it feels like coming home

[notapaladin]

For the first time, Teomitl wakes up in his beloved's arms. They have a brief but very pleasant morning. Entirely plotless fluff!

-

Lips pressed to his shoulder woke him, and Teomitl blinked slowly back to consciousness in a darkened room. There was no moment of confusion regarding where he was; he could never in a thousand years mistake the simple walls surrounding him for the brilliantly painted chambers at the Duality House he shared with Mihmatini, even if he hadn’t spent the previous night...well.

(“I love you. As one man loves another.”

Silence. Horrible, terrible, world-ending silence. And he hadn’t moved, hadn’t even flinched as his heart broke in two—and then Acatl had worked his jaw silently and choked out “Really?!” and he’d nodded stiffly, knowing it had to be a rejection—

And then Acatl had stepped forward and pulled him into his arms.)

The memory sent such a flood of joy through his veins that he almost melted into the mat. He loves me. Acatl loves me. That really happened. Acatl’s arm was still wrapped firmly around his waist, pressing his bare chest to Teomitl’s naked back; he could feel each steady thump of the man’s heart and each soft breath.

Another kiss, this time to the side of his neck, made him sigh. “Mm.”

“Hmm.” Acatl’s hand slowly slid down his stomach, and he shivered in anticipation—but it stopped at the edge of his loincloth as a warm murmur met his ears. “Good morning.”

Rolling over and kissing his mouth would mean pulling away, even if only a fraction, and he wasn’t sure he was ready for that yet. His limbs were still heavy and loose with the sort of languor that only came from really good sleep, the sort he almost never got; for the first time in ages, he couldn’t even remember his dreams. (Nightmares. They had almost always been nightmares, ever since that terrible day in the courtyard when he’d stood at the head of his warriors and almost—almost—no. No, he wouldn’t think about that now.) But he wanted to touch, and so he reluctantly started the process of turning over on his other side. “Hrm...”

Acatl moved over to make room; as he turned, he had the privilege of watching a soft, radiant smile crinkle the corners of his eyes. He’d undone the white cord binding his hair last night, and now it spilled over his shoulders in rolling waves that Teomitl’s fingers itched to bury themselves in again. “Did you sleep well?”

Rather than answer in words, Teomitl kissed him. Heat took a moment to fan from the night’s banked embers, and so it was slow and lazy at first—but then Acatl coaxed his mouth open, and he hummed in wordless assent as he deepened it. This was the best way to wake up in the morning; Acatl pulled him back into his arms as he rolled on top of him, leaving him free to tangle their legs together and slide a hand up to cradle the back of his head. “Mm-hmm.”

Even when they pulled apart, Acatl was still smiling. “Mmm. That’s good.”

Their lips met again, and Teomitl wasn’t sure whether it was the way he kissed—gentle, tender, as though he was something precious and fragile—or the way Acatl’s fingers traced circles on his back, but he melted into it. Duality, I love you so much. He broke the kiss, intending to say it, but then Acatl shifted to insinuate a knee between his thighs and what came out instead was a breathless, “Oh,” at the feeling.

(They had only kissed. He would not ask Acatl to break his vows for his own selfishness, no matter how much he craved more—but if Acatl wanted to...)

Acatl made a soft, shaky noise—not quite a gasp, not quite a sigh, but somewhere in between. “Well. Good morning, then.” He slid his palm slowly up Teomitl’s spine, pulling an appreciative shiver out of him; they were close enough that even in the pre-dawn light he could see the faint flush tinting his skin. “I don’t think I want to let you go, you know.”

He rolled his hips slowly in a deliberate grind against Acatl’s; it sent a hot pulse of arousal through him, and the realization that he wasn’t the only one affected—that Acatl was half-hard against him, that the little hitch in his breath was more than just surprise—made him feel reckless. “You don’t have to.”

Now Acatl was definitely blushing. It was adorable. “Teomitl.”

He found himself grinning as he tangled his fingers further in his lover’s hair, noting the way a light scratch of nails against his scalp made him shiver and arch. That was something to explore later, possibly. “Nobody will be looking for either of us yet. We have plenty of time.” They would have to leave the mat eventually, of course—if nothing else, he was sure they’d work up a thirst—but not yet. Not when Acatl was in his arms, warm and solid and adoring.

And especially not when Acatl was kissing him again, running a hand all the way up his spine to bury it in his short hair and pull him down. Teomitl went more than willingly, his own moan reverberating in his ears when teeth caught his lower lip gently. Acatl’s voice was rough with desire when he breathed, “You,” in between kisses. “You are a menace. You’re lucky I love you.”

Oh, gods. Teomitl huffed out a breath in an attempt to regain some dignity, but he knew it was a lost cause; he could already feel his face heating up, and he knew he was smiling like a fool. “I know I am. Show me how much?” He almost wished he could take back the words; hadn’t he sworn to himself he wouldn’t pressure his love into things?

