8

Forgoing the need to travel on foot is indeed a welcome change of pace, Sol's only goal now being watching the scenery waltz by whilst he counts each field, in wait of their arrival at the King's fabled estate. Sol finds he quite likes the countryside, the rare herd of cows eating at the grass that they encounter from afar is an endearing sight, there is something rather cozy about it all—Sol is certain he will treasure this moment of quaint little peace as a fond memory in the years to come.

Yohan is seated beside Sol with the most perfect posture Sol has ever seen from a man riding a carriage, meanwhile the soldier from earlier on slouches on the velvet adorned seat opposite of them; he has his arms crossed, and he's giving Sol quite the intense, confused look. Sol wonders if he should speak up, eventually deciding to, for he begins to wonder if a spider has not crafted a web on his nose. "Is… something the matter?"

Sol asks the soldier.

It seems the soldier didn't expect to be questioned, or somehow believed he was being subtle, for he immediately perks up against his seat and clears his throat. "Nothing too important,"

the soldier shrugs. "I was mostly wondering if you'd borrowed that robe."

Sol blinks. "Pardon?"

"The patterns and the shape of it—it's a man's robe, ain't it? I rarely see women wearing them. Or, whenever they do, it's to honor a deceased husband."

He clicks his tongue. "But you still seem quite young, so I was curious."

It occurs to Sol that this man should mind his own business.

Sol brings a hand to his chest, atop the robe, above his heart. "It's mine,"

he tells the soldier. "I liked it, so I bought it for myself."

The soldier's attention turns to Yohan. "You've an interesting traveling companion, that's for sure."

He scoffs, and Sol's throat turns into a tight, anxious knot.

But Yohan merely raises an eyebrow at the soldier. "What are you trying to imply?"

"Nothing."

The soldier smiles in the most dishonest display Sol has ever seen, he presses his palms together. "I was merely stating facts."

Yohan grins back at him, all unassuming, and casual. "It has been quite some time since I've silenced a man with my blade. As a Rider close to his retirement, I do wonder if I would still be any good at it."

The soldier's face scrunches up into an ugly scowl. "Is that a threat, Yohan?"

"Not at all!"

Yohan meets his eyes and chuckles. "I am merely stating facts—to which, speaking of facts,"

Yohan wraps an arm around Sol's shoulder and pulls him close again. "Sol will be aiding His Majesty during His recovery. I suggest you show some respect."

Sol cannot help the smirk that pulls at his lips. "Indeed,"

he says as he stares at the soldier—he isn't quite sure what right Yohan has to make him feel so powerful for once in his meek little life, but Sol is certainly savoring it. He could get used to such power. Sol raises his brows at the soldier. It is petty, but he feels the need to say it anyway. "Another fact for you, Sir, since you seem so fond of them."

The soldier shrinks in on himself. As he holds his sides, he grumbles a rather annoyed, "Nevermind…"

The rest of the ride is peaceful, almost amusing even, Sol can scarce make sense of how quickly the situation was turned around; this has made him rather hopeful about his stay among royals.

Sol observes Yohan with adoration and admiration. Warmth rises to his face. Yohan wasn't lying. It seems he truly does have Sol's back.

They arrive at the royal estate later in the afternoon.

Sol is immediately led to the King's manor, right up into His Majesty's bedroom.

With Yohan at his side, Sol peers past the open door and greets the King with a modest bow and nod. He isn't sure what else to do, he's never been in front of royalty before, especially not a bedridden King. "Hello…Your Majesty?"

Sol gives the wood doorframe a shy, unassuming knock. "May we come in?"

"Y-Yes…"

The King's tone is frail, but, the fact that he can still speak at all is a hopeful sign. With a trembling hand, His Majesty points to a corner of the room where a wooden chair and table stand empty, ready to be used.

"Oh!"

Sol nods again upon understanding the request. "Of course, Your Majesty. R-Right away!"

He rushes over to the table then sets down his satchel across it, from which he softly pours out his belongings. Not a minute later—and to Sol's relief—a healer joins his side. It seems he will not have to do this alone. The two waste no time getting to work. Sol barely has a moment to bid his temporary farewells to Yohan as he collaborates with the healer, Celestina, he learns. They work until sundown.

"Gosh, this one's a tough one, isn't it?"

Celestina wipes the sweat away from her brow as she and Sol exit the room then make for the manor's veranda. Celestina pulls back her long, curly auburn hair. "Ain't used to dealing with ancient curses like those…"

She huffs, then presses two hands to her knees.

And, truly? Sol wonders—she seemed perfectly attuned to the work back there, to the point where Sol even found himself questioning if she'd been practicing the arts for longer than him and his mentor combined.

"But!"

Celestina glances up to Sol, "I think His Majesty will be all right, thanks to you."

The young healer smirks. "Those potions, their properties are really impressive. Still can't believe you made ‘em yourself!"

