The colored silk pinned to the walls covered their bedroom in a soft haze. Sandalwood incense weighted the air, wrapping the room in its fragrant blanket. Toriayne scratched his hair and let his wig slide to the floor. Belsamel stood behind him and held his arms against the other man’s waist, urging him to bed.
Toriayne followed, letting the heavy dress slip off his shoulders. The gold coins decorating its hems jingled as it drifted to the floor. He felt so much lighter without the padding required by his female costume. Belsamel extended his hand as his lover slid between the sheets. Torianye bowed his head to kiss the dark skin on his king’s wrist.
Tori felt Belsamel’s lips on his spine. The king drew a line of kisses up the side of his neck. One dark hand caressed his bare chest, and the other reached between his legs. Toriayne grasped his husband’s hand in his, “Not tonight.”
“Is something troubling you?” Belsamel removed his hands and began massaging his shoulders.
Toriayne sighed, “What the counsel said today has been weighing on my mind.”
Belsamel ran his fingers through Toriayne’s ashen curls. “The counsel will never tear us apart, Tori. I love you.”
“I don’t worry about the council,” Toriayne traced his fingers along the patterns in their blanket. “I worry because I know I cannot provide you with a son.”
His hands stopped. “We will worry about that when the time comes.”
“That’s the thing, Bel, the time is here.”
Belsamel put his hands on Toriayne’s chest. “It is not here until I say it is here. I am a king, and you have my word that time is not here.”
Toriayne bit his lip but ran his fingers down Belsamel’s cheek. “Words, especially those of kings, can be dangerous.”
Belsamel turned Toriayne’s face toward his, planting a kiss on his forehead. “Tori, I am the one who loves you. You were a simple tailor, and I made you into royalty. You will never find anyone who loves you as much as I do. Who would accept a man who wears women’s clothing?”
Toriayne’s lips parted, but before he could say anything, Belsamel kissed his open mouth. As he withdrew, he whispered, “I love you. I rescued you, and you belong with me.”
---View on Tumblr: [link]
- 080/100 Themes.
Writing these two is all about making them say what they aren't saying to each other.More Art/Writing Featuring These Characters:
Toriayne and Belsamel su'Akhar belong to Grace Fong,