Prompt: This ship has taken over my LIFE and there is almost no content of them and I'm dying. I just want sometching really smutty (preferably with Apollo on top) and also sweet. Everything else is up to you. I will love you forever.


Coming Home

From as far back as he could remember, Apollo had always thought of Nahyuta as beautiful. He remembers how everything about Nahyuta seemed to shine — the silvery lustre of lavender hair, the brilliance of piercing green eyes, the luminous sheen of porcelain skin. He remembers growing out his hair, then realizing the look suited Nahyuta, but not him, so he cut it all off again. He remembers thinking Queen Amara must be gorgeous because Nahyuta didn't look much like Dhurke at all. What he doesn't remember is when Nahyuta became his personal standard of beauty. It wasn't till they met again that he realized he had been subconsciously comparing people to Nahyuta to decide whether they were beautiful.

Where they grew up, the summer sun seared even with the cool mountain air — perfect weather for splashing in the river and playing tag nude through the open grassland on this mountainside while their clothes dried off. He can't remember when they stopped… probably after Dhurke saved them both from drowning and they stuck to safer waters.

The grass is longer now, but sitting out here where they used to play, it's easy to remember those idyllic days. Back before Dhurke was killed, back when this had been their home, back when they had been a family…

"Do you really have the time to be sitting idle out here?"

"N—Nahyuta!" (Speak of the devil…) He doesn't have to ask how his old friend found him.

The white sash floating behind the monk seems to slowly twist in a loop if he stares at it, but that's… impossible, right? The ends aren't connected. Then again, it shouldn't be possible for it to float like that either…

Nahyuta forms a familiar mudra with his hands, and a butterfly alights on his fingertips as he shakes his head with an exasperated sigh. "Were you not just complaining about your case load and backlog?"

Apollo slumps, grimacing. "Give me a break, Nahyuta. The words are blurring on the page."

Instead of chiding Apollo like he would in court, however, the prosecutor sits down beside him. "It was…" Nahyuta grips the dragon tattoo on his palm that he now wears openly. "…selfish of me to ask this of you."

Apollo shakes his head and insists, "It was my choice to stay. You never said it would be easy."

"If only Ga'ran hadn't executed or chased out all the lawyers, you would have had some help. And to think I was complicit in her machinations…" The other's expression is pained. "I pray the Holy Mother forgives this taint on my soul."

(Nahyuta…) "If only she hadn't completely mangled the legal system, we wouldn't have to do this, you mean." He shakes his head again. "None of this was your fault. You only did what any older brother would have done."

"Ah… Her Benevolence doesn't seem to agree. Every time she sees me, she's so angry, she splutters and calls me Braid Head."

That cracks Apollo up —Nahyuta has completely misunderstood; (guess Ema was right about his people skills)— but his laughter gets him a dragon glare, and Nahyuta smacks him with his prayer beads.

"Only a truly putrid mind would find humor in—"

"Objection! You've got it all wrong." He tries to quell his laughter with little success. It feels good though — he needed that. Now, if only he could get Nahyuta to smile and laugh like that again, too… "It's just… you can't expect Her Benevolence to adjust so quickly to having an older brother. She's probably just flustered, knowing how much you care about her."

"I… I see. I suppose you may be right. May the Holy Mother guide us to more harmonious relations."

Apollo is rewarded with a small smile, and for a moment, he forgets to breathe. He never thought it possible before, but when he first saw Nahyuta in the United States, he was struck by how much more beautiful the other had grown.

"…instead."

Apollo shakes himself. "Sorry, what did you say?"

The gold hoops adorning Nahyuta's ears jingle as he shakes his head. "As ever, you are a screamer, not a listener."

"Wh— Objection!" Apollo feels the heat rise in his cheeks as Nahyuta flinches away. "D—do you even know what that means?"

"Heh." He smirks with a tilt of his head. "You know perfectly well that Khurainism does not require vows of celibacy."

He says it matter-of-factly, calm, but those vague words make Apollo's bracelet tighten, and the sharp twist of jealousy takes him by surprise. (Get a grip, Justice. Now you're being irrational.) Nahyuta's sex life is none of his business, and considering they grew up as brothers, he should be happy Nahyuta wasn't always lonely and outcast. But that last day before Dhurke took him to the States…

"Nahyuta, why can't you come along?"

