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“I be a pirate, I don’t dance,” Joktan lied through his teeth, collapsing on the couch, running his hand through his hair. His hair kept getting in his face which at least provided some coverage from his stare at The Elvenking. In all honesty, once his sister had heard of his little “crush” on the Emperor, she had immediately taught him how to ballroom dance. He wasn’t a kid anymore so it wasn’t a “crush”. It was a fascination. He had sworn the man had put some kind of spell on him. His sister had also tried to teach him some manners, which had been too far. She had always been a matchmaker.
“Guardian Gladiolus has demanded this,” The Elvenking, or Montague, waved his hand, “I would have not wanted this. I usually don’t dance either. People can’t keep up. But since you are my ally, I would rather not make a fool of you at the ball.” The man re-crossed his arms to glare at him.
“We don’t be havin’ too, she is easy to avoid,” Joktan excused.
Montague huffed, “You must have left your mind at home. You are a downright fool to think that.”
There was a thought that rang like a bell in the back of Joktans mind, “But I’d rather this be my home.” He pushed back invisible hair again. He wasn’t lying. When he had originally been told of the Eternal Emperor in the mountains, he had assumed the man lived in a grand castle like his sister. But it was quite the opposite. Montague lived in a decent sized cottage, only two floors and the upper floor overlooked the lower one. There weren't any walls and all open air. It made it easy to heat the whole house with the fireplace he assumed. It was cozy and warm. Sure the swamp back home was also cozy and warm but it was also humid as sweat stuck to your skin. This was a different kind of cozy, not at all because of its resident.
Two fingers snapped in front of his face, jolting him from his thoughts. Montague looked down at him sternly, “Focus. We have a week. That is not that long.”
“Not fer you and your life span,” Joktan groaned.
“You are not helping. If you would like to make a fool of yourself at the ball so be it, but I will break our alliance,” Montague turned around.
It would have been easy to grab the man by the waist and to pull him backwards onto the couch, but Joktan resisted the urge. He threw his head back, groaning once more, “Fine, ye win.”
Montague turned back around with a sigh of relief, “Finally. I know you are not a night owl such as myself and I’d rather not have you caught up in a snowstorm on your way back down the mountain so I’ll keep this quick.”
Joktan held out his hand flat, Montagues satin glove sliding on top, feather light like he was hesitant himself. But probably not at all. He had felt the mans hand once, it was ice cold just like the rest of him, maybe Montague was afraid of freezing him. Lucky for Montague, that was impossible.
Montague led them to the center of his living room, the wide cyan rug covering almost the entire ground. Joktan felt something leave when Montague went to pull out a record to play, “I promise to go easy on you. But I cannot guarantee I am an easy partner.”
If Montague was anything like his dance style, then he’d be easy to unravel. Joktan could already tell Montague would make an easy lover. He was effortlessly loveable, “Oh i’m sure. Do tell, how many have you danced with?”
Joktan forced himself to look Montague in the eyes rather than the way his hips moved and the way the fabric seemed to float around him. It was the first time he had seen Montague without his parka. He was much thinner than he expected. The body type of figure skater, lean but some hints of muscle.
Joktan drew in a breath as quiet as he could as Montague slotted his body against his, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and holding the other in the air, “Not many, this should be an honor.”
Like two puzzle pieces, Joktans hand fell onto Montagues waist almost perfectly. He intertwined his fingers with Montague. He didn’t miss the way Montague watched their hands and didn’t miss the way the man gulped, taking a moment to look at his shoes before looking back up. That's when the music slowly started. Before he could stop himself he muttered out, “With you it is always an honor.”
Joktan swore he felt the man jump, but clear as day felt Montague squeeze his hand, “Do you at least know how to box step?”
Joktan took the queue to start spinning them, “Aye, The Ocean Queen made me once she learned I was up for votes.”
There was a moment Montague had tried to catch the lead, but only to be forced back as the follower and Joktan held way. Joktan could tell it caught him off guard by the way Montague almost stepped on his foot. After giving his foot a quick glance, he looked back up, “Speaking of business, do you ever take the mask off? You seemed to be the only Codfather i’ve met who keeps it on as often as you do.”
Joktan felt a smirk crawl onto his face, “What ye want me to take it off? A little forward of ye.”
Montagues jaw dropped as his face lit up even more than his usually rosy cheeks. Joktan also didn’t miss the way his ears flickered. Offended, the man sputtered out, “That is far from what I meant. You just do,” He paused as they spun around again, letting the music fill the empty air, “You do look better without it on.”
