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Alair, holder of Byzant, brother of dragonriders, survivor of Plague and Thread, sat in his bedchamber and seriously considered barricading the door and never coming out.
“How did I ever let Aerlia talk me into this?” he moaned. “It’s embarrassing. It’s ridiculous. It’s going to be humiliating when no one bids on me. Shards!” He flopped over backward onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. “Maybe they won’t notice if I don’t show up.”
“Don’t bet on it.”
Alair yelped and jumped in surprise, glaring at Aerlia, who, as usual, had found her way past locked doors to drive him to distraction.
“How do you always get in here, even when I’ve locked the doors?” he grumbled.
Aerlia only chuckled. “Get moving, brother; you need to get ready for the auction.”
Alair groaned again. “Why did I ever agree to this? Not only am I going to be humiliated, that incredibly irritating steward is never going to let me live this down.”
Aerlia frowned at him even as she chivvied him into his Gather clothes. “The two of you are worse than children. I expect to see you poking each other with sticks next! What do you have against him? He’s a perfectly nice man, and he does his job well, making your life easier.”
“Easier?” Alair snorted in disbelief. “That man’s sole desire in life is to make me miserable. He’s forever trying to embarrass me, mumbling snide comments. He’s trying to make me crazy!”
Aerlia’s raised brows seemed to indicate that she thought he was already there, but she didn’t comment. She didn’t think Alair was ready to hear that everyone in the hold, from the kitchen drudges to their mother, was placing bets on when he and Mik would get together. Even their brother Er’ll, the third of the triplets, and his lover R’ven had put down marks.
“Well, if he makes your work more difficult,” she pointed out reasonably, “you should get rid of him. The steward’s job is to ease the holder’s burden.”
“No, that wouldn’t be fair,” Alair was quick to turn down the idea. “He’s doing his job well; he just grates on my nerves. I can’t dismiss the man for that.”
Aerlia shook her head, biting back a smile, and herded Alair out of the room and down to the waiting dragon who would take them to the Gather. Alair stiffened when he saw Mik waiting, clearly also intending to attend the Gather.
~*~*~
Mikaelian rolled his eyes toward the skies when he saw Alair’s reaction to his presence. Jays, was the man ever going to get a clue as to why he behaved as he did? Considering the answer was probably ‘no’ to that question, Mik resolved himself to being considerably poorer once the auction was done - but maybe a good deal more satisfied in other matters.
Now if only the holder didn’t attract too much of a crowd looking as edible as he did, dressed as he was...
“Greetings, Aerlia,” Mik smiled, offering a sweeping bow to the tall young woman, then studying her brother critically. “You know, Alair, you’ll bring a lot more marks if you lose the sour expression and lighten up a bit. I thought the idea behind this auction was to make money, not to scare the buyers off.”
Alair bared his teeth in a poor imitation of a smile. “Since there are no buyers here, and I’m not yet at the moment where I have to humiliate myself, I see no need to ‘lighten up’ as you so eloquently put it.” He turned his back on the annoying steward, striding toward the dragon so abruptly he nearly ran down both Aerlia and the dragonrider.
The two near-victims exchanged amused glances, both entertained by how easily the usually unflappable holder was driven to distraction when the steward was around. The rapidly increasing volume of Alair and Mikaelian’s voices drew Aerlia’s attention back to the men, and she shook her head in bemusement.
“Men!” she exclaimed in tones of disgust. “Both of you be quiet and get on the dragon before he leaves without you. Try to behave and not embarrass the hold tonight.”
Alair did as ordered, but not without a final snide remark to Mik. “Just how is it that you avoided having to participate in this idiocy? Didn’t think anyone would part with their hard-earned marks for you?”
The shorter man shrugged at the question, then climbed up onto the dragon’s neck, politely declining the rider’s offered hand up. “Didn’t want to bankrupt the crowd who would be bidding on me is all; have to leave some marks for the rest of you chumps to earn.”
Mik had to smirk to himself at what was to come. Between the fact that Alair was going to have to sit between him and the dragonrider on the way to Southern and what was going to happen at the auction, he was probably going to have one angry holder on his hands later. But then anger could be diverted to other things - he hoped.
Alair groaned to himself when he realized that Mik was pressed against his back, the heat of the younger man’s body seeping into him. He couldn’t take this; he had to move. But it was too late. The dragon was aloft, and all he could feel was Mik. He counted seconds desperately, wondering when the dragon would go between, freeing him of the sensation. He could swear that he could feel the other man’s breath on the back of his neck.
When they arrived at Southern Hold, Alair slid off the dragon so quickly he nearly injured himself. Without saying a word to steward or sister and barely a mumbled thanks to the dragonrider, he bolted into the crowd, heading straight for a wine vendor.
Mik watched the older man hurry away, then glanced up at the others, his face a mask of innocence. “Was it something I said?”
~*~*~
“Next up is Holder Alair of Byzant Hold. Just take a look at this handsome man, good gentles, and get your marks ready! Do I hear a bid of one mark?”
Mik watched the bidding with interest, waiting until the offers for Alair seemed to be slowing a bit before putting in his first bid. If the look on the holder’s face was any indication, he wasn’t enjoying this much, and the small smile he’d managed vanished when he realized who was now bidding on him.
Ignoring the older man’s icy glare, the steward continued upping the amount bid, continually increasing the marks offered by a hunch-backed woman—or at least Mik thought it was a woman.
Alair glared at the steward, imagining how wonderful it would be to close his hands around his throat and choke the irritating man. Then he noticed that the only ones still bidding on him were Mik and the incredibly ugly old woman. He shuddered to imagine having to spend time with her. No matter how annoying Mik was, he was better than that. He forced himself to smile at the steward, knowing it looked more like a grimace. His eyes promised retribution if Mik didn’t get him out of this.
