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They hadn’t been intimate with each other just yet. It was a subject that just kind of sat in the air between Taran and Arthur for a while now. Not that it was a bad thing, but from the moment they had first met, going out and eventually putting the ring on each other, Arthur had been very hesitant about any kind of intimacy. It was one thing for them to cuddle each other, hold hands, hug each other tight, or just enjoying the other’s presence whether they had good or bad days. But going past “third base” as one of their friends had joked once, was still out of the question. Arthur was shy. Modest. Self-conscious about his figure in comparison to his husband.
Which made Taran want him all the more.
It was a frustrating thing. Especially since Arthur was blissfully unaware of how beautiful he was. His long shirts, loose fitting clothes hung from his figure in a way that made Taran want to tear it off of him. He would never tell the blonde that of course, but the feeling still remained. Arthur was very beautiful. The blonde would contrast that, saying Taran was resplendent looking than himself, complimenting his lovely red hair of which had grown out to his shoulders.
He had put off cutting it for a long while now. As did Arthur. His hair had grown down to his waist. It was gold, like sunshine. Sometimes he braided it, others he put it in a low ponytail. Taran’s favorite time was when Arthur was coming out of the shower. When he sat down to comb his hair. He’d take his time, gingerly running the comb through his golden strands, the towel clinging loosely to his damp skin. He looked lovely. Like a figure from a fairy tale.
“Taran?”
Ah. The young man had been staring. Caught in a stupor. Quickly he shook himself out of it, playing it off as if he had just came into their bedroom to grab something.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to walk in on you.”
“Ah, that’s okay. Come in.” Arthur smiled. Taran wished he hadn’t said that. Normally his husband liked absolute privacy when he dressed but he must have felt comfortable enough now, letting his hair down so to say.
“Sorry I took forever; lower back was hurting from the long painting session.”
“No worries. I don’t think I could sit for that long over those panels.” Taran smiled, taking a seat adjacent to his husband. Arthur had recently been given an artist grant for his project of over fifty panels. He had just finished stretching them over the past weekend (with some help from Taran) and was in the process of slowly arranging them on the walls in their basement, like a puzzle piece.
Taran liked that. It made for a unique composition, where some figures and shapes would begin, they’d promptly be cut off by smaller panels, rather than continuing the picture. It made him wonder what the piece had to hide from him. What it was withholding. He liked that. He liked watching Arthur work more. Especially when the red paint got onto his hands. Some of the figures in his panels were red, a bright scarlet.
Taran pictured the paint staining Arthur’s figure. He had a dream once, where he and Arthur were in this enclosed space together. It was dark, like an all-encompassing pitch black that seemed to trap them inside. Arthur lay on the ground, chest rising and falling with ease. He was sound asleep. There was a bucket close to him, full of a red liquid.
Taran reached into the bucket, dipping his hand into the red pool. He wasn’t sure what to do at first. Then he took note of Arthur’s bare form. He paused for a moment, staring at his hand then back at him. Without thinking, he reached forward, and he began to spread it over Arthur’s body. Gently rubbing it on his chest. Then his on his arms, and legs. It was sort like painting him with it. Crimson and scarlet suited him very well. Slowly, they became drowned in it. Nothing but red colored them.
Then he woke up. The violent nature of the dream should have scared Taran, but really, it intrigued him all the more. Especially about Arthur. It filled him with a sort of excitement. He couldn’t help but think of it as he observed his husband’s lithe figure, as he combed his hair. His shoulders still looked wet.
“Taran?”
“… hm?”
“You okay?”
Taran paused, realizing he had just hard core zoned out, practically undressing the blonde with his eyes. Feeling his face grow hot, he groaned falling back onto the mattress.
“Oh lord.” He sighed.
“What, what?” Arthur asked, now fully turning around, hair spilling over his shoulders.
“Nothing, it’s dumb.” Taran muttered, burying his face into the pillow.
“Come on, you can tell me. What’s the matter?” Arthur scooted closer to him, not at all mindful of the fact the one thing that was still separating them was nothing but a thin towel.
