by T D Cloud
“I realized that about two seconds after I walked in.” But really, what else could he do? Even if he got rid of the beard completely he still had to contend with the fact that he towered above these Drow, that his ears were round, his eyes blue, and his skin pale. “I just assumed they would have grown bored of looking at the human by now.”
“Not likely. We never get humans down here.”
Sorin snorted. “I can imagine why. I didn’t think Drow would be all that fond of us.” He scanned the crowd a little, wrinkling his nose when dozens of eyes stared back. “I’m probably an eyesore for everyone here.”
Dark eyes blinked, then narrowed. “Can you hear them?” Khouri whispered, his voice a teasing warmth against Sorin’s ear. The change in topic seemed to have worked in distracting him from his worries. “Can you feel them watching you?”
“Yeah, and I don’t think I like it,” he answered, wrapping an arm around Khouri’s waist to hold him against his chest. So long as Khouri kept his attention on him, he could deal with being the topic of discussion. Everyone’s topic of choice, it seemed. The nobles were indeed staring, some outright glaring at them. “What’s their problem? Am I ruined the party by hanging around like this?”
Khouri snorted elegantly. He pulled back just enough to kiss Sorin’s lips wetly. “Ruining? Oh, Sorin. I keep forgetting you can’t understand them.” He smiled brightly, black eyes dancing like the foxfire lighting the room. “They want you. They’re frothing at the mouth for you, for me, for us. They hate the fact that Navidae has us both and won’t share.”
Sorin went rigid, slowly bringing his head up to scan the crowd of Drow carefully. Heat met him easily, unmasked, unfiltered, and when Khouri turned around to see where he was looking, their cheeks brushed.
“How’s it feel?” Khouri murmured, nuzzling Sorin’s cheek with a breathy sigh.
“How’s what feel?”
Khouri’s laugh was musical. “Being an enviable pet.”
Sorin turned his head to put his lips to Khouri’s pointed ear.
The nobles were watching, their greedy eyes raking up and down Khouri’s body in a way that sent fire straight through Sorin’s veins. “I’m not a pet,” he said, gripping Khouri tightly, wishing he could hide him away from the vultures hovering in every direction. “I’m definitely not something to be envied.”
Humming, Khouri leaned into Sorin’s touch, nuzzling him like a cat. “You get to touch me, so I think they’ll envy you regardless,” he joked, resting his head on Sorin’s shoulder. “This is normal. It happens every gala we attend. You should have seen the first one I went to with Navi.”
“What, did they stare at you like this?”
Khouri snickered. “I’ve never told you about Lord Jinkan, have I?” he mused, his voice taking on a flat quality. “You probably weren’t even born then. When all of that happened.”
Sorin raised a brow and Khouri grimaced. “Hold on,” he said, lifting up a hand to summon one of the servants milling about with trays of booze and food. “If I’m going to talk about Jinkan, I’m going to need a drink. Or ten.”
It was Nvidia who appeared, plate in hand. The dour Drow held out the assortment of delicate-looking champagne flutes and wine glasses and carefully hid any reaction she might have had to Khouri filling his hands, passing them to Sorin to hold, and then taking two more.
“You can go,” Khouri said dismissively, turning his attention back to Sorin. “This is probably enough.”
Sorin glanced down at the glasses he held, quirking a brow as Khouri began downing the ones in his hands. “Probably?” he muttered, eyes widening when Khouri drained the first glass and set it on the ground, starting in on the second without a moment’s hesitation.
Trickles of blood-red wine escaped the edges as he drank, dripping down his chin in a way that highlighted the long, graceful line of his neck. Sorin swallowed, his mouth dry. His grip tightened on the crystal in his hands, and for want of something to do he began to sip at the wine.
Huh. It was good. For wine, that was.
Khouri broke away from his second glass and gasped for breath, wiping his mouth clean with his hand. His cheeks were flushed now and he swayed dangerously as he set down the other empty glass. Sorin sat up nervously, but Khouri managed to right himself after a moment. His dark eyes settled on Sorin. A smile split his full lips when he snatched the other glass from Sorin’s hand.
“I’ll let you have that one,” Khouri said slowly, taking this drink a little slower than the others. “‘S good, right?”