Sol hooks a hand around the back of his neck and lets out a bashful laugh. "I tried my best."

Something about this woman feels off, as if she isn't exactly whom she claims to be, but Sol gets caught up in her flattery and quickly forgets his concerns. For a court healer to be complimenting his skills like this… his confidence has definitely risen in the last minute, to say the least. "Y-You're quite gifted yourself."

Sol shows her a shy grin. "Thank you for your help today."

"The pleasure's all mine!"

The two of them make small talk for a short while longer, about the most complicated curses they've ever encountered, cures, and the best ingredients in the land—until they finally retire for their quarters, bidding each other farewell for the night.

"Phew,"

Sol shuts his eyes as he huffs, then dusts off his robe. "What a day…"

Sol is barely paying enough attention, when he runs into Yohan's chest. "Oh. Shit."

He blinks a few times before staring back up to the knight with glee, Sol rises, standing on his tiptoes to get a better look at his lover. "Yohan!"

Sol rubs his nose as he grins. "Hi."

Without wasting another moment, Yohan steps forward to kiss his forehead. "Greetings,"

he whispers, and Sol can feel the knight smiling against his skin; Yohan rests his hand on Sol's jaw. "I was ordered to lead you to your quarters,"

he tells Sol, "dinner should be waiting for you there, since you finished work quite late. Are you ready to leave?"

Sol glances over his shoulder at the empty hallways of the manor, that all glitter orange from the candlelight slowly burning out in the large chandeliers above head, like little distant starshine, he turns back to Yohan and nods. "I'm ready."

On the nearby wall, a rather worn family portrait hangs as if keeping watch over the room, the eyes of the people within seem oddly alive—as their glares follow Sol, the young apothecary makes a mental note to have a better glance at the piece later.

Sol and Yohan walk outside; the gardens glimmer with the dim sheen of fireflies. Yohan leads Sol by the hand towards a small cottage, not too far from the main house and manor. "The gardener recently left his post to care for his wife and their newborn daughter,"

Yohan tells Sol as they near. "His house has stood empty ever since—you're free to use it as you wish."

Yohan pauses before the cottage, his imposing height makes the cottage's entrance seem tiny in comparison; the knight opens a quaint wood door, whose ebony bark has been carved with patterns resembling flowers and vines. He nods Sol's way. "Make yourself at home, Sol."

There is a click as the door creaks, revealing the cottage's rather cozy interior. The walls have been painted an off-white shade. Clean empty pots, likely once used to make jam, stand on the kitchen counter. The bed is lined with gingham cloth, and pale curtains resembling pearl butterfly wings are draped across the windows. Sol immediately likes it here, more than he thought he would—even though he has only just stepped inside, the place already feels like home.

"So? What are your thoughts?"

Yohan asks as he pauses beside him. "If it is a tad too small, I could arrange for you to stay at another—"

"No!"

Sol blurts, before he shakes his head. "It's…"

He looks around his new twee, temporary comfort of an abode again, and lets out a joy-filled sigh. "It's perfect."

But a question remains unanswered in Sol's mind. "What about you?"

he asks Yohan as he turns towards his lover, his voice trails off, "will you be staying at…"

Before Sol has a chance at finishing his thought, Yohan shrugs. "I have my designated quarters back at the manor."

"O-Oh. I see."

Perhaps, it was foolish of Sol to assume they'd still be sleeping together, once they had arrived. Of course, they wouldn't—why would they have need for shared quarters, when there is much more than a mere tent to go around here?

"Disappointed?"

Sol glances upward. "H-Huh?"

He finds, that his knight is smiling now. "Me? I…"

Sol reaches for his elbow, then gives it a squeeze. He purses his lips together. "Well, maybe a little, if I'm being honest."

Yohan strides toward him then takes Sol's hands in his. The two face each other once more. "I am not beholden to my quarters, just so you know."

There is a brief moment in which neither of them say a word as Sol blinks a few times, he brings his attention to the floor, then back to Yohan. "Oh."

Sol can feel his face warm and, for lack of a better thing to do, he slips a strand of his hair behind his ear. "I—"

Sol reaches for Yohan's waist, he pulls the knight in closer. It feels a tad new and has him bashful to be saying this, considering they always had no choice but to share a bed until today. But… "I'd love it if you stayed, Yohan."

Yohan grins again as he stares down at Sol, he leans in to press their lips together, then nibbles on Sol's lower lip. The very act pulls a whimper, a stifled moan from Sol.

Sol shuts his eyes. He focuses on the cool feeling of Yohan's fingers caressing invisible paths down the back of his neck. He leans into the knight, his breaths growing heavier by the second.

Oh , Sol thinks to himself with his lips agape as he relishes in the moment, a prickle of warmth spreads through his shoulders, down his chest. I want him.

