by T D Cloud
Sorin grimaced. He hoped Navidae wouldn’t ask what he’d been saying. Careful as he could, Sorin shifted in his seat, willing his cock to calm down. The two Drow were talking to one another, switching languages so fast that Sorin couldn’t even begin to figure out what they were saying. Something about Khouri wanting to be touched, he gathered, noting how Navidae’s eyes narrowed, his nostrils flaring. He didn’t look mad, per se; he looked hungry. Carefully contained hunger that was smothered before it could grow hot.
Khouri tugged on Navidae’s sleeve, bringing him further into the room. It was when he pulled away a bit that Navidae seemed to get a proper look at him. He stopped walking, pulling Khouri to a stop as well. “That’s lovely, blackbird, but what are you wearing?” Navidae murmured, eyes locked on Khouri’s bare legs and the ruffled bloomers hugging his thighs.
Khouri gave a little spin, putting on a coquettish front that Sorin had only seen him wear when he was trying to get something he really wanted but knew he’d be denied if he asked for it upfront. “They’re called bloomers,” he said sweetly, moving closer to take Navidae’s hand in his own and then move it to his rear, encouraging him to touch. “Do you like them?
They’re really comfortable.”
Sorin rolled his eyes at how easily Navidae fell for it all. The man smirked, dragging Khouri against his front to let him fondle his thigh and ass. “I really do, pet,” he breathed, giving Khouri a kiss that probably counted as chaste for them. To Sorin it looked like entirely too much for the company they had sitting not even five feet away.
“That’s all well and good,” Sorin said loudly, breaking them up before they completely forget he was there. “I’ll be sure to let my sister know you like her hand-me-downs. Was there something you wanted, Navidae? I thought you had a lot of work to be doing right now.”
“Thank you for that unnecessary reminder,” Navidae said tightly. He glanced at Khouri for a second, and then looked back to Sorin. “There is in fact something I came here for.”
“But it can wait, right? I feel like I haven’t seen you in days. We’re all together too.” Khouri bit his lip and looked at Navidae with winsome eyes, the ideas flooding his head visible even to Sorin. He snagged Navidae’s hand from his cheek and tugged him towards the table. “Have fun with us,” he offered. “There are so many games we can play with three people, and I can grab another chair—”
“Ah, Khouri,” Navidae interrupted, pulling his hand away. “I’m here on business. It’s not really a break.”
Khouri froze, cocking his head as his smile began to fade. “Business?” he wondered. “What do you need from me? We can talk in your study; you didn’t have to come all the way down here for something like that.”
Navidae’s smile grew tight. He held his hands behind his back. “I need to talk to Sorin,” he said. “I didn’t think he’d be here with you, so I came myself.” Sorin cleared his throat, looking from Khouri deflating to Navidae steadfastly ignoring it. “What do you need with me?” he asked, shifting a bit in his chair. Khouri was staring at the floor now, holding himself tightly.
“It’s… something we need to discuss privately,” Navidae said, giving Khouri an obvious look. “Khouri, can you wait outside for a bit?”
“For what?”
Navidae blinked. “What do you mean, for what?”
Khouri looked up, his lips set into a hard frown. “Wait outside for what?” he repeated, tightening his hands into fists at his sides. “Will we spend time together once you’re done?”
Sorin stiffened at that. He looked between the two of them, biting down on his lip. Ah. That explained why Khouri was so desperate to keep playing. Navidae must be ignoring him, the fucking idiot.
“Khouri,” Navidae sighed, rubbing at his eyes tiredly. “Please don’t be like that when I’m just—”
“For what, Navi.” Khouri’s hands curled into tight fists at his side. “You didn’t come to bed the day before last. You told me you would last night, and you didn’t again. So, what am I waiting for now? More of the same?”
Navidae pursed his lips. A muscle in his jaw went tight. “For me to leave and go back to work, pet,” he said stiffly. “So you and Sorin can go back to whatever it is you were doing.”
