They didn’t have time, but Eurion had to convey how he felt when it came to those marks and the insistent burning that reared its head whenever they kissed just a little too passionately. Because his hand was wrapping around Sláine’s waist as best he could and that moan? However small it may have been, it was there and Gods did it just make the prince all the more addictive.
It almost had him rethinking everything he had said about waiting till Skyfall if only to draw more of those sounds out of the prince. To see how loud they could get and how embarrassed he might become if he was aware this his brother and friend would be able to hear him. It took every ounce of willpower to not fuck the prince senseless right there and Eurion was all the more thankful for the amount of patience he had been blessed with.
It didn’t stop him from shifting Sláine till Eurion was once again pressed comfortably on top of him, especially with the prince’s legs wrapped around his middle to draw them as close as they could be with one another in the present moment. They should get up. They really should stop. Just like yesterday morning reality was going to come crushing down and they would be left with the disappointment of waiting and time was never kind. Eurion was aware that they would have to wait longer if they didn’t find an inn that evening until they could enjoy themselves like this.
It was maybe why he didn’t pull away, if anything kissing harder, at the realisation that in a few moments he would no longer have the luxury. If Eurion could draw as much as he could out of Sláine, just for one more minute, he was determined, because he was a stubborn bastard who was addicted to his prince and had little knowledge of how to stop or hold himself back now he had had a taste.
The echoing thought of this is a bad idea resounded through Sláine's mind right as Eurion shifted them, but it got whisked away into nothingness the second he had the assassin on top of him. It no longer felt like a bad idea to have Eurion on top of him, pressing him into the mattress and stealing every breath from the prince with the upped intensity of the kiss. They were going to be late, Sláine resigned himself to that fact. They might always be late, because if they couldn't be together during the day, then they might as well squeeze out every second of time together like this that they could. The other two could deal with it, and if they complained, he'd find a way to shut them up.
Because Eurion was so clearly as desperate as Sláine was, even if he held off on pouncing the prince. Sláine wrapped his arms around Eurion's neck to hold him close, to encourage the deepened kiss, to never have to let go for the miniscule moment that the world was nothing but the two of them. If they had been under different circumstances, would they be just as desperate for each other? If Eurion hadn't been involved with the Gods, and they kept him in Sláine's room to hide until they found a way to release him without questions, would the two still be clawing at each other and making promises of a future time, on top of each other all the time—or would they get it out of their system whenever the mood popped up, and be otherwise calm and living comfortable in one another's presence?
Sláine didn't know, but right now, he had an assassin just begging for the prince to make noises with the intensity in which he kissed and touched him. More pleased little sounds escaped him despite how hard he tried to be quiet, to not make such noises. But he couldn't help himself—he was addicted to Eurion and caved in the face of the man's determination to draw out as much from the prince as possible.
Sláine broke the kiss to get in a desperate gasp, a soft groan quickly following because fuck he couldn't get enough of this. Eurion above him, kissing him so fiercely, looking so undone. A sweet flush was already seeping onto his face, but he only wrapped himself further around Eurion as if silently refusing to let him go.
At this point, Eurion didn't care if they were going to be late or not. He'd just blame it on the fact that his wound was being a pain in the ass and they had to take some extra time to make sure it was secure for travelling. Not entirely false, because he was going to have to double-check the wound and take some more painkillers before they left, but right now? Right now he had Sláine trapped against the bed and making the best sounds.
He couldn't stop himself from kissing down the prince's jaw and neck, resisting the urge to bite down and bruise but nipping at the skin just enough to pull more of those noises from Sláine. He was curious as to how much he would be able to get away with before they had to get up. It would be soon, and there wasn't enough time for too much fun, but Eurion wanted to see just how riled up he could get Sláine, see how flushed he could become, especially when there wouldn't be much time to cool off afterwards.
The hand that was around the other's waist drifted downwards slowly, testing to see how far and how much he could touch before Sláine or someone eventually stopped them. Squeezing, groping, moving in between them. It was difficult when they were pressed together as they were, but Eurion shifted ever so slightly so he was able to move his hand where he wanted.
From the way Sláine had just further wrapped himself around him, the assassin couldn't help but let his smirk grow against the other's neck. He could feel the flush, the heat, with how close they were and was positive it would only grow the more he touched and kissed, and it was all to draw out more of those sounds because fuck was that starting to become his favourite noise.
