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Asmo was more than delighted with their little predicament. Solomon, however, didn't exactly share his enthusiasm.
"Asmodeus, my palm is getting sweaty."
"But we get to hold hands!" Asmo squealed, "You love holding my hand!"
"True, but I also love to do things with my hands."
It was incredibly hard to read his spells right when the fifth born prince of Arcadia was on top of him and in his lap. It was incredibly hard to focus when he was also moving his hips against him and kissing along his neck. He was lucky that it hadn't been a more dangerous spell. But he also couldn't blame Asmo. After all, he was more than happy to be an active participant in his actions.
It wasn’t that he was unfamiliar with curses, no, in fact he was very familiar with them. Some minor ones could be useful for catching thieves, or wiggling the truth out of liars, but he never imagined that one like this would stick him to Asmodeus. Perhaps he should be wiser when choosing readings in Asmodeus’ company.
With a sigh he grabbed his book with his free hand and dragged Asmo with him to the edge of the bed. There had to be a way to undo this spell. Not that he didn’t like holding his hand, he loved holding his hand, but certain situations would call for him to use both of his hands. Not only that, but he and Asmo couldn’t always be together, and being stuck together when they needed to be in two places at once was rather inconvenient.
Asmo leaned against his shoulder, eyes glancing down to the book and back up to Solomon. Solomon’s lips moved ever so slightly as he looked over the words, trying to make sense of the text before him.
“This is nice,” Asmo chirped, interrupting his train of thought. “I like watching you read, you look very attractive when you’re focused.”
Solomon couldn’t help but roll his eyes, “Well thank you, but focus requires quiet, and I’m going to need that in order to figure out what we need to do to fix this.” If he was able to poke Asmo’s nose he would have. So instead he placed a small kiss on it.
“I don’t think we need to fix it so quickly. I don’t think it’s that big of a problem."
"You'll think differently when we have things we need to get done, I don't think it is incredibly possible for us to function like this."
"But-"
"Shhhh. We'll be holding hands while I figure out what we need to do.”
Asmo seemed slightly satisfied with that answer and remained silent as Solomon continued to scan through the book.
“Solomon! Slow down!” Asmo squeaked, stumbling along behind the king. He’d called a carriage to take them to the outskirts of the kingdom. Just as their luck would have it, it appeared that Solomon was only missing one singular ingredient needed to fix their little screw up.
All the sudden he felt himself jerk back as his fiance dug his heels into the earth, “Asmo-”
“You almost took me through a mud puddle Solomon. A mud puddle! Do you realize how hard that would have been to get out of my clothes? You’re being such a reckless man!”
“Alright, alright, I apologize,” Solomon said, “But darling, you need to keep your voice down, we don’t know what could possibly be prowling around these parts.” As he spoke he noticed Asmo’s eyes go wide, fixed on something behind him.
Great.
Perfect.
Did he dare turn around or should he just curse his luck further?
Before he even had the chance to turn around, Asmo was yanking him out of the way. His eyes just managed to catch quills slicing the air where his head had been moments ago. The two of them stumbled off into a tree where Solomon finally got a glance at the creature. It had a humanoid face, surrounded by sharp quills, it’s body was that of a large cat, and it’s tail was spiked, thrashing widley. It’s fangs were bared towards them as Solomon tried to put himself in front of Asmo.
“I can’t get to my dagger,” Asmo whispered, “Not with my dominant hand anyways.”
Because Solomon was currently glued to it.
His eyes never left the beast. He couldn’t risk it pouncing and catching them off guard.
Being stuck together wasn’t too bad.
But being skewered together wasn’t something Solomon was looking to try.
“Just stay close,” Solomon whispered, bringing Asmo closer to him, “Listen and do exactly what I say when I say it."
Asmo's nod was so slight that Solomon barely registered it. They waited, letting their hunter circle them. Swaying back and forth, looking for an opening. This was the downside of being stuck like this. Yes Asmodeus was strong, and Solomon knew he could take care of himself, but he didn’t like the idea that he was the one putting him in danger. He should never intentionally be putting him in harm’s way.
He would put himself down first, but if something happened to one of them, they were both doomed. Asmodeus would have even less of a chance of surviving if he was stringing along his corpse. The stakes were higher than they normally would be.
His eyes drifted downwards to those sharp talons, the way they curled in the soil. He just needed the right moment, an opening.
Then the beast stopped.
"Left!" Solomon didn't give Asmo time to respond, yanking him along as the beast lunged for them. They stumbled onto the ground together, narrowly avoiding being slashed open.
But the beast was quick and agile. Solomon barely had the time to raise a shield above them before it pounced again. He could feel the strain on his body with each blow that came down onto the barrier. This creature really wasn’t going to give up until it had them both between its jaws.
He’d failed his kingdom.
He’d failed Asmo.
He’d failed.
At least he could die in his love’s arms.
“Solomon-”
“Asmo, I’m so sorry that things are going this way. I-”
“That’s great darling, but look underneath us,” Asmodeus sounded oddly calm . Solomon debated if he should take his eyes off of the furious creature before them.