Sitting on an outcropping behind their house, his head on Nahyuta's shoulder as they gazed out over the valleys below, Apollo never wanted to leave.

"Unlike you, my parents are not American."

As ever, Nahyuta showed no emotion as he stated the fact. It was always hard to tell what he was really thinking.

"Will you miss me?"

Waist-length lavender hair cascades over Nahyuta's shoulder as he turns to say, "Yes, of course," with a sad smile, and Apollo's bracelet doesn't react.

The move leaves their faces barely an inch apart, and Apollo finds himself thinking of the pairs of people he'd seen at the bazaar the last time he visited the town — they'd held each other's hands and pressed their lips together. He was told they did that because they loved each other.

Well, he certainly loves Nahyuta.

Green eyes widen when their lips touch, but Nahyuta doesn't pull away, and his lips are softer than they look.

Then they move and bump noses a—

"Apollo, if you keep this up, you will find yourself in the Hell of Echoes, mute but always hearing the sounds and voices you fear most, as punishment for never listening in this world."

"Ack, sorry." He scratches the back of his head with a sheepish chuckle. "I was lost in thought." In truth, they had neither parted nor reunited on very brotherly terms.

"I noticed. As I said, a screa—"

"Stop saying that!"

Nahyuta chuckles then, just like when they were kids, and it feels natural to lean into his side. The other reciprocates, and for a moment, it feels like no time has passed. Lavender hair is downy soft on his cheek, and Nahyuta still smells of the fresh-cut grass and flowers of that spring afternoon.

Reaching out, Apollo traces the tattoo on Nahyuta's palm where it rests on his knee, the dragon that binds them together. If only Dhurke could see them like this now, rebuilding Khura'in's legal system together like he wished…

"Apollo…"

He jerks away. "I—I'm fine!" But he chokes up on the words, and Nahyuta lets out another exasperated sigh.

"I told you I am wise to your tricks, Apollo," the prosecutor chides. "I might not always call your bluff, but do not let that fool you into thinking that I cannot tell when you are bluffing."

To Apollo's surprise, Nahyuta wraps an arm around him and pulls him to rest his head on the taller man's shoulder, the way he'd always comforted Apollo as children — Apollo wishes there did not exist photographic evidence proving that he had been shorter from the beginning, and their height difference has only grown.

"Is… this… acceptable?" It's been so many years, after all.

But like this, it's just like old times. Sure, Dhurke was the one rescuing him, the reliable dad who always had his back, but when the bad things had gone away and he'd been suitably patched up, it was always Nahyuta's gentleness that soothed him. And whenever Nahyuta fell sick, it would be his chance to return the favor — illness tended to hit Nahyuta rarely, but especially hard. Although they were only a year apart, Nahyuta insisted on being the responsible older brother and tried to help take care of Apollo, so it wasn't often that their roles were reversed, but they shared a room for many years and, by preference, often even a bed. Even after all these years, this closeness is comforting, and he hadn't realized how much he'd missed it.

Apollo buries his face in Nahyuta's high collar and nods. "I'll be fine." If he keeps saying it, he will be —it's always worked before— but nowadays, it also makes him think of Clay, and that pain has dulled but never gone away. "I'll be fine," he repeats, but he relaxes and lets the tears fall.

Instead of telling him to let it go and move on the one time it might actually be good advice, Nahyuta murmurs an apology. "I never gave you the time to mourn him. In the end, you were closer to him than I was. Even this mark, it should be on your hand. It is you who has inherited his spirit."

"That's not true, and the proof is your present success. Despite all the prejudice you faced, you never gave up." He covers the tattooed hand with his own and laces their fingers. "That mark is where it should be."

The way Nahyuta looks at him says he disagrees, but doesn't think it worth arguing now. "If you wish, I could ask Mother…" he offers instead, voice trailing off in hesitation, and "Do you want to?" Apollo asks — in truth, Nahyuta had had even less closure.

The other closes green eyes and seems to give the matter some thought, then lifts his free hand into the prayer mudra and whispers words Apollo mostly doesn't understand. It wasn't too hard to relearn vernacular Khurainese now that he's living here again, but he never studied the classical Khurainese of the Scriptures.

(Who are you praying for, Nahyuta? Yourself or Dhurke?)