Sorin held his breath, but Khouri clearly didn’t. He let out a harsh sigh. His lips quivered. He looked at the ground, hiding his face from sight with his fringe. “Fine,” he whispered. Without a single look back he made for the door, clipping Navidae’s shoulder as he passed him by. They watched him open the door and then slam it behind him, the art on the shared wall shaking from the force of his exit. Something cold settled in the pit of Sorin’s stomach. It was a harsh contrast to the warmth they had just been enjoying not even five minutes before.
“You shouldn’t treat him like that,” Sorin said tersely, his voice a bit loud in the silence that followed. “I know you don’t want him to find out, but shoving him away without him knowing why is going to cause problems. He deserves better than this.”
There was a beat of nothing before Navidae finally replied, “You think I don’t know that?” His voice was steady. Clipped and cool, his true emotions locked up tightly behind a wall.
Navidae crossed his arms defensively, glaring at the fire. “It’s better if he keeps his distance from me for the time being. At least... At least until I get things figured out. I don’t have time to spare tending to him, and the more I’m with him the bigger chance there is of him figuring out that something is wrong.”
“I thought you were taking care of things,” Sorin pressed, giving Navidae a careful once over. He looked far more tired than he had the last time they were alone together. Navidae’s hair was a mess of curls and tangles, his eyes dark with exhaustion that even his skin tone couldn’t hide. His clothes looked like they had been slept in. His usual energy was muted.
“Something’s happened, hasn’t it?” Sorin guessed once he caught Navidae’s gaze. “Something bad.”
Navidae scoffed, kicking at the expensive rug with the toe of his shoe. “Well, it’s certainly not good,” he said, breaking eye contact with an odd expression on his face. He quickly turned around, pretending to take in the art hanging on the far wall.
Sorin waited a beat. “You going to tell me?”
Shoulders tense, Navidae held himself a little tighter. “Stand up,” he said suddenly, turning around to give Sorin a considering look.
“What?”
“Stand up. I didn’t come here just to talk to you,” Navidae groused, walking back over to the card table to hover impatiently by Sorin’s chair. He dug into his pocket and pulled out a small roll. Upon closer inspection, Sorin saw it was marked at regular intervals.
“What are you intending to do?” Sorin asked slowly, holding tight to the arms of his chair. He looked from the roll to Navidae and then back to the roll. “What is that thing?”
Navidae pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers, giving a long, low sigh of exhaustion. “It’s a measuring tape,” he explained with utter resignation. “There is a gala being thrown here in a few odd days. Did you really assume I’d permit you to attend while wearing those beaten up rags you call clothes?”
Sorin rolled his eyes and stood, pushing away from the chair. “What’s wrong with my clothes?” he wondered, eyes widening a little when Navidae grabbed his arm and began to drag him away from the table. Sorin stumbled after him.
“Woah,” he grunted. “Don’t you have professionals for this?” “I don’t enjoy sending out for the tailor when it’s just measurements that need to be taken,” Navidae muttered, dragging Sorin over to the fireplace with rough, impatient hands. “Strip off your shirt and boots. This won’t take long.”
“I’m not sure I appreciate being manhandled by a man a head shorter than me,” Sorin muttered, kicking off his boots as he shucked his shirt over his head and tossed it to the chair he’d been torn from.
“The tailor I employ is Khouri’s height, and I promise you
she would treat you far worse than I will.” Navidae walked around Sorin with his arms crossed and eyes keen, examining what Sorin’s chest and body with unsettling intensity. Sorin fought the urge to cover himself, instead standing tall and staring right on back. When Navidae finally met Sorin’s gaze, it was with a begrudging smile.
“What is it?” Sorin grunted. “Like what you see?”
Navidae rolled his eyes and gave him a lazy smirk. “Who knows?” he answered breezily, moving back around Sorin. “Hard to say when you’re only half dressed.”
Sorin narrowed his own eyes, glaring at the fire. “Are you enjoying this?”
“Are you? You certainly seemed to be enjoying yourself when I came in.” Sorin jolted when the cold touch of something firm and thin grazed his bare skin. The tape, he reminded himself. Not a knife. “What’s it like? Being able to play freely without any fear of what may come to pass. Must be nice. Must be an absolute dream.”
