Chapter Text
Kiem Tegnar leaned against the kitchen island while he watched his partner scrolling through the Holofeed across from him on the barstool. Jainan, who had seemed to him at first the nerve-racking picture of propriety, was laughing. Someone unfamiliar with Jainan’s little quirks and tells wouldn’t call it laughing, but Kiem knew. He saw the subtle flair of his partner’s nostrils and the way his cheek indented as he bit at the inside of his mouth to keep it quiet.
Jainan’s chest shook. Eventually, he couldn’t stand it.
Even with Kiem he tried to keep his joy to a minimum as if he were still afraid someone would come along to squash it.
But he was getting better.
“Is this true?” Jainan’s words came out as little more than air. Just one push in the right direction and Kiem was sure Jainan would fall into hysterics, and possibly off the barstool. “D-did you r-really—?”
He coughed, regaining his sense of composure.
“Did you really request the release of penguins at the Imperial Games?”
Jainan’s straight face was giving way.
Oh. Oh, that must have been mentioned next.
“It’s not like penguins aren’t always released at the opening ceremonies,” said Kiem. “They fly overhead and look quite majestic. I know I caught a glimpse of you in attendance before we were married. Don’t act ignorant.”
“Ignorant?”
Jainan snorted so hard he choked on his tea.
“Iskat penguins maybe, but you had the gamekeepers unleash—”
“Don’t say it!”
“Thean penguins!”
Right on cue, he fell off the barstool, absolutely howling.
It was worth the humiliation, Kiem thought, to see Jainan so beside himself. He had the most wonderful laugh, like donkeys braying.
“Th-The-Thean penguins!” He had to hold his gut. “How did I not know about this? How did you keep it from me? I would have told you! Thean penguins can’t fly.”
Yes, Kiem could only imagine the spectacle that would have caused had the Emperor and the Games Coordinator not insisted on full dress rehearsals for both athletes and animals.
Better to have the whole of the Iskaner Imperial swim team laughing at him than the entire Empire.
“What kind of penguin can’t fly?” Kiem asked. “This is your fault! You showed them to me at the zoo and said they were your favourite animal.”
Kiem froze in place, only just realizing that he’d committed a cardinal sin in his household. One was never , even jokingly, to say that anything was Jainan’s fault without him turning grey and quiet, but it appeared that Jainan was so amused, he hadn’t noticed.
Again, Kiem was thankful that his stupidity had apparently reached an all-time high.
How the devil was he supposed to know a bloody thing about penguins? Why did all the off-world animals have to be so downright weird?
“Imagine it!” Jainan crawled up the barstool and steadied himself on the sink. “Two thousand of the little beasts waddling across the open lawn, shitting on everything and fancying a dip in the pools, meanwhile you — Is this true, by the way? — assure the Imperial Zoologists that they’ll take flight at any moment. Good gods!” Jainan squinted his eyes at the leaked vid. “ Are you in the pool?”
“The Emperor told me if I didn’t round up all two thousand of them then the penguins wouldn’t be the only ones getting exiled back to Thea.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wanted it to be a surprise,” shrugged Kiem. “And then it was just too humiliating. Oh, well. I suppose we can laugh about it now. Though I wonder how the media got their hands on the story after all this time…”
“It was a full dress rehearsal, darling. Everyone saw it but me, apparently.”
“Oh, don’t sulk.” Kiem topped off Jainan’s tea and kissed him on the back of the head. “There’ll be plenty more planetary events for me to single-handedly sabotage. Though I can’t say I’ll be invited back to consult opening ceremonies any time soon. It’s a thirty-year ban at least.”
He sat beside his husband, his own cup steaming in his hands. How Jainan could stand the sweltering temperatures and hot beverages he would never know, only that Jainan insisted that the two would be good for Kiem’s health.
“When your thirty years are up, don’t be shy about asking me about Thean fauna, okay?”
Jainan squeezed his hand.
“Seriously, though? The Emperor didn’t do anything except threaten you with exile to a planet you’ve been trying to move to anyway?”