I want Yohan.

"Yohan, I want you."

Yohan's lips are on his again—but their kiss is chaste, short-lived, like winter devouring autumn. Until spring shows itself again in the knight's eyes, when he gazes into Sol, instilled with the flicker of a lustful yearning Sol can only but reciprocate.

Yohan grunts, the low sound reverberates against Sol's neck. "I want you, too,"

the knight whispers; and Sol fears that his lover will drive him mad with passion, because has never wanted as much as he wants Yohan tonight.

It is not long before they are kissing again, moaning into one another's mouth, with devotion that warms Sol to his deepest bones. "Sh-Should we shower first?"

Sol offers, panting, his voice soft, when they are forced to pull away to catch their breaths.

Yohan nods. "A good idea."

He laughs then pinches Sol's cheek. "It's been a while."

As he continues to hold onto Sol's hand, Yohan leads Sol into the bathroom. And Sol's eyes widen at the pleasant surprise that awaits them. It is lovely to see a shower with the option for hot water, for once, Sol does not get to use them often; in fact, the last time he can remember seeing one was during his studies.

Those dorms were all considered luxurious for good reason.

Just like the rest of the cottage the bathroom tiles across the walls, too, are adorned with pastel floral shapes. The entire choice of decoration leaves Sol feeling as though he is inside a large quilt, once he steps past the dark wooden door frame.

Yohan grips at the shower's faucets then turns on the water. He strips quickly without much hesitance nor seeming afterthought, before he steps underneath the lukewarm stream.

Sol gulps once, as he braces himself to do the same. It is truth that he had bared himself to the knight in the past… yet, it was never like this , under lamplight, in whole.

"Sol?"

Yohan calls from inside the shower. "My love? Are you all right?"

Sol grips tight at his robe. "I-I feel nervous."

"Should we slow—"

"No! It's fine."

Sol eyes the shower. "It's fine,"

he echoes. "I merely… need a moment."

He stares down to velvet cloth that had protected him from taking proper shape inside the world, like a second skin. He takes a deep breath, then peels it off.

Every second is a slow agony.

Sol's body tenses. He holds his breath. His eyes are shut as he rips himself away from the comfort of his own existence in the world. He knows it is futile to be afraid, and yet still, he worries Yohan may see him differently after this— even if not as Solange, as a mixture of Sol and Solange together, perhaps —he does not want Sol to disappear.

"Sol,"

Yohan repeats again, his voice a hushed comfort, that Sol only now realizes he'd needed to hear. "What do you need, my heart?"

"You…"

Sol brings a hand to his heart as he inhales another shy, sharp breath. "I need you."

All these years have led to this—have led him to Yohan.

He doesn't want to stop.

Not now.

Sol walks forward whilst looking at the ground, he keeps his jaw tilted downward to avoid the bathroom's mirror; no need to have his confidence broken now that he's found some.

He sees Yohan's legs first, and then, the knight's thighs, his cock. "Hi…"

Sol still can't bring himself to face him. But he takes the final step needed to enter the shower, then buries his face into the knight's chest.

Like always, Yohan imparts Sol with a gentle touch as he threads his fingers through Sol's hair, petting the back of his head—the act brings Sol a great solace. It is like nothing has changed. "Hey."

Yohan embraces him, until their bodies are pressed close together with nowhere to hide. "My love?"

"W-What?"

Perhaps, this is no big deal to Yohan, but Sol is being brave. He is being very brave, and resisting the urge to run away, to put his clothes back on and never face his own body again. And yet, at the same time, he wants to experience… this. The undeniably raw, intimacy of Yohan's skin pressed to his.

"You're trembling, Sol."

"I-I know."

Sol heaves in a breath. "I know…"

He bites into his lower lip. "I'm sorry. This is—"

He heaves in another breath. "This is more than I'm used to."

Yohan cups Sol's jaw with his palm. "You've nothing to apologize for."

Their eyes meet beneath the warmth of the water, the knight's gaze is pained. "Tell me, my heart, how may I lessen your burden?"

Sol gulps, and he feels the saliva trickle down his throat. "Guide me?"

he asks, his voice a whisper as he embraces Yohan in turn. "I trust you."

He runs his hands up the knight's spine. It is only because I trust you, he thinks , because you are my safety—that I am able to step into the fire of your gaze, Yohan.

Yohan takes Sol's fingers between the shelter of his palms and rests them gently on the wall. As the water drenches them, Sol glances up to Yohan through lidded eyes. He presses a kiss to the knight's lips. And his knight kisses back—Yohan sucks on Sol's lower lip, he pushes his tongue past Sol's teeth that open for him. And Sol moans, makes sounds he has never made in this lifetime as his back arches off the wall, Yohan is so warm. The steam from the shower has Sol's head spinning. Yohan is so warm. His fingers are now twined deeply with Sol's own. Yohan is so warm. He reminds Sol of the sun.

