10. Chapter Ten
Chapter Ten
Rafi ate to fill his stomach the following two days as well, although his promise had not extended that far.
It wasn’t only that his honor was involved, or that Viau had correctly guessed that the challenge would get him to eat, it was the shamefully pleasing notion that the challenge was Viau’s way to feed him, much like how Laure would fill an extra plate from the kitchen for Katoh before and after her aedis.
Or how Katoh would sit on a cranky Laure the day before his rut came on and insist he at least eat an apple; his perforis was in autumn, and apples were plentiful and one of the few foods he could be coaxed or bullied into eating while in its grip.
It was smart to learn to take care of himself before aedis, Rafi told himself, eyes on the sun in the sky as the days passed.
He would need to manage it on his own in the future, without friends to remind him.
He ate and did his own training but took a break from showing younger students what fights with few rules looked like.
Conscious of how much he sweated as his aedis heightened, he now fully appreciated the healer’s instruction to drink more water, so he did that too.
Then he walked despite the early summer sun making him hotter, though he kept to the shade of the gardens and enclosed corridors where sunlight did not reach.
He told himself he’d eventually go to the healers to arrange for an isolation room.
He never made it there. Even Katoh could not find him as he walked, then paced, and then stopped completely to watch the sky begin to darken as he felt the first pulse.
He hadn’t admitted to himself that he’d been looking forward to Viau’s arrival until it was clear that Viau would not arrive.
When the sky had gone from red to purple, Rafi started his long walk across the grounds, hoping the healers wouldn’t be too annoyed with him for not making arrangements earlier.
The cooler breezes stirred his hair and made him shiver.
He hadn’t yet reached the point of embarrassing physical signs, but he avoided most eyes anyway, knowing he looked like someone gripped by fever.
After that scene with Viau, others might guess the cause, and Rafi was in no mood to deal with comments.
He was in an inner courtyard, scowling at early summer roses which held no trace of spring, when his feet stopped moving and he swayed at the sudden stillness.
He didn’t know why he’d stopped since he wasn’t far enough into his heat to be fooled by the scent of flowers as he had been last time.
But he turned from the roses to follow the breeze, thinking—he hoped rationally—that his body wanted to cool off.
The stone walkways held traces of the day’s warmth, but the air itself was swiftly bringing night.
Then he heard a voice, that voice, and his feet moved faster, bringing him up a flight of steps to another walkway, one that overlooked courtyards and gardens, to where Viau was walking rapidly in the other direction, waving off whoever was speaking to him until that person loudly cleared their throat and pointed toward Rafi.
Viau turned to follow the gesture and fell silent. By then, Rafi was nearly on him, so when Viau stopped too, Rafi kept going until they were close, until they were touching and he could breathe and Viau’s lovely aer settled over him like a blanket.
“Hello, storm cloud.” Viau spoke warmly into his curls and wrapped an arm around Rafi’s back to steady him as though he knew Rafi’s legs were growing shaky. Good, since Rafi hadn’t until that moment. He was suddenly so tired.
“You’re here.” A stupid thing to say, to whine, but Viau stroked his hair and hummed. That felt like something one did to soothe startled animals, but it was nice, so Rafi didn’t remark on it.
“I said two days,” Viau defended himself, lips against Rafi’s brow. “So warm. You were supposed to rest.”
“Viau,” said the other person, whoever they were. Rafi didn’t look at them.
“It will have to wait,” Viau answered, polite but firm. “I’ve found him. Well, he found me. And he needs me now.”
A pulse had Rafi biting his lip to keep from gasping, then shuffling in closer to Viau even though that made him hotter.
“Come on, then.” Viau cooed at him like a nex, gentle and coaxing. “I was hoping to clean up somewhat before… but I doubt you care now, do you?”
Rafi didn’t bother trying to understand the question, burrowing close to breathe in more of the scent that made things less terrible. Viau tightened his hold on him and then Rafi was encouraged to walk, so walk he did, though his legs were slow to move and his thighs were heavy.
Aedis, he remembered, but that wasn’t for him to worry about anymore.
Viau was wearing a bag slung over one shoulder, and a cloak and his sword, all of which were in Rafi’s way, but Viau shushed Rafi’s growls about it and urged him on until they were in a familiar room and Rafi was seated on Viau’s bed once again.