“I know,” mused Kiem. “I think she’s getting soft in her old age.” He sipped. “Though she did mention something about keeping you on at the College while I’m seventy-two hours away on a planet with Ressid, so that was motivation. Those little buggers bite, did you know that? And they might be slow as shit on land, but they’re a headache to catch in the water. They shot through me like torpedos.”
Jainan rubbed Kiem’s shoulders.
“I wondered why you came home so wet,” he scoffed. “Fell in a fountain, my ass.”
“I have been honest in literally every other aspect of our marriage!”
Jainan quirked a brow.
“Is that so?”
Kiem had the sinking feeling that he had been caught in the act.
______________________________________________________________________________
It wouldn’t be a Prince K and Count J relationship envy checklist if Holofeed Articles didn’t mention the notoriously funny events that transpired at the dartcar races of the 132nd Interplanetary Imperial Games (penguin fiascos excluded).
While our diverse empire boasts traditional athletics such as swimming and Kanni martial arts practices, it is no secret that Prince K fancies dartcar races, even going so far in his youth as to bet and lose the whole of his substantial allowance until the palace cut him off, so it was no surprise to Iskat when the Prince appeared in the royal box. What did shock Iskaners was when Thean’s very own Count Jainan appeared in the royal box alongside little-known off-worlders such as the Count’s cousin Gairad, a distant relation of Lady Ressid’s oath-sister. Many Iskat royals and celebrities were also guests nearby but never has a member of the royal family entertained Theans so low on the political food chain.
While the events of the evening progressed as usual — and by that we mean Prince K cheering and leaping openly while his ever-stoic partner graced us with one of his rare and suppressed smiles — things became heated when, for the first time in forty years, a Thean competed in dartcar racing.
The royal couple had no issue cheering when either Thea or Iskat were represented separately, but together?
It was a house was divided.
It began innocently enough, but when the race became neck and neck between Thea and Iskat, Prince K’s policy of cheering for whoever was farther ahead unraveled at his feet. Count Jainan was even spotted performing a victorious fist pump.
Lady Ressid, who showed up later, was reportedly seen not only trying to calm her brother-in-law as he ran circles in the box mouthing what our lip-readers have only managed to decode as a series of profanities but putting down money against Prince Kiem at the betting window. She reportedly bet £5,000 on Thea while Prince Kiem bet £10,000.
It would appear our darling Kiem of Clan Feria isn’t as loyal as we thought, even with his attempts to represent us through wildlife.
“Now hold on!” Kiem interjected as Jainan read. “I know that sounds pretty terrible, but I haven’t put a toe out of line since, and it was Ressid’s idea. She said I needed to show some loyalty to Iskat if the public wasn’t going to rip me a new one if the penguin deal got out.”
“Ressid knew about the penguins?”
“Well, of course, she did. She was at rehearsals. You were working at the lab and she was the only other high-ranking Thean we had on hand. Gairad thought it was a great idea.”
“Gairad was there?!”
In the last loop of the race, the Count and the other Theans reportedly hoisted the Feria clan flag while Prince K scrambled to find a sheet of paper and drew the single curved line of the Hill Enduring, which he held proudly above his head. This reporter found the Iskat simplicity embarrassingly lacking compared to the green and white banner, but you never would have known it as Prince Kiem and even Count Jainan cheered with reckless abandon.
Maybe this only made it into our top seven because the Thean car won and we got to see our beloved Prince lamenting on his knees dramatically while our Count straightened his scarf and tried to rein in what was left of his dignity. Nevertheless, both partners congratulated the dartcar racers, bringing us to Reason #5: They Engage in Friendly Competition.
Something all healthy relationships need.
______________________________________________________________________________
Kiem brushed his teeth in front of the mirror and sneakily splashed on some aftershave while Jainan was in the shower. He appeared to be taking his sweet time as he was flicking through his wristband and Kiem smiled. He loved relaxed Jainan. It’d taken him ages to call their apartments just that — Theirs.
Tonight was the most pivotal night of Kiem’s life, barring his wedding, and he was determined not to screw it up. Jainan deserved the best, and by gods, Kiem would give it to him.
