Wedding Night

451 35 6
                                    

do you like spice or nah

...

Ryan sat with his back against the backrest of his plush wedding bed, his husband nowhere in sight.

It was supposed to be their first night together.

In his heart, he knows, their actual first night together was the one where they realised their feelings into words and melted them into a kiss tinged with traces of chocolates.

Not this lonely forlorn night of misery, where his lover has scorned and villainised him, jilted him on their wedding night, fled from his sight, disgusted and enraged.

The guards outside could be heard yawning every now and then, and the ticking of the wall clock seemed intensified in the silence of his solitude.

He slid his feet under the cotton sheets, blew out the candle on his bedside, and turned his back to the open door of his new room that once belonged only to his master.

...

A door snapping shut jolted him awake.

"My..." He drifted off, standing on the precipice of consciousness. Sitting up, he looked at the man who just came barelling in.

His husband.

"Hello." He greeted awkwardly. A glance out the window told him it was already sunrise.

His husband had been out the whole night.

Their wedding night.

Swallowing thickly, he opened his mouth to say something, but found his brain not cooperating. He could only feel his guts twisting.

"Do you want-"

"Why are you doing this?"

Nusrat stared at him, a brooding shadow in the dimly lit room. There was no malice on his face, but his eyes spoke in agony.

"Do what?" Ryan questioned, choosing to stand up as well. Their mininal height difference makes him feel more comfortable.

"This, this farce." Nusrat spit out, never breaking eye contact.

This made Ryan grit his teeth.

"It's not a farce, crown prince." He spat back, losing his composure. "It's real for me. For all that mattered yesterday, I signed my life away to you for enternity, for my country."

"And did I not, as well?"

"I left my home." Ryan looked away, unable to bear the brunt of his husband's accusing stare.

"And you think that's-

"My father is dying!"

That made Nusrat go silent, but Ryan was only starting.

"Is it that horrible being married to me?"

He didn't get an answer.

"I just- just don't know why this has to be a horrible outcome to you. I mean, didn't we-" He cut himself off, emotion travelling up his throat and choking him.

But only after a moment, he gathered himself and looked at his husband.

"That is, I offer, if you feel like you have needs, dear husband, you may endeavour to come to me."

Nusrat stared at him in silence a little imcredilously, then laughed even more disbelievingly.

"You think, what I felt for you was lust?"

Ryan frowned, frustrated that his words were getting twisted. "That's not what I-"

"I wrote poems for you, Rafael! Horrible proses, horrible stories, anything to get your attention, get your help even though I didn't need it, because I wanted it, because I wanted your company! I wanted to court you since the moment I saw you!"

Ryan racked his brain for a response, maybe a rebuke for the misnaming, but the crown prince had started pacing the room in distress.

"But you lied to me! Hell, us getting married was the best possible outcome. But you lied to me! You lied about everything, so now everytime I look at you, I see nothing but lies!"

"I did it to protect myself!"

"See, everything you say is so contradictory! You think me a savage brute and yet you claim to-" Nusrat yelled but something in Ryan's heavy gaze made him stop for a moment.

"Oh, but this isn't about love, is it? It was never about love. I'm a fool."

"What?"

"You lust after me!"

Ryan blushed in mortification, hackles rising at the accusation, even though it had some ground. He looked away, unable to speak. Anything he said would he twisted anyway.

"Fine." Nusrat laughed mockingly. "If that's what you desire, don't say anything. We can go through this horrid business for once and for all."

Despite his longing for deeper sentiments, Ryan blushed more, in anticipation more than anything, as the crown prince tore off his shirt in a frenzy. He felt his gaze go heavier by every second as more and more of the older man's chest was revealed.

Glistening tan skin on display, a feast for his eyes.

He tried to swallow past the dryness in his throat, but the dramatic man had flung himself onto the bed, his pelvis barely covered by loose stringed pants and upper body bared for anyone and everyone, stanced like a Greek god he should worship.

"Go on then, I'm all yours."

...

WHAT ARE YOU DOING CROWN PRINCE!!!!!

gUYS don't get too excited but pls vote and comment im going through a slump


The Gift of War [bxb]Where stories live. Discover now