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The water’s freezing when Sam slides in, liquid ice enveloping his skin in satiny folds and supple waves. A small groan escapes him as his skin adjusts to the shock, and it cuts short when he feels icy skin on his, cool breath on his neck and shoulder.
Smiling, he turns his head and lets his fingers glide through long blonde hair, dragging the pale gold strands over his palm.
“You’re supposed to be sitting in the Throne Room, looking royal,” he breathes and kisses the blonde, who returns the smile and kisses him back.
“I’d much rather be sitting here with you, looking at ease and comfortable and happy,” the blonde murmurs softly, voice dangerously low and husky, and leans his full weight into Sam’s arms. His eyes are wide, chin raised, lips bitten and swollen, giving him an almost feminine look, and one that Sam loves even more than usual.
He hums in his throat, a deep, continued note, and wraps his legs around the smaller man’s hips and waist. Slender arms buoy him effortlessly, strong hands wrapped around his shoulder blades and holding his torso there. Sam leans in, nuzzling into pale skin, enjoying the low, hoarse sounds the other makes, cerulean eyes raised to meet his, lips parted slightly, throat curved in an arc to reveal mottled white skin and bruised marks.
Sam can’t resist kissing a bruise, pale skin soft against his lips.
“Hêlêl… what happened to you?” he whispers, concern riddling his voice. The blonde shrugs, head tilted, and waves a hand.
“Nothing important,” he replies, eyes hooded lazily. Sam shakes his head, kisses a scratch under his collarbone, and twists his fingers into Hêlêl’s hair again. The blonde smiles wryly.
“Perhaps I should let the others know I won’t be there this evening,” he sighs and leans away from Sam, against the rocky wall of the pool. Sam lets him go, hands sliding from his slender frame, pale eyes wide in amusement.
“We could order cocktails and lounge here all night,” Hêlêl continues. Sam grins. It’s a very intriguing prospect, and a tempting one at that.
“I think you should stop doing Samael’s work for him. You’re not a Tempter,” he whispers. Hêlêl laughs warmly.
“No, but we get confused a fair bit,” he smiles. Sam rolls his eyes. The blonde drifts away in a leisurely backstroke, eyes closed, arms stretched out. “And I’m much prettier.”
Sam snorts.
“What was that?” Helel demands and quickly torpedoes through the water toward him, body churning through the liquid, and pins him to the wall.
“Of course you’re prettier than him, it’s your job,” Sam sighs. Satisfied, Hêlêl kicks away and dips beneath the surface. One moment Sam’s lost sight of him, the next he feels arms wrapped around his waist and an icy cheek pressed into the small of his back. He gasps.
“You know what would be beautiful, Sam?” Hêlêl asks softly. Sam shakes his head, inviting the question.
The blonde smiles warmly.
“Us.”