“Oh.” Tiiran gave a start, then felt his arms drop to his sides.
“I expected a snarl. Instead, you seem confused.” Orin studied him. Well, Orin noticed things quickly, so Orin was making a show of studying him, for Tiiran’s benefit more than likely.
“I don’t know how to react when you or anyone says these things,” Tiiran admitted. “Nothing I’ve done is that special, surely? I mostly yell at people.”
Orin shook his head. “You’re worried and you care. My family… they love me. I love them. But I don’t belong with them. Which is a difficult thing to understand as a child, and still painful as a man grown with gray ready to appear in my hair any day. I keep my visits there short, because what do I have to talk about with them? What do they have to talk about with me? They’d worry over this too,” he waved toward his cheek and the stitches, “but they don’t understand the palace, or the danger, or why it’s worth it for me to stay. My friends in the Outguard do, obviously. And it’s nice to have friends or the occasional lover from among them before we’re off on assignments. But few of them will let me discuss books with them, or worry for me as openly as you do.” He waited for Tiiran to meet his gaze again. “None of them wait for me to come back, or are such a lovely sight to behold once I get here.”
Tiiran held tight to the edge of his robe. “And then I yell some more.”
“Then you bring me tea, or let me talk about poetry, or history, or philosophy even though you are a practically-minded kitten. You listen, and you try to understand what I say, and that in itself is a gift.”
Tiiran frowned. “Orin,anyof the assistants here would love to sit with you and listen to you.”And then be fucked by you, though Tiiran would not say it. “No one in the barracks will do that? I’d doubt it even if I hadn’t heard about your… about your others.”
“Myothers.” Orin seemed to nearly purr again, sinking slightly in the chair too small for his bulk while he watched Tiiran grasp at his robe and fidget the longer the stare went on. “Come here, please, kitten. Let me look at you better.”
“You can see me fine from there.” Tiiran was certain of that, if nothing else. Yet, after a moment of indecision that he hoped looked like defiance, he took the step to stand in front of Orin again.
Orin stood with no warning, putting their bodies very close, making Tiiran crane his neck and tip his head back just to feel smaller than he’d ever felt in his life.
Orin curled a finger under Tiiran’s chin so Tiiran couldn’t look away. His eyes were full of that warmth and fondness and hunger from before, setting Tiiran’s insides on fire and making him want to squirm, or look away, or plead for Orin to be merciful.
A strange impulse when Orin was always kind to him. Though perhaps he was not to the others. Perhaps he would not be with Tiiran if Tiiran were better.
“Now,” Orin said pleasantly, leaving Tiiran to shiver because he could not wriggle, “let’s start with something simple. You can tell me what you got up to while I was gone.” He had to see and feel Tiiran’s jolt; Tiiran couldn’t control it in time. “Did you get my letter?”
Tiiran exhaled softly. “Yes. I’ve never gotten a personal letter before. Or a gift. I… I carry the petals with me, although I’m worried the scent will fade if I open the pouch too much.”
“I’m happy you liked them. I’ll have to get you more.” Orin watched Tiiran react to that too. “And did you do as the letter said?”
The question was so soft and warm, Tiiran let his eyes close. “I went to the garden. I also ate more meals, and I mostly tried not to say things that I thought might worry you.”
“‘Mostly.’” Orin seemed amused. But only for a moment. “And?”
Tiiran looked up again. “I fell asleep in the library instead of going to my room for the night, and skipped a meal because of it. Are you going to punish me? Like your others?”
“‘Others’ again,” Orin mused, his thumb brushing Tiiran’s chin. “And punishment again as well. You’ve mentioned it twice now, when my Tiiran is not usually so direct.” He watched Tiiran intently. “Do you want me to punish you?”
It was so like Nikoly for him to ask that Tiiran frowned without thinking.
Orin’s eyebrows went up, though his voice stayed even. “For the offense of failing to eat and falling asleep in here, I think the punishment will not be enough to take your mind off whatever is truly bothering you. What has made you bold enough, or desperate enough, to bring up the things I might do to you.” Tiiran wanted to wriggle away. Orin’s gaze held him in place. “But,” Orin brushed his thumb across Tiiran’s mouth, smiling faintly when Tiiran gasped, “tonight, you go to your room early; leave the library to someone else. No extra reading once there, either, unless it’s purely for fun. You will eat a proper meal.”
“With you?” Tiiran asked hopefully, only to pause. “That’s not punishment, is it? They used to deny me meals when I was in the scullery. Or hit me with….” He paused again because Orin was frowning. “I will eat a proper meal,” he said instead of the rest.
“Hmm.” Orin seemed inclined to pet Tiiran today, which also did not seem a punishment. “And you will wear your hair down tonight and all other nights where it will not get in your way.”
“My hair down?” Tiiran lowered his gaze and ran his tongue anxiously over his chipped tooth. “People will comment.”
“On how beautiful it is?” Orin knew what people would say but asked that anyway.
Tiiran glanced up. “I can wear it down only for you?”
Orin shook his head. “In the evenings, when it won’t get in your way, you will wear it down so it will ease your head and neck and make you less tense.”
“Oh.” A strange punishment to benefit him and make him feel better. Tiiran reached up to pull out his hairpin, then shoved it into his pocket while his hair fell around his ears in an embarrassingly big cloud.
Orin’s approval left him flushed.
“You say, ‘Yes, Orin,’” Orin instructed. “At least in moments like these.”
