisyl’s throat, feeling the muscles beneath move as he swallowed in turn, “…but we have plenty of time.” He drew his tongue dartingly over Baisyl’s collar bone, tasting the skin there and noting the man’s pulse—rapid and prominent. “In this weather, without the sun, your clothes will be wet for hours…”
“Hour…hours?” Baisyl responded, a poorly-veiled tinge of desperation evident in his tone, and Kedean closed his eyes, pressing his smile to his charge’s chest. “Surely you don’t…actually mean to…”
Taking pity of a sort, Kedean shifted his hand on Baisyl’s hip and lifted his head, watching his charge’s face as he drew his fingers closer in. “Yes, m’lord,” he said seriously, “I have absolutely every intention…” Baisyl’s breath hitched as Kedean’s thumb teased within a quarter inch of where he so desperately wanted it, the center of his lower lip disappearing between his teeth, “…of making you wait…hours…” Baisyl panted around a groan, and without Kedean’s hand there to pin him, he arched.
He made the most delectable of noises when Kedean only responded by withdrawing both his hand and his leg, leaving nothing but empty space.
“
Ah—sonofawhore,” Baisyl swore in a hiss. “You’re a damnable tease…”
Kedean’s eyebrow’s notched up. “
I’m the tease?”
Baisyl’s lashes flitted up as he watched, his cheeks warm—but not from blushing—and his lips damp and parted. “I don’t tease…I deliver.”
“Ahh, I see,” Kedean said, and leaned up, moving until he was looming over his charge, much as he had been when Baisyl initially pulled him over, “…but by that definition, I’m not teasing either…I just happen to deliver at a slightly more…leisurely rate.”
Baisyl glowered, lifting hands to push at his chest—uselessly—as Kedean chuckled and lowered his head back down. Catching his charge’s sharp frown in a silencing kiss, he savored the taste of Baisyl’s healthy moan when he finally slid his hand in, drawing his fingers boldly up the length of his charge’s trapped erection.
“F—nnn…” The pushing hands on Kedean’s chest became clutching ones, circling back over his shoulders and behind his neck, burying themselves in his hair and clinging. He licked into Baisyl’s mouth as he panted, and made quick work of the buckles at his belt.
Whether or not his charge thought so, Kedean certainly considered this to be moving extremely fast—but perhaps they’d find time for more lengthy and thorough encounters later, depending on what, exactly, Baisyl wanted out of this relationship—and so he pushed the thought from his mind, letting his fingers paint a brief trail along the smooth, flat line of his charge’s stomach just above the waist of his pants.
Baisyl shivered, and squirmed, restlessly needy. “Kedean-”
Obligingly, Kedean slid his fingers under the wet garments, pushing the cool, clinging damp cloth aside. When he circled his hand around the hard heat of Baisyl’s erection, Baisyl moaned beautifully: head tilted back, neck gently arched, and lips open. And Kedean decided abruptly in that moment that he wanted very much to take the man—to push his bothersome clothes further out of the way, down to his knees or ankles, turn him over and see what sounds he made with a body inside him.
But that hadn’t seemed to be in Baisyl’s plan for the night, and while Kedean felt relatively certain he could still get away with it, he opted not to push his luck. If Baisyl wanted some release so badly, he could give him that, and find some on his own later.
It was with that in mind that he set up a pace—steady, but clearly not so fast as Baisyl might have liked—drawing his hand in smooth, practiced motions over the source of his charge’s arousal and feeling the eager cock twitch in his hand when he swept a thumb over the head or changed up the tempo, teasing just to hear Baisyl whine.
The fingers in his hair clenched and released, Baisyl’s dwindling patience and heightening need evident in the way his hips became progressively bolder—barely quivering at first with the reigned desire to buck, but gradually moving with increasing urgency. Now, they rocked in time with Kedean’s hand, half arching into each stroke and half grinding for extra friction against what of Kedean’s leg he could reach.
