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There are many types of kisses that Thoma shares with Ayato.
There’s the ones that are slow and tender, when the world seems to slow and eventually stop around them and there’s nothing but the soft caress of their lips against each other. The ones that take their breaths away and leave them panting in each other’s arms. These are soft and warm, leaving Thoma trembling and smiling like the lovesick fool he knows he is.
But there’s also the tiny kisses, the ones that are fleeting and quick, much like a strike of lightning. These are the kisses that happen during their busy days, when they pass each other in the hallway of the estate and Ayato leans in with a quick peck on his cheek as he hurries past, a promise of more later or a reminder of what has already occurred.
Perhaps it’s the kisses that happen late at night, full of passion and desire that seem to be so all encompassing that Thoma feels his devotion and loyalty to the man in his arms burn the brightest. The taste of sweat and them on their lips triggers a desire to devour each other, their tongues tangling in a dance of hunger. Thoma gladly loses himself in the feel, the taste, the smell, and absolutely everything there is about his love as their mouths clash together over and over again.
Kisses that happen in the courtyard, with Ayato dressed in his working best or even heavy armour, preparing to leave his side for days or weeks or who knows how long. These kisses have a feel of desperation and longing to them, with Thoma feeling every ounce of worry and protectiveness he has inside him screaming at him to follow his love and be his shield when he needs him the most. But these kisses also remind Thoma that there is always something to look forward to when Ayato returns, and that Thoma is just as much the protector of the clan and Ayato’s beloved sister as well as himself, so he must remain behind. These kisses are a promise that he will return, a declaration of love, and the ones that Thoma cherishes late at night when he must go to sleep alone in their bed.
There’s kisses that are moistened with tears, when Ayato feels the weight of the world on his shoulders and lets his mask down in Thoma’s embrace. When Thoma feels the loneliness of being away from his homeland, ridiculed and shunned for his outlander status in the nation. Worst of all is when they lament their losses, their parents, the state of the world around them in which they have no power to change. They cling to each other, trying to find comfort in a loving embrace, until the pain of the moment subsides.
Kisses that rumble with laughter, kisses that are filled with sunshine and happiness, kisses that come from sorrow and despair, kisses laced with jealousy and possessiveness. Every single kiss they have shared is filed neatly away in Thoma’s memory, making him remember that he is loved, cherished, and worthy of the attention of the stunningly beautiful man he calls his lord.
Ayato often asks Thoma which type of kiss is his favourite, often with a teasing lilt to his voice and his soft chuckle at the end.
He always answers the same way, his emerald eyes crinkling with pleasure and love.
“All of them, because every kiss we share is my favourite, right up until we share another.”