A look of sheer horror appeared on his face when Mikaelian mischievously waited a bit after one of the old woman’s bids, not upping it until the very last second. The glare Alair turned on him should have killed him on the spot. His outrage made his flitters rouse, wings spreading until he could calm them again. His temper was not improved by the sight of Aerlia doubled over, tears of laughter pouring down her face. At least Er’ll was too distracted by trying to keep everyone away from R’ven to stand laughing at him as well.
When the old woman finally dropped out of the bidding with a disgruntled rumble, Alair didn’t know whether to be grateful to the steward or not. Now he was going to have to spend the rest of the day with the man. He groaned softly. He needed a drink!
“Going once, going twice, sold to Steward Mikaelian of Byzant Hold for the sum of 64 marks!” The auctioneer winked at the crowd as he waited for Alair to leave the stage. “Looks as if the hired help is going to have the run of the hold for at least a little while here!”
Mik groaned to himself at that one. As if Alair wasn’t angry enough at this whole situation, that comment was just going to make sweetening the holder up even more difficult. After paying out his marks - something that cleaned his belt pouch out completely, Mik sauntered back toward the stage where he could see Alair waiting, fuming. Grinning at his obviously displeased purchase, the steward came to a stop, looking at the older man expectantly. “Looks like you get to do what I say today.”
Alair glared at his steward, demanding, “Where did you get that many marks?”
The shorter man shrugged negligently at that. “Didn’t embezzle ‘em from the hold if that’s what you’re worried about.
“If you had marks like that, why spend them on me?” Alair wanted to know, baffled by the steward’s actions.
“They’re my marks; I can spend them any way I want, right?” Mik asked right back.
Frustrated beyond belief by this infuriating man, Alair practically snarled, “So you’re not content with hounding me all day, now you have to try to drive me crazy all the time?”
Mikaelian was still grinning as he leaned in to whisper conspiratorially in Alair’s ear. “If I do that, do you think they’ll give me the hold?”
“I don’t think you’ll be rewarded for doing your holder in!” Alair snapped, glaring.
“True...” the younger man sighed, “and I much prefer you the way you are right now, though a smile every now and again would be nice.”
Still annoyed, the holder started to yell at the irritating younger man, then paused, distracted by that last comment. “Smile?” he demanded in disbelief. “What does smiling have to do with anything? I don’t have time to smile!”
Mik just snorted at that. “When does smiling take any time? Last I noticed it can be done during just about any other activity!”
“How could you possibly notice anything? You’re so busy acting the fool, you never have time for anything else,” Alair bit out.
“I’ve got time to notice that you’re driving yourself to an early grave.”
“I am not driving myself to anything! I’m trying to rebuild a hold.”
“And is there any sense in rebuilding something if you cannot even stop and see what it is you’re doing?”
“I’m rebuilding for my people and my family. Should I go frolic in the fields and let them go hungry and unprotected?” the increasingly annoyed holder demanded sarcastically.
Mik was nearly growling at this point as well. “I didn’t say that; I simply mentioned that the hold would not go under if you did choose to frolic some.” He sighed and rubbed his temples. “I need a drink.”
Alair chuckled nastily at that. “Sure you have enough marks left to buy one?”
The steward gave a small frown, then grinned. “Since this is our ‘date,’ I think you should buy.”
Faintly amused by Mik’s predicament, Alair raised an eyebrow. “Some date you are,” he chuckled.
“Hey, you can’t have everything, right?” Mik posed a bit at that so that his vest swung open over his bare chest.
Alair started to respond, then stopped in mid-word, his eyes fixed on the bare chest.
Upon noticing the holder’s gaze, Mik swallowed a smile. “So, Holder, going to buy me a drink?”
Alair managed to tear his gaze away from Mik’s luscious, tempting chest and blinked dazedly at the younger man. “Wha?”
“Drink? You? Me? Understand?” he asked, leaning in closer, purposely crowding Alair a bit.
“Ah, yes, right, drink. What are we waiting for?” He swallowed hard, then strode off toward the nearest drink vendor, trying to ignore the gorgeous man behind him.
Determined not to let the older man lose him, Mik walked along right on Alair’s heels. “So, any ideas for our next ‘date’? I think I’d like lounging on a settee with you feeding me peeled grapes. Work for you?”
Alair stopped abruptly, making Mik run into him, and glared over his shoulder. “In your dreams, Steward! There’s not going to be a next date.”
The shorter man didn’t back off, leaving his face right up in Alair’s. “That’s what you think. Rules say I get another date, and you always play by the rules, don’t you?”
Alair glared into those beautiful eyes at close range and, frustrated, nearly wailed, “Why are you forcing me to do this?”
“Because.” Mik turned serious for a moment. “I want to see you smile, and it looks like ordering you to do it is the only way it will happen.”
“Tell me what I have to smile about!”
“The fact that it’s a beautiful day? The fact that that old hag didn’t buy you?”
Alair glanced over at the hag who had bid on him as she had on nearly every man up for sale at the auction and shuddered. “Okay, you’re better than that. But in case you haven’t noticed, I lost a lot of my family recently. So I trust you’ll forgive me if I don’t warble in the trees!”
Mik studied the older man seriously, then looked over at the vintner by way of a hint. “I’m not asking you to warble from the trees. All I want is a smile; I like the way it makes you look. And make it a real one, not that phony thing you were showing off on the stage. Or I might have to tickle one out of you.” The last was added with a sly grin.
Alair gaped at his clearly deranged steward, sidestepping out of range in case he decided to fulfill that absurd threat. “Perhaps you should stick to water, rather than wine,” he suggested, eyeing Mik in disbelief, baring his teeth in a poor imitation of a smile. “It sounds like you’ve already had more than sufficient wine.”
“Mmmm... No.” Mik answered after a moment’s thought on the matter. “To both of those comments. That was not a real smile, and I haven’t had near enough wine, especially not with you buying.” With that, he ordered them both glasses of decent vintage red, taking his glass and looking at the older man expectantly, waiting for him to pay. “C’mon, Alair. Be a polite date, and pay the man.”