“ Darling ,” he could hear the exasperation in Asmo’s voice, and soon a flower was in his line of vision, “While I love the dramatics you’re putting on, isn’t this the little flower that was in your book?” If they weren’t about to be eaten by a giant beastie, Solomon could have kissed him. His absolutely wonderful Asmodeus.
Solomon’s grin was wider than the maw of the creature, “Perfect! That is exactly what I was looking for, now put a petal in my mouth.”
“Excuse me?”
Solomon hissed as the creature threw itself against the shield once more and his magic flickered. “Asmodeus please just do it .”
Asmodeus quickly placed a petal on his tongue and Solomon started to chew. Then, once he thought it was good enough, he spat it onto their hands.
“Ew Solomon!” Asmo screeched, but Solomon would make it up to him later.
Their hands were now freed, but Solomon wasn’t sure how much he would be able to do after he drained more of his powers trying to keep the beast at bay. All he knew was that he’d do anything in his power to keep Asmodeus safe, even if that meant providing a distraction long enough for him to run. All he had to do now was prepare himself to take the wall down. All he had to do was breathe and think of Asmo’s wonderful smile.
But he didn’t even get to think too much about anything aside from that.
As the beast reared, Solomon lowered the shield, and then a figure darted past him. A terrible screech echoed all around them as Asmo plunged his dagger deep into its chest and twisted. He didn’t let up, didn’t let go. Even as it toppled backwards, Asmo pressed forwards staying on top of it until it’s thrashing movements came to a halt.
Asmo’s back rose and fell as he removed his dagger. Blood splatter sprayed his front and his arms, his dagger glistened a dark crimson. His hand raised to his head, and then he hesitated, a look of disgust crossing his face.
Solomon wasn’t sure what it was, but something about the image sent a wonderful red color straight to his cheeks. Something inside of him wanted to ravish the prince. But Asmo smacked his hand away as soon as he went to reach for him.
“Oh no. Nuh uh. Who told you it was okay to spit on my hand? My husband should know better! That was absolutely revolting ,” he snapped. The tip of his dagger rested on his chest, but Solomon didn’t even flinch. Instead he brought his hands up and gently cupped Asmo’s face.
“I’m sorry my love, I did what I had to, but I promise that I can make it up to you.”
Asmo raised an eyebrow.
“How about a nice warm bath where I tend to you and spoil you?”
Asmo’s eyebrow raised a little higher.
Oh he was insatiable.
“Perhaps I could call the tailor in? I could get new clothes made and ordered for you, maybe even get your crown shined?”
Asmo let out a sigh and dropped his dagger from Solomon’s chest, “I suppose we can talk about it.”
He was forgiven.
Solomon took that moment to press a kiss to Asmo’s lips, “Good. Now, why don’t we head back and get you cleaned up before more trouble manages to find us.”
The walk back was a lot less eventful, and Solomon could feel his bones start to ache. His eyes glanced over to Asmodeus, his hand gently laying by his side. He couldn’t help himself. Testing the waters, Solomon moved closer to brush their fingers together. Asmo glanced at him and Solomon repeated the action before intertwining his fingers with Asmo’s.
“Now King Solomon,” oh Solomon loved the way he said that, “I thought you didn’t want to hold my hand anymore.”
“Of course I want to hold your hand. I do love how soft they are, and I love how your fingers look wrapped around your dagger.”
“Oh you would love something so brutish wouldn’t you?” Asmo teased, “Refined King Solomon, who is always so deep in his books, loves watching the delicate little Arcadian prince slaying a big ugly monster because of how his spit-covered hands look wrapped around a dagger.”
Solomon wrapped himself around him, not caring in the slightest if blood got on his cloak, “And if I do?”
“And what if you do?” Asmo challenged.
There was so much Solomon loved about him, and that fire in his eyes was one of the things he absolutely adored. Asmodeus was strong in more ways than one, and Solomon knew this to be true. All he could hope was that he helped Asmo flourish and grow.
“Isn’t that the question,” Solomon said leaning in, “But now all I wish is to hold your hand.”
“You’re avoiding the question.”
“But will you let me?”
Asmo met him halfway, letting his lips meet Solomon’s. His heart soared at the tiniest bit of contact with Asmo, and when they pulled apart, Solomon could feel his body begging for more. He could never get enough of Asmodeus, and he would never get enough of Asmodeus. How could he? He was beautiful and powerful all in his own right.
“So may I hold your hand?” Solomon asked again.
“You said you would attend to me in the bath as soon as we got back?” Asmo asked, leaning in close.
“That I did.”
“Then I suppose I could let you hold my hand. Perhaps I’ll even let you hold it the rest of the way back.”
“Oh my Asmodeus is too kind to me.”
And so they walked back to the palace, hand in hand. Solomon didn’t intend to let go any time soon. Asmodeus always had a grip on him. His hands held his heart so tenderly, and his very presence always had him in such a captivating grasp.
Asmodeus was wonderful, and Solomon considered himself lucky that he had the honor of holding the Arcadian prince’s hand. It was one he didn’t deserve, and yet Asmo blessed him every day.