Taj MuttHall unbound

inspired by this little story by @dreamdropxoxo –You must read that first!

(Mar 1, 2023, just copied this to AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45428614)

They stood at the balustrade overlooking the sea, shoulder to shoulder, leaning against the cool stone to watch the distant rainbow fade as the last of the light, misty rain moved on. It had been warm rain, and they weren’t wearing much in any case, having been involved in another activity when Laurent spotted the rainbow.  The morning sun, behind them, broke through the clouds and touched their unclad shoulders with warm tendrils, a hint of the coming heat of the day.

Laurent loved the Summer Palace and its view across the vast expanse of ever-changing sea. As King of Akielos-Vere, it had become half his. In all the years that they’d come out here from Marlas for brief respites, he had never tired of it.  Of course, some of it possibly had to do with the other recreational activities in which they partook, frequently, passionately, skin and hands and lips and cocks. Something that ruling the  joined kingdoms seldom gave them sufficient time for back home.

Home.  

Damen was his home.

Laurent found his husband’s hand without looking away from the now-pastel colors, meshed his fingers with Damen’s willing ones. Squeezed an I-love-you.  And then, with a slow caress of his thumb on Damen’s palm, an I-haven’t-forgotten-what-we-were-doing.

Damen turned his head to give him a smile—that smile that could warm him more than any sun. Laurent looked back, trying to appear chiding, and raised an eyebrow. And, so…?

Damen laughed, stepped back, and pulled Laurent to face him. “So, husband,” he said, letting his gaze run down Laurent’s torso to the expected response of his body.  “A rainbow was better than that? Are you sure that you wouldn’t rather stand here and hope for another? More clouds are coming our way.” 

A shiver of arousal ran up Laurent’s back. He grabbed Damen’s elbows, and Damen responded in kind. They looked at each other, deeply, happily. The sun lit the crests of Damen’s shoulders and backlit the glorious curly dark hair as if with an aura of joy. And then Laurent saw it.

Possibly just an oddity of the light, but still—

Damen tried to follow his gaze. “What are you — is there something in my hair?”

He raised his hand to brush at  it, but Laurent was faster.  His fingers grabbed the lock of hair, then separated it between his thumb and forefinger, until he held a single hair. He yanked it and held it up to the light.

“Ow!” yelped Damen, offended.

“Am I mistaken,” Laurent said with mock horror, “or is this a gray hair I espy?”

“What? Let me see!” 

Damen made a grab for Laurent’s hand, but Laurent was faster. Still. As always. And he wasn’t about to let the chance for a good teasing pass him by.

“So, I see how it is, Damen.” With disappointment in his voice. “Taking something that I love and altering it without consulting me.”  He held the hair out to the side at arm’s length, moving to avoid Damen’s reach, examining it with squinted eyes. He looked up at the other King of Vere-Akielos. Who was grinning, his eyes crinkling. “I thought we agreed, husband,” he continued, “not to make any major architectural changes without the other’s permission?”

“I planned this for months behind your back. In fact—” Damen gave up the chase for Laurent’s hand, instead running his fingers down Laurent’s waist, around to the firm buttocks, and then squeezing very close to a currently sensitive spot, which sent another hot shiver up Laurent’s spine. “—being behind your back is where I make some of my best decisions.”

Laurent opened his eyes wide. “I’m not sure this is a wise decision at all, my dear Barbarian! Because you know what this means?”

“Mmmmmm?” Damen’s lips were now nibbling at Laurent’s neck. Laurent wasn’t sure how long he could keep up the pretense. So  he went on the offensive.

“It means— it certainly appears —“ Words were starting to fail him. Damen cheated, that’s for certain. “Damen, are you—growing old?”

For a moment, the movements against his backside and his neck froze. And then Damen growled. “Old?” he said in that deep, rough voice that Laurent’s body always responded to, too much and too easily.  “I’ll show you old!”

Damen stood back, then quickly bent, grabbed Laurent at the waist, and hefted him easily over his shoulder before Laurent could react.

Trying to stifle his own laughter, Laurent said, “At your advanced age, I wouldn’t try carrying me far—you might hurt yourself!” He struggled against that unyielding arm, those perfect muscles. “Put me down, you big animal!” Damen ignored him, laughing easily, and turned around, heading now through the vast terraced gardens towards the palace itself. 

Laurent honestly tried to wrest himself from that grip, even though he knew he’d fail. The fun was in the game. “You take liberties! I never gave you permission to haul me around like a bag of armor!”

“You never stopped me before,” said Damen with a bit too much glee.

“That,” said Laurent, “is because I can’t stop you! Put me down!” But his body was ready, hard, starting to ache with want.  So he added, “If you insist on proceeding like this, then do it faster!”

“I love hearing you say that. Say it again.”

Laurent finally gave in, simply supporting himself as best he could as Damen strode.

It was going to be another glorious morning.