They shouldn't. They shouldn't. Sláine was ready to call it quits before they went any further than they had already pushed it, because he knew that Eurion would go for more, and he'd be helpless to stop it. He couldn't be mad at Eurion, though, for taking everything he could, because the prince absolutely would do the same, and was probably doing it right at that moment—pulling Eurion in, trapping him to his body, not saying no.
But that fucking hand.
Sláine went weak for Eurion in the face of that exploratory touch, even if he absolutely knew what the assassin was up to. He sucked in a deep breath and arched up from surprise and involuntary encouragement. "Oh, he breathed, eyes flashing, "you are a menace." They had to go. They had to. But Eurion wasn't going to go easy on the prince, and Sláine got stuck on deciding if he liked it or wanted to strangle the man for it. Probably both, they were looking like equally viable options right at that moment.
Choked off whines got strangled within his throat, but they slipped through as he attempted to control his shaking breathing, and even more got past his guard when he tipped his head back to give Eurion more room at his neck. The assassin was getting his wish, even if Sláine was trying so hard not to make a sound. The inn wasn't likely to be soundproof, he doubted the door and walls hid much noise, and he really didn't need his brother and friend knowing how he sounded when being tortured so good.
Still, his best wasn't enough, and Sláine breathed a soft moan into Eurion's ear. Despite himself, his skin steadily flushed, and his legs unwound from Eurion and fell open some. He could curse Eurion later, when his mind wasn't cloudy yet again and he didn't have the assassin getting handsy with him first thing in the morning. Clearly, it didn't take much to turn the prince into a mess all for Eurion, not when he knew just the right things to do to make him fold.
Just as Sláine wasn’t going to make the next week easy on Eurion, he had every intention to do the same in response, and this was just the start. He had no intention of going further considering they were pressed for time and it was never as enjoyable when you had to rush things. Teasing, soft and gentle touches he had always found brought the most out of people, especially when they knew they shouldn’t. It definitely didn’t help knowing that they could get caught because as much as they shouldn’t due to the situation, Eurion was well aware that having an assassin of all people touching up the prince was not going to be a good look for him.
But Sláine’s breathless words and moans? The way his legs fell open softly and he arched into his touches? Eurion couldn’t help the low, possessive noise that escape him as his hand moved between them slowly.
It was unfair, really, for someone to be so hot. For Sláine to be able to have Eurion addicted within the span of two days. If was entirely unfair that they didn’t have more time. That they were in a shitty inn, with walls far too thin for either of their likings.
“Gods,” Eurion moved his head away from the prince’s neck to look at his face, to see that beautiful redness spreading across his cheeks, to see see the cloudiness in his eyes and how he fell apart at the slightest touches.
"You're going to kill me," Sláine hissed, even as he moved into Eurion's grasp and sought out as much as he could while they stole away time they didn't have. His nose flared with false annoyance. "Or no, I'm going to kill you. You are an ass." It was perhaps a little undignified for him to be bitching while Eurion was so clearly riling him up, and his body was going hot all over as arousal crashed through him. But it was so unfair because it felt so good and he didn't want to lose Eurion's touch, but they had things to do and two nosy people to hide from.
The prince whined when Eurion pulled away, not wanting him to go, but the assassin wasn't going very far. Sláine gazed up at Eurion, painfully aware of the effect the man had on him and all the more shy about it. That blush spreading over his skin crept down to mingle with the bruises on his chest. His lips were parted on controlled breaths that were stuttered and heavy. Every ounce of him was highly affected from Eurion's torture, and he hated it so much because he wouldn't be able to do anything about it.
They had to wait until Skyfall until Eurion could fuck him into oblivion. Sláine wouldn't be able to sedate any of his cravings until then, until they knew for sure what was going on with them. It had to be at a time that wasn't a shitty inn room with their companions just across the hall from them and easily within hearing range. But neither one of them seemed likely to make it an easy wait, and the torture he knew would just escalate the closer they got to the Fae lands and Skyfall. So Sláine parted his lips some more and jerked his head back, silently begging for a kiss because he needed to have a taste. His body was wired and craving something else, but all he could really have was a kiss, and anything Eurion decided to subject him to with that devil of a hand between them.
Eurion couldn't help the soft chuckle that escaped him at Sláine's complaining, and it was then that he decided to properly make the prince beg for something, even just a kiss because his hand stopped touching and moving between them and he made no move to lean in to kiss him even at his silent request. It was too much fun watching him squirm and wither, moaning softly and looking up at the prince as he was.
