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“Did you find any trace of your companion?”
The deep voice comes as Aster crosses back through the palace gate. He doesn’t startle. Aster is much too old and too poised to do something like startle . But he does pull his shoulders tight as he searches for the man.
“Who says I wasn’t just out for a walk?,” Aster asks, rolling his shoulders to relieve the tension. If the move offers an appearance of casual boredom, he won’t complain.
He spots Dante leaning against the wall a few yards away, apparently content to remain half in shadow. So cool, so mysterious. The laugh is a close thing but he manages to swallow it back. Aster thinks to leave him there with whatever judgments he holds but the breeze stirs, bringing with it the Sunlord’s scent.
There’s something warm about it, more than the heat of a living body, as if the desert itself had been distilled and dripped into his veins. The comet casts a lovely red hue across the visible part of Dante’s face, reminding him that for all his annoyance the Sunlord is beautiful. Aster could always use a meal and a distraction. Not necessarily in that order.
He can feel the weight of the man’s gaze as he drifts closer.
“You claim responsibility for him,” Dante says, answering Aster’s flippant comment with arrogant sincerity. “There’s no way you’d sit idly waiting for his return.”
Aster hums thoughtfully. It’s unnerving to be quite so transparent, especially to someone who doesn’t know him. He doubts anyone but Morvay would make such a claim.
“Is this where you scold me for running off on my own?”
Dante snorts, his expression hidden by the dark.
“It’s only natural you would search for him. The so-called Grand Sorceror does not truly know what it’s like to be responsible for others.”
“Master is trying his best!” Aster replies testily.
He is! Master had meant well, telling him to wait. It was the same advice Aster would have given anyone else. It’s only, Eiden doesn’t know that dumbass incubus like he does. And he hadn’t been there when Huey’s voice had run out over the sands. He hadn’t heard the bright note of hope in Morvay’s voice, either.
He grits his teeth against the memory. Everything will be fine. The idiot will return and Aster will punish him for taking off like that. No leaving the castle for a month, at least.
“Trying is not succeeding,” Dante retorts haughtily and Aster considers biting him here and now. It could serve on two fronts, really. Slake a hunger and offer a little revenge on this desert-dweller for insulting his master. There’d be another hunger left but he could resist temptation, unlike that du—
Aster abandons that train of thought. Dwelling won’t help anything right now. Instead, he moves close enough that he can make out Dante’s mismatched eyes. They’re watching him closely. Not out of wariness but interest .
“Were you waiting for me?” Aster asks, taking another step forward, and wonders how close the man will allow him.
“I was watching the gate,” he replies, tone thick with disinterest. The lie is childishly transparent but Aster decides he finds it charming. A symptom of his troubled emotions, surely. That dumbass incubus was going to pay for this alright.
Aster leans on the wall, close enough to Dante that he can feel the heat of his skin. The Sunlord doesn’t react, doesn’t flinch away. He lets himself relax.
“You’re talking like you know me,” he says, looking up at the sky. It’s a beautiful night, despite everything that’s happened.
“We’re alike,” Dante replies as if this is obvious.
“How so?’ Aster demands, caught between offense and amusement.
“You know responsibility, not just for your companion but for your country. You hold power over it and work to see it thrive.”
The laughter escapes this time, loud in the quiet of the empty courtyard. Dante’s scowl is fierce but it doesn’t cow him.
“What power do you think I have?”
“You hold the entire economy of the Light Territory in the palm of your hand. It thrives at your mercy. That’s power . Even your king couldn’t stand against you.” Dante pauses, his eyes holding Aster’s. There’s respect lurking in his gaze and something else, too. Something hot and sharp.
Well , Aster thinks, his heartbeat picking up. No one has ever accused him of being more powerful than a king. It’s true enough. There are countless contracts and trade routes that only exist because of his careful orchestration. The king and every noble in the court owe him plenty of money. Enough that calling in the debts could destroy them and the economy too.
He isn’t sure he likes that the Sunlord could see all of that so easily. No one has ever looked at Aster and truly seen him. Not Eiden, despite his efforts, and certainly not Huey in his indifference.
It’s time to change the subject so Aster smiles, slow and sensual. Dante’s eyes focus on his mouth.
“Are you attracted to power?” Aster wonders, pressing a fingertip to the pulse on the underside of Dante’s wrist. The beat of his blood is strong and his skin is warm.
“I’m attracted to competence,” Dante responds, his eyes locked onto the sky, long elegant neck exposed.
Aster pulls in a deep breath through his nose, the scent of Dante’s blood stronger now that he’s next to him. This is potentially a terrible idea but he’s alone and worried in a way that he pretends doesn’t bother him. The thought annoys him so he turns the emotion outward.
“I’ve heard the Sunlord doesn’t let anyone but Master warm his bed, no matter who offers.”
“Who in Solaria could I take to my bed? I have no equals.”
Aster scoffs, a list of insults lining up behind his teeth before Dante’s meaning lands.
“Who knew Lord Jackass would have such high ideals?” Aster says instead, needing to get under this man’s skin as thoroughly as Dante had gotten under his own.
The Sunlord is scowling still, eyes fixed on the sky. There’s a blush to his cheeks that’s visible even in this low light and in the end, that’s what decides it.
Aster turns and lets his hands wander to Dante’s waist. He runs his thumb in a delicate circle around the exposed hip bone and leans in until their chests are touching. Maybe it won’t be so bad to let this man know him. Just for a little while.
“Have you ever been fed on by a vampire, Sunlord Dante?” he asks sweetly, waiting for the inevitable flinch or frown of disgust. Instead, Dante swallows, and Aster can feel the beginning of an erection pressing into his stomach.
“I’ve heard that it’s pleasurable to humans.”
Aster huffs a quiet laugh and presses in closer, raising Dante’s wrist to his lips. He lets his teeth drag lightly across the skin and smiles when the Sunlord shivers in anticipation.
“My rooms are nearby,” Dante says, eyes half-lidded. “My guards know to alert me if anyone comes through the gate.”
It’s a kindness that he isn’t expecting and Aster pauses, wondering again if this is a good idea. There’s something dangerous here, he thinks. Then Dante’s hand comes down to cup his cheek, hesitant, his thumb tracing Aster’s bottom lip.
What’s life without a little danger, Aster decides and pulls Dante towards the staircase. He follows his lead after that, quiet as they move down the hall. The Sunlord has a certain respectability to maintain, after all. The thought makes him smile. He wants nothing more than to wreck that dignity, to make this proud man beg.
The Sunlord strides into his rooms, back rigid, and Aster smiles at his nerves. It’s endearing, God of Klein help him. He reaches out and snags Dante’s belt, using it to maneuver him to the bed. Dante lets out a huff of annoyed surprise when Aster shoves him onto the mattress. It’s just enough to make him sit.
“I’m stronger than I look,” Aster says, a challenge, and maneuvers himself to stand between the man’s legs.
“Show me,” Dante replies with a raised eyebrow and that delicious flush on his cheeks. Aster smiles. There’s nothing he’d like more.