The unfortunate thing about the armor of the Master of the House of Darts was that the aforementioned Master of the House of Darts couldn’t actually put it on himself. He simply wasn’t flexible enough to reach the ties on his own back. Normally there were slaves to help him, but this morning was special.
This morning there was Acatl, who’d soothed the sting of his ritual bloodletting with kisses and joined him for a bath that had only not gotten them extremely distracted because it was frankly too cold to get up to anything interesting. Who was even now smoothing the feathers of his quilted cotton suit so that they lay flat and gently tweaking his headdress so the plumes fell correctly. Who’d stared at him in actual surprise when Teomitl had shown up the night before with his gear, as though there was any question of them not taking the chance for one last night together before he went off to another campaign.
Warm fingers grazed his back as Acatl tightened the knot, and he couldn’t suppress a shiver even as he grinned. “So, what do you want me to bring you from the Mixtec lands?”
Acatl was silent for a moment. Teomitl wondered what he’d asked for. He always said he never needed anything, but he’d seemed pleased with the gifts of knives and codices and interestingly shaped rocks. Maybe I’ll bring him a new chocolate cup, he mused. The one he uses is so plain.
Finally his lover said simply, “Yourself, safe and sound.”
Teomitl’s face went hot. “I—you—” He started. I can’t promise that. You can’t just say that. If you keep being so sweet and sincere, I won’t even want to leave.
He heard Acatl chuckle behind him a moment before soft lips brushed the nape of his neck. “I have faith in you,” he whispered. “Go and bring us glory.”
Obsidian & Blood, Acatl/Teomitl
The unfortunate thing about the armor of the Master of the House of Darts was that the aforementioned Master of the House of Darts couldn’t actually put it on himself. He simply wasn’t flexible enough to reach the ties on his own back. Normally there were slaves to help him, but this morning was special.
This morning there was Acatl, who’d soothed the sting of his ritual bloodletting with kisses and joined him for a bath that had only not gotten them extremely distracted because it was frankly too cold to get up to anything interesting. Who was even now smoothing the feathers of his quilted cotton suit so that they lay flat and gently tweaking his headdress so the plumes fell correctly. Who’d stared at him in actual surprise when Teomitl had shown up the night before with his gear, as though there was any question of them not taking the chance for one last night together before he went off to another campaign.
Warm fingers grazed his back as Acatl tightened the knot, and he couldn’t suppress a shiver even as he grinned. “So, what do you want me to bring you from the Mixtec lands?”
Acatl was silent for a moment. Teomitl wondered what he’d asked for. He always said he never needed anything, but he’d seemed pleased with the gifts of knives and codices and interestingly shaped rocks. Maybe I’ll bring him a new chocolate cup, he mused. The one he uses is so plain.
Finally his lover said simply, “Yourself, safe and sound.”
Teomitl’s face went hot. “I—you—” He started. I can’t promise that. You can’t just say that. If you keep being so sweet and sincere, I won’t even want to leave.
He heard Acatl chuckle behind him a moment before soft lips brushed the nape of his neck. “I have faith in you,” he whispered. “Go and bring us glory.”