"Oh? So you're complaining now?" Eurion turned his smirk into a mocking pout. There was no sympathy in the gaze, just that glimmer of want that showed just how much fun he was having with Sláine, "Sounds like you're not enjoying yourself and if that's the case then I might have to stop."
Just a little, he wanted to hear the other beg and whine for him just a little more, see how willing Sláine would go to get more of him, to get him to stay there and get him to keep touching for just five more minutes. Those sounds spurred Eurion on more than anything else. More than the burning in his stomach, more than the heat behind his eyes because that was what he enjoyed the most. He didn't know why, it had always been that way but hearing someone? It was what turned him on the most, had the assassin desperate and wanting to draw out more. More of those sounds, more of watching them fall from Sláine's lips. Hearing the prince beg for him to touch him, move his hand, kiss, and give him what they both wanted and needed.
They were both in the shits, really, because Eurion was just as turned on as Sláine and it was his fault for getting them to this point. They would have to stop soon and they were both going to pretend like they weren't horny and desperate for each other and that was going to be a challenge knowing what went down in the room over night.
Strangling Eurion was becoming an increasingly favorable option. He couldn't just stop after that. Sláine wanted to scream at Eurion for thrusting him into a state of purgatory, feeling the ghost touches of the assassin and not having anything for real. It drove him mad. But a tiny part of him, the leftover rationality, whispered that this was the chance to stop things, to take the opportunity to agree that Eurion should stop so that they could get up, cool down, and get ready. It was the perfect opening for him to take.
But logic was long gone from the forefront of the prince's mind. He was needy, and desperate, and needed to be touched and kissed and groped. When it visibly dawned on Sláine that Eurion was really sitting back and doing nothing, his expression switched between confusion, disbelief, frustration, then desperation. The prince dug his fingers into Eurion's hair, if only to have something to hold because he knew he wouldn't be allowed to pull the man down to get what he wanted, and fixed the man with puppy eyes. "Eurion," he whined, writhing and aching in all the places he wanted Eurion to be, "please."
Sláine spread his legs further, inviting Eurion into his space because he wasn't close enough. He wasn't touching the prince or giving him what he needed. "Please," he asked again, more of a whimper this time because he couldn't help it, he couldn't help the sounds that Eurion stole from him because he was too focused on him to care. "I want you to touch me." To provide extra encouragement, because he was determined to use every angle he had to beg, Sláine rolled his body up into Eurion, chasing that warmth and connection, but it wasn't enough. It'd never be enough, especially when Eurion was keeping him pinned with his presence and looking at the prince like he wanted to make the entire building hear Sláine beg for it.
Fuck.
As much as Eurion wanted to tell Sláine to keep begging, to hear how whiny and desperate he could make the prince it was difficult when the other was pushing their bodies together and using the created friction to get the assassin to keep moving. It worked, because every soft whine that was pulled from the other was too good to pass up on. As much as they should stop because there would be time for this at Skyfall, Eurion let his hand move with the roll of Sláine's body, groping and squeezing and moving in the places that they both needed at this point as he caught the prince's lips in a kiss that was more a clash of teeth and tongue than anything.
Eurion may have been the one in control over the situation when it came to them, to what happened, to how and when he had the prince, it was hard to say no to Sláine when he was begging as he was and grinding against him. Quick, it would be quick and fast but enough for both of them for the time being.
It would only get worse the closer to the festival it became. The closer they got to the night where Eurion would finally get to fuck Sláine in so many ways and not have to worry about who heard, anyone walking in or interrupting them, this desperation was going to become far worse. They would have to be careful about what they did, if they even did anything while on the road because the path to Dalthia became less civil with fewer inns the longer they went and they wouldn't have the luxury of privacy as they had now.
Eurion only broke the kiss to mumbled against Sláine's lips, his smirk returning, "Is that what you wanted, hm?"
Sláine rewarded Eurion's efforts with an unchecked moan that got partially smothered at the end by the sudden kiss. The prince's grip around the assassin tightened on reflex, because he felt dizzy even while lying down and needed something to hold onto, something to ground himself into this moment because he was sure he'd lose his awareness of everything else. It didn't matter that the kiss was messy and rough, because he had Eurion's lips on his and the taste of him on his tongue.