But after petting Rafi until he was still, Viau stepped away and removed the hat Rafi hadn’t even noticed, then his cloak and sword, and then his boots, before he finally came back to the edge of the bed.
“You’re not quite there yet, are you, storm cloud?” he asked, standing above Rafi and stroking his hair while Rafi hid his face in his stomach. “Are you still frowning at me? I wasn’t late.”
Rafi huffed. “Felt late. Worried.”
“Ah. Then I was late and I am sorry. Forgive me. Oh.” A knock on the door took him away from Rafi again, and then people were with them.
Rafi was fully dressed and sweaty though not yet damp, but he turned away from the two bringing in a pitcher of water and a covered tray and didn’t look back at Viau until the others were gone and the door was closed behind them.
He hadn’t heard Viau ask anyone for anything during their journey here, and mournfully wondered how many people had witnessed him pressing himself to Viau this time. But he hadn’t even considered not doing it, despite still being somewhat in his right mind.
Viau brought him a drink of water and requested that he drink it, and then wiped the back of Rafi’s neck with a cool, wet cloth until Rafi finally looked up.
“I forgot to ask you if you’d help me again.” A struggle, but Rafi got the words out.
“I agreed to help you for as long as it took. Though, if we are being strictly honest, you did not ask me the first time, either.” Viau was once again determined to brush every single wayward curl from Rafi’s face. “How close are you?”
Rafi tried to give that serious thought, but ultimately shrugged. “Don’t know how long it took last time. Could’ve been an hour, or several. ’Least an hour,” he decided. “Maybe.”
“Pleasing you now might hasten that, or it might lead to problems on my end. I’m a fairly young miné of good health who will respond to your call, but eventually even we get tired. And I’ve only just arrived. Let me straighten up and attend to some things, and then I’ll attend to you. All right?”
Rafi was sweating on Viau’s bed and soon would be soiling it even worse. But he couldn’t deny that Viau had been busy and had rushed here anyway. So he pressed his lips together and said nothing, not until Viau was stripping his pants away to give himself a wash with the wet cloth.
“Too much?” Rafi faltered and momentarily forgot what he’d intended to say when Viau turned toward him, eyebrows raised, his cock visible beneath his dampened, sticking shirt.
Rafi stared, not sure that he had gotten a clear look before; he’d been desperate to get it inside him at the time and not especially concerned with anything else.
He swallowed and forced his attention back up.
“I mean, did I demand too much before? I can still go.”
“Sit down,” Viau ordered crisply as though Rafi had moved even an inch. “Rest while you can. Are you thirsty? Hungry? Did you eat your dumplings?”
“Viau.” Rafi crossed his arms. “Yes. You shouldn’t have to worry.”
“I am not the one worrying.” Viau tutted at him as he pushed up his shirt to wash under his armpits and down his chest and stomach, then slowed his movements when he realized Rafi was watching.
The last of the sunlight was showing through the windows, but not for much longer.
Which was probably why Viau paused his bathing to go light a candle on his desk.
“Too much?” he finally addressed Rafi’s concern.
“Rafi, this is the sort of thing certain miné dream about—that, and a nice, tight hole.”
Rafi jumped, then felt the first trickle of wet between his legs. Viau might have done that on purpose. Rafi inched his hips forward, then back, trying to be comfortable but also scratch that internal itch.
He watched Viau cross to the windows, opening the panels at the bottom of each to welcome more of the night breezes.
Viau stopped at his desk too, pulling out a pot of ink and a pen to make notations in an open book, and then to sort through a pile of letters that must have accumulated while he was gone.
He sat in the chair to read one of them, looking distinctly annoyed at whatever it said, then reached for the ink again, only to stop and turn to Rafi. He stilled when he found Rafi watching him, his lips parting as he noticed the tiny hitching motions Rafi couldn’t help.
His voice was rough when he spoke.
“Did you want me to undress you now, or did you want to wait? If you can blush, then I assume you want to remain clothed,” Viau added, eyes dark and expression serious. “Though how you can blush with your skin so hot, I don’t know. I would burst into flames.”
“Perforis,” Rafi argued, or hoped he argued, trying to defend himself.