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“Nice spearwork out there, bridge boy,” Adolin said jovially, striding into Kaladin’s tent.
Kaladin grunted in response, working at the laces of his boots. The damned things were proving difficult to remove, especially with how hot camp got by midday in the peak of summer. Adolin threw the longsword he’d been sparring with to the ground, pulled his shield off his back, and knelt in front of Kaladin. He reached for the hulking man’s boots. “What, precisely, do you think you’re doing, Princeling?” Kaladin asked.
Finally, some words out of the man.
Adolin looked up at Kaladin innocently. “You seem to need some help with your boots. Didn’t seem sporting to let you keep struggling when it normally takes two people to get these things off the poor sods stuck in regulation boots in the summer.” He eased Kaladin’s left foot into his lap, and began loosening the laces closest to the toes of the boots as opposed to from the top, as Kaladin had been doing. “The sticking point is normally the ankle, so it helps to get these as loose as possible then have one person tugging while you try to pull your foot out.”
As Adolin worked, Kaladin took in the other man’s face. While Kaladin had been sweating up a storm running drills and sparring, no doubt making a mess of himself, Adolin always seemed put together and currently looked to be glistening, rather than melting. His hair also looked unfairly couth, not a hair out of place. Without thinking much about it, Kaladin reached a hand out and took a perfectly tousled ringlet at Adolin’s forehead in his fingers, reveling in how soft his hair was. What did the blasted man use in his hair to make it so soft? Was the rest of him this soft? Stormfather, he bet he was this soft everywhere.
They’d been flirting and toying with each other for months, dancing around their seemingly mutual attraction. While Kaladin would greatly like to find out what Adolin could do with a different type of sword, he also knew you had to be careful in a war camp. Soldiers gossiped worse than anyone he knew, after all.
With a definitive final tug on his right laces, Adolin seemed content with his work. “That’s more like it! If you need to put a hand on my shoulder to steady yourself for this next bit, feel free. I’m going to pull towards me, and you try to yank your foot out. Clear?”
Kaladin rolled his eyes, but responded in the affirmative. He laid a hand on Adolin’s shoulder ( oh what glorious trap definition ) and in unison, the two men began playing tug of war with Kaladin’s shoes. They managed to get both off much faster than Kaladin was accustomed to. “I have to hand it to you, I never would have thought to ask anyone to do that for me.”
Adolin quickly unlaced his own boots and removed them easily. Interesting , Kaladin thought. Is he—planning to be here for a while? “Of course not; much to prideful for that! I finally got tired of it and started special ordering my shoes about five years ago, but before then, this was my nighttime routine.” Adolin reached out a hand to bring Kaladin to his feet. Once he had found his footing, Adolin smoothed a hair behind Kaladin’s ear. He gave Kaladin a tantalizing grin.
Kaladin wasn’t sure what made him do what he did next, but he’d be damned if it didn’t feel right. He reached his hand behind Adolin’s neck, and said, “You always talk so much .” Then he pulled him in for a deep kiss. Immediately, Adolin kissed him back, darting a tongue into his mouth.
The slimmer man wrapped his arms around Kaladin’s waist and pressed himself flush against him. He kissed like he dressed; flamboyantly, loudly, and with keen attention to detail. He seemed to know exactly what Kaladin wanted in the exact moment he wanted it, and he executed with clean efficiency.
Kaladin felt his erection at the same time he noticed the High Prince’s. He moaned and dropped a hand to Adolin’s ass, pulling him even closer. In response, Adolin raked his hands down Kaladin’s back, aggressive and hard. It was perfect.
Kaladin pulled just his face away. “It’s too damn hot for this much clothing.”
“Agreed.” Adolin reached down and undid the button holding Kaladin’s pants up and they fell to the floor unceremoniously. Before Kaladin had a moment to think, Adolin was undoing the clasp and buttons at the top of his own pants. Kaladin pulled his shirt off and shucked off his underwear, leaving himself entirely nude. Adolin took him in greedily, then finally dropped his trousers to the ground. Kaladin palmed himself and started languorously pumping himself as Adolin finished undressing. “Oh that’s no fair.” Adolin actually sounded a bit upset.
“If you didn’t insist on dressing like you’re going to a ball every day, princeling–”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, bridge boy,” Adolin said, pulling his shirt off at last. Immediately, he pulled Kaladin to him and reached for the other man’s cock. “I’ve been fantasizing about this for far too long for you to ruin it with your babble.” He fisted Kaladin’s erection and began squeezing and pumping, getting a feel for what the other man liked.
