ITL 98

[Mountie]

 

            “…when what I mean is,” Orinakin tried to explain, but Bade, wide-eyed, interrupted him with a stricken, “Your brother just made me come?!”

[Mountie]

Remember the 4 squeeze code... I want to get you private and remove all your clothes with my teeth

            “But you have to have an idea,” Bade whispered, following Orinakin down the hallway.  You might not know that it had something to do with Xio Voe, but you think so, don’t you?

            “Well,” Orinakin admitted, slipping his hand into Bade’s as they walked, “if it had something to do with Wamesh, matters have taken an unexpected turn.”  A knot of festival planners waited outside his office door, and he smiled, greeting them.  He had a lot to take care of today, but the gods, in their generosity, had decided to give him a new development in Kudorin and Xio Voe’s relationship, as well.  He decided to accept the development as a positive one.  Any step forward between Kudorin and Xio Voe meant that Xio Voe’s transition from Heir to king would be an easier one.  Which lifted the burden on him considerably.  Entering his office, planners and assistants trailing behind him, he dropped a brief kiss on Bade’s cheek.

            A light swirl of surprise.  Bade glanced at him, smiling, squeezing his hand four times.

            With a quick laugh, Orinakin returned the squeezes, separating from him only to move behind the desk, addressing everyone.

[Mountie]

 

            Bade was also surprised when a servant removed Xio Voe’s jacket.

            Beside him, Orinakin breathed a foreign curse.

            “Hello,” Selorin murmured.

            Ignoring them, Xio Voe kept talking to Dranz.

            Fan fluttering, Anosanim crowded in beside them and whispered, “Orinakin!”

            “It’s the covae insrait.”  Orinakin sounded distracted; he was staring at Xio Voe with the rest of them.  “Traditional Jacacean formal garb from the Fet Dynasty.  The Heir wears it to official state functions outside the Empire.  We should be honored that Heir Voe considers today an important enough occasion to warrant it.”

            “I’m feeling honored,” Selorin murmured.  “And a few other things.”

            Bade was feeling warm in a way that had nothing to do with the sun or the heat of the crowd.  Warm in a way that Anosanim’s fan couldn’t abate.  Xio Voe was magnificent.  Broad shoulders.  Sculpted arms.  Hard chest.  He looked masculine and powerful while still maintaining a lean, chiseled shape.  His white suede pants were snugly fitted to his firm thighs and fastened with a row of little diamond buttons centered down the curve of his ass, a taunting reminder of his shadowed cleft.  His shirt was lace, tight and frost white against his pale skin, sleeveless and exposing his long, exquisitely muscled arms, tucked neatly into his pants without so much as a bend or wrinkle of fabric.  Contrary to the dense, layered lace which Xio Voe typically wore, this lace had such a widely spaced pattern that it showed much more skin than shirt.  Over it, he wore a slim, short vest of silver razeic fur.  Stopping just below his pecs, the vest showed off Xio Voe’s long torso, and through his barely there shirt Bade could see the smooth skin on his back over firm muscle.  His abdomen was beautifully ridged and rippled.  His low-heeled boots, trimmed in razeic fur, came up to his knees and left him towering over everyone.  He wore white suede arm bands at both his wrists.

            “How,” Selorin asked slowly, “did this become traditional dress?”

            Bade wasn’t entirely surprised by Orinakin’s answer.  “Fet Kailoe wore it to the Idreis Zuritain when he declared Jacacean supremacy.”

            “Out of curiosity,” Anosanim said, fanning himself rapidly, “might he take that vest off during the course of the day?”

            “If he does,” Selorin said, “the fainting and drooling will catch your attention.”

[Mountie]

 

            “You invited me on a date, you dressed like that, you cozied up to me all afternoon, and now you’re trying to get rid of me?” Ritek demanded in disbelief.

            “I wanted to spend time with you.  I dress to please myself, Ritek.  If I dress to entice you, it’ll be in a lot less fabric than this, and not in nearly as public a setting.  I haven’t cozied up to you, I’ve had a perfectly normal afternoon with a new friend.”  What was Ritek even talking about?  How had this version of events been created?

            “Do you snuggle up to all of your friends and call them pet names and, oh, gods above,” Ritek groaned, rolling his eyes.  “Of course you do.”  Stepping back, he rubbed his jaw, cursing.  “I did it again.  I can’t believe I did it again.  I was so focused on - - I forgot who you were.  I fell into the same old pattern of everyone else.  I forgot how,” he met Anosanim’s eyes, “how unique you were.”

            What a charming performance.  But Ritek was not that stupid.  He was too savvy, too used to these games, too used to getting what he wanted and manipulating people for it.  “And what comes next?  Your heartfelt apology?  A few words on how ‘unique’ I am?  And then I, being soft-hearted, forgive you, and we go on together, and my defenses are lowered, and you win me over, and I end up impaled on your giant prick at the end of the evening?”

            Ritek’s eyes narrowed.  “You’re as witty as you are beautiful.”

            “And you’re too self-absorbed to appreciate anything about me.”  Lifting his skirts in one hand, Anosanim walked away.

            Behind him, he heard soft, angry cursing, then, “Your Highness!”

            Raising his chin, he stalked onward.  Anosanim believed in second chances.  But he wasn’t a bottomless well.

[SilverMoon28]

            “…when what I mean is,” Orinakin tried to explain, but Bade, wide-eyed, interrupted him with a stricken, “Your brother just made me come?!”

 

[Mountie]

Then it happened again in 101 and Bade had to try to explain it to Vade