#these are all older and trust me they just get spicier its ridiculous

[ace-writes]

Golden fingertips caressed Mihail’s skin, brushed across his lips, stained his beard with its gold dust. The coolness of silver was next, smeared across his cheekbones with the pad of his god's thumb, another line touching his bottom lip to his chin.

"There," Arvid sighed, eyes tired and mouth pursed in a line. He donned only silver smeared across his eyes and temples like a visor, the grey of his eyes fitting in well. "I never know if this will be the last time I see you."

Sorrow filled his words, ached in his chest even further when uttered aloud. Arvid's mouth trembled when his champion reached his hands out to hold his face, caress his skin, brush back his hair.

"I haven't yet, have I?" Mihail leaned in to kiss his god with care before freezing, shoulders quick to raise and head to lean away as if their kiss burned.

Arvid's mouth trembled, this time to refrain from laughing, "Do I have your war paint on my lips now?"

Mihail backed away, eyes downcast despite Arvid's lighthearted response, "A bit--!”

Arvid simply pressed close to hold his hands, stain his palms and fingers with silver and gold, comfortable with the slickness of the paint on his own mouth, “I don't mind at all-- I'll do anything for the mere touch of my dear champion..”

After savoring their kiss, breathing in the heat of his breath, touching foreheads with a beast of a man, he felt the high of their kiss settle. “...That paint is oddly bitter.”