Shifting a bit, Sorin tried not to flinch too much when Navidae began touching him. The tape was cold, Navidae’s hands warm. “What happened already?” he bit, his skin already uncomfortably hot from Khouri’s touch. This probably wasn’t the best time for something like this but he had a feeling if he tried to deter Navidae, it wouldn’t get him far.
Navidae scoffed. Sorin was beginning to notice a trend. “What happened,” Navidae began, “or should I say, what didn't happen, has brought us all one step closer to utter ruin.”
“Well, that’s certainly foreboding.”
A slap snapped against his shoulder, urging him to lift his arms and turn to the side. “Understatement of the century, Sorin,” Navidae muttered. “My preliminary bid for support has returned nothing but shallow apologies and thinly veiled disdain. Support is flocking around Gorgew. No one wants to even look in my direction anymore.”
“What… Why?” The tape chilled the skin of his shoulder to his wrist, Navidae’s quick fingers just little pinpricks of warmth that disappeared far too quickly to give much relief to the cold. “I thought you said—”
Arms wrapped around Sorin’s chest from behind, startling him into silence. The tape settled over his pecs, pulled tight as Navidae sighed against his shoulder blade. He was standing so close. The heat of his body burned a line down Sorin’s spine. Tighter went the tape. Sorin held his breath, watching the thin black ribbon cut into his flesh.
“I know what I said,” Navidae whispered, only letting the tape slacken when he was ready to move on. He didn’t bother backing away as he moved the tape lower, winding it around Sorin’s hips. He only moved as he spoke, coming around slowly to read the marking from the front. “But she got to them first. She stood behind Gorgew and the rest—those too weak to think for themselves—rushed to follow.”
Sorin tried to meet Navidae’s down-turned eyes. It was impossible; he wouldn’t look anywhere above Sorin’s waist. “Did you write a letter to her? If you could get her to reconsider—”
“Impossible.”
“But if you tried—”
There. There were Navidae’s eyes, blood red and narrowed in a nasty sneer. “I think I know my own mother better than you, hunter,” he snapped, taking the tape in hand as he quickly moved behind Sorin once more.
There was a pregnant pause. “Your mother?” Sorin echoed, twisting himself at the waist to try and make sure Navidae wasn’t screwing with him. “You’re telling me your own flesh- and-blood mother is the one responsible for all of this?”
“That is what I said,” Navidae muttered under his breath, smacking Sorin sharply on the shoulder to make him turn back around. “Stop fidgeting. You’ll make me mess up.”
“I don’t think I can do much more to mess you up,” Sorin said, shaking his head in disbelief as he faced the fire once more. The cool tape wrapped around his bicep, Navidae’s quick, elegant fingers tightening it and making quick work of the measurement. “Why the hell is she doing all of this then? She’s your mom.”
Navidae pulled the tape away in a huff. “As we’ve well established already,” he sniped, shoving at Sorin’s arms until he had them lowered the way he wanted them to be lowered. “You can stop repeating it. We may be underground but I don’t recall asking for an echo to be installed in this room.”
Sorin let out a snort, shivering a little when the tape settled along his shoulders next. “Fine. Did you try apologizing to her?” he wondered next, thinking back to all the times he ever got on the wrong side of his mother. She had never tried to do anything to sabotage him, obviously, but he’d had his fair share of screw ups with her that led her to taking anyone else’s side but his. “You said she presented it as you damaging Houses she was affiliated with; did you consider maybe that upset her?
Being attacked by her own son… That can’t be a good feeling.”
The tape moved again, the cold end a chilly chip of ice against the base of Sorin’s neck. “You don’t know us at all,” Navidae murmured. “As if that would be something shocking to her.”
Sorin let out a breath. “You never tried it, did you?”
Navidae’s hands slowed against his spine, the room falling silent. Sorin tried to resist the urge to turn around and see what sort of expression the Drow wore. He stared at the fire instead, counting in his head until Navidae decided to answer him.
“No,” he said after half a minute of nothing. “I haven’t.”