Jainan deserved that and more.
Kiem was being honest earlier. Aside from the penguins and the little white lie about the fountain to spare the tattered remnants of his dignity and the teensy bet with Ressid, he hadn’t stepped a toe out of line. He wanted to be the model partner, to make Jainan proud of him, to be more than the Emperor’s disgraced-to-redeemed grandson finally being useful for once.
He wanted to be someone Jainan never had to hang his head about.
“Darling,” Kiem called after rinsing out his toothpaste. “I was thinking, maybe instead of staying in tonight, I would take you out for—”
Kiem didn’t want to lie, but desperate times.
“—for a nice, quiet evening. Would you like that? I promise we’ll get home in time for bed.”
Jainan didn’t answer.
“Jainan?”
Kiem knocked on the shower door. He couldn’t see Jainan anymore, but he was certain he would have noticed him stepping out. When Kiem didn’t get a response, he announced himself and the shower scanned him, allowing him inside and adjusting for two people.
“Hey, I didn’t mean to barge in and ruin your privacy, but I wanted to make sure you hadn’t fall— Jainan? Jainan, what’s wrong? Did something bad happen?”
Jainan was sitting on the floor with his wristband turned off. He wasn’t moving.
“Jai! Jai, what’s wrong?” Kiem brushed Jainan’s plastered black hair out of his face, looking into his deep, amber eyes that did not appear to see.
Shit.
“Babe, do you need a healer? Shit. Don’t worry! I’ll get you dressed and I’ll fly you to hospital myself.”
“Don’t,” Jainan finally stirred. “Just… Just don’t.”
Don’t what? Kiem wanted to say, be he knew.
It’d been a year and two months exactly since they’d been married, and though Jainan suffered less from nightmares and dissociative episodes than before, that didn’t mean they didn’t sometimes happen.
You can’t expect one year of bliss to undo five years' worth of trauma.
Kiem didn’t take it personally. He didn’t. This was about Jainan, and something had set him off.
“Try the breathing thing, okay? I’ve got you.”
Breath in four, hold seven, exhale eight.
“Off!” Kiem commanded the water, and he stepped out only to get Jainan a towel. They didn’t have many as the shower was capable of drying them off, but Kiem didn’t trust so much stimulation against Jainan’s skin at a single time.
“What are five things you can see? Start there and we can work down. It’s okay. You’ll be fine.”
Kiem sounded calm, but he felt useless.
As useless as he’d been when his parent, Prince Alkie, was dying.
He hadn’t been able to help them, either.
Jainan started mumbling.
“Do your… fifteen different body washes count as one thing?”
Joking. Joking was good. Joking was something they were working on.
Kiem gripped his shoulders and led him to the sink.
“Here, splash some cold water on your face. I read that helps. We’ll try every tip I can think of until we run out. The body washes count, but only if you can name the scents. Maybe that counts as the two things you can smell? Geez, I’m so sorry. You definitely can’t count three things you can hear if all that’s hammering at your ear is the sound of my stupid—!”
He cut himself off.
Jainan. This is about Jainan. Jainan is hurting. Be a good husband. Be useful.
Be a warrior.
His mum always told him that he needed to be tougher. For once, she was right.
“Here, put on your pants and come lay on the carpet. Focus on your breathing. It’ll be okay. You’ll be back inside yourself before you know it.”
Stupid, stupid, Kiem thought. He’d planned this stupid party for Jainan and now Jainan was sick. People would ask why. Jainan would find out and be embarrassed and it was all Kiem’s fault. Why was it even when his heart was in the right place he always managed to make a fool of himself? Jainan had always been too sophisticated for him. He deserved better from his life partner.
“Here,” Kiem handed him a ceremonial quarterstaff. It was cold and textured, exactly the kind of thing Jainan could run his fingers along without becoming overstimulated. Ease him slowly, the Imperial physicians had advised.
“Keep breathing. I’ll get you coffee or… something to bring your blood sugar back up.”
Kiem didn’t know if blood sugar had shit to do with it, but Jainan was supposed to name at least one thing he could taste, and it seemed like the only useful thing that he could do for him.
