summon up the blood.

Happy (late) Birthday Clarus!!↪ @king-regis-of-lucis

        Clarus was working, as always, why should his birthday be any different? It was just one more day as time ticked on. He had things to do the world did not stop merely because it was the day he was born.

Moving into his office with a stack of papers Clarus glanced towards the box upon his desk. Well only a handful of people had the key to his office so it was a matter of striking off who would use it today.

It was obviously Regis, and the thought made Clarus smile as he moved across and set the papers down. Attention was turned to the box and Clarus made a mental note to thank Regis later as he examined the contents.

cor whistles, narrowly dodging the chunk of rock that breaks free upon impact of clarus’ punch.  all of his good sense tells him to leave right there and then to avoid being at the receiving end of clarus’ wrath, but his red-soled feet keep him planted as he stands - goddamn submissive streak.  since when has he become such a masochist?  his jaw tenses at the thought.  what would his subordinates say?  he sighs.  this isn’t about him.  it never is.

“do you want to talk about it?” cor offers, expression neutral as he leans against the pillar with his arms crossed.  he wonders what would dare possibly trouble clarus so.  is it his highness?  perhaps, his family.  cor can only imagine what it must be like to have to balance the two.  regardless, conversation isn’t particularly cor’s strong suit.

“or do you want to use me?”

cor doesn’t specifiy how he might be of service.  he is whatever regis and clarus need him to be.  does clarus want to bruise him?  his stony countenance betrays nothing of his own want, but his satisfaction is placed entirely in the hands of regis and clarus anyway.  

cor would not have it any other way.

           Clarus whirled around in a fury of thunder, anger writ into the lines of his face. He was raw, emotions like an exposed nerve and Cor had possibly stepped in at the worst time.

“What could you do?” Clarus spat, perhaps a bit harsher than he was intending. But he was too far gone in the moment. “How could you possibly help when even I-” His voice cracked, pain flashing across his face. He was angry at himself, angry at feeling so damned useless when Regis was suffering. How could a Shield protect from pain that he couldn't stand in front of? That was his duty was it not?

So what was he to do?

The anger simmered, burning a hole in his gut and leaving him hollow. What was he to do? He just had to watch the man he loved wither away to nothing for the sake of his people—for the sake of the world.

Clarus wanted to be selfish, damn the ring and damn the kingdom, but alas Clarus could never be so.

Happy Birthday Clarus!!↪ @grandschemed

           Clarus was surprised at the display, but then again he and Cor had known each other so long that of course Cor would know his birthday was even though Clarus never really mentioned it to anyone. It wasn’t that he disliked his birthday, no it was merely another day. He always worked, and in the evenings he’d spend it with Regis, taking solace in each other in their way. It was quiet, which is how Clarus liked it—never one to draw too much attention to himself. Perhaps it was because of the nature of his work.

“Cor..” Clarus said softly, setting the flowers down on the side after inhaling the sweet scent of the bouquet. He turned his attention to the box, unwrapping it with care and he quirked a smile at the sight of a new pair of gloves.

Clarus was always fond of his gloves, for many reasons ( including the teeth marks permanently worn into the leather of his index and middle finger from where he’d shoved his fingers into Cor’s wanting mouth) and he made a slow show of pulling off his gloves and setting them down beside the new ones. 

He slid them on with a low hum of contentment as they fit the lines and curves of his hands perfectly, the leather soft enough that it made a sound when he flexed his fingers a few times. Reaching out, he ran his fingers against the side of Cor’s jawline, dragging fingertips across Cor’s lips slowly.

Happy Birthday Clarus!! ↪  @pridevowed

         Clarus never normally did anything for his birthday, to him it was just another day that continued to tick along. He’d spend some time with the kids, often they had a family meal, last year Iris baked him a cake. But other than that Clarus wasn’t expecting any special treatment.

Roused from the grips of sleep Clarus was greeted with the scent of coffee and food and Titus. Nuzzling into the other man briefly Clarus placed a few lazy kisses against Titus’ jaw, voice still thick with sleep when he spoke.

“Mornin’..” Words were buried against the slope of Titus’ neck, Clarus pretty content to stay there until he was guided to the breakfast upon the nightstand.

A small smile lifted Clarus’ lips as he helped himself to the coffee and tried to ignore the jump in his heart when he saw the clock.