At length, Nahyuta admits, "Perhaps that would be good for us both… and Her Benevolence as well."

(Yeah… it might be good for Queen Rayfa to talk to her real father, too.) But Apollo's distracted now — just like that day, their lips are barely an inch apart, and— (Was there someone? Is there someone?)

He shifts closer and sighs in happy relief when Nahyuta closes the rest of the distance. "Was" doesn't matter — it's not like Apollo didn't see anyone while they were apart either, and it's surprising, even, how easy it is to remember those feelings now. But despite taking the initiative, Nahyuta flounders when Apollo deepens the kiss, like… like (He doesn't know what to do!) Encouraged by the realization, Apollo cups Nahyuta's cheek, sliding his fingers into lavender hair as he caresses the other's tongue with his own, and the hand holding his tightens. Porcelain skin is flushed when they part, green eyes dilated and half-lidded, and oh.

"Is this how you are with strangers, Prosecutor Sahdmadhi?" Apollo teases with his cockiest grin.

Nahyuta blinks, then looks away in chagrin as memory serves. "I see. I hurt your feelings, so you are… getting back at me."

Right. Apollo should have known better than to expect him to get it and play along. "You did," he replies seriously, guiding Nahyuta to face him with his hand on the other's cheek. "But no, I wasn't. I know why you said that, and I know you didn't mean it."

Smirking suddenly, Nahyuta leans into his touch. "But I did. It is time we got reacquainted; don't you agree, Mr. Justice?"

(Urk… who's playing whom now?)

Before he can protest, Nahyuta presses their lips together again, confidently guiding him to lie back on the grassy ground, but he has a feeling that he's on the right track here— Nahyuta has never done anything like this before and is simply faking it.

Still, "Here? Won't we be seen?" Apollo gasps between kisses as deft fingers undo the buttons on his vest.

The other pauses, earrings brushing his cheek. "Who else would know to look here?"

It's true — this was their playground, near where Dhurke lived in hiding; the people of Khura'in rarely had cause to come out here, which was why Dhurke chose the place.

"Oh, I suppose, since you're regent now," Apollo murmurs, eliciting a gasp as he pulls the prince flush to press their hips together, "they'll just look the other way and pretend not to see you frolicking in the fields anyway."

Rolling his hips, Nahyuta bites back a moan, but Apollo doesn't. "How unenlightened to think rulers above the law and beyond reproach. Still, perhaps a blow to client confidence will lighten your case load as you wish."

"With all the free advertising you're all doing? Unlikely," he retorts, breathless, working on the elaborate white coat. "Besides, it's not like they have any alternatives." He tugs Nahyuta's hair-tie off.

"Apollo."

Nahyuta frowns sternly as the braid comes undone to blanket them in soft lavender waves, but before he can continue, Apollo combs his fingers through silken strands, fingertips dragging over the other's scalp. Nahyuta melts against him with a sigh, and he smiles fondly — he used to do this whenever Nahyuta had trouble sleeping, and he's glad some things haven't changed.

When Apollo tugs at the red scarf, the other brushes his hands away and unpins it, mumbling something about how he'll damage it. He trails kisses down the exposed neck, sliding his hands under the lavender dress shirt to touch bare skin, and Nahyuta's breath hitches. He pushes the red vest off Apollo's shoulders and starts on the buttons of the shirt below when—

A yak grunts.

More yaks echo it, and now Apollo can feel a herd clodding nearer in the ground, but Nahyuta is already rolling off and away.

Right. A herd of yaks must be accompanied by their herder.

He quickly buttons his shirt and vest back up, but when he sits up, he realizes that there's still the problem of Nahyuta's hair.

"Did you find it, Apollo?" the other asks suddenly, louder than usual and with a pointed look in green eyes — (Play along, Justice.)

"Uh…" He scratches his head. "No…?" (What are we supposed to be talking about anyway?!)

Nahyuta sighs dramatically, gathering his hair to the side and into his lap. "All is as the Holy Mother wills it. I shall simply have to make do."

"Ah! My Lord! And Mr. Justice! Happiraki!" The yak herder runs over to form the traditional triangle with his fingers and bow low.

