Cover my eyes, cover my ears, tell me these words are a lie. It can't be true that I'm losing you; the sun cannot fall from the sky. Can you hear heaven cry? Tears of an angel.
Set was crushed by Kisara's death, leaving him feeling like a broken man inside. Of course he hid the pain as much as he could, smothered it with anger, a desire for revenge, and a lust for power with which to exact his revenge. Some part of him deep down refused to acknowledge that she was gone forever, that he'd never see her again. He withheld all of his mourning, suppressing the sorrow, the tears, the pain, until Atem died too. That was enough to push him over the edge, to force open the floodgates of emotion he'd tried to stonewall forever. He grieved for the pharaoh and for his beloved, aching with a loss he didn't know how to cope with.
Stop every clock, stars are in shock. The river would run to the sea. I won't let you fly, I won't say goodbye, I won't let you slip away from me. Can you hear heaven cry? Tears of an angel.
Pharaoh Set had managed to find solace in the arms of his slave. The youth had flowing white hair and clear blue eyes, much like the lost Kisara, and a purity of heart that mimicked hers as well. His presence was Set's way of rebelling against her loss. If the gods decided to take her away from him, then he'd find someone just like her to take her place. He'd given the slave a permanent position as his personal paramour, with strictly enforced rules that nobody else was to lay a finger on him. He'd lost his first love, he wasn't going to lose this one too.
As such, he was incredibly pissed off when a servant turned treacherous, bribed by an unknown adviser, and attempted to kill the youth. It must have been an adviser, for they'd all frowned upon Set's affair and encouraged him to find a wife and produce heirs. Set had ordered for the traitor to be tortured until the mastermind of the plot was extracted from him. Servants tended to be weak-minded, so he wouldn't hold out for long. The whole fiasco had made him that much more eager to see the boy that night, if only to make sure that he was truly alright.
Ryo closed his eyes as the pharaoh kissed him hungrily, pushing him down until he was flat on his back. Ryo tangled his fingers in Set's dark hair, flushing as the kilt he wore was removed and tossed aside. When their lips broke apart, Set's eyes were even more intense than usual, fixed on Ryo's face with an unfathomable expression. Ryo had spent much time with the pharaoh, and he was probably the only person the former priest felt comfortable being vulnerable with, but there was still so much about the man that he had yet to understand. Set pressed his lips to Ryo's forehead in a tender gesture that made the boy blush, then trailed his lips to the panting boy's ear to gently nibble on it.
"Are you sure you're alright after what happened today?" he murmured, the concern in his voice touching Ryo's heart.
"Yes, I'm fine. He barely lay a finger on me." He had a slight bruise on his arm, but he'd escaped the attempt on his life otherwise unscathed, which was more than he'd dared to hope for.
"He will pay dearly for his crimes," Set growled aggressively with such anger in his voice that Ryo barely restrained himself from flinching. He knew that Set hated it when he expressed any fear of him. "I'm not going to hurt you, you don't have to be afraid of me," he'd assured the slave in the first week of their acquaintance. Ryo couldn't help that the instincts he'd acquired before coming into the Pharaoh's service had him on edge in expectancy of a blow or strike. He was trying to change that reaction, though. He had gotten better, but he was still a work in progress. Ryo slid his hands over his master's bare chest in appreciation of the tanned skin and toned muscles, admiring his master's body and the potent masculinity it contained.
"Don't think of that now," Ryo pleaded softly. He wanted Set to be happy, and that was his job, wasn't it? He hooked his ankles behind Set's, pushing on his shoulders as he rolled the surprised pharaoh underneath him on the bed. He smiled teasingly, then lowered his head to brush his lips against Set's with a feather-light touch. When Set tried to deepen the kiss, he pulled back, only to lean in again with another faint touch that elicited a gratifying groan. Ryo teased Set like this for as long as the king could take, the youth's hands busy down below, until finally he seized his slave by the hair and forced their mouths to meet fully. Ryo opened his eagerly, tongue sliding out to met Set's in a warm, wet dance.
When they broke for breath, Ryo leaned down to whisper in his ear, just as Set had done to him: "What do you need?"
"I need it now," Set grunted, his body flushed with heat and trembling with desire to exercise his passion.
Ryo smiled, pleased with the answer. He reached down and finished fully removing Set's clothes, and as he tossed them over the edge of the bed, he let out a squeak of surprise as Set regained dominance, his blue eyes alight with an inner fire. He stared down at the boy who lay there, so ready and willing to offer his body to his king even when it meant pain for himself.
Set always felt guilty when he was too desperate with need to prepare him, always making up for it as best he could the following night. He tried to keep those occasions to a minimum, especially since he'd promised the boy that he had no intention of hurting him. He took a deep, steadying breath, then reached for the oil at the bedside.
"Master," Ryo murmured, about to tell him that he shouldn't worry about the slave's pain, so long as he got the release he craved. The look Set threw at him silenced the white-haired boy, though, and he proceeded to oil his hands and begin to prepare the boy for penetration. He would have liked to do so longer, but his own body was being especially insistent tonight. He gripped Ryo's hips tightly and thrust into him as the youth cried out.
Set collapsed on top of Ryo with a groan, closing his eyes as the two men tried to catch their breath. Set kissed the flushed skin of Ryo's chest, watching its gentle rise and fall until it had returned to a normal pace. He slid off of his partner until he was at his side, then put an arm around him and pulled him close. The low sound of pain that Ryo tried and failed to suppress sent a shock of regret through Pharaoh Set's chest.
"I didn't mean for it to hurt," he rasped, only to have his lips still by Ryo's pale finger and warm smile.
"Master, you don't know how kind you are," he murmured, aqua eyes round and dewy in a way that softened Set's heart all over again. "So many would have hurt me more and cared less than you do." He let his hand fall from Set's lips to his chest, pressing it against his rapidly beating heart.
Set simply kissed his forehead and settled himself more comfortably among the blankets beside his male concubine. "Ryo, call me Set," he muttered off-handedly.
"Pardon?" Ryo answered, confused. He'd heard the words, but not understood what he meant.
"When we're like this," he whispered, his voice rough even as he sought to convey tender emotions, "You can call me Set."
Ryo was a little stunned, and he felt his heart burn with delight. With a smile, he nuzzled his head against his lover's chest and let himself drift off into sleep, but not before murmuring, "Sweet dreams, Set."