Kaladin groaned, then hungrily grasped Adolin’s cock and began pumping fast and hard.
“Storms,” gasped Adolin, staggering a bit. He steadied himself by holding onto Kaladin’s shoulder with the hand that wasn’t already engaged.
“I want to make you spend all over me, and then I want you to lick your cum off of me.” Kaladin’s eyes had grown heavy, and his voice was husky and that combined with the sweet smell and shine of his sweat was enough to elicit a whimper out of Adolin. How embarrassing; Bridge Boy would be alluding to that for months to come, he just knew it. “You like that?”
“Uhg the things I want to do to you, you intolerable man,” Adolin said, trying very hard to maintain his composure and not cum prematurely. He increased his speed on Kaladin’s cock and was rewarded with a delicious hum of satisfaction, which turned quickly into a moan.
Everything Adolin was doing to him felt so good. So good. “Tell me what you want to do to me, Princeling.” Kaladin dipped his head to the other man’s neck and began kissing him there, lapping up sweat like sweet nectar as he did.
Adolin let out a little moan, then said, “I want to drink your cum like it’s the last bit of water on a battlefield.” Kaladin ran his thumb over the head of Adolin’s cock. Adolin spasmed a bit in response. “I want to suck your cock till you’re begging for me to stop, till you hardly know what you’re saying—storms, that feels—oh yes—I want to find the exact rhythm—mmm—that makes you cum like you’ve never cum before. Storms, Kaladin, I—just like that—” Kaladin felt the hand resting on his shoulder transition into a claw gripping him for strength, and then he felt a spray of cum hit his lower abdomen and legs. Naturally, Adolin came with a dramatic, drawn out wail.
Then suddenly, the neck he’d been kissing was no longer under his lips. He opened his eyes to find Adolin dropping to his knees for the second time that day. Stormfather . He could get used to this.
Adolin continued pumping Kaladin’s cock, occasionally adding a stroke with one finger up his length for flair. As he did so, he licked up his cum from Kaladin’s body, starting with the bit that had hit his shins, and slowly working his way upwards. Kaladin moaned in anticipation, then started murmuring sweet words of encouragement. He was almost incoherent it felt so good.
And then he felt Adolin’s tongue on his cock. He arched slightly, but Adolin touched a steadying hand to his lower back. The prince opened his mouth and began taking in more and more of Kaladin’s length, Kaladin offering words of praise all the while. He was sure he’d think to feel embarrassed about that later, but that was a problem for a later time: right now he had a prince whose mouth he was trying very hard not to thrust into.
Even as Adolin sucked and licked Kaladin’s erection, the prince moved his hands all over Kaladin’s body. He squeezed his ass, rubbed his hands purposefully up Kaladin’s well defined abs, massaged his thighs, and played with his balls a little bit. And that’s what did it; a thumb firmly teasing his balls, squeezing in just the right way in tandem with a very persistent tongue. With what he hoped was a dignified cry, Kaladin came in Adolin’s mouth.
Adolin looked up from where he was kneeling on his knees, and gently eased his mouth off of Kaladin’s cock. Without breaking eye contact, he stood, took Kaladin’s face in his hands, and kissed him.
This kiss was more gentle than their first. It felt like a show of gratitude rather than a challenge. Kaladin let his hands rest easily on Adolin’s hips. The two men swayed gently, and after a minute or so, they stopped kissing.
The two men looked at each other, and both found it very hard not to grin like they’d bested someone in the sparring ring. Finally, Adolin laughed. “Do you have any idea what you were saying to me at the end?”
Kaladin chuckled sheepishly. “No idea, princeling.”
“I think you called me a ‘beautiful darling of uniforms and fashion’ at one point–is that what you think of me?”
“What, do I think you spend more time picking what to wear every day than I spend on my morning workout and the cleanup afterward combined? Yes, yes I do.”
“Obviously. It’s important for the third in line to the throne to look somewhat regal!”
Kaladin smiled in a way Adolin had never seen before, then planted a gentle kiss on his lips.
"You," Kaladin whispered into Adolin's lips, "are a menace and a terrible flirt."
Adolin grinned maniacally and responded, cocky as you like, "that's not what you said when I had your dick in my mouth, Stormblessed."