“Just out of curiosity, what do you intend to do if I don’t pay for it? Maybe I don’t want any wine,” Alair pointed out, smirking at the steward. “I hardly think this gentleman is going to give you the wine out of the kindness of his heart.”
“Then I’ll just drink both of them and bill it to the hold - or loan him you to work off the debt, whichever he prefers.” At that, Mik took a drink, clearly savoring the taste of the wine. “And I can order you to drink that if you want. I know it’s a vintage you like, so don’t go telling me any different.”
Alair snarled, slamming down the marks for the drinks and grabbing his, draining it one long gulp. “Fine,” he snapped. “Now what, master?” He glared at Mik, arms crossed defensively across his chest, foot tapping angrily.
Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath to avoid blowing up at the holder, Mik leaned back against the stall, resting his elbows on the chest high ledge, watching Alair’s eyes drop to his chest again when the motion spread his vest open once more. Well, at least that shows he isn’t dead, the blond thought to himself, the silent humor bringing a grin to his face once again.
“You know what I want,” he stated blandly, his gaze lingering on Alair’s long russet hair, wondering what it would feel like sliding through his fingers or over his skin... “A smile, just one tiny one then we can go home.”
Alair started swearing inventively, his eyes still darting to the bare chest from time to time. “I don’t happen to feel like smiling, you sharding idiot!” He glared in frustration, finally managing to focus on the idiotic grin Mik was once again wearing. “I’m hungry. I’m going to get something to eat. If you want anything, just ... Oh, why even bother! You’ll say whatever you sharding well want anyhow!” He stalked off toward a meatroll vendor, people scattering out of his way after a single glance at his expression.
“Ya know,” Mik said conversationally to the vintner, “this would be a whole lot easier if he would cooperate a little.” Shrugging at the man’s sympathetic expression, the steward took off after ‘his’ prize, catching up with Alair at the booth. “Why thank you,” he smiled, plucking the meatroll out of the older man’s hand and taking a bite. “How did you know that these were my favorites?”
Alair completely lost his temper, snapping at and actually biting Mik’s hand before he realized what he’d done and let go. “You... I...” He opened and closed his mouth several times, incoherent with rage. He spun back toward the stall, slamming down more money and pointing wordlessly at another meatroll. The vendor, wisely, didn’t ask questions, simply handing him what he wanted. Meatroll in hand, Alair stalked toward a seat, ignoring the steward who he presumed was still following him.
“Shaffit!” Mik cursed quietly, shaking his hand, then inspecting it, wincing at the neat half moons Alair’s teeth had marked on his skin. “Let ‘em out of the hold before they’re fully trained and look what happens,” he quipped to the crafter before turning and following the older man, dropping into the chair across from him and examining his hand once again.
“You know, if I can’t write tomorrow, it’s going to be all your fault,” he commented, popping the last of the meatroll into his mouth and grinning around it, knowing that would infuriate the holder more. Sooner or later, something he did was going to cause Alair to snap - or Mik hoped so anyway.
“How much longer are you going to insist on staying here?” Alair demanded angrily, subduing a flash of remorse and concern at the sight of Mik’s hand. “I’ve had just about enough of this ‘fun’,” he sneered. “Or perhaps you’d like me to spend my marks on something else for you, maybe a few sisal shirts? I’m sure that would be a much better use of the hold’s funds than buying supplies.”
“I told you,” Mik sighed, speaking slowly and clearly as one might do to a dim-glow or young child, “give me a real smile, and we can leave. Faranth forbid that I try to get you to enjoy yourself or do something frivolous. The hold is all and everything, I am well aware of that.”
“And I told you that I don’t feel like smiling right now!” Alair responded, equally slowly and carefully. “What exactly do you not understand in that? I am not happy; I am not having a good time; I do not want to smile; I do want to go home.”
“Fine.” Mik shook his head, wondering if he might as well give up. This was pointless. “I understand. You want to go, go. Be miserable for the rest of your life, what skin is it off my nose?”
“What do you care, you infuriating, pompous, aggravating...” Alair’s rant stopped suddenly when a breeze flicked Mik’s vest open again. Suddenly, without thinking, he reached out, placing a hand on that warm skin, then kissed the steward. Instantly realizing what he’d done, Alair stared at Mik for only an instant before taking to his heels, bolting toward the dragons, wanting only to escape back to Byzant.
Mikaelian sat there for a moment, a stunned expression in his face. Then slowly a smile blossomed on the young steward’s face, and he pushed himself to his feet to stroll after the holder.
~*~*~
“Anyone home?” Mik called as he knocked on the door to Alair’s office. The other man hadn’t been in his rooms or anywhere in the hold, so the steward figured he had to be holed up in here, pretending to work.
Alair’s head shot up, and he glared at the door. “Go away!” he snarled, unable to believe that Mik was still following him. He refused to think about kissing him, about how good he had tasted, how good he’d felt in his arms. Without realizing, he’d gotten to his feet, backing away from the door. He stared unblinkingly as the door began to swing open.
“Never figured you for the kiss and run type, ‘Lair,” Mik answered, pushing the door the rest of the way open and leaning against the frame. The holder looked on the edge of panic, and the shorter man remained where he was, not wanting to crowd him any further at the moment. “And leaving me to find my own ride back too... I’m beginning to sense a trend here.”
Alair remained where he was only because he was backed up against the wall and there was nowhere else to go. “I knew you could get a ride. If nothing else, Er would be happy to give you one.” He completely ignored the comment about the kiss, trying to pretend it had never happened. Once again, however, he couldn’t prevent his eyes from running appreciatively over the bare chest of his steward.
He took a deep breath. “Why’d you buy me for that ridiculous price, Mik? Why’d you even bid at all? What do you want from me?” he asked, confused blue-green eyes searching the younger man’s, really wanting an answer this time.
“Your brother was too busy trying to hide R’ven so that people didn’t grope him. I had to beg one from someone else.” As he spoke, Mik took a step inside the room, then eased the door half shut behind him.