When Baisyl’s breathing took on a notably more heavy, ragged quality and his movements started to lose grace, Kedean worked his way free of Baisyl’s grip on his neck—to his charge’s muddled disapproval—and sat back to free up his second hand. With it, he tugged the hem of Baisyl’s shirt completely free of his already loose trousers, and began unfastening buttons. After reaching about midway, though, he stopped and pushed the opened cloth to the sides, baring a wide swath of well-muscled, vanilla pale skin. Then, he moved back down.
By the time he settled, Baisyl was two good strokes from tipping over, and if Kedean hadn’t enlisted his mouth as a sound buffer when he did, they may well have woken several wagons worth of sleeping travelers. As it was, Kedean gave a low grunt of his own, making something of a wince when he tasted metallic, liquid heat in his mouth—apparently Baisyl hadn’t been kidding when he said he bit—but he kept his hand moving at a declining pace anyway, milking the last shudders out of his charge’s spent body until he stilled.
“Sorry…” Baisyl mumbled blearily, as soon as he had the breath to, “…about that…”
“About what?” Kedean asked neutrally, running his tongue once absently over the bust in his lip to assess the damage before—determining it to be harmlessly minimal—lifting his hand from between Baisyl’s legs and cleaning it with his mouth. When Baisyl took his time to respond, Kedean looked, and found his charge’s eyes transfixed on the path of his tongue over his fingers. He stilled. “Something the matter, milord?”
“N—uhh…no,” Baisyl responded. “Nothing. I just didn’t…expect…”
This time, Kedean kept his eyes on his charge as he moved down, lowering himself to the bared plane of Baisyl’s stomach and paying the same treatment to the warm, translucent stains on the area there as he had to his fingers, lapping them slowly up and studying Baisyl’s reaction as he went. Baisyl Merseille, in his natural body, blushing out of pure sexual embarrassment? That, Kedean never expected to see, and his chuckle rumbled thickly of its own accord. Above him, a half-hearted glower joined the blush on Baisyl’s face.
“You’re laughing at me,” Baisyl accused.
Kedean placed a kiss on his charge’s belly before sitting back up, shaking his head. “Not at all.”
“You don’t…didn’t have to do that,” Baisyl said, more quietly. “I could have gone back outside and rinsed it off…”
“You could have,” Kedean agreed, “…but then you would have deprived me of that priceless look on your face…”
“You
were laughing at me!” Baisyl repeated, sitting up, but before Kedean could deny it again, a tongue—not his own—darted over his lip, silencing him as it traced the broken skin, apologetically gently. Baisyl’s teeth came next, retracing his steps except that again, he barely grazed the skin, taking extreme care not to do any further damage. “That…” Baisyl said, when he drew back, “…is what I was apologizing for.”
Kedean’s eyes had closed at some point during the process, and when he opened them, they fell on the loose strands of hair that had fallen across Baisyl’s forehead, some of them partly dry now, but other’s still clinging damply. At least the rest of his clothes were still fairly well soaked.
“Oh, that,” he said finally, “…don’t mind that. I barely noticed.”
“Mm.”
Kedean looked down, meeting his charge’s eyes—inches away, mottled blue-green, and intent. “So…now you’ll sleep, milord?” Baisyl groaned, and Kedean raised his eyebrows. “What-”
“
No,” Baisyl answered before Kedean got anywhere with his second question and fell back onto his back with his groan. “Mother Mele, how selfish do you think I am?” His hands went to his pants, putting himself back together and refastening belts as he spoke. “I’m
spoilt…not cruel,” he insisted. “Roll over.”
“Roll—?”
“Yes, roll…or lay, just—lie down,” Baisyl commanded. “Get onto your back. Honestly, I don’t particularly care how you manage it, simply make sure that you’re comfortable, facing upwards, and that your cock will be accessible by my mouth.”
Kedean cleared his throat, heat rising in his cheeks despite all at the bluntness of the remark. “Ah…milord, you don’t hav-”
“No,” Baisyl agreed, and—finished with his clothes—he sat up. “I’m well aware that in the game we’re playing there are a rare few things, if any at all, which I absolutely
must do…on the other hand…” He caught Kedean’s shoulder, giving a guiding nudge, and before Kedean knew it, he was allowing himself to be pushed to the side and onto his back; he drew a sharp breath not to groan when Baisyl straddled him, “…this,” Baisyl said, looming over him much as he had over his charge not so long ago, “…is the move I am
choosing to make. Now will you permit me to make it or not?”