“Arthur, you’re killing me.” Taran said, voice muffled by the pillow.
“What? What are you talking about?”
“Arthur you are actually killing me right now, inside and out.” Taran wasn’t sure if he was going to laugh or cry. He wanted the blonde so bad but he wanted to respect his boundaries no matter what. He wouldn’t make a move until Arthur felt ready too.
“Killing you? How so?” Arthur innocently asked, now leaning over the other.
“Like this! That’s how!!” Taran almost yelled (all in good fun of course).
Arthur raised a brow, tilting his head somewhat. Then it hit him.
“Oh.” His cheeks blushed a lovely pink. “I… never realized.”
“Yes. Exactly.” Taran sighed, throwing the pillow off his face.
“… I’m not opposed to the idea you know.”
The other sat up at this. Taran’s red eyes met Arthur’s blue ones. “You’re not?”
“No I- I’m just shy. That’s all. And awkward.”
“I mean- I’m awkward too. If that makes you feel any better.”
“Right but you’re different.” Arthur laughed.
“Oh? How so?”
“You just are. You’re tall and handsome. I’m- small.” Arthur gestured to himself.
“You kidding? You’re gorgeous Arthur! You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen!” Taran was flabbergasted.
Arthur was resplendent. Gold of sunshine in his hair, long and lovely. Lips that shamed the red, red rose. A subtle tint of pink to his cheeks. Large inquisitive eyes that could see the good in everything. He walked in springtime wherever he went. Arthur was glorious. Why couldn’t he see that? Still, the young man was hesitant, eyes glued to his hands.
“… Well, where would we start?”
Taran raised a brow. “What do you mean?”
“I mean- like would you make the first move, or would I?” Arthur asked.
“Oh. Well, I would.”
“You?” Arthur questioned.
“Yes.”
“… How exactly?”
“Well, we’d- um- we’d uh…” Taran faltered. Crap. He hadn’t gotten that far. In fact he was too busy thinking about his own lust, as opposed to thinking about what his partner may have wanted out of the “experience.” Not a great start. “I uh, haven’t thought about it too much.”
Arthur gave him the look. Taran sighed, “Come on it was only a passing thought. Now and then.”
“Oh really? Weren’t you the one who was just saying that I’m “killing you?” Arthur air-quoted.
“Well, yeah but-“
“You could just tear it off you know. This towel. Here.” The blonde taunted, tugging the tip of it that was wrapped loosely around his chest, preserving his figure.
“Arthur.”
“You could reach over, and just, you know, tear it off me.”
“Arthur. Don’t.” Taran warned.
“There’s nothing stopping you.” The blonde grinned, ear-to-ear.
“Arthur knock it off, now.”
“You’d like to do that to me, wouldn’t you?”
“ARTHUR SHUT UP!” Taran barked, face beet red.
“Make me.” The blonde stuck out his tongue.
“Okay that’s it.” The red head wasted no time crawling over to the other and in one swift motion as the blonde had tried to crawl away, quickly pulled him over and pinned him down to the mattress. Arthur giggled, attempting to push away his husband.
“Taran wait!” He pleaded, “Truce! Truce, let’s call it a truce!”
“Oh no my dear, there is no truce.” Taran said, dark red eyes taking in his partner’s form hungrily.
“Come on I said I was sorry! Let’s be cool-“Arthur couldn’t finish his sentence because his husband’s lips had met his own. It was a sweet kiss. Gentle and loving. But wanting something more. He pulled away after a short moment, faces only inches away from each other.
“… Taran?” Arthur finally questioned, now finally feeling the weight of the situation finally sink in. It was only then Arthur noted how red Taran’s eyes actually were. A sort of mulled spice. They looked hungry. Like a lion, that finally caught its prey. And Arthur was completely at his mercy. A blush flooded his cheeks. He could only picture what Taran had in store for him.
“Uh, Taran. If I could admit something- before we- um- do the tango.”
“And what’s that?”
“Don’t hold back.”