Searing heat and primal need followed every drag of Eurion's touch and squeeze, driving Sláine insane. But Eurion had given him what he wanted, despite it being what he shouldn't be asking for, so he swallowed his pride and let soft pleased moans filter through and mingle with the kiss. Someone hearing would probably stay at the back of his mind, given how concerned he was of Eurion hearing him, but the assassin deserved to get something in return for caving to the prince's requests.
"Yes." Sláine's voice was thick, heavy with the burning feelings Eurion had oh so kindly forced upon him. He stole a quick kiss, less focused and coordinated, and added quietly with a small whimper for effect, "I need you, acushla." He needed him, because that bastard had started this shit. Eurion was being given the sounds that he seemed to like, each one being a little looser and less restrained than the last; it was only fair that he fix the problem he caused in the first place.
The prince didn't care if the other two saw just how wrecked he looked when they eventually left. Not right now. He might end up utterly disheveled and wound up and visibly screaming 'I need to be fucked', but lying beneath Eurion, feeling that smirk against his lips and the warmth radiating through his body, he couldn't find it in himself to really care.
The thought of watching Sláine become undone under him, over his hand and chest was far too good an opportunity to pass up. If this was how the prince was when it came to just kissing, to the moving of Eurion's hands under the waistband of his pants he could only imagine just how good it was going to be when he finally was able to fuck him.
He could picture it, picture how the prince would look in all the different ways Eurion was going to eventually have him, how many sounds he was going to draw out of him until he was practically screaming for Eurion. It just had his hand moving faster, had him smirking more and capturing the prince's lips in a kiss so he could moan into his mouth. There was that little voice in the back of his head that told the assassin that someone had most definitely heard. If anyone walked past they would hear, lingered a little too long in the hallway to the stairs. He wondered if Caoimhe and Aideen could hear, or if they were too wrapped up in one another in a similar situation worrying about the same things to hear them.
Either way, it didn't stop Eurion's hands, his own hips moving softly, dragging those kisses down Sláine's jaw and to his neck so he could talk directly into his ear, "So pretty for me." He was unable to hide the want and lust for the prince from his voice, how it dropped deeper, how it was rough around the edges in ways it normally wasn't. He couldn't help it, just as the prince couldn't hide his soft moans and whimpers from escaping his lips.
It was so hot. Both in the room and the way Sláine was laid out under him. Eurion's mind had stopped thinking about consequences and only about the prince in his hand, how he was making him feel good and had him begging.
Even if Caoimhe's teasing from earlier had been all in good fun, it wasn't entirely wrong. It had been far too long since Sláine had lain with another person, and it just wasn't the same when taking care of himself. There wasn't that thrill of being touched by another, of not knowing what was coming next. As embarrassing and pitiful as it was that he was so affected by Eurion's morning torture, it wasn't an entire shock to the prince that he was reacting in such a way. Well, mostly. It was still a jolt to his system finding someone that clicked so well with him and his likes, someone that had the prince wrapped around his finger with little to no effort. That came as a surprise, but it only made everything feel a thousand times better.
Sláine's body remained tense beneath Eurion, locked up from intensity and anticipation. He still kept Eurion close, though, still encouraged every touch and that hand driving him over the edge. At this point, there was no diverting his attention to anything but those things. It was probably a good thing that the assassin had kissed him to keep him relatively quiet.
But the kiss ended, and Eurion was kissing elsewhere, whispering into the prince's ear. Sláine bit his lip on a whine, head tilting back into the pillow, and panted while he had the space to breathe. "Oh fuck," he whispered, right as a shiver shot up his spine. If anything could do it for him, it was Eurion's voice right then. It was so fucking hot hearing him sound like that, like he was falling apart at the seams in another way, just as Sláine was.
The prince shook again and turned his head just enough to nudge his nose against Eurion. "All for you." The words were on the back of a moan—just for Eurion. Everything about Sláine was for him.
Hearing Sláine say those words had the assassin practically growling into the prince's ear, especially as he felt the other tense and watch as he shivered. Eurion couldn't help the smirk, the feeling of pride that settled into his stomach as he watched the prince become undone. It was unfair, really, for someone to look so good when they were just a mess. But here Sláine was, moaning those words and using his hand to get off and Eurion had never felt so attracted to someone before than he did watching him at that moment.
"Fuck Sláine," Eurion prayed that the prince heard how desperate he was himself, how by just getting the other off he was painfully horny himself and it was not okay. Of course, Eurion had no issue helping Sláine, in fact, he enjoyed it more than most people probably would - to be able to help, to be the person to get someone to that point, to know that they were feeling every touch, thinking about him and what he was doing to them, and how he would become associated with the pleasure of it all even if they didn't want to be.