Kedean opted to nod instead of embarrassing himself by trying to speak.
“Good.” Baisyl smiled. “Oh,” he added, as if on afterthought, “…and Mister Akuwa?”
“Ah…yes, my lord?”
His smile was thoroughly amused as much as it was teasing. “You are by far the most difficult lover I have ever had…”
“Ah…oh.” Kedean blinked, and then frowned as he dropped his head back, shutting his eyes and stubbornly reminding himself that the beautiful man now moving down to settle between his legs was not, in fact, reason enough to stop breathing
or lose complete control of his senses. His lungs and senses begged to differ. “Are we…are we lovers, then? Already?” he asked, and had to look to see Baisyl’s eyebrows notch up.
“Well, I suppose it was only the
most fitting and
least crude term that came to mind over the span of about a half a second, but if you personally object to it or have a better suggestion, then I am certainly open to any thoughts…” Baisyl said amiably.
“Er…”
“In fact, I’d be quite willing to stay right here, exactly as I am, and discuss the issue with you for as long as you want, should that be your desire…”
Kedean eyed his charge—nestled between his legs, chin propped up on his palms, eyes wide and about as ‘innocent’ as Baisyl could ever manage to look, with his lips about two inches from the ridge in Kedean’s pants. Kedean dropped his head back to the floor.
“‘Lovers’ is fantastic,” he asserted. He heard Baisyl chuckle.
“How long has it been since you took someone to bed with you?”
Kedean pursed his lips, attention torn between the firm, but leisurely strokes Baisyl’s hand was now providing to his fully awake—but confined—erection, and the panicked thought that his charge might actually want to
talk through the entire ordeal. Or at least all the way up to the fact, seeing as once he finally decided to remove Kedean’s pants from the picture, there wouldn’t be enough spare room in his mouth for words.
Thus, his eventual response came in the form of a somewhat befuddled, “Uhhn…I’m not…sure?”
“Mm…” Baisyl hummed, and his lips mouthed, once, over the shape of Kedean’s cock through the wet cloth, the heat of his breath and mouth potent by contrast; Kedean groaned without meaning to. “Man or woman?”
“Ah…” Kedean scrunched his eyes tighter shut, thoughts foggy and tangled as he tried to remember. Was this some sort of test?
How long
had it been since he slept with someone?
Perhaps the fact that he honestly couldn’t recall was sign that it had been too long. When Baisyl’s fingers started working open the fastenings on his pants, Kedean forgot for a moment that he was supposed to be answering a question.
Then his charge paused. “Well?”
That lent some urgency to the situation. “Oh-ahh…nn—woman, woman I think…I’m not…positive.”
“And you said
I needed to relax and have more fun…” And then: “Oh, my.”
Kedean blinked, eyes opening to face the ceiling, and he directed his question the same way, “What is it?”
“It…mm…nothing,” Baisyl said unconvincingly. “I’m sure…proportionally…it’s quite average.”
After the moment it took him to realize what exactly his charge was referring to, Kedean broke into a helpless grin, reserving all his strength to keep from laughing aloud. At length, he managed to respond, “I’m sure you’re completely right, milord.”
A contained huff followed—proceeded almost immediately by wet, slick heat on his length. And Kedean more or less stopped thinking.
It could be fairly said that Baisyl seemed to know what he was doing.
Wet, open-mouthed kisses started at the base and then moved slowly, patiently up to the tip, at which point a hot, darting tongue slicked over the head, and then curled around it, drawing it promptly between Baisyl’s lips. He let a certain amount of saliva gather in his cheeks as he went, so that when he started drawing Kedean progressively deeper into his mouth, the added liquid heat encompassed his target, effectively ruining Kedean’s ability to process anything beyond the fact that Baisyl was now
suckling around his cock as he looped his tongue to either side.
All this Kedean felt, but dared not yet watch, lest he end things far too soon.