Joktan hummed victorious, “Whatever you say, your highness.” Joktan spun them towards the couch, quickly flicking the centuries old mask off. He noticed the slight frown on Montagues face as he had let go of his hip and the way he melted back into his hand when he put it back.
Joktan wasn’t sure they had stayed like that, the music had melted into the background long ago. Montague was all he could take in as they spun and unspun each other. Montague smelled of Pine trees and rosemary, with the tiniest hint of lavender. Joktan wondered if his bedsheets smelled the same. They didn’t exchange words. Joktan didn’t care how long time ticked by or the way his legs were starting to get exhausted. He could stay here and watch the view for centuries.
It was like a magnet was pulling Montague into him. Each spin Montague seemed to lean in a bit closer to him. Their silent competition had long been over as he started to slow down with each centimeter Montagues head got closer. Music started to fade in as he came down from cloud nine. To give him a sense of permission, Jotkan pulled him in a bit closer as Montagues head finally hit his shoulder. The spiral from earlier had turned into them rocking side to side as Joktan felt Montagues breath slow against his gills. It did make it slightly harder to breathe but not that he’d ever ruin this moment with that note.
Out of the corner of his eye, Joktan looked to Montague. The elf was staring up at him with half lidded eyes, looking like he was about to fall asleep right then and there. Joktan pretended to not notice as he looked straight ahead, drawing in a deep breath and closing his eyes. The song was one he recognized, one of those slow waltz’s that used to play. Absent-mindedly, he started to hum along, drinking in the weight on him. He almost jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand delicately land on his chest, almost shaking. He let himself relax into Montague, he wasn't even sure if they were even rocking anymore. The hand snaked up to join the other wrapped around his neck as he slid his other hand around Montagues waist.
Both of them be damned because there was so much that needed to be said here and now but neither of them wanted to crack. Joktan knew he was a new emperor, he had halfway stumbled into leadership. He could be easily falling into the jaws of a shark and he wouldn't have even looked back. He had heard stories of how vicious the man in his arms could be. But never once had he seen this anger or torment he was supposed to bring.
That's when a thumb rubbing over his cheek pulled his eyes open and out of his stupor, “You’re eyebrows furrowed.”
Joktan let himself look over, Montague had the same expression painted on his face with a hint of concern lacing his voice. Joktan let himself lean into Montagues hand, “Tell me honestly, what is happening here? What are we?”
Mirroring his own actions, Montagues eyes closed as he sighed deeply, “I’m not sure. I’ve never been through this before.”
Joktans hand wrapped around the smaller one on his face, bringing the palm closer, placing a gentle kiss to the center of it, “Would you like to find out?”
Peaking out of one eye, he whispered, “I wouldn’t mind.”
That was all the permission he needed. Gently, like holding porcelain, Joktan placed his hands on either side of Montagues face, drawing him in. He watched as Montague all but collapsed, eyelashes fluttering closed as his hands clung to Joktans forearms.
Now this is the view he could stay in forever. If he could freeze time at any moment in time, it would be now. Joktan would have thought that his lips wouldn’t have been this soft, more cracked from the cold, but it felt like fresh snow on the ground. Maybe more like how his bed felt after a long day. He couldn’t decide. But he knew this was heaven or at least the closest he’d get to it.
It seemed like centuries. Minutes into hours. Time was non-existent in this breath. Unfortunately, one of them didn’t have an extra breathing apparatus. Montague broke away, dazed, taking in another breath. But Joktan felt like a magnet, lightly pressing their lips back together. It was like getting washed out in a riptide but Joktan wanted to drown in this one.
Montague broke the next one, holding Joktan’s face back, almost gasping for air. Joktan yearned for a painting of this, Montague the deemed, indifferent, ever powerful emperor, breathless in his arms. But another part of him wanted no else to ever see this view either. This was his and his alone.
Joktan let a proud smirk rise onto his face, “You got an answer yet?”
It took a moment for him to re-catch his breath, “Do you mind spending the night?” Montague looked at him helpless, and Joktan knew in that moment there was no turning back.
“Wow, moving that quickly? I didn’t take you for that type,” Joktan snickered.
“No, I just don’t want you dying on your way out. Your sister would kill me,” Montague rolled his eyes.
“Oh of course, there's no alternative meaning?” Joktan teased.
That's when Montague placed a finger to his smile, “Shhhhh,” he hushed before leaning in to kiss him again.