Chaotic Curiosity

Straight to Community Service

The three men were struggling to carry the hooved devil, as he scraped his heels against the smooth quartz floor. The maidens held their agape mouths scared by the appearance of the scarred creature. One of the guards released their grip on the blue devil, causing the others to hold him even harder. A nearby servant boy was informed and quickly went out the backdoor to inform the king of the intruder.
When the king arrived, the guards released their grip with no resistance. King Evrart's hair was messily tied in a bun, his shirt was unbuttoned, and his trousers barely held onto his hips. He sighed upon hearing the news of trespassing on his grounds.
“Trespassing on royal grounds is a crime,” King Evrart began, sounding annoyed as he rubbed his eyes.
“Without an invite, you are not allowed to step a foot through the gates.” He dropped his hand and leaned against his throne, looking at the criminal.
“You will be punished..." His thoughts trailed off as he took a moment to understand who stood before him, "Lazarus?”
The guards shared a discreet glance as they were dismissed. They left Lazarus tied up in the middle of the audience hall.
Évrart walked down the steps of his throne and approached. He had to look up as he got close and examined him from head to toe. Although Lazarus had infernal blood, this was not the same hell spawn from before. He had changed in the two years. Évrart grinned at the sight of Lazarus' tail. It was tucked around his leg, spikes lined the bone.
“Everything you say will be used against you,” he said, making eye contact with Lazarus, his good eye flashed, “Your punishment, will be executed by me.”
Lazarus snickered, he could read the desperation that Évrart could not hide, “Then fuck off.”
“Well on that, your punishment will be increased. Don't push your luck, or I'll keep your head for more than just one night.”
"Do it, I got nothing better to do," Lazarus strolled to Évrart's side and bent forward to be at his eye level, "You were fun once."

The maidens were instructed to attend to Lazarus, and they dressed him in a familiar beige silk robe adorned with wine-red accents. The size was too short, and Lazarus had to hunch even more than usual to keep his decency. The room they were in looked to be the King's quarters - a spacious area dominated by a grand bed on a pedestal, encircled by arched windows that provided a breathtaking view of the Kingdom below. Two doors led to the front and the back, with the latter leading to a changing room and bathroom that Évrart had just emerged from. The bedsheets, unlike the usual red ones Évrart preferred, were blue.
Lazarus was seated at the edge of the bed as Évrart slumped down behind him. "The maids uncuffed you?" he observed, supporting his head with his hands. (I don't understand this posing)
"I don't think you have strong enough service otherwise," came Lazarus' reply with a hint of sassiness.
Évrart lifted himself slightly, gently pulling Lazarus by the shoulder to lie down. Looking down at Lazarus, Évrart noticed his eyes had lost their sparkle and aged. He frowned and asked, "When was the last time you felt truly happy?"
A choked-out laugh escaped his mouth, "What?" Lazarus asked genuine surprise painting his face. He thought about it and let out a hiss with a crooked smile, "Was I ever?"
For a moment, Évrart gazed at Lazarus' face and the scars that adorned it. Despite the painful memories they evoked, Évrart was not afraid to confront them, for the years had taught him to embrace the pain that came with them. It was only two years ago that Évrart thought to be too cowardly to oversee any war, yet he surprised everyone by leading the charge that defeated the Northern Kingdom. Although the continent was still far from being reunited, the main political war was over—
Unexpectedly, Lazarus leaned in to kiss Évrart, who did not pull back for the first time. The kiss was rough and threatening with its sharp fangs, but Évrart stayed in the moment, pulling Lazarus closer until he found the devil sitting on top of him. Lazarus broke off from the kiss first with a huff and asked, "Are you married?"
"Glad to see you still remember my morals. Yes, I am married to a beautiful Northern healer who helped me win the war," replied Évrart.
"And yet, you still sleep around?" questioned Lazarus while he tapped a nail on the headboard of the bed.
"Not usually, only with associates who have become criminals," Évrart replied calmly.
"Good." Lazarus grabbed his jaw, running a claw down his lip to the scruff of his chin.
Without skipping a beat Lazarus slid his hands down to the string of the robe. He dismissed the thin silk that wasn't doing much for anyone's imagination.