The prince brought out that possessive, desperate side that Eurion had hidden away for a long time. Usually, these things were just a quick fuck and be done because that was all they had time for. There were no connections, none of that yearning and craving for the other beyond basic need which made things easier but here and now? That feeling was long gone because Eurion wanted to get everything out of Sláine, wanted to make him feel better than anyone had every made him feel before and ruin him for anyone else.
Breathy moans steadily increased the closer Sláine got to relief, so much so that he covered his own mouth to muffle them from being heard. Eurion touching him was something else entirely. It wasn't some stranger wanting to gloat about bedding a prince, or a soldier looking for a night to let off steam and never acknowledge it again. It was Eurion wanting to watch Sláine squirm and fall apart under him, being possessive and just as desperate as the prince was. It was someone Sláine cared about that had him getting exactly what he asked for and making him regret it, because now wasn't the time, but it felt so good that he couldn't stop. Neither one could, it felt like. It hadn't taken much convincing to get Eurion to touch him again.
Despite his blissed out and hazy-eyed state, Sláine heard Eurion's words, the edge to his voice. That wouldn't do, even though that voice was hot as fuck and the prince wouldn't complain about hearing it more. He finally let go of Eurion, a sad sacrifice, and reached down with his now free hand to dip his fingers beneath the waistband of Eurion's pants—no, his pants. Another thrill went through the prince at the reminder that this man was in his clothes.
His concentration wasn't great, and it definitely got worse as his body started tensing even more when the sensations started to get too much, but he was nimble and knew what he was doing, so he didn't suffer much from it. He did, however, suffer as Eurion continued to push him further and further, until even the hand over his mouth couldn't hide all of the whimpers as he rutted up against Eurion and his touch. "Fuck, Eurion," he called after moving his hand just a fraction. It was a plea and a warning all in one. It was too much, too fast, but perfect all the same.
As Sláine became unravelled underneath him all Eurion could do to quiet the other and dave them both from the embarrassment that would have them more flushed than what they were currently doing, was capture the princes lips in a kiss that was far from perfect. The tensing and the way the other’s hand stuttered with the movement just had his own moving faster, working him through the relief as Sláine’s hand moved against him.
Gods was he perfect, as is they had been crafted and made for one another in more ways than one that had them both desperate and searching for the others touch before they even properly understood why. Opposites in so many ways and yet utterly perfect. It was solidified in the way they touched each other, knowing exactly how they needed one another without having to ask or move or change the way they did so. It all was easy.
The thrill of what and where they were in the present moment, knowing that time was against them, knowing that in a few moments Eurion was going to have to let Sláine go and he wouldn’t be able to see the prince like this for Gods knows how long just made Eurion savour the moment, drag it out for as long as he could as his own hips moved against Sláine hand. His own groans were muffled to begin with, only subdued more when it came to the kiss. They’d both be thinking about this all day. At least Eurion was going to be. How could he not, when the man who was practically perfect for him was folding and unraveling under his touch, moaning and whining into his kisses and was flushed a beautiful shade of red. There was no way he would forget this anytime soon, maybe not ever if he could help it.
Gods, he's going to be the death of me. If it wasn't with a blade across his neck, it'd be from the onslaught of sensations and feelings that Eurion unleashed on him time and time again. Sláine didn't care if they were unintentional or so very intentional, like that hand moving between them to get the prince completely unraveled beneath him. The intensity in which he wanted this man, to have him in his bed—not a random inn—was completely unlike anything he's felt before. Lovers felt like a cheap label for what Eurion and he were when Sláine had never felt for someone like he did with the assassin. Even just this, the bare minimum of touching each other and exploring wasn't even close to anything else. It was a heat that he felt completely, within every part of him. Suddenly a label felt insufficient for what they were. Eurion was his and nothing else—no one else's. Just as he was giving himself all to the assassin.
Sláine couldn't think much, couldn't do anything but feel and take it and let go. He rewrapped an arm around Eurion's neck when the other covered his lips in a kiss more meant to silence than anything, needing something to hold onto. It didn't take long for Sláine to start panting against Eurion's lips instead of kissing, the breaths stuttered and strained as he tried to not make noises, but that was about as much effort as he put as he closed his eyes and tilted his head back, body arching up into the assassin one last time. Eurion's name was more an overwhelmed whine than anything as he came undone.