Then, fingers circled the base, joining in to stroke in time with Baisyl’s mouth to make up for the fact that he’d only taken about half of Kedean in thus far, if that. Not that Kedean was complaining. Few made it much farther than that, and only one in his lifetime—a whore—had managed to take him all the way in; he still had no idea how she’d done it, as he must have been halfway down her throat. In any case, it wasn’t terribly long after that that Kedean gave in to the urge to push himself up on his elbows, just enough to catch a glimpse.
As expected, from the first glance he knew the sight would be his undoing, the already ample heat in his gut pooling and knotting tightly. And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to shut his eyes again, either.
Soft, sleek pink lips circled him, strikingly fair in juxtapose to his own skin, but appealingly so, as it made Baisyl’s cheeks look all the more soft and aglow by contrast. His lashes and hair, similarly, stood out starkly, indistinguishable from black in the night, and a sudden, sharp desire to reach out, sift his fingers into that hair, and cradle his hand at the back of his charge’s neck as he pleasured him struck with startling force. Then, noticing his change in position, Baisyl’s lashes lifted, his eyes rising to meet Kedean’s dead on. And that was nearly that right then and there but for an impressive show of self-restraint.
But Baisyl was having none of it. Holding his gaze, he took him another inch deeper, definitely at least partway into his throat, and, winking, he started to swallow.
Between wicked, teasing green eyes, a hot, curling tongue, and the convulsions of his charge’s throat—warm, wet, and welcoming—around him, Kedean came undone in a matter of seconds and groaned thickly, his entire body tensing as a unit as all the knotted coils in his gut unwound at once.
He meant to open his mouth and provide some sort of warning, but quickly found that
not thrusting up unheeded into Baisyl’s mouth took about all the concentration he could spare, and it seemed his charge had things handled anyway, taking his release when it came with all possible grace and swallowing the largest part of it at outset. Anything he missed, he lapped up lazily as he provided Kedean with the same treatment he’d received earlier—in essence, milking him thoroughly through the duration of his downward spiral and ceasing only when his body stilled completely.
He allowed Kedean a moment of blissful, afterglow silence.
Then, he asked, “Now, see, was that so bad?”
Kedean, who had closed his eyes again at some point, opened one and turned it on his charge. “I suppose that depends somewhat on what angle you’re looking at it from…” Baisyl’s eyebrows arched elegantly upwards, “…but from here, no, it was very, very pleasant…you’re quite good at that.”
Baisyl smirked. “Oh…how sweet of you to say so…” he cooed, crawling up Kedean’s body and stilling only when Kedean pushed himself up, meeting him halfway. “I’ll taste like-” he started to warn when Kedean reached out, catching his chin, but Kedean kissed him before he finished, drawing his tongue over the valley between Baisyl’s lips and tasting himself on his charge’s tongue when their mouths opened to each other.
As close as they were, Kedean felt Baisyl’s shiver against him, noted that his charge was at least half-hard again through his clothes, and for a moment, he entertained the thought of pushing for more—of actually taking the man under him and seeing to it that he came again, this time with Kedean buried well inside him.
Despite knowing that his body would be happy to perform again in minutes, though, Kedean resisted for practicality’s sake. They needed to sleep, and Baisyl needed to dry; however much his charge preferred himself this way, being cold and wet for extended periods of time was never good for one’s overall well-being. Thus, he ended the kiss gently, and let his hand come to rest at Baisyl’s hip without taking any detours.
“We need sleep,” he prescribed.
Baisyl hummed in semi-reluctant agreement, nodding without opening his eyes.
“You should dry off.”
Baisyl’s eyes opened, brows furrowed. “I don’t want-”
“This…” Kedean ran a hand over a still-wet section of Baisyl’s hair, and then motioned to the rest of his clothes, “…isn’t healthy. You’ll get sick.”
“I feel fine,” Baisyl mumbled, but it lacked conviction. Kedean waited. At last, his charge sighed, his surrender coming in the form of a disgruntled, “You’d best wring your clothes out as well…” as he crawled off of Kedean’s lap and brought hands to his vest front.