Sorin swallowed, sensing this was sensitive territory. “Have you considered it might be a good idea to try?” he said gently, flinching when Navidae’s hands resumed movement, the cool edge of the measuring tape a shock against his bare skin. “I don’t know your mother—”
“That’s right,” Navidae said, his tone clipped. “You don’t know her. You’ve never met anyone like her, Sorin, and I scarcely imagine you ever will unless fate decides to punish you for something terrible you’ve done.”
“Don’t get snippy with me,” Sorin said, glancing over his shoulder. He stilled when he saw how Navidae averted his eyes, his jaw tight and his brow furrowed in worry he couldn’t hide. When he spoke again, he made sure his voice was soft. “All I was saying was that I don’t know your mother, but of the ones I do know, they tend to be open to communication. And apologies.”
Navidae let out a harsh laugh before dropping to his knees. Sorin startled when a hand smacked his inner thigh. “Spread your legs,” Navidae ordered, his tone just firm enough to tinge Sorin’s cheeks warm. “Apologies don’t get you much down here. It’s ludicrous to assume it’d get me anything with her when she’s made it abundantly clear that she will back my political enemies over me all for the chance to watch me lose everything.”
“I think you need to tell Khouri,” Sorin said, flinching again when the tape pressed against his leg, this time from hip to ankle. Navidae’s fingers weren’t as startling through the fabric of his pants. Small mercies. “Wasn’t that the agreement? When things got worse, we’d do something about it?”
The line of the tape disappeared. Navidae glanced up at him, his eyes hard beneath his messy fringe. “Things are worse,” he agreed, “but we are nowhere near out of options. Khouri doesn’t need to know. I’m only telling you because you wished to be updated as things happen.”
“Well, if you won’t talk to your mother, then what other options are there?” He bit down on the inside of his cheek when Navidae rolled his eyes, his lips forming a smirk.
The tape moved again, this time between Sorin’s legs. To measure his inseam, he told himself, but telling himself it was innocuous didn’t lessen the flood of heat that tore through his veins. Navidae was too close to him; his breath was warm enough to bleed through the fabric of Sorin’s trousers, tickling the skin of his thigh.
“The party is still on,” Navidae said, his voice low. Why was it so low? Sorin balled his hands into fists. “The invitations are nearly all sent. So what if they side with him now? I’ll entice them to side with me then. Khouri doesn’t need to know, Sorin. Have a little faith.”
&nbs
p; “It’s… It’s a little hard to have faith,” Sorin said through clenched teeth, “when Khouri is miserable from all the secrets being kept from him. You aren’t even sleeping with him at night.”
Sorin didn’t miss how Navidae licked his full bottom lip. The hand cupping his thigh tightened, and Sorin felt the sharp pricks of Navidae’s nails through the cotton of his trousers.
“You seem perfectly happy keeping Khouri occupied while I can’t,” the Lord observed, his voice low, his tone molten. Sorin began to sweat, something he hadn’t thought possible given the chill this place held. “Perhaps you should do more so he misses me a little less.”
The nails burned a trail down his thigh. “I thought you hated me,” Sorin said quietly, reading the mood for what it was.
Navidae blinked slowly like a cat. His cheek brushed Sorin’s thigh as he stood, his long, compact body dragging every inch of the way up. “I said dislike,” Navidae crooned, his voice so low in Sorin’s ear. “I never said anything about hate.” It was up to Sorin to back away because Navidae looked feral enough to act on whatever bout of insanity it was spurring him into this behavior. Was it a Drow trait to respond to stress with sex? Knowing Navidae and his need for control, it just might be. Sorin stumbled a bit over a boot, catching himself on the chair. Navidae kept his distance; his eyes, however, raked up Sorin’s form for a few seconds before he bothered to wind up the measuring tape still hanging from his hand.
“Khouri wants us to get along,” Navidae said breezily, meeting Sorin’s gaze with a brow raised. “I need him content until I sort things out once and for all. I don’t hate you, Sorin. I need you. I would suggest you keep the difference in mind. For future reference.”
Sorin swallowed, his heart hammering in his chest. He had no idea what just happened but his cock was a right side harder than it had been at the beginning of their little talk. He managed to nod his head, looking down at the card table and the deck still sitting in its careful stack.