“As for why I bought you...” Here he smiled, turning his head to keep the holder’s eyes aligned with his. “Let’s see... To save you from that hag? To drive you nuts?” Each question was punctuated by another step forward. “Maybe just because I wanted to—wanted you.” This was said as he stopped in front of Alair and reached up to touch the soft lips that had been so briefly pressed against his at the hold.
“Wanted me?” Alair squeaked through an emotion-constricted throat, almost whimpering as speaking made his lips brush against Mik’s fingers. His eyes widened, and he looked dumbfounded. “How could someone like you want me?” he asked, unaware of the wistful tone of his question. One hand rose to grip Mik’s wrist, but rather than pulling it away from his face, he seemed to forget his purpose, simply holding Mik’s arm, thumb lightly stroking the inside of the other man’s wrist.
“Please, Mik,” he husked, eyes probing Mik’s pleadingly, “no more games. What do you want from me?” he repeated, confusion and a tiny gleam of hope visible in his gaze.
“How could I not want you?” the younger man asked, feeling the flash of sensation as Alair’s thumb ghosted over his skin. The holder was too beautiful for words, and since the day they had met, Mik had been consumed by the desire to bring a smile to the other man’s haunted eyes. The need for Alair himself had followed hard on the heels of this first wish, and Mik had spent many a frustrating night wondering if the other man would ever notice him.
And now it seemed he had.
“What I want from you, ‘Lair,” he rasped, taking a step closer, pressing Alair between his body and the wall, “is this.” Leaning up, Mik caught the holder’s lips in a kiss. One that lasted much longer then the one Alair had given him at the Gather.
Alair moaned into Mik’s mouth, lips parting eagerly, and his arms went around Mik’s waist. Mik’s tongue explored his mouth, making him quiver with arousal. When the younger man finally ended the kiss and leaned back a tiny fraction to allow them to breathe, Alair’s eyes fluttered open, pure green with passion.
“You really do want me,” he whispered in shock.
“That,” Mik chuckled, sliding his arms tighter around Alair’s waist, pulling them impossibly closer together, “is the biggest understatement I’ve heard all Turn. I’ve wanted you from just about the minute I arrived here.” As he spoke, he placed tiny nipping kisses over the expanse of Alair’s full lower lip. “The question I have is do you want me?”
Alair stared Mik, eyes wide and mouth hanging slightly open. “You want me,” he repeated in astonishment. He couldn’t seem to get past that idea.
The younger man shook his head at that, his blue eyes sparkling with humor and barely banked desire. Finally, after months of wanting it, he had Alair in his arms - and hopefully in his bed soon too. “You know, ‘Lair,” he commented, taking advantage of the other man’s open mouth to steal another kiss, “it’s a good thing you aren’t as slow on the uptake in matters dealing with your hold as you are with this. I want you. Now are you going to answer my question, or do I have to do something drastic like carry you out of here to convince you?”
That typically mischievous comment brought Alair out of his stupor, and the expression of dull apathy that had been so familiar in his eyes vanished, replaced by matching humor. “You can carry me later,” he grinned just before he took Mik’s mouth in a ravenous kiss, seemingly trying to devour the other man.
His hands slid down from Mik’s waist to cup his buttocks, long fingers kneading the firm muscles eagerly. He pulled Mik more tightly against him, aligning their groins, and moved his hips slightly to rub them together. When he had the steward nicely distracted, he took a couple of unexpected steps forward, knocking the younger man off balance so that he ended up on his back on Alair’s desk with the holder on top of him.
Alair finally ended the kiss, though he continued to lick and nibble the passion-swollen lips. “Slow?” he murmured, chuckling softly.
It took a moment for Mik’s brain to start working again, but once it did, he chuckled, arching upward into Alair’s weight. His arms were wrapped tightly around the holder’s waist on the off chance that Alair would try to change his mind about this. “Well,” the steward murmured, flicking out his tongue to lick at the older man’s lips, “maybe just a little - until you figure things out anyway.”
Alair grinned, settling himself more comfortably on top of Mik. “Is this why you’ve been poking at me since the day you got here? If so, did it never occur to just to ask? It would have been a lot easier on both of us, you know.” He leaned in to claim Mik’s mouth in another deep, seeking kiss before the younger man could answer.
The steward relaxed, opening his mouth to allow Alair’s probing tongue entrance, then following it back into the hot haven of the holder’s mouth, taking his time and savoring the complexities of texture and taste to be found there. “Why didn’t I ask?” he asked once they’d broken apart again, both breathing heavily. “If I had, you would have fired me or flamed me, both options I really didn’t like, so I went with being annoying. At least that made you notice me.”
Alair snickered. “I certainly noticed you all right. I wanted to strangle you most days. And don’t be so sure of what my reaction would have been. It’s not every day that someone like you notices someone like me. At the very least I’d have been flattered. At best, we’d have made it to my bed months ago.” He nipped at Mik’s chin. “Talk about wasted time.”
The holder shifted, wedging himself between the steward’s legs. “Don’t think I’d have let you get away if I’d ever realized that you were interested. Wouldn’t want you to come to your senses and get away before I got a chance at you.”
Mik shook his head, even as he slid his hands lower so that he was cupping Alair’s ass with both palms. “You think I’d walk away from this? From this?” Here, he stretched up and tasted the older man’s lips. “Crazy holder. And speaking of wasted time, why do we still have our clothes on? It’s my date, and I want us both naked and sweaty.”
“Far be it for me to disobey the rules,” Alair laughed, straightening up despite wanting to just continue lying there on top of Mik forever. The other man might be smaller, but he made a wonderful mattress. Alair decided to explore that idea further later that night.
“This would go faster, you know,” he pointed out, eyes fixed on the still prone steward as he almost tore his own clothes off, “if you were to take your clothes off too.”
