Warnings: Implied superstition of sex magic, multiple discussions of consent despite explicit consent, multiple references to sex, magic
Kiriha woke the morning after his sixteenth birthday to his curtains drawn and his head pounding. Had he actually tried to drink? He dropped his head back out of view and he almost snapped into someone's forearm. He nearly scrambled back until he caught sight of brown locks wrapped over bare, tan skin. His face burned. No, no, he hadn't tried to drink. He was just thirsty from the night before.
Last night had been his coming of age ceremony. Last night, he had met his fellow prince as an official, as an equal . And there was said prince, deeply asleep and peaceful looking, with no clothes on. Like a child. Like they weren't both children.
He swore, then froze. The prince's face rippled at the sound, and then softened again into sleep. He edged away from the sheets, rubbing his aching head.
Well. Damn it. Now what? His parents were long gone. He had been advised on retainers since childhood, advised by smarmy older siblings and sniffling council members who saw sex as an important step to maturity and also something he didn't need to understand. A process that was ritualistic and necessary.
Kiriha hardly thought it was necessary.
He went to get his bath things. Everyone had to leave the presence of the magic child who came of age alone for the day, lest they lash out with the new power. Well, he didn't feel any right now, just achy and hungry. Of course, his brothers and sisters would never think of telling him that. Why ruin the disappointment?
His eyes watched the prince's chest rise and fall, who probably had a name they had forgotten to tell him during the connection ceremony, noticed the red of the speech-denial collar from a backwater country that demanded magic without words, saw the magic flicking wisps around fingertips.
Where had they gotten this guy from?
Why a guy, anyway? There were plenty of girls in the other kingdoms. He had to marry. Why not do it all at once? His brothers had probably told him why, but he hadn't been listening. It was easy to tune them out after a while. Too many years of hearing them calling him a weakling even though his fire was closer to white than blue.
He wondered what this kid's magic was. Probably something to do with flame. A ward had to be supportive, according to this stupid treaty. Or maybe it was water.
Could be sex magic, he thought. His face heated and he shook his head. Nope, not going there. Not this soon. He grunted softly and went to the bathroom, to the smooth stone of the tub. He turned on the water with careful finger taps, letting stray bursts of blue flames dance at his wrists and waft over the tub. Scalding, it needed to burn, needed to boil and make him blister.
He shook his head. "Regular water's fine," he told himself. Though he didn't complain when the pleasurable warmth flooded over his body. His shoulders sagged with relief. For a while, he reveled in the quiet, listening to the dripping of the taps. As he went for soap, however, he alighted on a moving figure in his bedroom.
The prince. He'd left them alone. Him. Damn it.
"In here," he called, watching the figure with one blue eye open. They were sitting up in bed. The collar glittered in the light through the curtains. Even from here, Kiriha could see a messy mop of brown hair, dark skin. The eyes were covered by their bangs. A haircut was probably needed for the poor guy.
"You have to treat them like you want to be treated yourself," he mimicked under his breath. One of his mother's last lectures before bandits and a ruined horse. Thankfully. It had sunk in more than his father's obsession with his youngest son's lack of strength. He just hadn't looked, clearly.
When the other young man didn't move, Kiriha grimaced and shifted in the tub. Was the guy deaf too? He didn't remember last night at all and guilt stabbed him at the thought. What if he had hurt the guy? Made him cry? They couldn't make sounds because of that stupid collar. He needed to get it removed immediately, free him as soon as possible. Now that the adults had no choice but to at least look in his general direction anyway. He didn't even know the sign of consent from this, though he was pretty sure it was mouthed and signed six times, over and over in front of his face. That country's laws didn't apply here, and now that they were both of age, he should get to have it removed.
You could be powerful without collars. His father had taught him that much that made sense. He wiped his brow. This was still awkward as the lust circle of hell though. Were you really not supposed to remember the whole thing or had his brothers given him the more dangerous drink in his cup?
"Hey," he called again. The other's head snapped to look at him. Kiriha expected fear, but the irises remained visible, pupils their normal size. No trembling mouth or body. Only the mild curiosity of the sleep-disoriented. Wonderful. "Could you come over here?"
After the words left his mouth, he caught himself with a scowl. He was supposed to sound more commanding than that. It was reassuring.
If the prince noticed, they didn't seem to care, walking over with the sheet around them. It was probably to make up for the lack of towels. Kiriha made a mental note for more. The terror was still nowhere in sight. Their footsteps were quick and bright, like a tap dancer's. Was that who they had been before he had ended up here? A dancer for the stage that didn't want his title? He wondered if the guy would ever tell him.
Or if he deserved to know.
Dark fingers tapped against the stone of the tub and the grey eyes were intent on him now., and dangerously close Kiriha coughed. His face heated up again, and it had nothing to do with the temperature of the water.
Kiriha grimaced. He hadn't thought this through. "You need a wash up." He moved to heat the water again. "Join me." He barely stopped the please.
There was a tiny rasping noise, and then the sheet fell to the floor. Kiriha tried not to look, but his eyes caught a glimpse of the symbols written into the collar. Taiki, they read, in what little he could grasp of the language.
Well, at least he had a name.
The prince -Taiki, he was going to be stuck with the guy for the rest of his life, the least he could do was remember the guy's name- lifted his hands. Kiriha's eyes snapped open, waiting for the signs. He expected words of hate and anger, but the lazy smile on the other's face…
Well. He could remember now.
He shouldn't be embarrassed. He really shouldn't. This was a fellow prince. There was no need to be embarrassed. It was stupid.
'Next time, we'll both be a little less tipsy," the other signed, laughing in silence. 'And you won't hit your head on the bed
Kiriha decided in that moment that he was never getting drunk again.
A/N: So this is pretty weird. I wrote this out of some sort of dull curiosity I think? Well, it's been stuck in my head. So here it is!
Challenges: Digimon Non-Flash Bingo 840 - character: Aonuma Kiriha, Pairing Diversity Boot Camp prompt 19, consent, AU Diversity Boot Camp prompt 18, unhealthy (hierarchy! AU), Diversity Writing prompt D26. Write using the in medias res device, 28 Days of Love Day 7, and Advent Calendar 2016 day 4. Post a fic for a DFC challenge.