They return the greeting, and Nahyuta calmly explains their presence here —he was looking for Apollo when his hair-tie snagged on a twig of some sort and broke, so for now, he was going to retie it with his red neck scarf instead because neither of them can find it— as Apollo surreptitiously slips the hair-tie wound around his fingers into his pocket to hide. He's glad for the cover of long grass, but he still sits, loosely hugging his knees as the monk says a prayer for the herder, because he doesn't have a lap full of hair on his side. The man leaves, gushing with gratitude, and Apollo crawls over.

"There's grass in your hair," he says as he tugs a blade out.

"And pray tell whose fault that is," Nahyuta replies flatly as he starts untangling and sectioning it with his fingers.

"Here, I'll help you."

Apollo massages circles into the other's scalp with one hand as he picks bits of grass and twigs out with the other, and Nahyuta leans into him with a soft groan, but only starts rebraiding his hair.

"Will you be coming to the palace tonight?"

Apollo often goes to the palace to work on Khura'in's legal system with Nahyuta, but lately, he's been too busy. Tonight, though, he suspects they won't be writing any laws.

"If you delay the next trial by a day, I probably could," he tries.

"Satorha." Green eyes cut to him, sharp as a blade. "Nice try, red pepper. What kind of professional—"

"Objection! You know perfectly well that I'm not slacking off, Nahyuta! I don't have your memory!"

It's never been proven, but Apollo is convinced Nahyuta has an eidetic memory. His case research is always thorough, and there is no way he could read all of that information more than once in the time frame he has, but he always remembers them in detail regardless of whether they're in the Court Record or his notes. He also heard that Nahyuta memorised the Scriptures of Khurainism in record time and picked up English and a working knowledge of the American legal system surprisingly quickly as well. In fact, according to Ema, Nahyuta seems to have a functional grasp of the local language and legal system in every country they have worked in together so far, which may be part of the reason for his international success. Even as a child he had loved and admired his friend — kind and beautiful Nahyuta who was determined and hardworking and better at everything.

The glare softens, and Nahyuta returns his focus to braiding his hair. "I suppose I could file the paperwork for it tomorrow instead of later," he relents softly, "since there are also pressing administrative matters to attend to."

Apollo grins, pressing a kiss to the regent's temple. "Then I'll see you tonight. I should get some work done in the meantime."


It is long past sunset by the time Apollo makes it to Nahyuta's quarters, but it is well worth the effort when the other greets him in nothing but a robe, hair already down and jewelry already removed. Apollo had wondered if they would make some progress on their project first, but Nahyuta has never been one to mix business with pleasure.

"I was about to bathe," he says, locking the door behind Apollo. "I, myself, returned not long before you arrived."

Grinning, Apollo asks, "Is that an invitation to join you?"

"Do as you please, Apollo," he sighs tiredly. "I have learned that you will rarely be dissuaded from that."

(I wonder what happened…?)

Despite the change in mood, Apollo follows Nahyuta to the bath — it's a pool of steaming water with wide steps for people to choose their preferred depth. Although the water is clear, the steam is fragrant with herbs and flowers, and when Nahyuta drops the robe to enter the nearby shower, Apollo's mouth runs dry. Hurriedly, he shucks the tracksuit he wore over and embraces Nahyuta from behind, trying not to feel self-conscious about his head barely reaching Nahyuta's shoulder when they're standing.

"What happened?" He presses his lips to soft skin where he can reach as the warm water washes over them.

The other tenses — Nahyuta will probably refuse to tell him and make him figure it out on his own as usual, ever one to suffer alone in silence. But until he figures out what it is and how to fix it… He moves around and takes Nahyuta's hands.

"You'll be fine!"

The other starts, then says, "Yes, of course."

"No, no, you need to say it. Try it."

A lavender eyebrow rises. "You mean like your Chords of Steel exercises?"

"Yes! Try it. It really works! I'm Apollo Justice, and I'm fine!"

Nahyuta looks doubtful, but caves in to his earnest, expectant look with another sigh. "I… I'm Nahyuta Sahdmadhi, and I'm fine."

"Oh, c'mon, Nahyuta. I know you can do better than that. Say it like you mean it! Again! I'm Apollo Justice, and I'm fine!"

"I—" Giving up with a huff, Nahyuta shakes his head. "If you simply wished to know what happened, then it is my mother. As ever, she is too kind. She seeks leniency for her sister, but Ga'ran is finally where she can no longer harm anyone, and I think it unwise to change that."

