His Master's Wishes

Part Three

Sleeping next to Antonio for the week before he left felt surreal and slightly melancholic. This, along with many other things was what he would miss. Not even the fact of him just not being next to him, it was the things he loved about him most. His eyes were an amazing green, resembling the finest of trees in the garden. His hair was soft, and he could smoothly run his hands through it for days on end. Tanned skin, touched by the rays of the Spanish sun, was the color of the arms that held him close when he was worried or upset. His precious tomato garden was always tended for, and he saved the best for him. Lovino's arm was supporting his head along with the fluffy pillow, and the other was rubbing Antonio's back and hip, which made him melt on the inside. Antonio was holding him tight, running his hand through already messed up hair. When he traveled south, he was always slapped in the hand. Legs were tangled up together, and they had both not gotten a healthy amount of sleep. Lovino got up whining and complaining about the light being too bright streaming through the thin curtains.

Well, he wasn't complaining last night, but that was a different story. They were both still exhausted and not ready to get up.

"You don't have to leave," he said as he buried himself more under the covers and situated himself more into his royal lover. The purple silk comforter was heavy on him and gave him the warmth he desired. When Antonio left, he feared the warmth not only in his body; but in his heart; would slowly fade out. He had duties too and planned on fulfilling them for his Nonno.

"I do Lovi, and you know this. We've been over this." His voice was groggy, and extremely sexy when he was tired.

"I know." The arms around him only tightened, as he tried to ignore the sun coming up on the day he was to depart for the English front. Afonso would be on his way, stocking up on extra soldiers after the king and Antonio had left. The attack plan was laid out, and it was a good enough one that hopefully all would go well and there wouldn't be very many casualties.

At times, Lovino felt selfish. The other men going to the frontier had families too, even children. He didn't, and at times running a country (or half of one) wasn't as taxing as being a parent. I mean, these men supported their families the most. He'd seen whole families be kicked on the streets during wars.

"You're smart, I know you knew. Te Amo. Always. When I'm away, I'll send letters to you. Anything to make you less worried about me."

"Either way I'll be worried about you. Ti amo troppo but this war is petty and the English need to shove their powdered wigs up their-"

"Good morning Your Majesty's!" A woman barged into the room, pulling the curtains wide open and letting the morning sun seep in. Like a witch, he felt like he was burning. I mean, the sun and the fact he was sleeping in the bed with the prince. His eyes and cheeks were being tortured in different ways. The maid paid no mind and went about tidying up the room. With a laugh, she picked up their trousers and put them in her basket of dirty clothes. They were left with nothing to put back on when they got out of bed and each other's embraces.

"Girl, please fetch Lovi and I some clothes to put on when we get out of bed. Also, get the tub filled up with water and some nice smelling bath salts. We're going to take a bath," he groaned as he rubbed his eyes and yawned. As he sat up, he stretched and heard a satisfactory crack in his neck as he rolled it. There were maids carrying buckets of hot water to the large bath, and pouring in exotic fragrances for the two. When they were finished, the two men swung their legs to the respective sides of their bed. Lovino struggled to stand, as a jolt of pain traveled up and down his backside. From his ankles to his neck, he could feel it. And it hurt like hell. Antonio saw the struggle and made his way to the other side of the bed.

"Mi tomate, would you like some help with that?"

"No," he refused. He wasn't going to be babied when he could handle himself. The cold seeped into him from leaving the blanket, and he tried to get up. Again, he fell to the bed.