“It’s strong,” Sorin noticed, using his free hand to steady Khouri by the hip. “You going to be okay? Maybe you shouldn’t drink that one.”
Khouri gave him an unimpressed look and drew back his head, draining the rest of the wine in one pull as if to spite his words. Sorin let out an exasperated sigh, rolling his eyes as he did the same. He had a feeling he would need both hands free to deal with whatever it was going on with Khouri right now.
“And that’s,” Khouri began, dropping the glass to the floor with a tipsy sway, “how we drink down here.”
The glass shattered. No one seemed to hear it over the sound of everything else going on in the room. Sorin put his own glass on the ground and held tight to Khouri’s hips, mindful of how bad it could be if Khouri toppled off the chaise and into the mess he’d just made. “You are such a lush,” Sorin muttered, grunting a little when Khouri plopped down atop his chest, his smiling, wine-sweet breath rolling over Sorin’s lips like a tease. “You gonna tell me about Jinkan now?”
Khouri pouted prettily. “Hmm, what’s there to say?” His eyes were dazed, his pupils blown wide. “I hated him,” he said quietly, kissing Sorin gently, just moving his lips against Sorin’s lazily. “He hated Navi. He paid me to kill Navi. Navi wanted me instead.”
Sorin moved his hands, stroking up and down Khouri’s back. He could feel little bursts of warmth through the laces when his fingers brushed bare skin. “You don’t say,” Sorin deadpanned. It was hard to forget something like that when he could see the proof of Navidae’s claim layered along Khouri’s nape and shoulders. Everyone could see it, couldn’t they?
Khouri’s outfits were always designed like that. To be eye- catching, to show in no uncertain terms that Khouri was marked, that he was owned.
Sorin had to wonder if it always worked. He could feel eyes on them. They were looking more at Khouri now than him. If these people had their way he knew deep in his heart that it’d be hard to keep them from taking Khouri for their own.
But Khouri was talking again and Sorin needed to listen more than he needed to think about things like that.
“Mmm, yeah. Such a silly thing. Jinkan wanted me too,” Khouri purred, slipping his hand beneath the the low cut neckline of Sorin’s shirt. His fingers were warm. They played with his chest hair as he spoke, “He wanted me so bad. Him and his bodyguard. Wanted me almost as much as he wanted Navi dead.” It was getting hotter. Sorin had a sneaking suspicion it wasn’t the room’s fault. He let his hand dip lower, slowly traveling down the laces until he could palm Khouri’s ass. “Can’t imagine anyone not wanting you,” he murmured, leaning back to better enjoy the weight of the Drow against his chest.
Khouri’s smile was sharp against his clavicle. “Flatterer,” he whispered, trailing his lips against Sorin’s skin. His midnight eyes met Sorin’s, dazed and wanting in equal measure.
“What happened next?” Sorin forced himself to ask. He’d already laid back on the chaise; he knew if he let Khouri get distracted now they were bound to do something they’d regret in front of all of these nobles. But the way Khouri drew himself along Sorin’s body…. It was almost pornographic. It made it clear that Khouri at least wouldn’t regret anything they did.
That left Sorin to be the voice of reason in all of this. To think of reason when Khouri's bare thighs fit so perfectly in Sorin’s hands, soft and smooth and so very warm…
God, it had only been one glass of wine. How
was he already considering this?
“Navi took me,” the Drow said lowly, running his tongue along his violet lips to illustrate in just what context he meant. “I came to kill him and he took me instead. He made me his, and in return we paid back Jinkan for the gift he gave us both.”
“Paid him back?” Sorin barely registered the words he was saying, too entranced by whatever spell it was that Khouri was weaving with his soft parted lips and dark, bottomless eyes.
Khouri nodded lazily. He put his lips to Sorin’s ear. “Navi marked me in front of him. In front of all of these nobles so they would know who owned me. Made me lift up my gown and spread my legs as he buried his face in my lap,” he said, moaning at the memory. “And he bit me so hard. So hard, Sorin. I came in his mouth and he called me perfection.”
Sorin could see it behind his eyes as if he were there. “Bet Jinkan loved that,” he breathed, rolling Khouri against his him, chasing the teasing friction despite his common sense telling him to stop.