The younger man lay there, laughing, almost unbelieving, as Alair stripped, his eyes greedily devouring ever inch of the holder’s skin as it appeared. “Well, maybe I want to have something left to wear when we get out of here,” he snickered, scooting himself off the desk and leisurely beginning to pull his vest off.
“And I just want to enjoy the view, what’s wrong with that?”
Alair groaned throatily. “Nothing...later. Right now I just want you, want to know that this isn’t some kind of dream where I’m going to wake up and find out that it was all in my imagination. I’ve wanted you for so long,” he admitted softly, “even if I wouldn’t admit it.”
“Too stubborn for your own good, Holder,” Mik smirked, dragging off the last of his clothes, then pouncing on the older man, backing him against the wall and rubbing against him sinuously. “I’m gonna do whatever it takes to prove to you that this is real, whatever it takes, starting here.” With that, he attacked Alair’s neck, nibbling at the straining tendons, tasting the sweaty hollows and exploring the soft flesh beneath his Adam’s apple.
Alair bit back a moan, tossing his head back against the wall with a thud that neither man noticed. “I dunno,” he gasped, “it’s pretty hard to believe. I think you’ll just have to keep convincing me, over and over, till it sinks in.” His hands were busily exploring Mik’s back, coming to rest on the steward’s ass so he could pull Mik closer.
The younger man laughed at that, the sound changing to a groan as Alair’s hands closed around his ass, yanking him forward so that their cocks rubbed against each other tantalizingly. “Sounds like something I won’t mind in the least,” Mik breathed against the reddened mark he had made on Alair’s neck. “Think I know just the way to do it too...”
He slid lower at that, feeling the scrabbling of the holder’s hands on his back as he descended, lapping at each bit of skin he passed. After a leisurely stop at Alair’s nipples that had the older man writhing against the wall by the time he was finished, Mik dropped to his knees, feasting his gaze on the hardened shaft that jutted out at him. “For me?” he asked, looking up into Alair’s flushed face. “’Lair, it’s just what I wanted.”
Alair gasped, staring down at Mik’s mouth so close to him. “Glad I guessed right. I’d hate to have to return it.” He thrust forward slightly, brushing against the steward’s mouth. “But it’s the kind of gift that you have to use,” he urged, hips moving again.
“Just hope I don’t wear it out,” the younger man teased, darting his tongue out to lick at the drop of precum that decorated the flared head nudging his lips. Before Alair could answer, however, Mik opened his mouth, sucking and laving at the hot flesh as he slowly took more of it inside.
Alair’s hands clenched at the almost unbearable pleasure, then reached down to comb through Mik’s hair, curving around his head to hold him close. The holder moaned softly, pushing into the warm, wet haven of his lover’s mouth. “Please, oh please,” he begged.
Mik knew that no harper’s song could sound sweeter to his ears than that quiet begging and that he’d do his utmost to please Alair any way he could. Turning his head from side to side just enough to feel the slide of the holder’s fingers through his hair, Mik began to move, bobbing his head, pulling back so that his lips just encased the tip of Alair’s cock, then dropping down, swallowing him to the root.
Alair nearly screamed when Mik took his entire length, his body tensing at the agonizing pleasure. “Mik!” His fingers tightened in Mik’s hair for an instant before releasing their grip, and his hips drove forward involuntarily. “Shards, yes, oh yes, Miiiik...” He couldn’t hold back another second despite wanting to prolong the pleasure, and he filled Mik’s mouth with his seed.
The steward pulled back slightly, letting the deluge pour into his mouth rather than down his throat. He kept the tip of Alair’s cock in his mouth as he swirled the bitter liquid around, then swallowed it down before letting go of the hold he had on the other man’s flesh. “If you only knew how long I’ve wanted to do that...” he sighed, clambering slowly to his feet and pulling the holder’s head down for a leisurely kiss as he rocked his demanding erection against the older man’s damp groin.
Alair whimpered into Mik’s kiss, the rocking against his still sensitive cock driving him wild. He clung to the steward, feeding hungrily on Mik’s mouth, tasting himself there. He reached down between them, clever fingers stroking the hard shaft and tight sac he found. “Want to feel you inside me,” he whispered in Mik’s ear, his tongue snaking out to trace the whorls. “Want you to take me so hard I still feel you next sevenday.”
The rush of lust and possessiveness engendered by Alair’s moaned out words hit Mik like a hammer blow, and his knees buckled slightly before he caught himself. The move arched his hips hard into the holder’s questing hand, increasing the friction of the callused palm against his tender flesh, and Mik gave a strangled moan.
“If you want that, we’d better get a hold of ourselves long enough to get to one of our rooms. Don’t think there’s any oil in here, and if I take you like I want, neither of us is moving anywhere for the rest of the night.”
Alair groaned harshly and grabbed his pants, yanking them on, and turning to glare at Mik. “Well, what are you waiting for?” One bare foot tapped impatiently, and he ignored his shirt completely. “Mik, if you don’t hurry up, I swear I’ll drag you naked to my rooms!”
“Pushy holders,” the younger man growled, though he, too, was yanking on his pants as quickly as possible. “You want me to hurry?” he asked. “Fine, I’ll hurry!” Swooping in, he scooped Alair into his arms, staggering a bit until he got his balance, then hot-footed it toward the holder’s room, ignoring the looks the both of them were getting.
Alair gasped, initially startled, then he relaxed into Mik’s hold, chuckling faintly at the expressions on the faces of those they passed. “My big strong hero,” he purred, nibbling on a bare shoulder. “And you taste good too. Don’t forget to open the door before running through it,” he suggested before turning his attention to tasting every part of Mik he could reach.
“Hard to keep my mind on that when you keep doing that to me,” Mik gasped, almost stumbling when Alair hit a sensitive spot on his neck. Thankfully, they rounded the corner and arrived at the holder’s rooms without further incident, and Mik lowered his head to lip at Alair’s cheek. “Gotta open the door, ‘Lair. Don’t want to drop you if I lose my grip.”