And Sol wants to fly.

They wash one another, with both their hands exploring each other's bodies. The shower mist smells like lavender and Yohan like pine; when Sol hugs him again, he feels the knight's hardening cock brush up against his thigh and jolts away slightly, at first, until he takes another breath; then thinks, Calm yourself, Sol.

Yohan would never.

He wouldn't—

Yohan pulls away. "Sorry."

He places a gentle hand atop Sol's arm, before he pauses. "Would you like to stop?"

Sol shakes his head. He stands on the tips of his toes and wraps his arms around Yohan's shoulders. And he focuses on the feel of their chests pressed together, their hearts beating like one, the adoration he feels for this man who has been nothing but reverent and kind to him throughout this entire journey. "I want us to make love, Yohan."

Sol hears a small gasp leave Yohan's lips, he pauses. "Do you?"

Yohan deepens their embrace. He cups Sol's chin between his palm and presses his lips to Sol's forehead—though he does not kiss, merely, he speaks against Sol's skin. His voice is shaking as he whispers the words, "Of course, I do."

As the shower drenches them in wet heat, Yohan washes the soap off Sol's back, and Sol wipes the tiny, iridescent suds away from the brave curve of the knight's shoulders.

They shut off the water soon after.

And Yohan lifts Sol into his arms. And Sol lets himself be lifted. As Yohan carries him to the bed, Sol's mind spins with arousal, mixed with brief glimpses of his visions from the past.

Sol remembers the promise he'd made to himself many moons ago, never to take this as far as they are about to take this tonight. And yet, Sol can resist the pull of him no longer.

Sol's elbows press into the bed's soft cotton linen. The room is dark. Candlelight in the hallway bleeds dark gold orange hues that flicker, cast over the edge of the bedroom with no walls where Sol glances up at Yohan, and runs a hand down the knight's left clavicle, atop a scar he had never noticed before. With parted lips, Sol asks him quietly, "Did it hurt?"

Yohan laughs and Sol finds the lines across his face endearing, they are a badge of honor, proof that he has survived to tell his tale. The knight smiles. "It was the first day I thought I would die for real."

Sol's index finger finds the knight's lips once more. "And yet, here you are."

Yohan's lips collide with his. There is a throaty grunt that escapes and rises from the knight's half-parted mouth—when Yohan kisses him it is like they are in that tent again from all those days ago, losing themselves to one another, the air full of electric passion that warms Sol's blood with starvation for his touch.

"Sol,"

Yohan's words are hushed as they fade into heat that warms Sol's lips. A certain sense of urgency lingers in his lover's tone, Sol can tell the knight does not hold as much patience as he most often does, he is pining that is clear. "I don't want to hurt you."

Sol stares up at his beloved through lidded eyes. "You won't."

With one hand lining Yohan's jaw, he feels the knight's pulse dance beneath his fingertips. Thump, thump, thump, thump. "You won't,"

Sol echoes again, and he believes it this time. "I know you won't."

Yohan tenses above him. His brows arch upward, ever so slightly; Sol wonders if he may cry. "Thank you,"

he holds Sol close to his chest again, "for trusting me."

Nobody has ever truly done so in my life— words Yohan needn't say linger between them like sea-fireflies hold to the shorelines at night. "My heart,"

Yohan rests his big, warm palm against Sol's back. "It doesn't have to be this way,"

he hushes Sol, who is still trembling despite helplessly aching for them to do this. "Why don't we slow down?"

"H-How?"

Yohan caresses the back of Sol's head as they embrace on the bed. "Here,"

he leads Sol until they are seated across the mattress again, their knees straddling each other's waists. Yohan strokes Sol's back and leaves a kiss against his shoulder. The two of them lean into each other's warmths—and, for a moment, they stay just like this.

Sol shuts his eyes, Yohan's touch is so pleasant, he could lose himself in it. And he does, when Yohan asks him, "Can I give you a massage?"

" Please… "

Sol sighs into him, and Yohan starts with his arms, his shoulders and his back, until he lays Sol down atop the bed again. The knight's hands find Sol's stomach, his hips and—although Sol holds his breaths when Yohan nears his thighs, the knight merely moves onto his knees as if nothing were amiss, and relief settles in Sol's heart. He knew Yohan wouldn't , still, seeing him respecting those boundaries now that they are here further cements that truth in his heart.

As Yohan moves down to Sol's legs, easing every little bit of tension from his calves, Sol sinks into the pleasant feeling of his lover's fingers rolling across his muscle. The knight cups Sol's ankle between his palms, then kisses the top of his foot. "You can close your eyes if you want to, Sol,"

he whispers. "It's okay."