Kiem returned with the coffee, the only iced beverage Jainan preferred, and sat down next to him on the carpet at the foot of their bed. Jainan, at least, was sitting up now.
Kiem never knew what to say after these episodes.
I’m sorry? Jainan would say that there was nothing to be sorry about and blame himself.
It’s okay? It wasn’t okay.
You’re fine. Jainan wasn’t fine.
Finally, Kiem settled for asking, “What can I do that would help you the most right now?”
Sometimes that was too broad for Jainan to consider and Kiem pressed, “Leave or stay?”
“Stay,” Jainan gripped his hand. “Thank you. Sorry.”
Kiem asked if it would be okay to hold him, maybe move them to the bed, and Jainan nodded.
“First of all, you’re welcome,” Kiem tucked the blanket around the both of them. “Second of all, nothing to be sorry about.”
Jainan was mumbling something about burdens.
“Burdens?” Kiem worked through the muddle. “My… burden? Jainan, you are not my burden! You’re my blessing, don’t you know that? Are you back in? Look at me. Tell me if you can hear me. Jai?”
“Here,” he said. “I apologize.”
“Absolutely not,” said Kiem. “Those healers told us a year wasn’t enough time to work through all the abuse.”
Kiem focused. Something had set Jainan off. What had he been doing?
“You were looking at your wristband. Was it… was it something in that stupid article? You don’t have to say, of course! I know sometimes it isn’t anything that triggers it, and sometimes it is and you don’t want to talk about it. I’m sorry. I’m handling this abysmally. I want to make you happy, Jainan, just tell me what to do. Anything you ask. I —”
“Kiem,” Jainan thought out loud. “Always says what he thinks.”
Kiem relaxed.
“Yeah, that’s right,” he said. “I verbalize everything, remember?”
“S’true.” Jainan’s eyes focused back in. His fingers flexed under the covers. He sat up. “I… didn’t mean to disappear,” Jainan said. That’s what the Theans called it. Disappearing. When a warrior’s mind was wounded from the sight of too much blood, sometimes the soul would leave the body. It wasn’t an adequate enough description, based on what Jainan said about it.
“You’re back now,” Kiem said, rubbing his partner’s fingers. “And that’s all that matters.”
“Kiem, can I… ask you something?”
Kiem sat up too.
“Yeah. Yeah, of course.”
Jainan flicked on his wristband, and Kiem immediately saw what had set him off.
For some bullshit reason, the writers had decided to include pictures of Jainan with Taam versus pictures of Jainan with Kiem.
The sight of that bastard's face alone was enough to turn anyone’s stomach.
It was supposed to be Reason #6: They Brag About One Another, but all he could see were side by side comparisons of Jainan’s fake smile for the cameras, the one Kiem himself had once bought as evidence of a perfect match with Taam, and Jainan’s rare, undignified and spastic chortling beside Kiem. He could tell the difference now. Jainan’s real smile showed too much teeth and his mouth was almost always open, whereas the fake one was too perfect. His nostrils didn’t even flare and it never reached his eyes.
The photos continued, and Kiem’s muscles tightened when he saw the infamous hallway video of Taam shoving Jainan into a wall. It only reminded him of the awful scene he had seen in Jainan’s head.
Next to that video was one of Kiem kneeling before a group of school children. They’d met him before and were asking about Jainan hanging in the background.
“Who’s that?” one of the small girls had asked.
Kiem replied, “That’s my partner. He’s got a Ph.D. and is incredibly important. Study hard and one day you can be smart like him.”
It was an onslaught of opposites.
Jainan keeping his head down vs. Jainan talking freely and smiling.
Kiem drunkenly stumbling through the street with a date whose name he couldn’t remember vs. Kiem excusing himself from a party early so he could go home and watch romcoms with Jainan.
Jainan standing alone at an event with Taam in the foreground.
Kiem talking to someone and laughing, but looking miserable and tired the second their back was turned.
Then, them together.
The picture of ease.