But then Acatl was lowering his mouth to his neck and rolling them both over onto their sides, hiking one leg up around Teomitl’s waist and oh, that pulled them closer —and Teomitl found himself entirely speechless, only capable of a breathy cry of pleasure as Acatl pressed hungry openmouthed kisses down his throat. His cock throbbed with sudden, fierce arousal, and o nly the faint scrape of teeth pulled words out of him. “Oh, gods, Acatl—“

“So much.” He could feel Acatl’s lips move against his skin as he spoke, and trembled all over again at the wondrous heat in his voice. “Gods, I love you so much. I never thought I would ever—ever—“ another kiss to his skin, “be allowed to have you in my arms like this.”

He sucked in a shaky breath and felt it scorch his lungs. “You can have me any way you want.”

Acatl growled. Then he was surging up to kiss him again, nails digging into his shoulderblades and drawing down his back in a long, delicious line of fire, and Teomitl’s mind went blank around the edges. There was only this—only Acatl’s mouth on his, his back arching in slow unconscious rolls to grind against his thigh, one hand grabbing a fistful of lustrous hair while the other splayed across Acatl’s back, keeping him close. It was intoxicating. He never wanted it to end. When he broke the kiss to say just that, Acatl chased his lips with his own and he nearly whined into it.

“Can I—“ Acatl cut himself off, apparently deciding that even those few words was an unforgivable span of time in which he wasn’t kissing him. “Mm. Gods, Teomitl...”

Roaming hands slid down to his hip and squeezed, and Teomitl groaned out loud. “Yes—Duality, please.” He didn’t know what he was agreeing to, and he didn’t care . Acatl could do anything to him. (If he’d asked before—if Teomitl had even thought he might ask—well. The Empire would probably have had to find a different Guardian, because he would not have gone to his marriage bed a virgin.)

For a moment, Acatl seemed about to speak. But instead he tilted his head and pressed a kiss to Teomitl’s jaw, and Teomitl felt his spine go to jelly. It was easy to go pliant in Acatl’s hands, to let himself be rolled over onto his back—the edge of the mat was there, digging into his spine, but that didn’t matter next to the fire in his veins. Once given permission, Acatl was wasting no time finding spots that made Teomitl’s toes curl; when he clawed at Acatl’s back in response to a deliciously hard love bite to his collarbone, he was rewarded with a breathlessly clear “Fuck,” that seemed to tear its way out of his lover’s throat.

Yes, Teomitl thought dizzily. More of that. He was rock-hard, and their loincloths suddenly seemed like entirely too much fabric. He wanted bare skin, wanted to touch, wanted to feel Acatl fall apart for him.

Then the conch shells blared to herald the dawn, and they both jolted at the suddenness of it all. Teomitl, snarling, channeled his frustration into a ferocious kiss. There were more teeth than he really intended but that seemed to be more than alright judging by the sound Acatl made, a sort of needy whine that went straight to his cock.

“Mmf—mm, Teomitl.” Acatl drew back, eyes heated. His mouth was very red; Teomitl could feel his heart racing as though it was in his own chest. “We—we should stop. We have to work.”

He’d fallen in love with an honest, honorable, dutiful man. A man devoted to his vocation and the care of the Fifth World, who would let nothing stop him in his pursuit of justice and balance. Sometimes, he really questioned his own taste in partners. “Now?” He let his irritation show in his voice; while some part of him was sure he was being petulant, it paled in comparison to the part that very much wanted to get back to their pleasant morning.

Acatl made a face, rolling so at least their hips weren’t slotted together. The slow untangling of their legs made Teomitl shiver. “Soon. And we both need to eat and make ourselves...presentable. You remember what we spoke about last night.”

They hadn’t done much speaking, but he grimaced as he recalled what Acatl meant. If we’re to do this successfully, we have to be as discreet as we can—at least until I am Revered Speaker. His dreams of seeing Acatl with silver on his sandals and gold in his hair would have to wait. “...Right.” But even knowing that, he couldn’t make himself pull away.

Evidently neither could Acatl, because his arms only tightened around him. “As much as I’d rather stay here until the Sixth Sun rises.”

Teomitl took a slow breath and thought of unpleasant things. Tizoc. Chalchiuhnenetl. That day—the courtyard— But some thoughts were too unpleasant, and he skittered around the edge of that memory with a bone-deep shudder as he squeezed his eyes shut. It was better to focus on the here and now. They were both busy men, but they would make time. He’d ensure it. “...Breakfast, then?”

With the utmost reluctance, Acatl sighed and sat up. Running a hand through his hair didn’t do much to make it more orderly, though the shifting spill of the waves over his back made Teomitl long for a comb to brush it for him. “Breakfast. Though I’m afraid what I have may not be to your taste—“

Well, now that couldn’t stand. It was true that Acatl’s culinary skills were no match for the palace kitchens, but that didn’t make it terrible. (If nothing else, it was a relief to eat food he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt would not be poisoned. Overspiced and overcooked, but not poisoned.) He pushed himself upright to take his lover’s hand, twining their fingers together. “You’re cooking. It’s to my taste.”

Oh, his blush was glorious. “Teomitl!”

Teomitl smiled back. They were going to have a wonderful morning.