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Silas was drowsily tracing patterns against Panto's skin, head nestled against his shoulder, when he suddenly remembered the trinket he'd picked up earlier that day.
“Oh!” he said, sitting up so that the sheet pooled around their waists. Panto made a noise of discontent as he pulled away from his embrace. “I found something that made me think of you at the market today, my love.”
It had actually been quite difficult to enter the market square on his own. Though it had been many months since the day of King Francis's return, and all the horrible events that had happened there, it still made him sick to even look at the usually cheerful plot of land. The handful of times duty had brought him back to it, he'd been lucky enough to have Panto beside him – both as someone who shared those awful memories, and as a warm, physical reminder that his beloved was not gone. Today, there'd been an event he'd had to attend while Panto was pulled away by a different duty. The only thing that made it endurable was focusing on looking for small gifts for his loved ones. Thinking of them- their likes and dislikes, the happiness they would get from receiving the gift– was just enough to distract him from his own feelings.
Panto pushed himself into an upright position, piling pillows behind them so they could recline more easily. He trailed a hand down Silas's back, his expression abashed.
“Your eye for gifts never ceases to amaze me,” Panto said. “Meanwhile, I search for months and still never find something that satisfies me.”
Silas retrieved the small, fabric-wrapped bundle from his bedside table before turning back to Panto. “Luckily,” he said, “you always seem to know the right words to say or the perfect touch to show me I'm appreciated. That makes up for many sweaters of dubious quality.”
Panto groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes. “No, darling, you promised not to mention that again.”
“Only in front of other people,” Silas said with a sly smile. He looked down at the packet in his hands, fiddling with a corner of the blue satin. “This one is perhaps a little different than usual. If it's not to your taste, please know I won't be offended,” he said earnestly.
“I'm quite resigned to being the worst gift-giver,” Panto said as he lowered his arm to rest a reassuring hand on Silas's knee. His thumb swept back and forth over the exposed skin and Silas shivered. “You don't have to try to make me feel better.”
Silas simply smiled, taking in the sight of his beautiful lover as he reclined in their shared bed. The normally smooth waves of his hair were mussed from their earlier lovemaking, pink strands falling across his forehead. The low lamp light was just enough to throw the dips and planes of his muscles into relief, shadows pooling in his lap where the sheets and blankets now tangled tantalizingly. His lips were curved up in a small, knowing smile as he swept Silas with his own appreciative look.
Leaning over, Silas brushed away some of the tussled strands of hair, tucking them behind one ear. His fingers lingered against the side of Panto's face, feeling the prickle of stubble against the pads of his fingertips. Gently, he touched the lobe of Panto's ear, where there was a small indent from a piercing that Panto rarely filled anymore.
“I know that you've refrained from much ornamentation because it's unsafe in battle,” he explained. “But now that we have achieved our longed-after peace, I was struck with the urge to indulge in a small embellishment.”
Unwrapping the folds of cloth, he exposed a pair of golden earrings. Delicate strands of burnished gold wove themselves into a sheaf of wheat that would curve along the edge of each ear.
“Oh,” Panto breathed out. He touched the edge of one earring. “The Trost emblem. And you found them in the market here?”
“In the stronghold of the Dengdamors, you mean?” Silas said with a laugh. “Yes. I was struck by that, too. I believe our hard work is paying off.”
Panto plucked an earring from his palm, his fingers working smoothly in the remembered motions of putting the earring in place. He repeated the movement with the other, then tilted his head with a teasing smile. Gold glinted alluringly against the pinks and creams of his complexion. “How do they look?”
“Beautiful,” Silas said promptly, hardly even seeing his gift.
“Flatterer,” Panto said with huff of laughter, even as he narrowed the distance between them, lips hovering just out of reach. “Now who has the right words?”
“Then you'll just have to show me your perfect touch,” Silas said, before he closed the gap with a kiss.