Someone calling Kiem stupid and Jainan shutting them down. Taam insulting Thea versus Kiem boasting of the advancements in Thean infrastructure. Taam slapping Jainan versus Kiem nuzzling his nose against his face. It was endless. Someone had really done their homework.
The last set was a video of Jainan standing in Taam’s shadow among all of Taam’s military friends. He was saying something insulting about Thea, trying to argue that regolith’s could be used for a project they couldn't, but when Jainan had tried to tell him, to save him from embarrassment, Taam had only silenced him.
“Stop embarrassing me,” Taam said. “What would you know about it anyway? Here, go check in my coat. Make yourself useful.”
The opposing set couldn’t have been more different. Jainan was standing beside Kiem with his arm around his waist and talking to a group of military scientists. It was clear the Prince didn’t understand anything that was being discussed but smiled and nodded in all the appropriate places looking proud.
Kiem said something funny and everyone laughed. The Prince pointed to his beloved and said, “A doctorate in deep space engineering at twenty-seven. And he got a planetary award for a new fuel injection method when he was eighteen. I don’t know how I even talk to a guy with brains like this. I’d settle for just being the good-looking one in the relationship, but his hair . It’s official. He’s way too good for me.”
“Don’t let him be humble,” said Jainan, tightening his arm around Kiem. “His Highness likes to make jokes at his own expense. He’s patroned more charities than anyone in the history of the monarchy, and he’s just established more than thirty off-world educational facilities largely thanks to the fact that Prince Kiem has never met a stranger a day in his life, isn’t that right, love? There’ll be scientists and engineers more intelligent than all twelve of us combined someday because of Kiem’s schools.”
Kiem, suddenly looking uncomfortable, took Jainan’s glass and handed it and his own off to a friend.
“Hold these for a bit, would you, please?”
He’d noticed that Jainan hadn’t removed his dripping coat and shrugged it off of his partner’s shoulders.
“I’ll check this in for you, darling.” Kiem pecked him on the cheek and winked. “Don’t solve too many of the universe’s problems without me,” he said and then started for the coat closet.
Jainan blinked and his cheeks flushed. “Um, thanks. Thank you,” he muttered before going back to his conversation, but he wasn’t as invested as before. He kept tossing glances over his shoulder to his partner, who was easily working the room and making connections for his latest charity event.
These vids tell more than we could ever write. If you or someone you know is suffering from domestic abuse, please do not hesitate to seek out immediate aid. Prince Kiem’s newest charity, The Quetzal Coalition, focuses on outreach programs designed to give jobs, shelter, and legal aid to victims of physical, mental, and emotional abuse.
The Coalition’s symbol, a Resplendent Quetzal bird, is of Thean origin and ancient civilizations recognized it as a symbol for freedom and personal liberty as the birds refuse to survive in captivity but thrive in the open air.
“While it would be ignorant of me to assume that The Coalition could solve all of the multifaceted problems plaguing survivors trapped in a cycle of domestic violence, it is the aspiration of those involved in the charity that our organization will provide lasting hope and resources to the people of Iskat who might not find it anywhere else. Our society has not expended nearly enough effort in hearing these voices which have been silenced for too long.”
-Prince Royal, Kiem Tegnar of Iskat
______________________________________________________________________________
Jainan flicked off his wristband. “Why do you talk shit about yourself when you do such amazing things?”
Shitshitshitshitshit.
Jainan wasn’t supposed to find out about the Quetzal Coalition. Kiem hadn’t wanted him to feel pressured to speak at the events, and Jainan felt pressured to do anything that he suspected would help Kiem further his causes. He had enough on his plate running the regolith operation and teaching during the free time he didn’t have at the College.
“I thought that, you know, the vids were what upset you.”
“Don’t deflect,” said Jainan. “Why? You’re always taking stabs at yourself and then you… then you do something like this.”
“Are you angry?” Kiem realized he was still deflecting. “About the Coalition? I was going to tell you, but I was afraid that it would bring up bad memories and you were so busy and I wanted it to be perfect before —”
“You’re still not answering me.”
Kiem twisted his hands in the sheets.
His throat bobbed.