Titus must’ve taken care of things, sorted out a teacher for his lessons. When was the last time he’d had a lie in? Clarus was always up, always active and doing something. It was a surprising change and Clarus felt rather well rested.

“Titus..”

The cup was set down and Clarus turned his attention back to the man beside him, lacing their fingers together.

↪ @regaliities

      A low thrum of noise rumbles in Clarus’ chest as he leans into Regis’ hand. Regis was so close and it was always as intoxicating as the first time they had been so. Regis had this air of power around him, electrifying like the air before a mighty storm.

“Perhaps.” Clarus mused, his words barely a whisper. Lips ghosted across Regis’ own, and Clarus brought his hand up, a gloved thumb running across Regis’ lower lip. He let them stay like that for a moment merely breathing in tandem.

Regis smiled into the pillow. “S’okay,” he said, though he wasn’t entirely sure why Clarus would think it wasn’t. There was a reason—propriety or duty or something like that—but those ideas were sharp and still far away, and Regis didn’t feel like moving from his warm, gentle nest. It would be so easy to go back to sleep, to stay here and lose a day or week without having to face what was waiting for him out there. He didn’t want to let go and lose the protective fog curled around his brain that was keeping the bubbles of panic and anger from tearing into him again.

When Clarus spoke, his words vibrated through Regis, like a baseline pulsing though his ribs, and he could feel them like something tangible. He sighed and tried to squirm closer to Clarus.

“You could have said so sooner,” Regis said. A lazy grin slid in a crooked line across his face. “I don’t usually say no to blow jobs, as a rule.”

       Clarus suspected Regis hasn't meant it in the way he had taken it but it hurt none the less. Had Regis merely accepted Clarus' proposition because he was young and horny and Clarus had been there? Would anyone have done in this situation? Clarus swallowed thickly, burying a heavy breath between Regis' shoulder blades. He was overthinking thinks.

But it was hard not to, what did this mean to them? Was this the same to Regis as it was to him?

This was not the time to think of such things—overthinking could come later when they are both in the Regalia making small talk.

“I did not know if you desired me, in truth Regis.” this morning seemed like a good morning for truths they seemed to flow off Clarus' tongue and onto Regis' skin with ease.

Clarus nudged his legs forward, intending to tangle them together lazily. Close, closer, impossibly close that was what Clarus wanted, for the two of them to be so tangled they were not two souls but one.

Perhaps to Clarus they always had been.

Clarus’ weight shifted across the bed, moving until Regis was pressed against him, surrounded by him, warm and safe and still vaguely feeling more like viscous goop than a human. He let his arm fall off his face. He rested it across his chest next to Clarus’ and listened to his Shield’s heart beating slow and steady against his back and he closed his eyes.

In the quiet that followed Regis was only aware of hearts and lungs and their soft, rhythmical sounds, until Clarus broke through the stillness with an odd declaration: I’m sorry.

“Sorry?” Regis cracked open his eyes and furrowed his brows and craned his neck to glance over his shoulder. “Sorry for what?”

       “I guess I got a little carried away.” Clarus was still getting carried away with little chaste kisses pressed like a constellation of stars across the plane of Regis' shoulders. Clarus was warm and content and he had Regis pressed against him and he didn't even care that he'd got no release out of this.

Clarus took enough pleasure at being able to merely hold Regis and splay his hand against his chest and feel his heart beat against the flat of his palm.

It was strong and steady and reminded Clarus that Regis was here and breathing and oh so gloriously alive.

“I've..wanted to do that for a while and got caught up in the moment.” The confession now didn't fluster him as much whereas before he'd never been able to admit his desire for the prince. He was the Shield after all, such things as Regis were not for men like him. It felt different now things were more out in the open.

Reaching up to meet Regis' touch Clarus shifted up the bed laying beside his prince and draping an arm over him.

Clarus knew that this was too much, too intimate but he could not help it as he pulled Regis to his chest, burying his face against Regis. Clarus' senses were filled with him, from his scent to the feel of his body pressed up against him and gods did Clarus not want to give this up for anything. He'd fight Bahamut himself if he'd came down to ruin this.

Though he could not help the doubts that flooded his mind—was he too much? Did he do something wrong? Shoulders heaved with a soft sigh that was buried in the slope of Regis' shoulder.