"I completely agree," but that doesn't solve the issue of maternal pressure from the former queen.

Still, Nahyuta only tilts his head and considers Apollo. "I see. That is why you kept repeating that you are fine earlier."

Apollo nods. "A good friend taught me that. It really does work."

"Interesting." Nahyuta sits on the nearby stool, smiling slightly as he works shampoo into his hair. "I should like to meet this friend someday," and Apollo knows from Nahyuta's concerned expression that he didn't manage to keep his face from falling in time.

"He— He um… Clay is… we'd need your mother's help for that, too."

"I see. So he, too, has passed into the Twilight Realm." Nahyuta shakes his head sadly, then clasps Apollo's hands between his, palms together. "May the Holy Mother have mercy on his soul and guide him to Her side."

He continues in classical Khurainese, and as usual, Apollo understands barely a word of it, but he can sense Nahyuta's sincerity, and he's touched, grateful — Apollo has never been religious, but he figures that if spirit channeling and the divination seance are real, then there must be at least some truth to Khurainism. Mostly, however, he thinks that the clergy suits Nahyuta — even as a child, his old friend had always been capable of genuinely caring for total strangers.

Now that Nahyuta is sitting, though, Apollo can finally reach his face, so he leans in for a kiss when the prayer ends. The other responds clumsily but without hesitation, hands dropping to Apollo's hips and moaning when Apollo lathers the shampoo on his head. Green eyes are closed, and Apollo hopes it's feeling rather than suds.

He pulls Nahyuta into a tight hug — like they used to, like he's wanted to for so long now. "I've missed you," he mumbles, trailing kisses along the other's jaw and continuing down that long neck to graceful shoulders. "So very much."

"And I you," Nahyuta sighs into his ear, returning the embrace. "Like I said I would."

He ends up straddling Nahyuta's lap, and the contact surprises him, feeling Nahyuta's cock slide alongside his own. "You remember that." Apollo smiles, fond.

"Naturally."

"So." His smile turns sly as he presses their foreheads together, blocking out the rain of water. "What would you have done if we hadn't bumped noses and Dhurke hadn't come out to get us?"

Eye to eye, he can see the exact moment his friend goes blank — Nahyuta cannot think of anything, even in hindsight.

"Gotcha!" He wags his finger — force of habit. "You've… never really done anything like this before, have you?"

Nahyuta averts his gaze, a confession in itself, but before he can say another word, Apollo closes his hand around their erections and strokes.

"Ahh!"

The cry is Apollo's opening to plunder Nahyuta's mouth, and he does, groaning as he continues, as one of Nahyuta's hands joins his and finds the rhythm. Their eyes drift shut, and he traces the recesses of the other's mouth with the tip of his tongue, both moaning as one when slender fingers follow his example to tease the ridge and head. Nahyuta trembles, kissing back with… desperation, almost, and—

"I'm glad," Apollo breathes over swollen lips. "I'm glad the honor is mine."

"Hngh-ahh— I love you!"

The confession blindsides him, but his body's instant, visceral reaction is the only answer he needs. He comes with a shout, seeing stars as they slump against each other, Nahyuta shuddering through the aftershocks in his arms. He knows he's smiling like a fool, and he should say something, but his brain feels like it has short-circuited, and the words won't come.

"A—Apollo, I…"

"I love you, too," he interjects urgently, before Nahyuta can misunderstand — the details and plans can wait. "It's not— I didn't— but…"

Nahyuta shakes his head, face still buried in his shoulder. "There is a saying here: 'A wise man knows when to speak and when to listen.' But you were never wise." He straightens, tilting his head to meet Apollo's gaze, and this.

This is the truly happy smile Apollo has been longing to see since they met again.

"Well, back in the States, we say: 'Silence is golden, but Justice needs only Chords of Steel!'"

Unimpressed lavender eyebrows rise with a grimace. "You made that up, didn't you?"

"Doesn't matter." He loops his arms around Nahyuta's neck with a grin. "It's true."

"Hmph." But Nahyuta chuckles in fond exasperation and reaches for the soap. "I remember bathing you as a child." He turns the shower off and smooths soap suds over Apollo's skin. "I always ended up in the bath, too, because you always made a complete mess."

Apollo laughs, squeezing water out of long, lavender hair. "Funny. I don't remember you complaining."