“Jainan, I want to answer, I just don’t know myself.”
He looked away.
“You would have been an amazing partner for anyone. I’m lucky. So lucky. Waking up with you every day is just proof of how lucky I really am. But you got saddled with me.” He looked at his lap. “I meant what I said. If Taam couldn’t make it work with you, he couldn’t have made it work with anyone. He was a stupid fuck who sold you this dumb idea that you deserve less than perfect, and maybe that’s why…”
He steeled himself, afraid that once he pointed it out, Jainan would open his eyes and leave, would go for something better.
But if Kiem didn’t say it now, he feared he was no better than Taam. Just another person keeping Jainan in the dark.
“Maybe that’s why you think you love me so much.”
Shit.
He couldn't’ seem to stop thinking that.
This was supposed to be about Jainan’s real problems, not Kiem’s inferiority complex.
Jainan’s jaw dropped.
He looked mad.
“Think I—?” Jainan was back in his body alright. He was so back in his body he ripped off the covers and started stalking the room. “You are not stupid. You’re not. But that was the dumbest thing you’ve ever said. Did you even see all those vids I just saw? This doesn’t have shit to do with Taam. Forget him! You’ve been talking crap about yourself since the day I met you and I didn’t get it then, and I still don’t get it now. Why, Kiem? You move mountains, you help people, you saved my ass on more than one occasion, and when I read your file before we got married I saw that you’ve been with numerous people. People like you. They obviously see your value, but you don’t, so don’t you dare try to blame this on Taam. A lot of things are that asshole’s fault, but not this.”
Jainan finally sat back down in the bed.
“Seeing his face triggered me, I’m not gonna lie. But that isn’t it. You built a new charity for me and you didn’t tell me about it? Why? Is it…”
Jainan seemed to realize that he was talking in more than three sentences.
“Is it because of my illness?”
Jainan worried what the healers called “The After Effects” had caused Kiem to see him as fragile.
“What? No. No way! I just,” he inhaled. “I just wanted it to be off the ground. To be working perfectly before I showed it to you. And I know you already have so much going on I didn’t want to stress you out. You’re doing amazing. You’re already making progress the healers said they wouldn't expect to see in someone with two years worth of therapy, let alone one. But I don’t want to see you jeopardize that. I don’t want you to spread yourself too thin.”
Kiem hesitantly reached for Jainan’s hand and felt the weight of the world fall off his chest when Jainan took it.
“I talked to your mum,” Jainan shrugged. “I guess we both have secrets.”
“Jainan—”
“It’s okay. I’m not mad. I’m not even hurt. I talked to General Tegnar because…”
Jainan’s arm shook nervously and Kiem patted the back of his hand to let Jainan know that he wasn’t mad or hurt either.
If Jainan was talking to General Tegnar, then he had a reason. Kiem trusted him.
“I talked to her because I wanted to know more about Prince Alkie.”
Kiem froze.
“They meant the world to you. You loved them. Your mum said that you weren’t the same after your parent passed. That you blamed yourself somehow. Kiem,” Jainan pressed his palm against his partner’s face. “There is no way Alkie could ever have been your fault.”
Kiem gulped. He was the one shaking now.
“They were,” he stumbled. “They were trembling and dropping things more than usual. It was the beginning of them getting sick. If I’d noticed then maybe they would still be alive. If I’d only been thinking.”
“Kiem,” Jainan ran his thumbs along his cheekbones. “Prince Alkie had a neurological disorder. It was a genetic accident. It happens. And it had nothing to do with you.”
Maybe it didn’t. But it still felt like it did.
Kiem pressed Jainan’s palm closer to his face.
“I’m the one who’s supposed to be taking care of you.”
“We’re supposed to take care of each other,” Jainan deadpanned. “It’s how my therapist explained marriage is supposed to work.”
Kiem smiled. “Therapy,” he said. “I guess it could help. Me, I mean!”
Kiem cleared his throat.
“And does it? Does our,” he gestured between the two of them, “marriage work for you?”
Jainan scoffed.
