Kalai felt Tauran’s eyes track his movements as he shifted to sit between his legs. Gently, Kalai slotted both hands under Tauran’s left leg and positioned it so it rested over his own thigh. Kalai realized just how suggestive this position was, but he pushed the thought aside. Carefully, he wrapped both hands around Tauran’s upper thigh. Even without applying pressure, he felt how tight the muscle was, practically trembling under his palms like a cramp.
Kalai dragged his hands along the muscle slowly, not pressing too hard, but coaxing it to relax, to warm up beneath his touch. When he felt it give a little, he rubbed in circular motions, working his way from the top and all the way down to the knee.
Everything was quiet, except for Tauran’s breaths, no longer as frantic. His eyes were closed, lips slightly parted.
Inch by inch, Tauran relaxed beneath him.
Kalai was careful around the scar at first, but when Tauran didn’t seem to mind, Kalai massaged there, too. He pressed his thumbs in circles around his knee, then kneaded the calf. The scar was surprisingly tight in places, and Kalai spent a little more time there, until those muscles yielded to him, too.
Kalai had no idea how long he’d been at it, but he didn’t stop until both his hands ached. He stroked all the way up Tauran’s leg to the edge of his underwear, a slightly selfish touch. The entire time, Tauran had been completely still. When Kalai finally withdrew, he opened his eyes.
Tauran blinked slowly, turning his head to halfway hide a yawn against the pillow. “Did I fall asleep?” he asked. The tension was gone from his face, cheeks faintly flushed.
Kalai smiled. “I don’t know, did you?”
Tauran rubbed his own thigh. “By the skies.”
“What’s the pain like?” Kalai grabbed the remaining hand towel and wiped his hands dry of the oil. He had used almost the entire bottle, the sweet scent of springweave blossoms hanging in the air.
“Barely there, now. That’s...” He shifted his leg, flexing the ankle ever so lightly as if afraid to trigger pain, but he showed no signs of discomfort. “Incredible.” He pushed up to sit, delightfully bed-ruffled and cupped Kalai’s face, the look in his eyes so intense Kalai almost feared he’d melt right then and there.
Kalai would never forget the raw honesty in Tauran’s voice when he said, “Skies, I’m in love with you.”
Kalai cupped Tauran’s neck and pulled him into a kiss. He didn’t know when he had stopped worrying about a broken heart and when he decided to place his own so confidently in Tauran’s hands, but he couldn’t find it in himself to regret the decision. He had never flown before, but he was certain it felt like this.
The kiss was slow and tender, Tauran’s jaw lax and his lips soft as silk, and Kalai felt absurdly pleased that he was the one who had made Tauran so loose-limbed and boneless.
Before they’d even parted all the way, Tauran leaned back on the bed and pulled Kalai with him.
Kalai slotted himself against Tauran’s side.
“Oh, I wish I wasn’t so exhausted right now,” Tauran said, a hint of mischievousness in his tone.
Kalai chuckled. “I’ll still be here tomorrow,” he said, because he wanted him to stay. “You know, there’s a walking stick downstairs. It isn’t mine, you’re welcome to take it.”
“No!” Tauran said, a sharpness to his voice. He cleared his throat. “No thanks, I... I’m good.”
Silence stretched on, and Kalai allowed it to, letting them both bask in it. Tauran pressed his lips to Kalai’s forehead.
“I spoke to Albinus, the saddle maker,” Tauran said, after a long pause.
“What did he say?” Kalai kept his voice low. The moment seemed to require it.
“He’s a rebel, Kalai. Has been for skies know how long.” He rubbed his forehead. “I don’t understand it. The rebels were monsters. Andreus killed my dragon, killed Emilian’s dragon. Seven dragons and a hundred people died that day, and I didn’t see a shred of remorse in Albinus’ eyes, Kalai. Not a shred!”
Tauran tensed and Kalai stroked his chest, coaxing the softness back into his muscles. Tauran breathed deeply. “They’ll kill him for what he has done.”
“If you ever want to talk about what happened,” Kalai started.
Tauran spoke before he could finish. “I don’t want any pity.”
“Then I won’t give you any,” Kalai said, easily. He propped himself up on one elbow. “I’ll just listen, if that’s what you want.”
Tauran met his eyes, something like surprise or realization flickering in