Homecoming - (Part 3 of the Ignaius-Saga)

Fighting

Once they were at their room, he tried to get out of his boots first, a habit obviously so deeply ingrained that no amount of ale could mess with it. It turned out that having servants at hand was a good idea, as Tanier struggled quite a bit with the complex task of undressing. Once it was finished and he was dressed in his pyjamas, he sent them out and retreated to a large couch.

After three cups of wine, Variel was quite tipsy. He could mostly walk a straight line and didn't have much difficulty undressing; he didn't even care that the servants were around. Perhaps the alcohol had been a good thing after all, as it made him less anxious and self- conscious. Once he was changed, he walked over to sit with the king, covering a yawn. "I am glad to see you enjoyed yourself, sire," he said as he leaned his head on the older man's shoulder.

Tanier started to caress Variel's hair. This was a clear contrast to his words: "You can't stay here. I'm drunk."

Variel had closed his eyes when Tanier began stroking his hair. However, he opened them and turned to look up at the man, the slight bewilderment visible in his eyes. "...Sire?" He was getting anxious now despite the alcohol. Even being tipsy didn't make the prospect of sleeping alone any more appealing. "Why... W-why do you want me to leave just because you've had a lot to drink?"

Perhaps it was innocence. Perhaps it was the wine. Or, perhaps it was a combination of both, but the implications of the king's words were lost on Variel. Instead, all sorts of other worrisome scenarios were playing in his head.

The king tried to think. He knew he had to send away Variel. It was the one thing he did know for sure. The rest was somehow fuzzy. "It ... is dangerous." He was still searching for words and meaning while he slowly got this out. "I ... I may do things... things I don't want to do."

All the time he kept caressing Variel. He just couldn't stop it, and this alarmed him, despite his drunken state.

Variel chewed on his lower lip, feeling his stomach start to knot up. "D-dangerous? Y-you mean... You think you might... hurt me?" How was that possible? The king was being so gentle and affectionate; would his being drunk make him...?

...Oh.

Variel wasn't sure how it had taken him so long to realize what Tanier was trying to tell him, and now he wasn't sure what to do? He bowed his head, staring down at his own lap. "I... I don't want to sleep alone, sire... Please don't send me away..." Right now, that prospect sounded much worse than whatever might happen here.

Tanier sighed. The boy was driving him mad - by refusing to leave, by being so close, by being adorably clueless and helpless.

"Fine..." he concluded. "Bed..." he suggested with an uncoordinated wink in the general direction. No point in refusing the comfort of a bed, if Variel was not willing to leave him. With a little luck he would fall asleep without anything bad happening. He pulled himself up and went to bed with a bit of an effort, but no major problems. He tried to stay on his side and allow Variel plenty of room.

But Variel wasn't really inclined to make this easy. Of course, he wasn't entirely aware of the full extent of the king's struggle. He just didn't want to keep his distance, and the alcohol was making him much less cautious. He followed Tanier to bed and crawled right over to him, snuggling up against the older man as he always did. After all, the last time he'd lain apart from the king while in his bed, he'd been told to come closer.

"Goodnight, sire..." he murmured, eyes shut as if preparing to go to sleep. "...I love you..."

Tanier felt like a drowning man grasping at straws. It was the 'I love you' that still held him back, but it was difficult to ignore the body that pressed against his. His fear that he would do something stupid was growing, but so was his confusion, what it actually was that he was afraid of. At some point he snapped. He put his arms around Variel, rolled him on his back and on top of him and kissed him, not affectionate or loving, but as hungry as he was. First he tasted wine, then he tasted Variel - and his own taste for more was growing.