“Sometimes I think you’re trying to sell me on this being slow stuff. Obviously it works. If my publicly declaring my love for you and leaving Thea and making out with you in front of the press on two separate occasions didn’t drive the point home, I don’t know what will.”
Jainan dropped his hand and settled on his knees in front of Kiem.
“Honestly? I actually have some of the same insecurities as you.”
“Insecurities?” said Kiem, like he couldn't fathom Jainan having any. They’d rebuilt so much of what Taam had destroyed.
“About if you’d married someone else?” said Jainan. “You said you thought I could have made it work with someone else. I could have. Made it work. But not like us. We’re the couple that saved the Empire, remember? I don’t have to make anything work with you. It just does.” He shrugged. “You on the other hand? You get along with everyone. You’re genuinely thrilled to speak to people and you were in so many relationships. With you, things would have just worked and it wouldn’t matter if it was with me or some random person.”
“Some random person?!” Kiem floundered. He almost fell off the bed waving his hands. “Hold the heck up here for a second! Did I see the vids? Did you see the vids, that’s the question! Did you not see me with that random girl on the Holofeed? I don’t even remember her name. Fuck, Jainan, just because I was always with people doesn’t mean I wasn’t always alone. No one — I mean this— no one ever made me feel like I do when I’m with you. I was just a disappointment. People expected me to screw up and I was never good enough for them. Being in those packed rooms?”
He shook his head hard like he was physically trying to shake off the memory.
“When I was in their arms I felt like nothing more than a group of wires in their hands with no electricity running through them. And then I just saw a picture of you and there was a spark. Then I loved you and thought you didn’t want me and I felt pain. Pain I haven’t felt since Alkie. And then when I was with you, everything was right. You did that to me, Jainan.” Kiem poked at his partner’s chest which wasn’t moving. “And when they took you, I realized that I couldn't go back to static again. I couldn’t go back to a dead world in which you and I weren’t together, or at least in which you weren’t free and happy. You deserve everything and I will spend the rest of my life thanking you for making me feel alive, for making me believe that I’m not just a disappointment.”
Kiem’s voice broke on the word. He was becoming embarrassingly upset.
“I love you, Jainan. There’s never been anyone for me but you.”
The Thean still wasn’t breathing. His mouth hung wide open and his brows nearly touched his widow’s peak hairline, but his shoulders arched back like he was expecting a blow, expecting a contradiction.
It never came.
“Kiem,” he said.
“Jainan.”
Kiem kissed him, breaking only when he felt things were going too fast.
“So… no more insecurities?”
Jainan smiled, then pulled Kiem to his chest viciously, rolling over on top of him. He kissed him so long Kiem thought he would pass out from happiness and air deprivation.
“No more insecurities.”
______________________________________________________________________________
“Kiem, do you want to tell me where in the seventh reckoning we’re going?” asked Jainan goodnaturedly. “You spent twenty minutes getting me dressed before spending an hour on yourself.”
“You’re easier to dress,” Kiem adjusted his sash for the millionth time. “You could wear a rubbish sack and still look gorgeous. It’s your athletic body.”
Jainan rolled his eyes.
“You have an athletic body too, and it’d stay that way if you’d lay off the Thean food.”
“Nonsense,” Kiem tutted. “It’s my lack of exercise. Thean food has nothing to do with it.”
“It’s mostly battered and deep-fried in oil.”
“Nonsense,” Kiem replied again. “You grew up eating it and you’re the picture of health.”
Jainan shook his head. It was no sense arguing that his mother had raised him on a diet of raw vegetables and fruits. He’d just have to insist that Kiem throw another banquet until all the Thean junk food ran out, though it’d been quite the sell explaining to the other Theans Kiem’s insistence that corn dogs were, in fact, gourmet.
Their transport pulled up in front of The Tidewater, Iskat’s nicest and more expensive lakeside resort. Half of it crossed the line into the capital’s closest national park, but the royals forgave it on account of how old and regal The Tidewater was. It was always booked for diplomatic functions. The Emperor hadn’t even been able to get it for her birthday celebration.