For a moment, the words didn’t register, Kedean’s eyes transfixed by the movement of Baisyl’s fingers as they worked over his clothes, unfastening first his vest, and then—after shedding it—slipping deftly over the smaller, finer buttons on his shirt. When he finished, he stopped suddenly, hands at his shoulders, in the middle of shucking it completely.
“Are you quite enjoying the show?” he asked. “I could make it more exotic if you like.”
Kedean wrestled his gaze away, but still saw his charge’s lean, tastefully defined abdomen in the forefront of his mind’s eye several moments after looking elsewhere. It drove home the fact that he’d never actually seen Baisyl fully shirtless—at least, as a man.
“No, it’s…quite alright,” he responded, starting to follow Baisyl’s previous suggestion and reaching to shed his own shirt. “You may…” He pulled the cloth over his head, “…continue as you were.”
Without a backwards glance, he moved to the lip of the wagon, wrung out his shirt to whatever extent it could be at that point, and leaned back on his haunches, considerate. Was he really to strip naked and provide the same treatment to his pants?
“You can’t possibly still be shy…” his charge mused aloud, as if reading his thoughts, and Kedean spared him a glance. On his knees, hands folded over his still-clothed thighs but bare from the waist up, Baisyl tilted his head. “I’m quite familiar with the merchandise below your belt now, so it’s really quite pointless to act chaste.”
Kedean snorted, and shook his head, though there was a ghost of a smile on his lips as he unwound his wrung-up tunic top and slipped it over his head—large enough, unbelted, to cover the essentials—before reaching for his pants.
“You’ve met once,” he said, stepping out of his lower garments. “I’d hardly call that ‘familiar’…and there is nothing wrong with displaying a little modesty, even when one
is reasonably…familiar with their company.” He wrung out his pants.
“Are you calling me immodest?” Baisyl asked, joining him on the lip of the wagon to wring out his own clothes, and when Kedean looked up, he found his charge stark naked.
“Ah…” Well. He had a nice ass. That, at least, was good news. Kedean cleared his throat. “You have many…positive and…admirable characteristics, my lord,” he answered at length. “I…can’t honestly say that modesty is among them, though, no.”
Baisyl chuckled. “No…I don’t suppose you could,” he admitted, and when he finished, he looked over.
His expression was mingled, soft, but otherwise unreadable as he drew his eyes over Kedean, the look distinct in some way from any look he could ever remember the man giving him, though he couldn’t have pinpointed how. Then, as if coming sharply to his senses, Baisyl turned away again, lowering his head.
“I think…” he said, without looking up, “…if I wear these now, like this, they should be dry by morning, don’t you think?”
His clothes, Kedean realized, and frowned. “It would be…better, I think, if-”
“I’ll sleep better like this,” Baisyl said, keeping his eyes down, though Kedean still saw his brows furrow, and something in him went out to the man. He couldn’t bring himself to press his point.
“Then I’m sure it’ll be fine, milord. You’re right, the warmth of your body will probably dry them by morning, now that they’re already wrung out…” ‘…
which says nothing about the fact that they’re still damp and cold and will be until they dry, meaning your body will be kept chilled most of the night and…’ But Baisyl’s flicker of a surprised, grateful smile overrode Kedean’s logic far too easily, and he sighed in defeat, leaving the rest of the sentence unspoken and re-dressing himself instead.
Though damp still, there was nothing for it, and he climbed beneath the bedding fully dressed. Baisyl joined him without pause or question, fitting himself against him much as he had as a woman and startling him mildly at first, but he quickly adjusted, making room. This way, Baisyl filled out his embrace much more fully, fitting into him as opposed to being swallowed up by him, and Kedean found himself smiling with a peculiar revelation.
“You know, milord…”
“Mm?”
“I believe I’ve changed my mind as well.”
Baisyl tensed, though he tried clearly to hide it moments later and kept his tone strictly neutral when he asked, “About what?” and for a moment, Kedean wanted only to reassure him—to run his lips over cheek and neck and shoulder and string their fingers together until he relaxed properly.
Instead he sighed, and placed a kiss the man probably couldn’t feel on the back of his head, answering, “I like you better this way.”