And Sol does. He drifts off into a pleasant elsewhere, and focuses on the tenderness of Yohan's hands massaging the soles of his feet. "Yohan…"

Sol mumbles with his arms splayed across the bed, as he takes a deep, peaceful breath. "This is so nice…"

"Is it?"

He hears the smile in Yohan's voice when the knight sighs. "I'm glad."

After a few minutes have gone by, Yohan joins him atop the bed again, they lay there together in a comfortable silence. Yohan holds Sol, and rubs his back like before. And it is then that Sol realizes—he isn't trembling anymore.

Yohan was right. Making love didn't have to feel this way—it didn't have to be complicated, a fear Sol needed to face.

It could be simple.

Just like this.

Sol smiles.

Just like now.

"My dearest."

Yohan's mellow voice fills the silence once more, and Sol leans into him, into his chest as the knight kisses his forehead. "What now? If you are tired, we can sleep together—"

Sol presses his lips to Yohan with a grin. "I want to dream with you, awake in this bed, beloved."

"Oh?"

Yohan's chuckles, he peppers kisses along Sol's jaw. "Do tell me more,"

he growls, and Sol's breaths hitch. "In what ways shall I make you dream tonight?"

Sol runs his fingers through Yohan's hair, his gaze darkening with arousal as their eyes meet. "Take me,"

he tells the knight. "Take all of me."

For a moment, Yohan pauses. "Sol, are you certain?"

he asks. "There are other ways in which we could enjoy ourselves. I am…"

the knight gives his own crotch a brief stare, " bigger than my tongue. It may hurt, if I—"

"Then… use your fingers first,"

Sol mumbles as he averts his gaze then wraps his arms around the knight's neck. "I'm feeling… very good tonight. Yohan, I'd like to try if you're willing…"

Sol wonders if he could reclaim this part of his pleasure for himself—for it is true, he tires of it being ruined for him in this way, he wants to be able to enjoy every way of being intimate with his lover.

"Okay."

Yohan nods, then inches closer to Sol again. He nudges their noses together. "Okay,"

he echoes, "I can try."

Yohan kisses the tip of Sol's eyelash, a chuckle slips past his lips. And he starts to shift, and brings his hand lower to Sol's waist, when Sol shuts his eyes tight and freezes.

It is not long before Sol hears Yohan pause. "Sol?"

Sol blinks, then stares up to his knight—a look of worry is spread across Yohan's features as his brows arch upward.

"Yohan,"

Sol's starts as his lower lip quivers, helplessly, he reaches for his lover again then tugs at his arm. "Actually, I'm…"

There is an odd, anxious feeling growing inside him, now that he knows they are trying this for real. "I still want to, but I'm…a tad scared."

Yohan strokes his hair. "What can I do to make it better, my heart?" he asks.

And Sol's fingers tremble against Yohan's skin. "I— I don't know. I…"

he says. "I want to try this— truly I do —but I worry about how my body might react. And what I could feel, once we a-are…"

Sol's voice trails off.

For a moment, neither of them say a word, until Yohan brushes the hair from Sol's eyes. "I will always stop once you say the word, Sol."

Yohan kisses the wetness from the tear that has soaked Sol's eyelid as he thumbs at Sol's cheek. "I swear it on my life."

Loving fondness flashes through the knight's gaze, alongside a sudden hint of playfulness when he peers into Sol's eyes. "If you still wish to do this tonight, shall we try something?"

"Define, something."

Yohan smirks. "Stopping."

And Sol blinks again. "Oh. I…"

He did not expect that. "I suppose?"

That does, indeed, feel like it could be of help. Sol quite appreciates his lover's thoughtfulness. "Okay."

He reaches for Yohan's wrist. "Um, is it fine if I lead you? And also—"

Sol bites into his lower lip. "If it's okay… could you distract me?"

he blurts the words before he can truly think them through.

But… perhaps, that would not be such a bad idea.

His lover perks up. "Pardon?"

Yohan does not sound offended, merely, confused.

"I-I— I don't know?"

Sol clings to Yohan's neck as he looks away again, shy, his face warms with a bashful heat. "Maybe if we're kissing while you finger me, it won't feel too…startling."

Now, it is Yohan who is blushing as his eyes widen, before he smiles then tucks Sol's hair behind his ear. He leans in to kiss him, briefly, pulling away as he says, "I can certainly do that."

And soon, Sol is guiding his lover's hand downward.

He shivers as Yohan's warm palm slides down his belly until it is between his legs, but the softness of Yohan's lips soothes him, Sol swallows, hard. "Can you touch my c-cock?"

he asks Yohan, whilst looking him in the eyes—part of Sol still wants to flee, after being vulnerable before another, he is not quite sure how he manages to stay nor where he finds the courage to; it is possible Yohan's bravery has rubbed off on him in all sorts of ways.

After all— a smile takes Sol's lips —he has never been so much himself, until lately.

