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Lazar was convinced the Akielons were not hundred percent fixed in the head. They were acting so pretentious, like the Veretians were some fucked up perverts while also calling them prudish. At least Veretians knew how to act in a gathering and were into fucking in closed quarters.
But the Akielons. They were wrestling each other naked and acting like it was normal. There were dicks flopping around, asses oiled up with cheeks parting, chests, thighs, arms on display and faces acting like no one was getting hard during the groping matches.
Lazar was sure the Akielons were just turned on by all of this and someone a long time ago wanted his fantasies to be more vivid and made his mission to have everyone, even kings naked. It was a justifiable mission, he was not complaining.
He wanted to have an orgy with a lot of Akielons but there was a special someone he wanted to pushed up to the wall and kiss senseless. So, he might had a little crush on Pallas. On the most attractive Akielon. Period.
Out of the soldiers he had the fortune to look at, Pallas was the cutest and the sexiest. Laurent was an unattainable beauty, Jord had an adorable facial hair, but Pallas was like he stepped out of a wet dream. Lazar's, most definitely.
The whole okton party was fun as fuck as Laurent made it clear for the Akielon commander he was not some fresh princeling not made for the fight but he was a soon to be king. Then they celebrated it in a good old fashioned, drunken way, giving the gathering a lighter mood.
Which made the troops mix, too. They had drinks together, tried to communicate and brag, but with kind-heartedness this time, no one looking for fight, but not clearly opposed to it. Thin ice they walked on, but they were all walking with their heads held high.
Lazar felt like this was the appropriate moment to look for Pallas, the solid two meters soldier boy of a sex god and chat with him about positions he preferred in bed. Lazar, close to death thanks to his unwisely chosen loyalty, far from acquitted of treason, felt like he would do anything just to have that boy to himself. If Pallas wanted to tight him to a tree, be it. He was having a generous day with himself.
Pallas was at the garden, watching two surprisingly talented Veretians dance to others' harsh singing. The boy was giggling along the way, hiding his face behind his cup. He looked ready for a night of fucking, which Lazar was going to propose.
He was aware they did not speak the same language but he was confident, he could make himself clear with hand gestures. Also, Pallas was already tipsy he may have had problems with his own language too. Lazar also had his fair share of wine.
“Hello, beautiful,” Lazar greeted him, and that, Pallas could decipher as he turned to his direction. Pallas blushed slightly and with slurred words he said something charming to him. For long seconds they were just gazing at each other, measuring. Then Pallas, that sweet seducer, bit his bottom lip, while his eyes lingered on Lazar. It was time for actions.
Lazar reached out and slowly let his fingers smooth over the boy's arm, who shivered, hopefully not just from the scratchy of his touch. Then he took the boy’s hand. Pallas let himself be led away, the cup from his hand falling down to the stone tile, unceremoniously but with noise. Lazar smirked. Maybe his charm was truly working. If Pallas was half as mesmerized with him as Lazar was with the Akielon, he was already winning.
Lazar’s destination was the open garden at the bottom of the wall, where no one was going to examine them closely. When he let the boy’s hand go, it was Pallas who pushed him to the stone wall and kissed him wildly, grabbing his neck and cornering him, which left him without breath.
It was almost desperate, not the sweet kissing he would have anticipated from such shy and modest boy. It was messy and full of bites and when they parted Pallas looked dazed and happy. He chuckled to himself, stepping back without control over his body.
Pallas lost his balance and with face whitening staggered backwards. Lazar, blindly reached out, grabbed the boy's arm and fall face first to the ground as Pallas hit the grass with his ass. The boy started to chuckle once again. Lazar was not that impressed. He rolled on his back and used the opportunity of being in a comfortable position to pull the boy on top of himself. Pallas was eager, placing his knees at Lazar’s sides, careful not to crush him. He leaned down and this time kissed him without rushing just pushing his soft lips to Lazar’s, sweet and unhurried.
Lazar had a greater plan in mind when he approached the boy, but making out under the stars was something he could enjoy without complaining. Breath mixing, locks of hair getting entangled between fingers, Pallas careful not to suffocate him with his body, but shielding him form the wind; he was making the most of the last days of peace.
After some time Pallas lifted his head and started to explain something to him in rough voice and Lazar had no idea what, so he just decided to kiss it away. Pallas was persistent and slowly pronounced his own name.
“Yes, I know,” he said impatiently and tried to bring their lips close again. Pallas pushed himself up in a sitting position, supporting himself with two hands on Lazar's chest, making Lazar gasp as he settled on his abdomen. Being two meters of sexy man meat had its weight. Pallas apologetically slid down to Lazar’s thigs. Fortunately, the ground did not occure to him as an alternative seat.
Pallas said something slowly, one syllable after the other and Lazar tried to look clever, sometimes humming, like he was proceeding what the boy was explaining. In reality he was just gazing at the beautiful young man on top of him.
It was maybe the exotic of his features too, that had Lazar lose his mind, but he looked like one of the gods the Akielons adored. Skin bronze, radiating heat like it was the sun itself, body of a god never defeated before, curls like waves of a dark seas, soft and silky, face carved with the greatest care, eyes glistening with playfulness like dark diamonds. And those fucking cherry red lips. Lazar started to understand where this fascination of others came, that infected his fellow soldiers. He always enjoyed kissing and this night started to look like his lucky one.
The boy, upon realizing his words were ignored, faking annoyance, slapped his arm. The sentence he directed him was something Lazar could comprehend.
“I do listen,” he insisted, smiling at him. How could a mortal focus on anything when a miracle was straddling him. The next second he was most definitely called an idiot. That word, he heard before from other Akielons too.
“Hey!” He sat up gripping Pallas by the waist. He wanted to punish him with a bruising kiss, but for this sudden achievement in language lessons, Pallas’ eyes lit up and smiled enthusiastically.
Pallas grabbed his hand putting it over his own heart and with his big warm hand touched Lazar over his many layers of clothing caressing his chest. Lazar started to see the advantage of the chiton, he could feel the boy’s heated skin under his touch and it made his mind stop for a split second.
Pallas started to pronounce a short but heartfelt word, carefully and quietly. Lazar looked at him with mock disapproval.
“We are not there yet,” he said as seriously as his smile-sore muscles let him. Pallas screwed up his nose. Lazar started to understand the term say it. Pallas said it with such charming demands he tried. Pallas chuckled. Lazar looked at him hurt, so Pallas stole a small kiss, lips only touching for half a second. Then Lazar learned the term again. Now, that could be something that was going to be useful in activities he planned with this lovely boy.
So Lazar tried again. And again. And once more. At that point, Pallas was shaking his head violently, after each time saying it himself too, to get Lazar pronounce his word correctly. Lazar failed, but it was worth hearing Pallas' laugh for it. The boy got giddy with chuckling losing balance even though they were sitting. He did drink enough to be able to move on from his failure of the okton.
Lazar took revenge by grabbing his chiton and pulling him in for a kiss, rough lips pressed together softly, almost losing the touch of it and then falling over, because Pallas did lost his sense of balance. For ever, it seemed.
The boy then just looked at him through dark lashes like Lazar deserved to be looked at by someone as amazing as the young champion. Pallas said something softly which Lazar didn't understand but pressed a soft kiss into the hand that was caressing his face. Pallas kissed him again.
The sky was clear above them as Pallas rolled to his back then hugged Lazar like they were on an enormous bed not on grass and the Akielon started to explain the constellations to him, or it seemed as he was explaining those to him. Lazar, pulling the boy closer to himself, felt like he could even learn the constellations if he really wanted to. And a snuggling Pallas was a good motivation.