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Ryoma would never understand how Nohrians could wear such tight clothing, and so much of it, too.
Especially in the thick of the Hoshidan summer, like today. Days like today were much more suited to a light yukata, in his opinion; the thin cotton of the garment made the heat almost bearable while serving the dual purpose of keeping the sun off one’s skin. Plus, a light summer breeze in a yukata felt refreshing. Donned in socks, boots, pants, an undershirt, a collared shirt and a vest, he doubted that a Nohrian would even be aware of the breeze at all. What a hassle it must be, to dress like that every morning!
The prince shakes his head, dragging his gaze away from the window and back to the papers scattered on the table in front of him. Despite the heat, it is a nice, quiet day—the perfect kind of day to sit in the shade with the windows open and sort through the latest correspondence coming to and from his kingdom. Which he would be doing, had he not been distracted by his fellow crown prince and lover exercising his horse on the concourse that this room just happened to overlook.
Well, he supposes, thinking back to Nohrian clothing, perhaps it is only the crown prince that holds himself to such a standard of dress. He’s certain he had seen Elise in a light, flowing dress at some point, and Camilla in a pair of knee-length shorts. Leo tended to not leave the indoors on sunny days, so he isn’t entirely sure what the younger prince wore to escape the heat.
But back to the matter at hand: Xander, out in the middle of the day dressed in all those frivolous layers of clothing. The fine fool even had riding gear atop those tight trousers—knee pads and thigh guards to protect against chafing. Well, perhaps he is not so much a fool to be wearing those—safety and protection were paramount—but he is still a very fine man, if Ryoma did say so himself.
The man and his horse really are a sight to behold, if anyone is looking for longer than a glance. Being so tall, Xander’s mount had to be large to match him, and to bolster his image as a prince—someday king—riding into battle on the front lines. Ryoma was not one for fighting on a mount, so he had never paid much attention to the size or breeding of such animals, but he had to admit, Xander’s steed was one to behold. Leo and Peri’s horses were dwarfed by the black stallion that the prince so proudly rode.
Currently, the man is running the horse through a circuit of fences of varying heights combined with sharp turns at each end of the concourse, all done at a quick pace. Ryoma knows the amount of physical prowess both horse and rider need to achieve such feats with effortless grace. He should expect no less from Xander, he thought with a smirk.
While the horse is majestic in all his high jumps and sleek muscle, Ryoma finds his thoughts wandering more and more towards the rider. The heat and the workout have led to the prince being drenched in sweat. His already tight clothing clings to his muscular frame, revealing the dramatic slope of his back and bulging curves of his arms and shoulders as he rides and moves as one with his horse. Looking closer, Ryoma could see sweat beading on the man’s brow, the heat turning the delicate wave of Xander’s hair into defined curls. Ryoma knows the prince’s body well, but seeing him in this new light, without the heavy battle armor, is exhilarating.
It takes a mountain of mental strength to tear his gaze from the window. While he does love admiring the man, really, he had come here to get work done. He needs to read through at least a fraction of the documents in front of him before supper is ready.
For a few long minutes Ryoma focuses solely on the paper in front of him, reading about recovery efforts in a Hoshidan border town invaded by their all too familiar invisible enemies. As he reaches the end of the report and opens his ink well to pen a reply, he steals a glance out the window. The sound of hooves striking the ground is gone, and Xander done riding for the day, it seems.
He mourns the stunning views he is sure he missed, but mentally notes that he will observe such practice from a closer distance next time. He is glad to know that the other man is out of the sweltering heat, though. He’d have to let the other man know how much he appreciated the view later on, he thought, turning back to his inkwell and papers. He set about writing a reply, detailing further instructions to his troops for the recovery effort and noting some local leaders that the border town can turn to for necessary supplies. He folds the pages when he is done, addressing it to the head lieutenant of the squadron and sealing it with wax before moving on to the next letter.
The light knock at his door some minutes later surprises him, as does Xander’s head peeking through the parted screens.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Xander asks, offering no formal greeting. They have forgone such formalities for some time as they have become so accustomed to each other’s presence. Given the chance, there are not many moments the two spend apart these days.