As Yohan rubs soft, tentative circles into Sol's warmth, he asks Sol, "Right here?"

Yohan is barely touching him, but everything feels ever so sensitive and Sol is biting down against a whimper. Yohan smiles. "My, you're so hard, dearest."

"Ah, Gods, "

Sol's fingers jerk against Yohan's shoulders, he breathes his lover's name into his mouth as they kiss again, " Y-Yohan. "

He doesn't want to say it.

He truly doesn't, because it feels so gods damned good.

But Sol knows he must, lest his mind go places he doesn't want it to, once they sink deeper into the throes of their passion. "Stop?"

he gasps, a word that is barely audible between his heavy pants, and yet, Yohan still hears him.

Yohan's hand is off him in less than a second. And Sol realizes how much attention the knight must have been paying to his every cue, something about this fact warms his heart, his face.

"Are you all right?"

the knight asks Sol as he continues to stroke Sol's hair in slow, gentle ways. "How was that, my heart?"

"I…"

Sol finds himself gulping. "I didn't actually want to stop,"

he admits; the words are pushed out of his lips like a rushed confession. "It felt so good, the way you were touching me…"

A relieved grin, and then, a sigh from the knight, "Did it, sweetling?"

Yohan hums as he kisses Sol's cheek. "Shall I touch you again, then?"

And Sol's eyes flutter shut. " Yes ,"

he inhales, whilst he rests his free hand against Yohan's forearm, then breathes the words out, " Touch me. "

Please.

I want you.

I want you so much.

Yohan slides his palm up, then down, across Sol's pussy. "You're doing so well, my love,"

he whispers as he kisses Sol—he barely pushes one digit past Sol's heat, before he massages him open in soft, gradual ways. " So , so well."

Sol's knees jerk as he feels the gentle burn, his eyes widen and he whines when Yohan moves. His thighs close in on themselves on instinct. His nails dig into Yohan's arm as the knight's tongue slips past his lips. It feels good , overwhelmingly so, but… "Y-Yohan— Stop."

Yohan's touch is gone before Sol can even blink.

"Sorry…"

Sol falls silent as he turns his head then looks up to Yohan.

"Don't be."

Yohan peers back down at him, his brows knitted tight in worry—it seems Yohan is searching for a sign of discomfort amid Sol's face, for he is making the same expression as whenever he'd feared Sol had gotten hurt during their travels. "That stop sounded a bit more serious than the first one."

"I… I know."

The burn of arousal still stirs in his groin, Sol truly truly doesn't want to stop—not yet. But it is difficult, to know how to carry on ; everything is so muddled in his mind; it is so complicated to be left wanting and yet afraid, he can barely make sense of it. Sol looks up again, to his lover, to Yohan. "I'm sorry."

"What for, sweetest?"

Yohan shows Sol a feeble grin. "You have done nothing wrong."

"Yohan, I—"

he whimpers, "I truly want you. I do, I swear—"

"And you have me."

His knight embraces him, closer, closest . "You have me, Sol,"

he whispers. "All of me. My body, my soul…"

Yohan runs his hands across Sol's back, then holds him tightly, tender near to his heart. "You'll always have me."

Somehow, Sol knows it is the truth.

"Sol?"

Yohan asks, after Sol has grown quiet for a minute, absent-minded as guilt eats at his heart. "You know, we do not have to do this tonight nor ever again, if it is unpleasant."

Sol, who grows dejected from hearing the words, glances to the mattress beneath them as the corners of his lips jerk downward. "I wanted to."

Sol shakes his head. "I still do."

He bites into his lower lip, and tries to hold the tears from forming around his eyelids. "I… You did so much for me—to make me comfortable—and I truly thought I was. And yet, I still c-can't…"

He heaves in a small, shaken breath. "I'm sorry. I feel so broken."

Yohan slips his arms around Sol's shoulders and holds him close to his chest, his heart. "You're not broken."

The knight sighs. "Far from it, Sol, you wouldn't be here today if you were."

He thumbs a tear away from Sol's cheek and leans in, to press a kiss to his forehead. "There is nothing wrong with having scars."

He deepens their embrace. "Sol, there is nothing wrong with you."

Yohan holds him for what feels like forever, and Sol listens to his lover's heartbeat without saying a word—outside, the grasshoppers sing, the moon is round and high in the sky, its ephemeral glow like daylight in the night time. "Thank you,"

Sol eventually tells him, "for saying that. I—"

Sol bites into his lower lip, he squeezes at Yohan's hand, now twined between his. "It's difficult, sometimes, to see it in any other light."

"I see."

As Yohan rubs circles into Sol's back, he nods against him. "I understand."

Sol turns to press his lips atop Yohan's heart. He shuts his eyes.

"I don't want to move."

The knight squeezes at his shoulder. "Then I won't go anywhere."

Sol smiles upon hearing the words. "Don't worry."