His hand had stopped moving for the intense moment, the prince unable to think about anything else, but even in his unfocused and blissful state in the clouds, he remembered Eurion. Sláine wasn't a selfish lover, even if he enjoyed the assassin's full attention on him, so he gave a little squeeze and started moving his hand again between them. Reciprocating, because he too enjoyed listening to Eurion's muffled groans. But he also wanted to make the man feel good, just as Eurion had done for the prince.
The pants were going to be stained.
Watching and hearing Sláine unravel under him was more intense than anything Eurion had experienced as of yet, and all they had been doing was exploring. Desperation in the morning after teasing in the evening and letting themselves enjoy each other before the inevitable occurred and they would have to part. As close as they could be for right now, especially when the prince was arching into him and whining his name as if Eurion was the only person in the world.
And Gods was Sláine beautiful in the moment, and he could feel his stomach flip and twist with every small movement the other made against him, how even with just his voice the prince would have been able to rile him up to an intensity he hadn’t experienced.
Especially when even after Sláine had undone beneath him, his hand kept moving against Eurion, and the breaths that the prince let escape his lips were more soft moans than anything else. It had his head dropped back into the crook of the other’s neck, right by his ear so Sláine could hear every grunt and groan, every time he breathed his name and swore. It didn’t take long for Eurion himself to let himself go, tensing and groaning and having to resist the urge to bite down on Sláine’s neck to both mark and keep himself quiet. They were going to be so fucked having to pretend like this didn’t happen when they left the room, like they weren’t flushed and hot and bothered and coming down from their highs. Especially when Eurion had regained some composure, he lifted his head, finally look his hand away from Sláine and brought it up to his mouth to clean the mess the prince had made.
The only regret Sláine had was that he couldn't watch Eurion unravel not long after the prince had. He would've loved seeing the moment the assassin let go, but Eurion had buried his face into Sláine's neck and hid away. That was fine, though, because they'd have a next time. He'd have another chance to drink in the sight, especially when he got a close-up concert of Eurion's groans. It would have to do for now, to tide them off until the next time they got their hands on each other—because Sláine refused to make this a one time thing.
"Oh, fuck you," the prince whispered, breathing heavily and far too attracted to the sight of Eurion licking his hand and fingers clean. But he had a smile on his lips, and he took up that idea by drawing his own hand away and making a spectacle of just what his pretty mouth could do, a tired smirk dancing on his lips and in his eyes. Later. They could seduce each other once more later. Sláine instead pulled Eurion into a kiss, tasting the both of them. It didn't matter that he needed to get some air into his lungs, he just needed Eurion right then.
Sláine's arms wrapped around Eurion, keeping him close through the kiss. A multitude of emotions ran through him, and he poured it all into the kiss as if begging the assassin to understand it all. Need. Want. Passion. Gratitude. Contentment. Sláine was coming down from a high he never thought he'd be on because of an assassin, and he didn't regret a thing about it. But because he had enough mind to be a brat, despite the thoroughly fucked look he sported, Sláine mumbled against Eurion's lips, "Now who's the pretty one?"
“Still you.” Eurion couldn’t help but kiss back with the same amount of passion and mix of emotions that Sláine gave him. The thoroughly fucked out look that the prince was wearing would have been more than enough encouragement for the assassin to keep going, to see how far he could take that look until Sláine could only remember his name, but they had spent enough time fooling around.
As much as it pained him to unwrap the prince from around him, Eurion did, because the other two would burst through that door any second now and ask them what the hell they were doing that was taking so long because it definitely wasn’t getting ready to leave. That would spoil the moment, and he was content on keeping the memory of Sláine laid and blissed out a positive one, rather than having his brother and friend ruin it for the both of them.
“Come on, we’ve got to get going.” Eurion left one final kiss to the princes lips before he pulled away completely, but taking a moment to look at Sláine laid out on the bed before he turned away to change out of his pants and into his usual travelling wear. It was a shame to have to leave after what they had just done, but there would be time for more of it later, when there wasn’t the threat of the moment being spoiled or ruined, when Eurion didn’t have to be conservative with his words or movements.