Ryoma is been so fixated on a letter written in his native Hoshidan that it takes his brain a moment to switch back to the common tongue. The saying is Nohrian in origin, no less. His baffled expression gains a chuckle from Xander.
“Sorry, you just looked so concerned, everything alright?” he asks, wiping the sweat from his face and neck with a hand towel as he enters the room. He is still dressed in those—blessedly—tight clothes from his ride, Ryoma notices.
“Yes, of course,” the Hoshidan finally answers, shaking off his confusion and doing his best to keep his eyes on Xander’s face rather than the man’s thighs in those pants. “I should be the one asking you that—you were out in the heat for some time. You’re well hydrated? Not overheating?” He sets down the letter and stands to join the other prince, resting his hand on the other man’s forehead in almost feigned concern. Xander chuckles again at his suggestion.
“You underestimate me; I don’t wilt in the heat nearly as much as Leo does.”
Ryoma smiles at the other man’s confidence. He hadn’t known riding brought the other man such joy, put him at such ease. He moves closer to Xander, slipping an arm around his waist. “I don’t mean to. On the contrary—I was fascinated at your display.” Xander returns the favor, pulling him closer. With Ryoma’s feet bare and the slight heel on his boot, Xander towers over the Hoshidan prince even more than normal. He loves it.
“Why, thank you,” he answers, a sly smile sneaking on to his lips. Ryoma loves doing this, he knows; dancing around the subject with compliments and pleasantries. “I could instruct you in riding some time, teach you to jump some of the higher fences. It’s exhilarating, being atop a beast that powerful.”
“Oh, I could think of at least one other exhilarating thing you could do atop a powerful beast.”
He tries to hold back, he really does, but in the end he loses the mental battle. Xander drops his façade, burying his face into the crook of Ryoma’s neck and laughing at the absurdity of it all. “Please! That was terrible.”
A blush spreads across Ryoma’s cheeks, half embarrassed, half, well, exhilarated by his lover’s laughter. “But it’s true!” he asserts.
“It is true,” Xander affirms, lifting his head to meet Ryoma’s eyes again before leaning down for a kiss. It is not a long kiss, not one burning with need, though not short either. Long enough for Ryoma to decide he wouldn’t be going back to his papers anytime soon.
Ryoma brakes away with a contented sigh and a smile, stepping back a bit to admire the other prince once more. “I meant to say, you look ravishing in this. I could hardly concentrate with you parading yourself around down there.” He allows his hands on Xander’s back to sneak downwards. While the Nohrian may be a few inches taller than him, the height difference allows his hands to wander much lower.
Scooting closer to Ryoma again, Xander cocks his head. “Do I now? Good to know.” He feels the other’s hands rub up and down his thighs, eventually allowing Ryoma to lift one of his legs off the floor for a better angle. Xander has to appreciate his partner’s clothing, too. The thin yukata leaves little to the imagination as he snakes his hands up Ryoma’s back, around his neck and into his hair.
With a possessive look in his eyes, Ryoma gives the Nohrian’s ass a firm squeeze before angling his head up for another kiss. Through all the heated activity, Ryoma finally feels a little warm himself. A cooling breeze blows in from the window, but it does little for the two men entwined in each other. Perhaps it is time to start shedding clothing.
Xander seems to have the same idea as the two part from the kiss, “As much as I enjoy this,” he says, wrapping his leg a little tighter around Ryoma’s waist, “I originally came in here to let you know I was about to go bathe. That workout left me a little more than drenched.” Ryoma can tell, though he didn’t mind. Sweat pools at the back of Xander’s shirt and vest, where his hands had rested previously. He can only imagine how uncomfortably warm the other man’s socks, boots and riding gear make him.
The two untangle themselves, though Ryoma makes sure their fingers remain just the slightest bit intertwined. “Perhaps you would like to join me?” Xander offers.
Who was Ryoma to refuse? “It would be a good opportunity to see if those clothes look as good on the floor as they do on you.” Leaving the papers on the table for another time, Ryoma begins to lead him from the room.
“I should hope they do.”