SOLSTICE

050

The golden light of early morning filtered through the tall windows, casting warm shadows across the bed. Cyril stirred first, slowly blinking his eyes open to the weight of something soft and warm against his chest.

It was Theo.

Fast asleep, his breath calm, lips parted just slightly. His fluffy brown hair was a tousled mess, some strands falling across Cyril’s chest and tickling his skin. 

Cyril didn’t move for a long time. He lay there, his hand instinctively brushing through Theo’s hair, fingers threading gently, memorizing the texture. There was something deeply grounding about moments like these. Quiet. Tender. Something he had never really had for himself before.

Eventually, duty—or rather, habit—nudged at him.

He slipped out of bed carefully, pressing a kiss to Theo’s forehead before pulling on his running clothes. The corridors were quiet as he made his way outside for his morning run, his mind unusually preoccupied. 

By the time he returned, sweat dampened his shirt, breath steady. He opened the door to their chambers—and paused.

The bed was empty.

“Mm,” Cyril murmured to himself, running a hand through his hair, walking further in. A moment later, the bathroom door creaked open—and there he was.

“Good morning, My Lord,” Theo said with a small nod. “Your bath is ready.”

Cyril sighed. There it was again.

He approached him, towering just a little.

He knew it won’t be easy. It would take time.

Time for Theo to unlearn years of blind devotion, of the deep-seated instinct to submit without question. 

It would take patience.

Cyril stepped closer, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek. His thumb brushed the edge of Theo’s jaw, calloused fingertip tilting his chin.

“What am I going to do with you, hm?”

Theo blinked, a faint crease forming between his brows. “I—”

“Get undressed,” he ordered, voice smooth but firm. “And get in the bloody bath, Theo.”

Theo’s breath hitched.

Cyril’s eyes flicked over his face, then softened slightly—dangerously.

“I think I’ll prefer some company in my bathtub today.”

Fuck.

Even though he loved his Theo when he was so perfectly submissive, so ready to fall into his hands and follow every word, every order, without question—

Even though it stirred something dark and possessive in him every time Theo bowed his head or whispered Yes, my Lord with that sweet obedience—

This... this was different.

This thing between them now—whatever it was becoming—was new for both of them.

And Cyril knew, all too well, that it was his responsibility to tread carefully.

It hadn't been easy before either, back when it all first started during school years.
When he started getting intimate with Theo with the condition of no string attached, and Cyril found himself pressing Theo against stone walls, taking what was offered so easily.
Back then, it had been difficult—terrifying, almost—to make sure that Theo wasn't just giving in because he thought he had to. Because he was a loyal follower, a good soldier.