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The crown prince of the kingdom of Vishanti, Karl Mordo, felt a weight lift off him as his estate came into view from the window of his SUV. As the car rolled up to the front entrance, he could hardly wait for it to come to a full stop before swinging open the door and hopping out, quickly followed by his security team. Mordo entered the front parlor of his grand home with a spring in step but halted when the members of his household came into view and the one person Mordo most desperately wanted to see was missing.
The head butler, Williams, bowed to the prince, “Welcome back, your Highness, I hope your trip went well.”
Mordo smiled at the man he had known since he was a young boy, “Yes very well, Williams, the trade agreement seems to all be settled.” Mordo wasn’t really in the mood to discuss his recent royal duties though as his eyes scanned the room to make sure he hadn’t somehow missed an occupant.
Williams understood what his prince wanted to know, “His Highness, your husband, is abed with the flu in the royal bedrooms. He regrets not being able to greet you when you arrived. He woke up this morning feeling poorly, but be assured the doctor was called and he said His Highness should be fine in a few days with plenty of rest and fluids.”
“Oh really? Why wasn’t I informed of this? It’s been hours.”
Williams smiled at the prince to reassure him, “His Highness insisted that we not tell you my lord, saying he didn’t want to trouble you and make you rush back.”
“Oh yes that does should like him, has he had any dinner?”
“No sir, we have a soup at the ready for him, but we thought we should wait for your arrival first.”
Mordo nodded, “Yes, thank you Williams. Have someone send two bowls of soup and some bread up to our rooms, I will dine up there tonight.”
“Of course my lord.”
Mordo made his way up the elegant staircase to the second floor where he and his husband, Stephen, resided. He tried not to move too urgently, he was a prince after all, and his upbringing wouldn’t let him show too much emotion outside of closed doors. Luckily when he was with Stephen privately he was able to truly express himself.
Many years ago, Mordo fully expected to be married to some upstanding noble lady from Vishanti society, doing his duty despite his own preferences. How he found himself married to a former world class brain surgeon who lost his career after a car accident is a long and complicated matter, but in the end Mordo wakes up everyday grateful that he was able to marry for love, a privilege he thought for so long would be closed off to him.
He opened the door to their private rooms as quietly as possible, walking into the sitting area and taking off his jacket and shoes, slipping on the slippers besides the door before padding into his bedroom.
On the left side of the king-sized four-poster bed situated in the middle of the room, was a distinct Stephen-shaped lump lying on his side facing the side table where his jumble of bedtime reading material and a glass of water sat. Mordo moved softly over to him, and sat down on the edge of the bed, gently placing a hand on his husband’s warm, damp forehead. Even in the low light coming in from the windows he could tell that Stephen was even paler than normal.
Before Mordo began to worry further, Stephen let out a grumble and his eyes blinked open. He turned his head from its place on his pillow and took in the man in front him. He let his eyes close contently with a smile before opening them again. “Oh yes, you’re real this time,” Stephen said in his rich baritone.
Mordo chuckled softly, “And when have I not been real, my love?”
Stephen sighed, “The last three Karls that came to me were not real unfortunately, just fever dream Karls. Just teases of a missing husband. It’s unfortunate though, one of the imposter Karls had an 8-pack.”
Mordo twisted his torso to better face his husband, placing his left hand on the other side of his Stephen’s hips, leaning closer. “Well I’m sorry, that I, your real husband, am such a disappointment to you.”
“Oh no no, you didn’t let me finish, one Karl had a bowl cut and wore socks with sandals, you in comparison are a great relief,” Stephen said with a laugh that quickly turned into a coughing fit.
Mordo’s cheerful attitude was diminished by the reminder of his husband’s state, “Come and sit up, love.” Stephen scooted back, raising himself up, while Mordo situated the pillows behind him. Mordo sat back down on the edge of the bed and held up the glass of water, helping Stephen take a drink.
After the coughing had passed and Stephen was comfortably sitting up, he relaxed back into the pillows with a sigh, “No, Karl, I think it might be me who’s the disappointing sight. Three stressful weeks of meetings and negotiations and this is what you come home to, a snivelling sweaty husband. I had plans too, the welcome home sex was going to legendary, I went shopping and everything. You weren’t supposed to come home to find me in one of your old t-shirts, let me just tell you.”
Mordo reached forward, taking his husband’s hand in his, letting his thumb gently run over the long surgical scars that covered them, “You are never a disappointing sight love, though I would always prefer to see my husband healthy. But even now, you still are the most beautiful creature my eyes have laid on. It’s actually astounding, how beautiful you look even with clammy skin and red eyes. I should have some experts on that sometime. It really is unfair to the rest of us.” He finished his speech by bringing Stephen’s hand up to his lips and placing a kiss on it.
Stephen laughed, “Stop it, you’re gonna make me nauseous with all that gushy, princely talk and I don’t think I can handle that at the moment. But no really, I think you may have to sleep in the guest room tonight, I’ll be hacking all night and keeping you up, and you must be tired after your long flight. And I would be devastated if I got you sick.”
Mordo sat up straighter, feigning shock, “Now my dear Stephen, I can understand being denied the welcome home sex, but to keep a man from his own bed and husband after three weeks of dreaming of them? That is unbelievably cruel, even for you, my love.”
Stephen smiled, “You’ll have to care for me, and you know I make a horrible patient.”
“Most doctors do.”
At that moment, there was a soft knock at the door, signalling that the soup had arrived.
Mordo stood up from the bed and before Stephen could protest, his husband leaned down reaching out to hold Stephen’s red cheeks in his hands and then placing a kiss on his forehead. He then turned and went for the door.
“Don’t worry my dear, under my supervision you’ll be feeling fine in no time, and after all, I want to see the outfit you bought for my return.”
Stephen smiled fondly and laid back further into the pillows as his husband went to retrieve their dinner.