Once A Tale (MXM, BXB)

The Black Jackal: Bonus Short

 "Goodness, to think that I'd have such a privilege..."

Fahd sighed, for the third time that afternoon, and regretted doing what he had done. But it was done and here he was, sitting shirtless and feeling quite flustered before the first prince himself. Surna sat behind him, humming happily as he ran his palm over the sleek black fur that covered Fahd from head-to-clawed-toe. That palm was always followed by the slide of a smooth-bristled brush. It pulled at his fur pleasantly, especially since his back was so difficult to brush.

"You really don't have to make a big deal out of it."

"Of course I do."

As usual, Surna was warmly passionate and assured in what he said, this so-called 'privilege' of brushing his lover's fur. His awe bled through his tone of voice and made Fahd's ears burn, for goodness sake! It was damned embarrassing.

His embarrassment slipped away as the brush caught briefly on a tangle. Surna paused and, with the expertise of someone used to detangling, coaxed the knot to soften with his fingertips before resuming his brushing.

"I know you didn't pick this up from Tiar," he said dryly, for the dog had an even smoother coat than him. "So, where'd you get this little talent?"

"Believe it or not," Surna said, "both Emperim and Alfen, at one point, wanted to wear their hair down to their feet when they were younger."

Flashes of the stern eyeglasses-wearing prince and the flouncy, flighty one popped into Fahd's head. He snorted inelegantly. Surna chuckled at his reaction.

"Indeed! However, they took absolutely terrible care of their hair so it fell to me to brush it and braid it. Fahd, you haven't the slightest what kind of monstrosities I would find in Alfen's hair. It was an ecosystem for the rarest of insects. Ugh." He shuddered expressively behind Fahd, who barked out laughter once again, tossing his head back this time as he pictured the small Surna he'd seen in painted portraits with his round little nose and chubby cheeks screwed up in disgust.

"You poor sucker," Fahd laughed.

"Yes. Thank goodness they outgrew it." Surna sighed. "I think Mother was with me one day while I was doing it and she just said, 'no, you both waste Surna's time with your hair, it's time to cut it' and lopped it off then and there."

Fahd pictured the fierce woman who reminded him of a desert sandstorm. "I can see that," he agreed quickly, grinning.

"Thus, I was freed. Not before I became quite skilled at de-knotting and braiding, though."

Surna's fingertips dragged along the back of Fahd's neck. The beastman felt a shudder go up through it and he tensed on instinct, biting his teeth together.

"Though your fur is nowhere near long enough for a braid," he said, soft and oblivious. It wasn't fair that Surna should have all the fun, Fahd thought abruptly, of discombobulating him without even realising it. He clenched his hands briefly in his lap before turning, so quickly that Surna jumped in surprise. "Fahd?"

"Your turn," he said roughly and seized Surna about the waist.

The prince squeaked as he tumbled into Fahd's lap, struggling to right himself though Fahd twisted him about perfectly well so he was seated as comfortably as he could be. His gaze darted to and fro, mouth open and letting out some stream of useless words of flustered embarrassment. It was a delightful switch, and the jackal delighted in it.

Fahd leaned in, sniffing, nosing at his cheek, up to his temple and his hairline, his neatly-kept dark hair that always smelled of the incenses and oils he loved. "Bet it was ages since you last had anyone brush your hair," he said. "Gimme the brush."

Surna clutched it to his chest. Fahd narrowed his eyes contemplatively.

"If you don't, I'll eat you up." He snapped his teeth in a soft 'click' by Surna's ear and felt more than heard his breath catch.

"Is that supposed to be a threat, my love?" Surna asked with a laugh that trembled.

Fahd's chest stormed with warmth and he hmphed, a sharp gust through his nostrils. "Not as good a one as I hoped. Give me the brush, please, love."

The usage of the endearment was enough and Surna bashfully handed over the brush.

First his hair and then—well, maybe he would carry out his 'threat' after that?