Alair grumbled but behaved for the moment that it took for Mik to open the door and step through. He saw one of his brothers watching in gape-mouthed astonishment and waved cheerily as the door shut behind them. “Bed, Mik,” he ordered, desperately wanting to feel this man inside him. “Now!”
“Jays and I thought you were pushy before,” Mik teased, silencing the older man with a kiss as he stumbled to the sleeping room, dropping Alair to the bed, then falling on top of him. Threading his fingers through the soft strands of the holder’s hair, Mik sighed, the sound strangely content against the way his body was arching and rubbing against Alair’s. “Oil, ‘Lair, now!” he rasped, mimicking the other man’s order in tone, but not in desperation.
Alair stared up at him in dismay, mind racing as he tried to remember where he might find some. It had been so long... He turned his head, jaw dropping when he saw a container of sweetoil on the nightstand. He closed his eyes, not sure whether he wanted to thank or curse his sister. “Right there,” he said in a strangled tone, nodding toward the container.
Mik was too desperate to put the oil to good use to even think of why it was sitting there next to the bed; he simply grabbed the jar, wrenching it open and pouring a stream out over his hand, not caring that some landed on Alair’s chest as well. “Want you so bad...” the steward whispered, grinding his teeth against the need to take this man, claim him, but knowing that he should probably go slow, at least for this part of it. Pressing a finger inside of the holder, Mik hissed at the clinging heat that enveloped his digit. “How long?” he rasped, beginning to move and twist his finger, waiting for the tight muscle to loosen.
Alair gasped, arching up slightly. “Before I was married,” he admitted, writhing slightly. “Shards, Mik, hurry.” He squirmed, driving the finger deeper inside him. “It’s been so long, I ache, Mik, I need you, please.” He stared at the younger and pulled his legs back, opening himself to his lover.
“Easy, ‘Lair,” Mik crooned, continuing the slow stretching, unwilling and unable to hurt the older man. He added a second, then a third finger, each move drawing groans from both him and the holder. Finally, Mik was sure that Alair was ready, and he pulled away, coating his erection with a thin film of oil, then placing it against the tightly puckered muscle and pushing inside. Alair tensed slightly, and Mik stopped, half sheathed in his lover’s body, desperate with the need to continue, but waiting for Alair to relax again.
Rather than relaxing, Alair released his legs, wrapping them around Mik’s waist and using them to jerk the steward into him. “Ahhh!” He let out a long, hoarse groan of satisfaction, even the slight pain only adding to his pleasure. Passion-glazed blue-green eyes, now almost pure green, rose to meet his lover’s, and he licked his lips.
“Jays, ‘Lair!” Mik exclaimed, fighting the inferno of lust that the older man’s sudden move thrust upon him. “Keep that up and this is going to be over way too soon!” He gazed down at Alair, eyes following the trail of the holder’s tongue over his lips, then retracing it with his own tongue. Alair’s legs tightened around his waist in a silent demand, and Mik began moving, rocking back and forth, the speed and strength of his thrusts increasing as his hands fisted in Alair’s hair.
Alair met every thrust eagerly, his body clutching at Mik inside him. “Hard and fast,” he panted. “Want you too much to wait.” He reached between them to close his hand over his re-awakened cock, stroking it firmly. “Can do long and slow next time,” he rasped, squirming enticingly.
“Works by me,” Mik panted, continuing to devour every inch of Alair’s flesh that he could. He felt the pressure of the holder’s hand closing around himself and gave voice to a throaty purr, pulling back and ramming home harder with each stroke, feeling his cock rake over the small bump of Alair’s prostate and the delightful reaction it caused.
Alair let out tiny wails of pleasure every time Mik hit his prostate, and his legs tightened around the steward’s body. His hand sped up on his cock, and he lunged upward to bite at Mik’s lips, then lick at the slight wounds. “Shards, please, Mik, gotta come...” he whimpered, his body trembling.
“Just... one thing first.” Mik gasped the words out between his clenched teeth, his body fighting to let go into the oblivion of his lover’s. Alair whined at that, and Mik kissed the small noise away, tasting the blood where the holder’s teeth had sunk into his lip. “Smile for me, ‘Lair, then we can both let go.”
Alair’s eyes flew open, and he gaped at the crazy man in disbelief. After a moment, a tiny smile appeared on his face, then spread until he was laughing uncontrollably. He tightened his legs around Mik again to prevent them from separating until he calmed.
“Idiot,” he said fondly, starting to move again, a bit more in control for the moment.
“Finally figured it out.” That said, Mik twisted his head around, nipping at Alair’s neck, marking the other man for the whole hold to see. The increasingly needy gyrations of the older man beneath him snapped the remaining tethers on Mik’s need, and he howled against the damp flesh under him, the spasms that wracked his body jetting his seed to fill his lover.
Alair gasped, biting his lip, fighting to hold back until Mik came, then separating, flipping them over, pausing only long enough to coat his cock with the oil before driving into his pleasure-loosened lover in one movement, growling his pleasure as he came inside Mik.
The steward was rendered speechless by the quick series of movements and most of all by the feel of Alair’s orgasm pulsing deep inside him. Squirming lightly, he settled them more comfortably against the mattress, then grinned up at his lover. “Can safely say this is the best first date I’ve ever had, how about you?”
Alair chuckled, the sound a bit rusty. “It was certainly memorable. And spectacular,” he added, kissing the man beneath him. “I’m glad you bought me. Not only did it get us together, but now you have no money, so you can’t get away from me,” he teased gently.
“Mmm, guess I’ll have to find some other means to pay my way then, won’t I?” Mik answered, his eyes lighting up at the sound of Alair’s laughter. “Unless someone is willing to advance me my marks?”
Alair pretended to consider it. “No,” he said finally, “can’t do it. It sets a bad precedent. I can’t loan marks. But I’m sure we could find a commodity that you could trade for lodgings and clothing.” He stroked Mik’s body lightly. “Got any ideas?”