Khouri pulled back enough to meet his eyes, looking like sin and sex and everything Sorin knew he shouldn’t want. “You’ve no idea,” the Drow breathed, smiling a slow, lazy smile that made Sorin burn.
“I think… I think I have an idea, actually.” Sorin’s mouth went dry as slender hands buried themselves in the fabric of Khouri’s skirt, bunching it up and pushing it aside to reveal the thin undergarments he wore beneath. From behind, Sorin doubted anyone would know something was amiss. This was a show for Sorin’s eyes alone. Fuck. It quickly evaporated his short-lived embarrassment as easily as steam dissipating into the air. He fixed his hands to Khouri’s narrow hips, tugging at the thin satin desperately.
“We shouldn’t be doing this here,” Sorin breathed, unable to take his hands off Khouri’s soft, warm skin. “People will see.”
“What will they see?” Khouri laughed, low and melodic against Sorin’s ear. “They’ll see two forbidden temptations playing together. They’ll see us flaunting what we are, what we could be, and they won’t be able to do anything but look. Isn’t that fun, Sorin? Don’t you want to make them ache? It’s like a new game to play. Just for us.” Khouri was drunk. Drunk or well on his way there. “Is taunting them smart?” Sorin made himself ask. Given all that was happening, all of Navidae’s fears, it couldn’t be wise to fan the flames higher. He knew it but he still gripped harder, seeking all the places he knew would make Khouri moan.
“Does it matter”? Khouri whispered, sighing softly as Sorin spread him open beneath the thin cover of the skirt. “If someone wanted me they can just try and take me. Navi keeps me safe.
He won’t let them entertain the idea for long before...” A shiver tore down his spine when Sorin began to rub against his entrance with the pad of his finger. “Before he— Oh, Gods, Sorin, please.”
But Sorin eased off, a frown on his lips that he couldn’t seem to hide. Khouri whined and wriggled, blinking rapidly as he tried to get more of the pleasure he wanted so much. “What gives?” he complained, breathless and flushed. His glare held no weight like this. No weight at all.
“You shouldn’t invite that kind of thing,” Sorin said, looking over Khouri’s shoulder, avoiding his gaze. His stomach churned with guilt, unease, and the wine. What if this display was actively making it worse? People were staring, weren’t they?
And lusting after them. What if they refused to support Navidae simply for a chance to take what was being dangled in front of them?
Khouri frowned, settling his hands on Sorin’s chest to lift himself up a little. “What’s gotten into you?” he demanded, words slurred a little but his eyes perfectly clear. “You’re being weird. First Navi, now you. What’s going on?”
“I don’t want you to make things harder than they need to be,” Sorin said, searching the room for Navidae. He needed help with this. Khouri had never been the best at knowing when to let a sleeping dragon lie, and with him drunk, it was only going to cause problems.
Dark eyes blinked as Khouri gaped. His lovely face morphed into a scowl and he held up a hand, gesturing blindly at the crowd around them. “What things?” he asked.
Before Sorin could figure out what to say, Khouri began to move, stumbling and swaying as he tried to get up. “Where’s Navi?” he said under his breath, scanning the crowd. “I’m gonna ask him myself—”
“You can’t,” Sorin said, grabbing for Khouri’s wrist. It was an easy thing to unbalance him; one sharp tug had Khouri falling back onto his chest with a huff.
“And why not?”
“Because if he doesn’t get support right now, he’ll—” he snapped, too aware of the eyes watching them, the unintelligible voices that could be saying anything. He exhaled sharply and continued with a quieter voice. “He’ll suffer for it, Khouri. You can’t go to him right now.”
Khouri froze. He blinked owlishly before seeming to process the words. “He’ll what?” he breathed, eyes locked Sorin, his body as stiff as rock.
Sorin swallowed, cloyingly aware of the mistake he probably had just made. But… He had committed to it. He hadn’t agreed with Navidae’s way of going about this and… He sighed, holding tighter to Khouri’s hips. “You remember all those Houses he destroyed trying to find you? Turns out someone took issue with that.” This was so stupid. Politics were stupid, above ground and below it too.
“That’s…” Khouri rested his hands atop Sorin’s chest, staring at him with a panicked sort of expression that couldn’t mean anything good was coming. “That makes no sense, Sorin. He wouldn’t just… He couldn’t have been caught. And— And he wouldn’t hide something like that from me!”