“After you.” Kiem bowed (something he technically wasn’t allowed to do towards someone of lower rank than him) and opened the door for his husband.
Jainan looked around. There were no reporters.
“What is this?”
“This,” Kiem offered his arm, “is a surprise.”
Kiem led him up the steps and the doors flung open.
Thean classical music played in the background and the ballroom was sparking with crystals and ice sculptures of Jainan fighting the bear with a makeshift quarterstaff.
“What—?”
“HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!”
Jainan startled as his friends and family poked out of every available crevice. Ressid kissed him on each cheek, even bowed to Kiem, and Gairad and Bel and everyone from his work came up to congratulate them. Jainan didn’t understand. Their wedding anniversary had been two months ago, and their second wedding on Thea wouldn’t hit an anniversary for another six months.
They hadn’t celebrated the first one with anything more than a media update, not that Jainan had expected more. Taam had never done more.
Kiem was… throwing him a party?
Jainan cocked his head.
“Our anniversary was two months ago.”
Kiem waved it away.
“That wasn’t our real anniversary,” he said.
“It wasn’t?”
“Of course not! Anniversaries are where married people celebrate having sex for the first time as married people, and we didn’t do that until—”
“Too much information!” Bel cut, angling her boss away and shooing him to the punch bowl.
It was all for the best.
Jainan was too stunned to talk.
Kiem had gone out of his way to plan this for him?
“Well,” said Bel, “I guess it’s too late to correct his behaviours.”
Jainan felt the corners of his mouth turning up.
“I guess so.”
Bel studied him.
“You’re just as bad as he is.” She shrugged. “But I guess that is reason number seven.”
“Seven?”
Jainan turned to see Kiem blushing at him from the punchbowl and carrying on a conversation.
“Yeah. You didn’t read the click-bait article I sent you guys?”
She showed him on her own wristband.
It was simply a photograph of the two of them from their second wedding on Thea.
They’re just so in love.
“Bel,” Jainan asked. “How did Holofeed know so much about Kiem’s little exploits?”
“Beats me,” she shrugged. “I mean, what did they know that the public didn’t already know?”
“Yeah, but you weren’t there,” said Jainan. “And the only other person besides you who’d have access to that photo would be—”
“Hello, little brother.” Ressid sashayed up to the duo. “I hope you’re enjoying your own party.”
I can’t believe it. I can’t fucking believe it, Jainan thought.
“Ressid?” he squeaked. “ You’re the one who leaked to the Holofeed?”
He just couldn’t wrap his head around it.
“Why?”
Kiem popped up and wrapped his arms around Ressid’s neck.
“Sis! Hi!” he dropped down and sidled up to his partner. “Ressid and I have been messaging constantly. She asks questions about us all the time! We’re totally buds now, right, Ress?”
Kiem had been betrayed and he didn’t even know it.
Ressid winked at Bel.
“Join me by the ice-bear?”
“Indubitably.”
The women hooked arms and walked away.
“I told you I could win her over,” puffed Kiem, proud as a peacock. “Just had to turn on the old Tegnar charm, eh? Gets ‘em every time.”
Jainan’s left eye twitched.
He cleared his throat.
“Right. Yes.”
Kiem’s face fell like he’d only realized a mistake.
“You don’t like it?”
“What? No! No, no.” Jainan soothed him and threw back a glass of champagne. “I was just thinking what a sin it was you weren’t dancing with me.”
Jainan gathered him close and took off spinning to the center of the floor before Kiem could register what was happening. Other couples joined them and Jainan realized that there wasn’t a single flash of a camera to be found.
“There are no reporters here.”
“Our privacy is important, darling,” said Kiem, his earlier confidence returning in bounds. “I wouldn’t have them ruin our special day. That’s how you end up with more click-bait.”
Damn the music. Jainan would make his own.
He spun Kiem into an incredible twirl and pulled him back, bringing him in a low dip.
“You’re the best,” he growled, kissing him deeply.
He broke away and Kiem turned a vibrant red.
“Oh, I don’t know about that. Anybody could have thrown this togeth—”
“The best,” Jainan insisted. Then softened. “You’ll see.”