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He was beautiful. His eyes as deep as the sea, his long hair falling as waves hitting on a ship’s hull, the sound leaving his mouth as soothing as the ocean’s cry, his skin as pale as the moon’s guiding light. Emmanellain de Fortemps, the youngest lord of the house and a force not to be played with, as Sicard had found out during their short travels together around the world. The man was as loud as he was brave, as annoying as he was courageous, and as tiresome as he was enjoyable. A force of nature indeed, able to make your marbles twist in anger and, a minute later, make you wish you could kneel at his feet and worship him whole.
Or perhaps that was all in his eyes. His mates and their companions for the trip around the world found the young lord lacking in all abilities whatsoever, and he was annoying to make it all better. Ay… a true tempest in the sea. Not for many to appreciate. Only the eyes of a good sailor could see the beauty in the midst of the storm.
Never, not once in his miserably enjoyable life did Sicard ever believe he would find himself in a position such as this. Not that he had not tried, but his attempts had been with false at best, and evil at worst, most of them seeking monetary gain or status. Not this time. No, this time somehow with his charming manners and his loudness he had found his way into the bed of a royal without having to charm them or poison them with drinks. No… this was oddly different, and uncomfortable to some degree.
Although… the discomfort did seem to leave his mind whenever his eyes traced the line of the man’s shoulder next to him, falling down his arm and under the blankets. Ishgard was cold after all. Not as much as Garlemald, but almost. Perfect for a rest underneath warm blankets and a comfy bed. He had never laid upon such a comfortable mattress before either. It was almost insulting, in a way, but he did not find within himself the rage he might once find when he looked around him and saw good people taking control of such a tight society such as Ishgard. No, they deserved it.
And somehow he too deserved it.
The body next to him stirred and Sicard realized that perhaps he had lost himself in thoughts for a while too long. He was not one to easily drift away, not unless the lights of the stars above were there to guide him, but that night above him laid only a ceiling, and next to him a warm companion that seemed in need of comfort.
Odd as it was, he did move closer to the body next to his, unsure how to proceed. Wrapping his arms around Emmanellain seemed… too forward, but standing still and doing nothing seemed too cold. After a moment of consideration, he raised his arm instead and slid it over the elezen’s shoulder, naked now and shining under the light coming from outside his window, before traveling up towards his neck and head, fingers gently and carefully sliding through the hair and brushing it. It was intimate, for sure, but there was space enough between them not to make Sicard feel like a creep.
He was, after all, the only one awake.
Instead of soothing, as he had intended to be, the movement had the opposite effect, making Emmanellain stir and yawn loudly as he turned, seemingly more asleep than awake as his eyes fluttered open, covered by the fog of dreams. He seemed younger still in that moment, as if the damned elezen’s did not take long enough already to acquire the size and facial features of adults, taking long enough to make Sicard feel a bit uncomfortable the first time he thought about kissing him (despite their ages not being that different after all). No, under the dim light and governed by sleep, Emmanellain looked almost like a child, innocent and sweet.
And it did stir something uncomfortable and warm in Sicard’s heart.
“… Pirate…” was what Emmanellain mastered to mutter in his state, eyes fluttering close again as a yawn passed through his mouth. Sicard held back a laugh and gave him a nod instead.
“Ay ay” he whispered, and was unable to stop his heart from skipping when Emmanellain’s lips curled into a smile.
“Good…” he whispered, before he wiggled get closer and pressed his face against Sicard’s collarbones, breathing him in as the hyur froze in place, unsure on what to do and unwilling to move further. He would have requested Emmanellain to move away (after all, were they this close?) were not for the immediate snoring that sounded after he had fixed his position against the pirate. Sicard couldn’t help but chuckle in a mix of surprise, amusement and nervousness, before he gently placed his hand on the elezen’s waist and allowed him to remain pressed up against his chest.
One thing Sicard knew, was that Emmanellain was quiet at night, and as much as he loved to hear the man’s annoying voice bickering with him, his silence did seem to show the truth of his character, as did Sicard’s.
They were different in many ways, but alike in many others, such as finding comfort against each other.
And Sicard, well… he would learn how to deal with it in due time.