ever since darius was a little boy, his father had sat him down on his bed before sleep, the young prince's head on his father's lap while the other told him about the legacy he'd been sure rested within the rider-in-training. every single day, darius heard the great, fantastical stories of the dragonriders before him — all the while his own egg refused to acknowledge his mere existence. he care for his egg greatly, carried it with him wherever he went, kept it warm & cozy, spoke to it & all but drowned it in love & yet it bore no fruit. nothing. not even a twitch. years passed & the young prince had almost lost hope, knowing that while his father may not have said it, but to find his son unworthy of a dragon's trust ... surely didn't speak for darius as the future king of an empire.
he wouldn't have been the first crown prince who skipped the bloodline's gift, but — he'd surely have been the most disappointed & embarrassed, guilty of embarrassing his father for his oldest son failed before he was even ten years old. but even though his egg didn't hatch, darius never once surrendered. he trained, he studied, he chased his father through the castle, attending meetings & hearings, inhaling as much as he could to help him grow up a good future king. the best, if able. he'd sure done the best he could. he built a name for himself, a life, a reputation. he was proud of who he was, even though his life was but a farce. he'd like to think he wasn't some carbon copy of his father - not at all, but held himself the same way. proud, upright - shoulders squared & heart locked away. for ...safekeeping.
he'd long since had his heart claimed, stolen by the young varlinnis prince & truth be told, ever since ryker carved his name into the lid of the trunk he held it in, darius had lived a lie. every single day. but sometimes fate was just cruel & they were nothing but its pawns. life was unfair. but he'd been born into this, had ... well, been raised into this life, there was no escaping it. nobody could know how unhappy he truly was. nobody did, not even ryker. darius held it back, just like he'd been taught to. smile, not too wide — a king doesn't grin. know, even if you don't feel like it, you're the superior presence in every room. speak, even if you'd rather remain silent, to prove you've mastered the lessons of life & studied the written word fiercely. fight, even if you've got the upper hand, to the death.
but underneath it all, the proud, talented, gifted, clever & resourceful crown prince & future king of vissai ....was tired. ryker saw him for who he was — truly & aside from their playful banter, he embraced the softer side darius was so afraid of presenting to the outside world with open arms & a warm smile. the warm, comforting presence darius needed to let go of the mask he perfected over the years. when it was just them, it felt right. he felt oh so much lighter. like the fates had entwined their threads upon birth, forged them both in the same fire & their hearts were carved from the same stone. darius enjoyed a strong hand in his mouth, ryker enjoyed the unwavering devotion the crown prince was all too eager to bestow upon the young prince. two opposite sides of the same coin.
darius could easily lose himself in the delicate press of ryker's fingers, tracing, kissing, savoring each inch that had been so graciously offered to him. yet, he understood the desire for a change & he welcomed it. his arms wrapped around the prince, fingers tightening around strong limbs, his nails lightly grazing down ryker’s bicep. but above all, darius clung to him, lips parted, offering himself with a quiet, willing surrender. ryker’s tongue, inquisitive & gentle, found its way to his, and they moved together in an eager, joyful rhythm. the moment, though fleeting, was no less powerful & even as it ended too soon for either of them to be fully satisfied, darius knew the young prince would never disappoint.
dusky mahogany eyes, wide with longing, met bright blue & for a moment, darius feared ryker might pull away for good when he did so briefly. but a familiar calm spread through him when ryker didn't. his mouth, still slightly parted from before, panted in rhythm with the younger prince's breath & he welcomed the return of ryker's fingers, now slipping deeper into his mouth. suction no longer gentle, but urgent, almost demanding. his head tilted to the side, exposing his neck, vulnerable & waiting for the prince's lips. a soft keen slipped from his throat as his chest arched upward, pressing against ryker's weight. though their armors separated them, keeping them from truly feeling each other, it didn't matter. the connection, the closeness, was enough. for now.
come now princess, spread your legs like a good girl. for me.
a subtle shiver ran through darius at those words. ryker’s voice, quiet yet laced with promise, sent a moan escaping him, muffled around the fingers that filled his mouth. for a brief moment, there was a pause in the prince's movements, his skilled tongue momentarily stilled in its worship. darius' legs instinctively shifted, his other leg rising to form a soft, upward triangle, both legs gently angling outward, opening a path for ryker to settle between them if he chose. regardless of his decision, darius had already made room for the youngest feinhalnaar, his hand leaving a trail of warm, wet heat in its wake. soft, breathless gasps & near-timid moans never ceased, even as ryker’s attention shifted. darius had spent too many nights alone with nothing but his own thoughts, too many stolen moments of yearning, not to savor the brief time they had. he wanted the younger prince to leave vissai with only one thought in mind: when can i come back to vissai?
there was no concealing the hunger in his gaze, the dark embers of desire flickering in his eyes as he watched ryker with a focus that never wavered. his brow furrowed in anticipation, following every movement the young prince made, always ready to meet his eyes when the young sorcerer surfaced for air or shifted to deepen the push of his fingers, a moan escaping darius in response. he arched into it, lifting his hips from the ground as if pulled by some invisible force. the presence of their guards barely registered in his mind; after all, they'd witnessed this before, some more often than others. it was what it was. his hands, eager & possessive, found their way to the prince’s silken locks, fingers curling into them as ryker’s mouth pressed against his neck.
it was his turn now—his chance to give back a little, to touch, to feel, to claim. "—ease." please. a soft, almost plaintive whine escaped him while ryker’s fingers lingered in his mouth, the wet trail of saliva slipping down his chin. still, he held most of it back, a subtle effort to keep himself composed. if ryker didn't wish for the sounds, he knew he could easily quiet them. but the weight of his touch, the closeness of the moment, made it all the more difficult to resist.
darius' thirst burned through him, a yearning that felt more urgent than anything he'd ever known. in this moment, he couldn't think of anything he needed more than this. here, there, anywhere—it didn't matter. if his father walked in, it wouldn’t have made a difference; his gaze, his entire focus, was consumed by ryker. his solare.
the world outside, the kingdom, all of it faded to nothingness. there was only them. darius could feel his pulse in his throat, his body alive with the heat of desire, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. every inch of him craved the young prince’s touch, the connection that burned between them, as though their souls were speaking a language all their own. for a moment, it was as though nothing else existed beyond the steady rhythm of their bodies, his hands tangled in ryker’s hair, pulling him closer, urging him deeper into the shared embrace. the ache was almost unbearable, consuming him whole.