Airie

“Don’t go yet,” Dusan said. “It’s early.”

“I must. Tobias is waiting.”

Reijo turned away from the table on which he kept his lotions and jewelry. He had his new outfit on—a multi-layered garment in yellows and reds that looked striking on him, like pretty much anything he wore. Local fashion suited him well. In the weeks that had passed since their arrival to the palace, Reijo had made quite a few high-standing friends who were happy to shower the handsome newcomer with gifts. He’d also begun to receive a weekly allowance from the king, which enabled him to explore the city’s bustling shops and markets, sometimes accompanied by Dusan—and sometimes by Tobias.

“You spend too much time with him,” Dusan said.

Despite acquiring a few new outfits of his own—most chosen and paid for by Reijo—Dusan didn’t need to go anywhere today, so he still had his tunic on, and the pants he slept in. Tobias was taking Reijo to look for herbs today, and, as usual, Dusan wasn’t invited.

“He’s amazing, though,” Reijo said, dreamily. “He’s teaching me good things, but I’m not a very good student. When I mix the ingredients, nothing happens. He must be a genius to make them work. We met that woman on the market the last time, looking all crooked and sick. He rubbed one of his ointments into her neck, and you could just see her spine straighten! Quite a crowd gathered to watch.”

“I bet he got a round of applause.”

“No, people tend to see him as a warlock rather than a healer. They’re scared of him, but he’s fine with that. Fear makes them keep their distance.”

“Aren’t you afraid of him?”

“Why would I be? He’s smart, and he’s teaching me things I could use later. Healing is a useful skill.” Reijo shrugged, attaching a long earring to his left ear—yet another item of strange local fashion. “You should be looking for a new occupation for yourself as well. You’re doing nothing all day, that’s why you’re so annoyed when I go out and do stuff.”

“I’m not annoyed.” Dusan walked over and slid his hands around Reijo’s waist, hugging him from behind. “It’s just that you spend more time with him than me.”

“We could spend the evening together.”

“Why not the morning? It’s cloudy, anyway—not a good weather to gather herbs.”

“It’ll be sunny in an hour.”

“You never get it wrong, do you?” Dusan hummed. “If your go on like that, the king might decide he wants to keep you.”

“Isn’t that the goal?” Within the circle of Dusan’s arms, Reijo turned to face him. “Would you rather leave? This place is wonderful. We have everything we need.”

“I know you like it here, but I’m bored. I’ve got nothing to do.”

“We could think of something you could to.”

Slowly, Reijo’s arms pulled Dusan’s tunic up until they reached the waistband of his pants, and then slid inside, finding the growing hardness, then caressing it. Dusan closed his eyes and leaned into the touch.

“What could I do here?” he muttered, his brain beginning to struggle with words as Reijo’s hands went up and down his length, stroking him. “Everyone sees me as your servant.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Reijo murmured, the movements of his hands gradually pushing all objections out of Dusan’s mind. “I like being served by you. You don’t seem to hate it, either.”

Dusan growled, pulling Reijo’s hands out and almost dragging him towards the bed. Reijo fell backwards on the coveralls, laughing, and Dusan was upon him in a moment, working desperately to find access to the body wrapped in those infuriating layers of colorful fabric. The local garments were so annoying when it came to undressing.

“Careful, don’t tear it!” Reijo was still laughing a bit, but his face was flustered, and his fast breathing betraying his own eagerness for some skin-to-skin contact. At last, the laces underneath the garment that held the whole construction together were found and untied, and Dusan pushed the hated mass of fabric off Reijo’s shoulder and kicked it off the bed. No matter what fancy clothes Reijo wore, and how good he looked at them, Dusan preferred him naked.

Getting rid of Dusan’s shirt and pants was less of a challenge, and then they were finally lying next to each other, kissing, their arms and legs intertwined, every inch of their bodies aching for more contact.

Dusan slid lower, kissing Reijo chest, then his belly, savoring his every shudder and every little gasp. When he glanced up, Reijo was looking down at him with the now familiar hunger in his eyes, the need that Dusan had ignited in him, and that only he could now satisfy. Wordlessly, Reijo flipped onto his stomach underneath him, an invitation that Dusan couldn’t refuse. He reached out and grabbed the little bottle of oil from the bedside table and poured some on his hands before returning them to Reijo’s body.

“Ah…” Reijo gasped when he finally pushed inside, trying to take it slow, barely able to hold back. “Yes… Yes, like that…”

Dusan growled, kissing Reijo’s neck, fighting the urge to sink his teeth into the smooth skin, the almost cannibalistic urge to consume his lover completely. Reijo washisnow, body and soul, and no one could separate them. It felt like he was claiming him, again and again, with every thrust, their bodies moving as one, gradually finding their rhythm.

These were the moments that were worth everything for Dusan, when they could be together like this, with everyone and everything else fading away. When they made love, he didn’t feel like a servant. He felt like Reijo’s owner, and Reijo was only too glad to be possessed. His body shuddered and writhed in response to Dusan’s thrusts, each of them pushing their sensations towards the inevitable release. This was the dance they’d been learning together, and as long as it lasted, Dusan’s world was perfect.

“Damn,” Reijo whispered later, as they lay side by side, catching their breaths. “Just the thought of getting dressed again.”

“Don’t.” Dusan leaned over and planted a kiss on Reijo’s shoulder, his skin glittering with sweat. “Stay with me. Let’s spend the day in bed.”

“Hey.” Reijo slapped him lightly on the arm, then rolled to his side and slid out of the bed. “Don’t be so clingy. I told you, Tobias is waiting.”

“I’m getting jealous about that Tobias,” Dusan said, eyeing the perfect lines of Reijo’s body as he moved around the room, comfortable in his nakedness, picking up his clothes from the floor.

“I’ve noticed.” Reijo glanced at him over his shoulder and smiled. “But no matter how I spend my days, I always get back to you—isn’t that all that matters?”

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