Work Text:
The cold never bothered me, but it feels good to not wake up in an empty bed for once. My hand automatically fumbles in the space next to me before my eye even opens, expecting cold sheets but instead feeling soft, downy strands of his hair. I open my eye and there is my beautiful boy, his pale body illuminated by the rays of sunlight that had managed to pierce through the cracks of the curtains. I bite my lip. I’ve never had much cause to use the word ethereal , but that is how he looks in front of me. They say you shouldn’t touch fine art, but a part of me wants to ravish and ruin him like I did the night before, a part of me that stems from a forbidden part of my heart. That has always been my issue. I see perfection, and I soil it with my touch. But I’m a selfish man, and my hand hovers a hair’s breadth away from his cheek. Still, he looks so peaceful in his slumber that I don’t dare. Instead, I resign myself to simply gazing upon his sleeping form, an extraordinary luxury in itself. He looks so unbothered and innocent—childlike, even. I wonder, with a brilliant mind like his, what kind of thoughts occupy him in his sleep? His eyebrows scrunch together and his nose twitches just for a moment, before his face relaxes back into an angelic manner. Interesting, how he can make such simple movements look so captivating.
What are you thinking about right now, my prince?
Then, suddenly his eyes fly open, brilliant orbs of turquoise framed by delicate lashes that always threaten to steal my breath away, and right now is no exception.
“Good morning.” My voice comes out in an awed kind of hush. I’ve never had much faith in the archons, but I’d worship him if he’d let me.
“Oh,” he breathes out, his lips pink and slightly parted in surprise. “Oh .” His eyes flit downwards to my naked form before glancing down at his. His bottom lip trembles, as if he’s remembering how those same lips had taken in my fingers so well just the night before. Adorable.
I can’t help but tease. “My eyes are up here, love.” This only flusters him more, of course. He raises one hand to his face halfheartedly, as if thinking about covering up the blush that’s begun to dust his cheeks, but deciding against it. Smart boy.
“I— ahem ,” he clears his throat shakily. “My apologies. Did you sleep well?”
How cute, trying to pretend like I’m just a houseguest when I’m naked in his bed. “Well enough,” I yawn. “Though, I should be asking you that question. After all, it’s only good manners, since I took the dominant role last night.”
To my disappointment, there’s not much rise from him out of that. “How thoughtful of you,” he says cooly. “I slept just fine last night, if not a little cold.”
Was I seeing things, or was he smirking at me? Well, two can play at this game. “Do forgive me,” I drawl. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to fix that.” I let it end at that, letting the implications float in the air between us.
I’m half expecting him to flash that sexy insufferable smirk and take my share of the blankets. It turns out I’m only half right. His lips curve into a half grin before he speaks again.
“Actually, it’s quite a simple solution. Sharing body heat with that of another person is beneficial to preserving the body heat of both parties involved.” He blinks up at me innocently. “Of course, this requires for them to be in close proximity to each other.”
Clever boy . He’s won, and he knows that. I give in and pull him into me, hyper conscious of my hand on the small of his back. He relaxes into me quicker than I’d think. His body feels cold against mine. So you weren’t faking it, huh, “You poor thing,” I hum, petting his head. “I thought you would be accustomed to the cold by now. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were deliberately trying to feel me up.”
“Just so you know, I’m only doing this because I’m cold and you’re the closest heat source,” he says indignantly. His voice pleasantly vibrates into my chest. I pray he can’t detect the quickening beat of my heart.
It’s absolutely fascinating, just how wanting he is. He comes off as mild and passive to others, ever the reserved and knowledgeable Chief Alchemist of the Knights of Favonius. But if you really looked at him, you’d see that everything he did was with an insatiable kind of hunger. His profound search for the so-called “truth” of this world, and how it drives him to study everything around him, no matter how small or insignificant it may seem. The way his endless curiosity has him picking up and mastering talent after talent, whether it be cooking, painting, or storytelling. He may deny it at first, claim that it’s impossible to learn everything there is to know, but in reality he wants to absorb all of the world into that pretty little body of his. Even now, just when I’ve thought he’s been lulled to sleep by my body heat, he boldly throws his leg around my waist and discreetly brushes his groin against my thigh. I relish in feeling him harden against me.
I chuckle at his appetite before indulging him, pushing his back onto the mattress to move on top of him, earning a delighted gasp from him. My body covers all of his, removing the ethereal sunlight glow and casting him in shadow. I realize with a bittersweet taste on my tongue that I’m about to taint the pure white bloom that is Albedo with my sinful intentions.
Ah, well. It’s nothing I haven’t done before.
Yes, I’m a selfish man, but so is he. He just wants and wants and wants so strongly, and who am I to deny him?