“Oh?” The tension eased, and there was a smile in his voice, though again, he was clearly trying to sound as impartial and disinterested as possible. “And why ever for?” he asked. “Because I can actually serve a useful purpose this way?”
“That…never occurred to me,” Kedean admitted, not bothering to mask his amusement, “…but no, I like you better because…you like yourself better, and it shows quite clearly. You’re more relaxed, and you smile more…and you laugh easier.”
“Mm…” Baisyl wriggled back into him, perhaps a quarter-inch closer, and sought his hand out, catching it and re-arranging it over him like repositioning a favorite blanket. After finding a satisfactory position, he murmured softly—so much so that Kedean wondered if it was even meant to be heard, “After you find your brother, you should run away with me…”
Kedean stilled very briefly, startled. “Run away?” he repeated, and ran his thumb curiously over the fingers now in his grasp. “From what, and where to?”
“From…” Baisyl yawned, “…everything, and to…anywhere. Someplace with elephants,” he decided, and Kedean gave in to another, smaller, smile, bending his head forward and placing a last, silent kiss into the cool, rapidly-drying dark locks before him.
“Get some rest, milord,” he advised softly, and Baisyl soon obliged. When the slow, peaceful sound of his charge’s deep breathing meshed with the quiet titter of the night’s rain, Kedean had a long road yet to travel before he found sleep.
Despite the frivolous nature with which his charge had thrown it out there, his mind visited and revisited his last suggestion, turning over any number of possible intentions and implications behind the words. Did Baisyl want to be…what? Rescued? Whisked away to a foreign land to escape his family and history and never look back as if that alone could erase all his troubles?
Probably not, Kedean decided. Not realistically, in any case. Baisyl struck him as at least slightly more grounded than all that. And yet, Baisyl’s situation was complicated, and the thought process naturally lead to any number of additional, equally difficult to resolve topics relating to the unwitting man in his arms.
What
would he do with him after he found his brother? Stars, what was he
doing with him now?
From a practical standpoint, he shouldn’t have slept with him; it certainly didn’t solve anything and had every possibility of making things immensely more complicated, at least between the two of them. Yet, he didn’t honestly regret it, either, despite the logistic foolishness of it, and it wasn’t as if he was pushing the man or leading him on. Far from it.
Still, while he hadn’t been able to bring himself to simply leave the man dead on his feet at the inn, and he admittedly felt an obligation of sorts to protect him, he couldn’t very well take the man everywhere with him forever. But then, Baisyl surely knew that, too, and he didn’t seem like the clingy, sappy romantic type so much as the type who spotted something they liked, pursued it until they got it, played with it until it bored them, and then moved on.
It was ideal, really.
Building a romance would be nothing short of foolhardy, given all the constraints of their situation, so what more could he ask for than an attractive, sharply intelligent young man who made as engaging company in the night as he did in the day? Kedean found himself frowning into the darkness.
Nothing more, he answered himself stubbornly. He couldn’t possibly ask for more than that. He didn’t want more than that, didn’t
deserve…
Baisyl stirred in his arms, a soft, almost pained sound escaping him—a breath of a whine—and Kedean felt the shift as his charge’s body shrank against him, his waist winnowing down, shoulders narrowing, hands going petite in Kedean’s grasp, and a soft, full mane of hair seeming to materialize out of nothingness between them. When the changes stopped, Baisyl shivered in his sleep, and Kedean shut his eyes, something in his chest tightening without him meaning it too.
He drew the man closer, running a thumb absently tenderly over his knuckles and wondering, against his better judgment, if Moreah might be able to help him with that curse, once they got to Carthak; she still owed him one, after all.
Colony of Ire, the Boar’s Tusk “One more! One more ‘n I…swear…swear s’all wrapped up!”
Someone across the table laughed—though he couldn’t make out who, their face too blurry—and the dice before him faded in and out of focus twice before he scowled at it, blinking and forcing it back into alignment.
“Y’kin barely speak, Ally,” whoever it was that had laughed said, “…give it up…’n yer broke besides…we don’t wantcha t’ start strippin’.”
“Ain’t quite so desperate as all that,” someone else added with a chuckle and Alroy shook his head. He stopped when his head started spinning.
