#okay i put out the inhibriation meme a few days ago but fuck it

[childoftheblacksands]

Easy Days

The smoke hung heavy in the folds of the hanging silks, filling the canopy of the bed with a slowly rolling and swirling micro-atmosphere. It reminded him of how the clouds would descend over the desert at night to turn into fog, leaving little droplets of dew for the few creatures resilient enough to call his lands their home. His mind drifted to those little skittering creatures-- their small faces pressed into those dew drops as they lapped them up, perfectly content, perfectly unaware of deeper mysteries, unconcerned of meaning...

His thoughts were interrupted when the rolling clouds were disturbed by a long and swirling serpentine body, dicing in and out and around the puffs of smoke with glee and giggling to itself. He chuckled without even realizing it. Xerxes was so precious. The little eel swam through the air in lazy circles as he seemingly attempted to round up the smoke into a single cloud-- something which did not work at all. But he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he looked quite proud of himself, curling backwards with fins splayed once the smoke was completely cleared.

Mozenrath smiled fondly. He held out his arm, hookah stem still pinched between his fingers, and cooed at the eel. A trill left the creature as he turned to look at Mozenrath. Then, he swam down with a happy flick of his tail. He nestled against the man’s chest as he pet over the creature’s smooth, scaly hide.

Xerxes nuzzled the other for some time, then tentatively lifted his head, a look of reserved hop in his mismatched eyes. “Master... happy? Master feel good?”

Mozenrath’s vision was hazy. He stared at the top of the canopy bed, and took another long drag from the pipe as he laid on his back. He held the breath, then slowly let it out, creating a new billow of smoke. “I think so...”

Xerxes wiggled happily. “Xerxes tell servants make Master’s favorite? Xerxes ask make baklava--”

Mozenrath’s hand came down gently on the creature’s spine, pinning him-- albeit with the very minimal weight of his bony hand-- to his chest. “In... in a bit...” he said, words slow and slurred. His forefinger and thumb searched about Xerxes, pinching on either side of his spine, and beginning to slowly rub his fingers in circles up the spine. Xerxes had no objections, melting against Mozenrath’s chest as they both lay in the low-hanging bed of smoke, content and for once... safe.