As they cuddle amid a comfortable silence for what must at least be a good hour, waning in and out of slumber at times, eventually Sol falls asleep.

* * *

When Sol wakes it is still nighttime. His beloved remains by his side, holding him like he has never left once. Yohan's hand is rested atop Sol's shoulder, where he leaves gentle caresses across his bared skin. The knight's breaths are heavy as he, too, rouses slowly.

Sol surprises himself when the safety of Yohan's arms finds him yearning again. "Yohan?"

he mumbles, after a long while.

Yohan caresses the top of his head. "Yes, my heart?"

"I want you…"

And Yohan falls silent for a minute, he tells Sol, "I am the same."

He rests a palm against Sol's shoulder. "I want you, too, my heart. But,"

he pauses again, "what if we merely kept to kisses, for now? Or…"

Sol hears him swallow. "I could pleasure your cock again…"

"Maybe."

Sol gives Yohan's forearm a squeeze as he considers it. "Yes, that sounds…"

Sol takes Yohan's hand, his gaze blurs damp with a blissful overwhelm as he urges Yohan between his legs again, atop his most sensitive parts, " Good, "

he hisses.

And Yohan chuckles. "Oh, I see. "

As he presses his lips to Sol's temple, he sighs. "I am most happy to please, then."

Sol hiccups a moan once Yohan circles his cock again, just like before. Despite his apprehensions, there is no odd feeling of wrongness attached to the act anymore— in fact, he finds, that he quite likes what is happening here. " More, "

he gasps, and gold-fire pools between Sol's thighs. " Please. "

His legs shake. He is clawing at the bedsheets, searching for an anchor, that he finds in Yohan. " Sol ,"

Yohan's voice reverberates hot against his neck. " Sol, "

Yohan kisses his skin. And Sol cannot recognize himself in the noises that leave his lips anymore. " Sol , my love."

Yohan holds him close as he climaxes—Sol cannot ever remember letting go like this, but he is gone in seconds, wholly lax from the bliss in Yohan's arms. His arms and body tremble, he tries to kiss Yohan, yet accidentally knocks their noses together. Sol does not know why nor how he is coming so hard. So much. Still, Yohan holds him through it all with soft, hushed whispers and the kindness of his mouth on Sol's lips. "I'm right here,"

Yohan mumbles against him. "It is okay, Sol. I have you."

And Sol thinks he will never tire of hearing his name against the man's lips.

Gods, he is feeling so much, has never felt this much—didn't even know it was possible, until tonight.

Yohan wipes the tears away from his eyes and presses a soft kiss to Sol's under eye, when Sol slowly comes down from his high, panting, his chest rising then falling like the tide, Yohan asks him, "Are you all right, my love?"

"I am, I— "

Sol gasps as he tries to pull Yohan closer to him, even though they could not be any closer even if they tried. He finds himself crying. "I need you,"

Sol's mouth shakes around the words. "I need you—"

His legs tremble around Yohan's waist. It feels as though he has taken his heart out of his own chest and willingly handed it to Yohan—and Yohan could do as he pleases with it—yet all he does, is hand it back to Sol.

As he asks, "Are you certain?"

And Sol nods into Yohan's shoulder. He has never been more certain of anything in his life. "I love you, Yohan."

I've never been more certain in my life.

He hears Yohan's breaths come to a halt: a single tear that does not belong to him slips then falls onto Sol's cheek.

Yohan inhales, deep, raw—his breaths are hot puffs on Sol's collarbones. "Oh, Sol, "

the knight whispers the words, a kiss into Sol's skin. "Me too."

Yohan wraps his arms around Sol's spine, as if he were a tree taking root around the earth. He sniffles. "I love you, too."

Sol takes his hand and kisses the back of the knight's knuckles; for a moment they merely look at each other in awe, as if they are both precious and rare to one another— they are —Yohan laughs.

Sol does, too. He takes, then leads Yohan's hand downward, between his legs once more. "Your fingers,"

he tells the knight, his voice soft, trying. "Could you—"

Sol gulps. "Try it like before?"

"My love?"

Yohan pushes into him. He presses his lips to Sol's, kisses Sol in slow, sensual ways. "Like this?" he asks.

And Sol's eyes flutter shut. " Oh— "

This time, Sol does not ask him to stop. His mind feels as though it is cotton, soft and gentle, and right. He sinks deeper into the pleasure, barely has space for anything in his mind but Yohan.

Yohan.

"Y-Yohan…"

"I'm here,"

Yohan whispers as he moves inside him and coddles Sol near to his heart like before, his lips brush against Sol's forehead. "I have you."

Sol hiccups a moan as he trembles against Yohan, he has never let go like this before, and yet with Yohan by his side, he feels as though he could do anything. He hugs Yohan tighter, whimpers, and exhales. "F-Feels good—"

Sol sighs the words into Yohan's mouth. He feels the man smile against his own lips.