He whipped around before Sorin could think of something to say, scanning the party and each cluster of nobles with an intensity that shook. “Why did he tell you?” he demanded, eyes narrowed sharply, lips curled back defensively once he caught sight of Navidae off to the side. “Sorin, what the fuck did he tell you to do?”
Sorin was going to regret this. He was going to regret it horribly. He closed his eyes, sighing. “He isn’t sure if he can get out of trouble. He wanted me to take you to the surface if things go belly up,” he said carefully, forcing himself to meet Khouri’s eyes. “He... wanted me to make you leave him here.”
Sorin only had a moment to see how Khouri took that before Khouri ripped himself out of his lap and ran for Navidae, too fast to stop and too angry to let him try. The broken glass littering the floor didn’t slow Khouri down at all— Open-toed sandals weren’t much protection at the best of times, and the thin soles made way for the glass like a warm knife through butter. Blood painted a trail towards Navidae. Sorin threw himself from the chaise and took off after him, the nobility in his way be damned.
Khouri was fast. Sorin had always known it, and he cursed that fact when he saw Khouri reach Navidae first. The Lord was with a woman now, some seductress in a skin-tight gown and a jeweled snake necklace. Sorin shouldered his way past a man, ignoring the startled yelp and spilled wine, the words that followed after him no doubt a curse he couldn’t understand.
Navidae looked past the woman’s shoulder, eyes widening once he caught sight of Khouri.
“Is everything alright—?” Sorin read from his lips. Then Khouri reached him.
The sound of skin striking skin resounded atop the dull chatter like a crack of thunder. Sorin held his breath as Khouri closed his raised hand into a fist, looking for all the world like he might try to punch Navidae next.
“You lied to me!” Khouri cried, all eyes turning towards him. Navidae was stunned, breathing hard, head still cocked from the force of the blow. The woman at his side hide her shock behind her wine glass, inching away slowly as if Khouri were a wild animal ready to lunge. The comparison wasn’t a hard one to make; Sorin broke through the last bunch of people just as Khouri tried to swing again.
Quicker than lightning Navidae shook off his surprise. He caught Khouri by the wrist, staring into his eyes desperately. Khouri struggled and yanked but his free
hand was easily caught next, leaving him with no way to fight. Navidae met Sorin’s eyes over Khouri’s head, licking at his lips nervously. Everyone was watching. All eyes were locked on him.
Navidae threw on a smile, laughing a tight, fake laugh. “Someone wants to be punished,” he said, voice dark and threatening. He looked at the woman he’d been talking to, giving her a regretful smile. “I’ll finish our conversation later, Lady Netherin. If you don’t mind.” Sorin was quick to follow when Navidae dragged Khouri away from sight, practically carrying him behind the nearest pillar for some semblance of privacy in a room filled with people who wanted the exact opposite. He backed Khouri against the nearest wall, gritting his teeth when Khouri struggled violently.
“Khouri, I need you to calm down,” he tried, but Sorin knew without needing to see that it wasn’t going to work. “What happened?” His eyes skimmed Khouri’s body, his face paling when he saw the blood around Khouri’s feet. “Pet, what… why are you bleeding?”
“He stepped on glass—” Sorin tried to say.
“You lied to me!” Khouri interrupted, thrashing so hard that Navidae had to pin him to the wall to keep him from breaking free. “You fucking lied to me, and now you want Sorin to kidnap me again? What the fuck is wrong with you, Navidae?! You can’t do shit like this! Not again!”
Navidae’s mouth closed with an audible click, and he turned his head slowly to look at Sorin. “Why the fuck did you tell him?” he demanded. Khouri just lifted a leg and kicked wildly, struggling to hit Navidae somewhere painful. It succeeding in taking back Navidae’s attention.
“Why didn’t you?” Khouri snarled.
“Inden’s fucking Eyes, I don’t have time to deal with this right now,” Navidae muttered, struggling to keep Khouri from hurting him or himself. “Khouri, you’re drunk. You need to calm down. I’m only doing what’s best—”
“Shut up!” Khouri went lax. His voice broke halfway through. “Just. Shut up. Stop saying that. It’s not true; you’re just being awful.”