“Always been a hard worker,” Mik sighed, arching to follow the path of Alair’s hand on his skin. “And a quick learner too. Bet I could think of some ways to make you very happy, Holder. What do you think?”
“I think I’d like to hear more about what you have in mind. I can’t agree to a deal without knowing all the terms, after all,” Alair teased. “Keeping the holder happy is a very important job and one not without certain dangers. It’s an exhausting duty to fulfil. Do you think you’re up to it?”
“I think you should let your steward worry about the terms and conditions of this contract. After all, he is supposed to look out for your best interests, isn’t he?” the younger man smirked, sliding a hand down Alair’s chest to tease his nipples. “As for me being up to it, I’m not quite there, but keep that up and I will be in no time.”
“So you think I can trust my steward with such delicate negotiations? He’ll be able to provide me with everything I need?” Alair smiled, his fingers teasingly circling around the filling cock, combing through the damp hair at its base, then moving away again without touching it. He purred softly as Mik played with his nipples and pressed a little closer.
“I think my steward has a new office where he performs his primary duties,” he said. “This is much more comfortable than the desk, don’t you think?”
Mik made a low, needy sound and twisted his lower body, trying to get Alair to move his hand back to where he wanted it. “Think your steward has been ready and willing to do that for quite some time; all you have to do is tell him what you want, and he’ll make sure you have it.”
His hands slipped lower, tracing the holder’s washboard abs then dipping into Alair’s naval before cupping and stroking his shaft. “Much more comfortable though the desk does have a certain charm to it... If you keep him in here all the time though, is anything else ever going to get done?”
Alair paused to consider that. “Good point,” he admitted. “Guess I’ll have to replace you as steward and keep you chained to my bed.” He continued to tease Mik, his hand coming close to the younger man’s erection, then slipping away again, and he pushed into Mik’s hand, biting back a moan. “I think you’d look nicely ornamental naked and in chains. Wanna be my toy?” He punctuated his question by fastening his mouth onto Mik’s neck and sucking hard, marking him.
“What?!” the younger man exclaimed, the word dying away into a guttural moan as Alair’s deft fingers slid over and around him. Arching his head to the side and tangling one hand in the holder’s long hair while the other remained where it was, Mik pushed up into the harsh suction, welcoming the marking, the claiming.
“If - if you did that, then who would you get to run the hold?” he asked, whimpering lightly at the image of Alair standing over him like that.
Alair smirked. “There’s a promising young man who arrived a couple of weeks ago who could probably do a good job as the steward. And if I put Aerlia in charge, we can both hole up in here forever, and no one would even miss us.” He nibbled on Mik’s neck. “We’ll have them send us food and water every so often, and we’ll be perfectly content. Bowlegged, but content,” he snickered.
“What promising young man?” Mik growled, finally grabbing Alair’s wandering hand and placing it right where he wanted it. “Better not be anyone else sniffing around you, ‘Lair; it took me long enough to get you to notice me!” So intent on that comment was the young man that he totally ignored the rest of the holder’s words.
Alair gaped at him in surprise. “You’re jealous!” He sounded amazed. “Don’t be absurd, Mik. Even if I were interested, which I’m not, no one else has the slightest interest in me. It’s amazing enough that you are.” Despite his surprise, he didn’t fail to start stroking the rigid flesh beneath his hand.
Now it was Mik’s turn to stare at his lover in disbelief. “No one else wants you? ‘Lair, I hate to tell you this, but that is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard in my life!” The steward’s voice tightened with each sweep of his lover’s hand over him, but he kept frowning.
Alair blinked in surprise, his hand slowing. “What are you talking about? I can assure you that no one’s expressed the slightest interest. You’re the one that everyone watches and wants.” A hint of possessiveness crept into his voice, and his hand wrapped more tightly around Mik.
“You have heat stroke, Holder?” the steward queried, shifting his hips restlessly at the increasing pressure around his shaft. “I can name twenty people in this hold alone who want you without thinking twice! No one wants you... crazy man,” he scoffed, pulling Alair in and rubbing his face against the older man’s hair. “But no one else had better get near you.”
Alair snorted. “You’re nuts, but it’s kind of cute. Just don’t ever come to your senses and realize how boring I am, all right? I don’t want to lose you now that I’ve found you.” He suddenly shifted down to take Mik’s cock in his mouth.
“Boring?” Mik was unable to say more then that as Alair swallowed him down, enclosing his cock in a delightfully wet warmth. “’Lair, you can say that and then do that? So, so wrong,” he moaned, rocking up into the holder’s lips.
Alair was unconvinced, but he was more interested in pleasuring his lover than in arguing about his delusions. He sucked Mik’s full length into his mouth, smelling the musk of the other man, allowing his tongue to flick along the length of the shaft. One finger slipped between Mik’s cheeks to tease gently at his opening, lightly skimming the sensitive flesh.
He pulled back for a moment to look up at the beautiful man lying in his bed. “Wanna taste you, Mik. Wanna hear you call my name when you come.” He licked the tip of the steward’s cock, tasting the clear fluid gathering there, then swallowed him again.
“Shards!” Mik howled, bucking upwards into the wonderful heat of Alair’s mouth, then back against his teasing finger. “’Lair, jays baby, please, just like that, so beautiful, so mine, so...” The steward’s voice trailed off into nonsensical babbling as Alair worked his cock with enthusiastic skill. Mik’s fingers clenched in the older man’s hair, and he forced himself not to yank on his lover’s head, even as his voice rose to a high-pitched whine, one that turned into a shout as Alair pushed a finger inside of him, triggering his climax.
When Mik relaxed back down onto the bed, Alair released him with a final lick to catch any drops he might have missed and sat up. He stared down at his lover, eyes hot. He waited until Mik’s eyes opened and focused on him, then he started to stroke himself, sobbing softly.
“Watch me, Mik, want to feel your eyes on me,” he gasped, his hand moving rapidly over his straining cock.
The younger man made a noise that was exceedingly close to a whimper, and he pushed up on his elbows, then rolled over, crawling closer to Alair, his eyes glued to the holder’s hand and the prize held within it.