Sláine made a disgruntled noise, as Eurion was objectively pretty fucking pretty at that moment, but he didn't bother to argue when Eurion was pulling away and leaving his space. The disgruntlement switched to a whine as Sláine chased after Eurion and that fleeting final kiss, only managing to flop onto his stomach in the pursuit of grabbing the man and failing to do so. "I don't want to," he complained, then grabbed the pillow Eurion had been closest to and hugged it into his chest to bury his face in it. It was slightly uncomfortable to not be changing right away, but he didn't care at that moment—the prince was more concerned about complaining than comfort.
He was probably a definite sight to behold. Sláine's deep red curls were all over the place and a total mess, tangled up within his horns but also in general from how much he had been moving around. The flush was persistently sticking to his skin and making his golden freckles shine even brighter, as was the slight sheen of sweat over his body. All he needed was more visible marks and bites on his skin, a litany of bruises both from teeth and hands, and he'd be a proper mess of a royal and happy to be such.
But as he watched Eurion get dressed, something else popped into mind. "We're not leaving until you properly care for that wound." Sláine had wanted to give it a look anyway, before the assassin had accosted him and decided that they'd have a little more than just a morning make out session. Besides, the prince needed to fix himself, make his hair more presentable, somehow calm the flush of his skin. And then he'd have to mask his horns and teeth again—Sláine's head popped up as his eyes zeroed in on Eurion, glimmering with renewed interest. "I can hide marks." If he could hide his horns, it'd be nothing to hide blemishes.
As Eurion was in the middle of switching out his pants and stuffing them to the bottom of his bag he stopped, half leant over, to give Sláine a look that was between a frown and a smirk. Because as much as he inferred what the prince was suggesting- that he could mask the marks that Eurion could leave in more visible places, he couldn't, because time was ticking and if he spent even a moment longer like this he would end up fucking Sláine with no shame right there.
"Stop complaining and get dressed." Was his only response to the prince before he finally, finally dragged his gaze away. He applauded himself for his self-control as it was pretty fucking difficult when the prince was so addictive and he would have been more than happy to comply. But if something happened and Sláine was, for whatever reason, unable to keep those marks hidden it would lead to a world of complications that Eurion wasn't quite ready for yet, and either way, they had to get moving. The trip was long and the days were ticking by already and they really have been moving at least half an hour ago but they were still here and that was an issue.
When the other mentioned his wound, Eurion couldn't help but groan in annoyance, "It's fine, don't even worry about it." The bandages should have been tighter, and he should have cleaned it more thoroughly but he hadn't, and he wasn't going to if he could help it. They had to move, and the assassin had never been good with self-care unless he was actually dying but as of right now, he would be fie. He could walk, he could move and he was fine so for him, it wasn't a big deal.
Sláine scoffed and flopped onto his back once more in a fit of dramatics. He didn't want to get up and face the world. He wanted to have Eurion marking his skin in other places, or an extra hour to lounge around and do nothing for the day. "You're no fun," he huffed, absolutely pouting and refusing to get up out of the bed. For good cause, honestly, because if he started changing then while Eurion was doing the same, he'd end up pushing the assassin onto the bed and sitting in his lap for a round two.
"I'm absolutely going to worry about—" A loud banging on the door startled him, an all too familiar fist pounding at wood. Sláine curled his lip in a silent snarl and shouted at his twin on the other side. "Fuck off, we're getting there. Go have fun with your guard or something."
Caoimhe yelled back through the door. "I don't care if Solise said you're licking your wounds, we gotta go soon, you lazy ass bitch."
Sláine flipped off the door as if his brother could see it from the other side. "Eat shit and drop dead for all I care. Learn some patience while you're at it; the dirt might fill the empty room in your skull."
"Go fuck yourself."
The younger prince was grinning despite the heated words, and Caoimhe's footsteps left without another word with a muffled cackle. "Oh, I won't be doing that myself," he said, voice just low enough that Eurion would hear it and the slight purr in the words. Finally encouraged to leave the bed, Sláine rolled off the mattress and stretched, then went over to Eurion to steal a kiss because he was missing it already. "I'm still not forgetting about your wound, sneaky assassin," he mumbled against the man's lips, giving Eurion a pointed stare. "I get dressed and fix this mess you made, and you take care of yourself."
As much as Eurion could tell that the words between the twins were all just banter, especially from the grin on Sláine's face, the assassin blinked a few times at the harsh words, opened his mouth to say something but decided against it and shut it again with a small shake of his head. Thank fuck he didn't have siblings if that was what it was like between the two of them.