“Ney, ney,” he insisted instead, “…ain’t broke yet, I still ‘ave…still…’ave…” He frowned, lips pursing sloppily together as his fingers fumbled drunkenly through his open coat pocket. Was it really all gone already? He leaned the most of his weight against the closest solid thing, trying to dig deeper in his pockets.
When his prodding fingers forced a new hole through the poor-quality stitching, he sighed thickly.
“Right, right, alrigh’, how’s’is…” He put two hands down on the table before him, long-since empty mug of ale clacking against the cheap wood and several ashes dropping from his smoke in the other hand. “’F you all win on me again…I’ll owe yous twice as what I do now an’ then some…” When his fellow players looked dubious—at least, the ones whose faces he could make out—he spread his arms, if gracelessly. “C’mon…y’ll know I’ma be back ‘n…day’s time, no less…hm? An’…trustworthy as steel…defnilly…”
Unfortunately, just as he started to spot a few reluctant nods, of consent, a heavy hand fell on his shoulder. In his state, it nearly dropped him—but not quite.
“Wha’th’ell, eh? Wha’ ‘n gods names y’think ya wan’ with-”
“Alroy Derring?”
Oh. Security. A soldier, it looked like—a peace keeper, hired by the bar most likely, to keep things in check in the later parts of the night.
Alroy squinted. “Aye…?” he offered at last. “Tha’d be th’ name meh momma gave me lo’ those many years ago…though couldn’ quite tell ya how many tha’d be at the momen-”
“There’s someone at the front looking for you.”
“Mmmm…” Alroy dragged the sound out thoughtfully, wondering how old the soldier was and whether it was the late hour or lack of a decent sex life that made his face so straight-edged and dull, “…does this…someone…‘ave long legs ‘n a cute arse?”
Though chuckles and low whistles tittered up behind him, the soldier’s expression remained impassive, and he made no reply.
Definitely lack of sex, Alroy decided. He grinned messily. “’Kay then. Ack-shully…could they wait another bit, y’think? ‘Cause I’m just ‘bout ready t-”
“No,” the other replied coolly, and Alroy notched his eyebrows up. Or, he hoped he did, because he couldn’t really feel his forehead much, for some reason.
“Alllllrighty, then…I’ll just…uhh…” He frowned, turning in a slow, full circle before coming back to face the now-clearly-irritated soldier. Amazing, how turning in a full circle worked like that. “Which way’s’th’door ‘gain?”
The soldier pointed.
Alroy smiled broadly, tipping an imaginary hat. “Thank ya…kin’ly…I’ll be on my way then, gentlemen and la…er…” He squinted again, “…jus’ gentlemen. Don’ mind me, I’ll be fine…”
He only tripped twice, and was only sworn at once on his way out. He swore, though, when he made it outside.
“Fffffrig—hells and heavens, it’s damn colder than a mergirl’s tit out ‘ere, who in-”
“Are you as drunk as you smell?”
“Ohh—nnnn…hunh?” He turned. Whoever it was, they were shorter than him, and they wore a hood and cloak. Smart. Why didn’t he think of that? Oh. ‘Cause it wasn’t raining and sleet cold the last time he-
“Alroy, did you hear me?”
“Oh, right, yeah, umm…drunk…err…no…yes…a ‘lil…maybe…y’know, uh…prolly drunker than I, uhh…drunker than I…spell? Is tha’ wha’ y’said? Who’re you?”
When the hood pulled back, Alroy blinked, surprised by the soft frown on such otherwise pale and beautiful features. He stared, curiously mesmerized by familiar seagreen eyes as smooth fingers caught his wrist and pulled him back under the protection of the overhang, out of the rain.
A/N: Oh, please review this chapter. After all this time, I'm still insecure about posting sex scenes, and for all the chapters that I made you wait for it, I still have to hope you don't feel like it was rushed. Obviously, Kedean and Baisyl still have a looooong road ahead of them, relationship and plot wise, but rest assured there will be more explicit content along the way (as well as that aforementiontioned plot). Yeah, lots more plot.
Hope you enjoyed yourself? :) Until next time...