“’Lair - baby - “ he breathed, moving up beside the holder, his hands reaching out to pet and stroke the older man’s hair, back and side, needing to touch Alair as he reached for his climax. “That’s it, touch yourself, show me what you like, what you want. I’m going to remember it all, and use it on you when you least expect it. Maybe in the dining hall if we’re sitting together. Maybe in your office with a cotholder waiting outside for a meeting. I don’t know yet, but I do know it’s going to happen.
Mik leaned in and licked a path along Alair’s arm, feeling the jump of the muscles under the holder’s smooth skin as he continued to pleasure himself. “Come for me, ‘Lair,” he rasped, rubbing his face against Alair’s skin, avidly watching the motions of his lover’s hand. “Show me what you like, what makes you hot.”
Alair gasped, feeling his cock jump at Mik’s words, imagining the steward touching him, making him come in public. “Jays, lover! Any time, anywhere, want you so bad.”
He shuddered, forcing his hand to slow, drawing it out. “I like you, you make me hot. Been imagining it was you with me every time I touched myself for sevendays now. Couldn’t admit it, but I wanted you so bad...”
Alair whined softly, control slipping away from him, staring down at Mik’s head practically in his lap. He groaned, and the pleasure ripped through him, his semen spurting out over his hand and belly while Mik watched avidly.
The younger man gave a soft groan as he watched his lover climax, then bent over him, licking the evidence of his orgasm away from his body, then his hand. “Got me now; don’t have to do that yourself, unless you really want to. If I wasn’t half-dead right now, that little show would definitely have got me going again. Will have to remember it later on, then you watch out,” he chuckled before sucking Alair’s long fingers into his mouth.
Alair chuckled softly. “I happen to like teasing you. It’s fun.” He stretched out beside the younger man, curling around him happily. “Lots of things are fun with you.” He freed his fingers from Mik’s mouth, replacing them with his tongue as he kissed the steward, tasting himself in Mik’s mouth.
“Hmmm, so we’re over the ‘frivolous steward’ phase then?” Mik teased, tickling Alair’s lips with his own as he wrapped his arms around the older man. “And I’m really interested in seeing what you come up with for our ‘second date’ too.”
A snort was his only reply as Alair concentrated on stroking him, exploring the younger man’s body with his hands. “Thought we’d just stay right here in this bed for a Turn or two,” he finally replied. “We can call it the first, second, third and fourth dates probably.” He looked at Mik nervously. “I really would like you to stay here with me.”
“Sounds like one long one to me.” Mik grinned, then grew serious as he heard the rest of what Alair was saying. “Tonight?” he asked, “I had hoped to stay; don’t think I can drag myself back to my rooms, honestly.”
Alair chewed his lip, tearing at it, a nervous habit he’d never been able to break. “Not just tonight, fore- for as long as you want to stay.” He traced a pattern on the bed furs, unable to meet Mik’s eyes, too worried about his reply.
Frowning slightly, Mik reached up and gently disengaged Alair’s lips from between his teeth, wiping away the stain of blood that marked where the flesh had torn. “You want me to stay?” he repeated, not quite able to believe that he was being offered this chance.
Alair looked up when he heard the uncertainty in Mik’s voice. “If you want to,” he said tentatively, his eyes fixed unblinkingly on Mik’s. “I... I want you to stay with me, move into my rooms, make them our rooms, Mik. I don’t want to share you, Mik,” Alair finished in a nervous rush, unsure if this beautiful man would even consider staying with him.
Mik’s blue eyes widened to the limit at that. “Our rooms?” he repeated. “As in permanently?” His brain had locked up somewhere between Alair’s comment and acknowledging that indeed this man did want him and for more then a night’s fun. “As in I’m yours, you’re mine?”
Alair was surprised by Mik’s surprise. “Well, yeah. I don’t make a habit of changing lovers like I do the bed covers. And someone like me’d be nuts to let someone like you get away.” He caught one of Mik’s hands in his. “So will you?” he asked anxiously.
“You bet,” Mik smiled, before cocking his head and looking hard at Alair. “And what do you mean ‘someone like you’?”
Alair frowned slightly, not sure whether Mik meant his reference to himself or the holder. “Well, you’re gorgeous and smart, and half the people at Byzant want you. I’m... I’m boring. I know I look good, but I’m too serious for most people, so they stay away.”
The steward shook his head in wonderment, placing his hand on the side of the older man’s face. “There is a difference between serious and boring, you know. I like serious, because it means that I’m the only one who is treated to this side of you.” He stopped and cocked an eyebrow at Alair. “I am the only one treated to this side of you, aren’t I?”
Alair stared at him, surprised again. “You want to be?” He shifted a little closer, draping a leg over Mik’s hip and tucking his head against the steward’s shoulder. “That works both ways, you know.” He held his breath, waiting for Mik’s reply.
“It had better,” Mik answered, pulling Alair closer and flipping the fur up to cover the both of them. “And why would I want to be the only one treated to this side of you if I wanted to treat myself to someone else too? Kind of like the one-on-one set up.”
Alair purred and managed to get a little closer. “I like the sound of that, Mikaelian. I really like the idea of waking up tomorrow morning and seeing you first thing.” He chuckled suddenly. “I just don’t really advise talking to me before I’ve had my first cup of klah. Unless you think you have a better way for me to start the day?” he grinned.
The holder shifted a bit more so he was now settled comfortably on top of the smaller man. “Mmmmm, you make a nice pillow.” He licked Mik’s shoulder for the sheer pleasure of it. “I could get used to this.”
“Me too.” The steward sighed and ran his hands down to cup his lover’s ass. “And I know I can come up with a way to wake you up with a smile on your face, trust me, ‘Lair.”
“Counting on it,” Alair murmured sleepily, his head tucked into the hollow of Mik’s shoulder as he drifted off, a small sound like a purr rumbling in his chest.