He deliberately ignored the prince's comment and the purr in his words because by now he was aware that if he decided to engage it was only going to end up making more of a mess and spending more time when Caoimhe had made it clear they were ready to go and waiting on the two of them. Eurion couldn't help the frown that emerged after the kiss at Sláine telling him to take care of himself and the wound because the assassin was feeling quite inclined to leave it be and had no care, really, for the state of himself.
But, to avoid the look that the prince was giving him and an argument and spoil their nice morning, he relented with a grumble about how 'it really didn't matter and he didn't have to worry because he was fine'. So, he unwrapped the bandage with a soft kiss at the pain from moving and twisting his body to get a good look at it. The blood had clotted and it was no longer bleeding out which was a good sign, but there looked like there was something in there that shouldn't be but Eurion figured he just hadn't cleaned it properly last night. So, taking the rag and some water, he gently dabbed at it until he thought it was gone and wrapped himself.
For the two of them, the short interaction wasn't anything new, especially for in the morning. After spending every moment of their lives together since conception, they really had no care for class or being gentle with one another. The twins were like two children that were in their 80s. So the prince didn't think much of it or wonder if an only-child like Eurion would be horrified to hear the things they spat at one another at any given moment.
Sláine made sure to watch Eurion to make sure that he was tending to his wound, and not just saying he will to pacify the prince and get him to turn his back to dress. He hummed in approval when Eurion did in fact unwrap and clean the wound, and kissed the back of the man's neck in a gentle thanks, then finally left the man be to sort himself out. It took a bit of strategic and patient combing to get Sláine's hair to lay normally once again, with tangles threatening his patience and wayward strands that demanded he acknowledge the cause for such destruction. It really had been a bad idea to delay leaving with such an activity, but bad ideas weren't necessarily regretful ones, and the prince had loved every second of it—even the moments he complained. Honestly, it was a miracle that Eurion put up with his shit with how much he complained about things.
And, of course, he had forgotten about Solise. It wasn't uncommon for her to know things she shouldn't about him, but she was respectful enough to leave the area whenever anything remotely private popped up. Sláine made a mental note to thank her for covering for his ass and claiming that he and Eurion were dealing with their wounds instead of doing other things that were much less acceptable for being late. She had likely gone to bother Caoimhe and Aideen while Sláine and Eurion made their morning interesting. The spirit could be such an unforgiving bitch sometimes, but the prince couldn't deny that she had his back and wasn't a snitch. Maybe he should sneak her some extra treats when he could.
Once Sláine got his hair situated, and gave up on the flush decreasing at less than a snail's pace, he tossed his pants aside and pulled on his travel clothes, still pouting about it. He would've really liked to have spent some time cuddling peacefully with Eurion afterwards, not being forced to get up and move around in preparation for not touching each other for hours on end.
Eurion rewrapped the wound once he was semi-satisfied with the cleaning. He was sure if Sláine got a better look he wouldn't be too impressed but the preince was too busy trying to fix the mess that they had made to really notice too much. The assassin couldn't help but feel proud of how dishevelled he had managed to get Sláine with just a few pointed touches and kisses combined, although, he probably had been looking fairly flushed himself when they were done, but Eurion didn't pay attention to that. He was quick to make sure he was dressed and all his things were in order. He didn't want anything to be left behind, no weapons or clothes, especially Sláine's clothes because he didn't know how the prince would react to his things being left behind. Although, the pants that Eurion had been wearing had a bit of a stain on the front which was a giveaway of what they had been doing.
But, everything was in order, and finally, they were ready to go. At least Eurion was at least, with his bow and bag around his shoulders and all the daggers accounted for. It was a shame to have to leave their little bubble so soon. It would have been quite lovely just to stay there, content for the rest of the day cuddling and having fun with no fear about the rest of the world intruding on their little bubble of peace. It would have been nice, great even, but reality always had a way of pulling them back to the present and ruining all the moments they seemed to have together. But, at least they had had this morning, and they would hopefully have later tonight.
"Are you ready?" He asked, resisting the urge to wrap Sláine in his arms and give him a hug, to keep the prince there for longer, just the two of them. It was tempting, and as he watched the other dress and made himself presentable he had to look away to prevent himself from kissing him again and delaying them even further. Unfair, all of this was unfair and life was unfair and Eurion wanted to complain just as Sláine had done but he kept those thoughts to himself for now. He made a mental note to ask Caoimhe if they had any more painkillers left over from last night, otherwise this journey was going to be too long.