"Can I put another inside?"

Yohan asks Sol, as he observes him with his face flushed, too.

Sol nods. He blinks twice before he averts his gaze. "Please…"

His skin burns with the prickling anticipation of Yohan's touch. As Yohan presses his fingers to Sol's entrance, he slowly pushes, until he is inside him again—and Sol heaves out a breath, it is true that this is bigger than what he is used to, but it feels good and Sol cannot get enough. Especially when the knight brushes up against a rather lovely spot inside him that finds Sol panting, moaning in an uncontrollable manner, as Yohan hooks his fingers slightly upward then rubs Sol in circles. Sol tenses around his lover's hand, his world goes bright with pleasure and rapture finds him undone. He whimpers, trembling against Yohan. " O-Oh, that's— "

Yohan holds him through his littlest death and kisses him, soft and tender, all across his chest and body and all Sol thinks is that he would not mind staying in this moment forever, for never has he known such divine pleasure. "Yohan— oh —Gods, Yohan—"

Sol gasps whilst he tries to catch his quivering breaths, he digs his fingers into the knight's back. And Yohan kisses him until Sol's lips are numb with his knight's sweet, effervescent warmth. "Yohan."

Sol wraps his arms around Yohan's neck. "I love you so much."

Yohan presses his mouth to Sol's forehead. "I love you, too, my heart."

His lips find Sol's eyelashes, then, the tip of Sol's nose. He kisses Sol's cheek, and the rest of his face, too. Until Sol is giggling, doing the same.

When they have both peppered each other in more kisses than they can count, Yohan's fingers leave Sol. "Sol, my love,"

he whispers as he pulls Sol in, closer to his chest. "My heart."

Sol can feel his knight's pulse thump across his own rib cage again; it accelerates once Yohan speaks again. "Sol,"

he breathes, "do you want more?"

Though Sol still remains a tad nervous at the prospect of untangling this new unknown, tonight, there is nothing else he could want more than to lose himself in Yohan and have Yohan be lost in him. He reaches for Yohan's jaw and his face is flushed with the red of passion as he shows his knight a weak, tender smile. "Take me, Yohan,"

he says whilst he kisses the knight's lips once more. " Please, I want you. I yearn to feel you, all of you."

Yohan's fingers stroke Sol's cheek softly. He shifts between Sol's legs, the tip of his cock is warm as he nudges Sol's entrance. Sol's breaths hitch, but Yohan coos him and strokes the back of his hair, the knight rests his hand atop the base of Sol's nape. "Breathe,"

he whispers. "Let go, my heart."

And Sol does. He relishes in the way Yohan moves his hips and eases himself inside the tightness of his insides, like fingers sinking into honey.

Sol watches as Yohan grunts above him, his forehead sweat soaked, before the knight's cock is brushing up against that sweetest part of him again, and Sol moans as his eyes roll to the back of his head. "S-So much,"

he whines and grips at the sheets beneath him, his toes curl, his back arches. "So g-good—"

You make me feel so good, Yohan.

You always do.

"Sol."

A brief wave of worry washes over Yohan's features; his jaw is tense, tight now, as he holds himself back from moving. "How do you feel?"

"I'm in love with you,"

Sol speaks the confession past a fond smile, modest laughter soon lost to the skin over Yohan's heart, he says it as if it is the most beautiful thing— and it is, Sol thinks . It is.

Yohan's chuckle is light as brushes the hair out of Sol's face. "I know,"

he tells Sol. "It is the same for me. But, my heart,"

he smiles, with his brows raised helplessly, in waiting, wanting. "Sol, how do you feel? May I move—"

"I've never felt so good,"

Sol's words are slurred and another giggle leaves him as he presses his lips to Yohan's ear. "You feel exquisite, Yohan,"

he tells his knight. "I don't want to stop."

He feels Yohan twitch inside him, Yohan tenses before his shoulders finally fall alongside the tension in his features. "I…"

He heaves in a heavy breath. "I see."

Sol's lover smiles back at him. "I'm glad."

He kisses Sol's forehead once more, and lingers there for a moment. "My handsome man."

Sol can do nothing but melt. They are close. So close. Yohan has seen inside his heart—despite the armor of Sol's skin and the way its appearance does not reflect him, despite everything , Sol is embraced as a man by the knight— and that, is a special thing. Yohan thrusts his hips forward, he moves inside him and a tear slips down the side of Sol's cheek. He buries his face into his lover's chest, into his scent , and a moan escapes him.

Yohan has seen inside his soul.

Yohan has looked at him— truly looked.

Yohan has fallen for him.

And they are in love.

And, Gods, how right it all feels.

When Yohan tenses and spills inside him, Sol grasps at his lover's arms and cries out with a smile etched into his lips; he hopes that this will last.