#spicey ameatbal

[ace-writes]

Mihail stepped into the room, uneasy, unfitting in such an elegant room. Draperies of silk and velvet hung from the walls and around two pillars at either side of the bed's end, sleek fabric tied back from one wide portion of the bed from which Arvid stepped out of.

His hair was braided back, loose and wispy from the rather clumsy hands of the god himself, yet his clothing was sheer and long, wrapped around in a complex-seeming fashion.

"You got my message," his voice was soft and relieved. "I wanted a chance to talk to you personally, not exactly as my champion, but.. perhaps a partner or companion? How strong is a bond if we are not at least attempting to be close, yes?"

Mihail's heart quickened and his jaw set, but he said little, giving a small nod in agreement as he looked over the fabrics Arvid donned. Silvers and whites, even lilac silk and lace peered under thicker fabric to show his status and greatness-- such colors were rare and expensive.. He only wished to touch those fabrics, feel the softness of them against his calloused hands and watch them slide from Arvid's shoulders, past his chest..

"These are very lovely, yes?" Arvid smiled, gesturing at the fabrics draped from his arms and shoulders to his toes, even tapping the wreath of silver branches and leaves in his hair.

"They're beautiful.." Mihail said it in a more breathy tone than intended, eyes unable to look from the pale skin of his collarbone on one side..

Arvid held his breath before stepping closer, "I also asked you to come by for... another reason." His pale skin flushed as he continued, "These tones you use when speaking privately with me, the looks I feel from you... Are they my imagination? For if they are, I apologize and nothing shall ever come from this again-- however, if they are true... Well, ah.. I would not be opposed..-"

His skin was red as he tried to chuckle out his admittance, unable to look Mihail in the eyes, afraid of Mihail causing an uproar if he were to not feel the same-- gods and their champions were meant only as companions, nothing romantic was allowed.. Other acts... those were allowed, if it appeared to improve productivity and bonds between the two in battles. Romance was, however, a web which complicated too much.

Mihail couldn't get the words off his tongue, his voice caught in his throat and he watched Arvid.. Perhaps actions spoke more than words. He reached out to hold some of the fabric at Arvid's waist, heavy and slippery in his fist. A few beats passed before he leaned closer, their foreheads close, "I am not worth the punishments you would receive if found loving me, if that is what you mean.."

Arvid turned redder despite his plain expression, "You underestimate your worth, dear Mihail.. You were chosen by a god, would have been chosen by another if I had not been so lucky!"

He nearly melted, his knees feeling weak for just a moment before he tilted his head, jutted his chin closer, "Please call me that again.."

"Mihail.." Arvid blinked slowly, mouth curling into a smile around such a breathy name.

Mihail kissed him deeply, both hands gripping the fabrics at his waist, held up at his back as if to dip him, "My name on your tongue is a blessing I could never give in return..."

Such a game was proving enjoyable for Arvid, though he knew hearing a rough voice groan his name would nearly stop his heart, "*Mihail..*"

—

Arvid's voice cracked and wavered in the morning, clearly rather... strained.

At first Mihail's reaction to such a voice was fear-- what if his god was ill or someone would notice? However, with kisses to spare and the light touches of silk on his skin-- both bedding and Arvid's clothing from last night --he found himself amused and rather proud.

"Did I, a mere human, strain someone so godly such as yourself?" Humor, but also a hint of flirtatiousness, for he brushed back the hair he had tangled and untangled to caress Arvid's tired smile.

"Oh, perhaps.. With what you have brought to the table since our first interaction, I've always wondered if you were a demi-god.. Such a bear of a man.." his voice grew rather gruff at that, fingertips reaching out to brush through his trimmed beard and feel for the scratches across his back, both ones of passion at his shoulderblades and permanent ones of violence.. "Mihail, my love, you are *beautiful...* Watching you move in battle tore at me, made me desire what I never desired before-- and here we are, vulnerable and close.. So, so close--"

More kisses, distracting Arvid entirely from his thoughts, only focused on Mihail's scratchy beard, his calloused hands, and his warmth.

Breathing got in the way of so much-- locked lips and legs, loving words against his skin... Though breathing better allowed him to express how he felt towards Arvid aesthetically; he watched Arvid's bony figure sit up, bundle silk and satin around him and across Mihail's shoulders, eagerly pulling close to push him back down.. And all Mihail could do when he watched Arvid, clothed or not, was hold his breath. He felt unworthy of breathing what touched Arvid, though he ached to be everything Arvid has touched and was touched by.