He rubs conditioner into damp locks, fingertips sliding along the other's scalp, and Nahyuta hums with pleasure, relaxing into him. He'd always thought Nahyuta's hair was pretty and soft and wanted to touch it, so it hadn't taken long to realize that his friend more than welcomed the contact.

Back before he tried to forget, in the early days after his move to the States, he remembers watching the second half of a cartoon while waiting for one of Clay's favourite space-themed shows to come on and explaining to his new friend that the friend he lived with back home was an exiled prince, just like the guy on screen. Fascinated by the novelty, Clay had eagerly asked for details… only to decide that Apollo's description of Nahyuta seemed far more like a princess in the cartoons Clay's girl cousin often watched than the mighty warrior then doing battle on screen. Now that he knows the specific reference —or so he thinks, thanks to Trucy and Pearl— it's funnier than it should be.

"What's so amusing?" Nahyuta asks at his chuckle.

"Oh, uh… I'm just thinking of how you let down your hair for me," he evades, deciding the details are best left ambiguous.

That nets him a withering look. "I can hardly wash it braided, Apollo."

"Oh, I know."

He pecks Nahyuta on the lips, glad for cultural differences for a change, but the reality is that Nahyuta is a royal, and he has no idea how that will affect things between them. Of course, knowing perfect Nahyuta, the regent has already thought this through, but it'd be nice to be in on it.

Then Nahyuta's hands slide over his chest, and a jolt goes straight down as they brush his nipples. It doesn't escape his lover, who immediately returns his attention to them.

"Interesting." Lightly callused fingertips flick them, and Apollo's knees go weak. "This is new."

"D—do you…?"

He does the same to Nahyuta, who shakes his head with a smirk and turns the shower back on to rinse off. He doesn't stop playing with them, though, simply dips his head under the water to take one nub into his mouth now that the soap is gone. He worries it gently with teeth and tongue, his thumb still circling the other, and Apollo whimpers, hard all over again.

"N—Nahyuta…" but the other only switches sides, and his hips jerk, rutting into his lover's lap with a moan.

Nahyuta turns the tap and half-carries Apollo out of the shower to the bath, setting him down at the water's edge, then slipping into the steaming water. Like this, it's the perfect height, and with all the ruthlessness he displays in court, the prosecutor resumes pursuing his targets.

"Nahyuta…! Hngh!"

Out of nowhere, it seems, the monk produces a circle of prayer beads and winds them multiple times around Apollo's leaking erection.

"Wh— Wha—"

Nahyuta holds up the first three fingers of one hand and whispers something, and Apollo is crying out as the beads constrict. The strength to remain upright leaves him, but Nahyuta holds him up and continues the assault, trying all kinds of things with teeth, tongue, lips and fingers as the beads intermittently tighten, and Apollo clings to him, all "Nahyuta" and "please" and sobs of pleasure.

He's close, and this is all going too quickly, but then Nahyuta scrapes one tip with his teeth and the other with the pad of his thumb in time with the beads' squeeze, and orgasm explodes through him, white-hot.

"A courtroom victory would be more satisfying, but I appear to have proven my case: you are most certainly a screamer."

The prosecutor's expression is still immovably smug, and Apollo is fairly certain the entire palace heard him scream Nahyuta's name, but he cannot bring himself to care. As quickly as they appeared, the prayer beads have vanished, and it's too much effort to wrap his mind around how. Still, he lets his lover tug him forward into the steaming water, and the heat is relaxing, comfortable. Nahyuta reclines on a step with only his head above the water, and Apollo crawls forward through lavender tresses for a kiss.

"That was amazing." Nahyuta has always been a fast learner though. He rubs their noses when they part and settles into his lover's side.

"You still do that?" It had been their way of saying goodnight.

With a shake of his head, Apollo replies, "Only with you. It was ours, the way shouting 'I'm fine' was mine and Clay's before he passed away."

"I see."

They wind their arms around each other, and Apollo can hardly believe that they've come back to this after all this time. He'd tried so hard to forget, thinking Dhurke would never come, and he'd never come back, but… In truth, Nahyuta deserved better —the prince's love and loyalty never wavered— and if Apollo had ended up with someone else… He doesn't know whether they would have regretted it, but he does know one thing: he's going to do his best now to bring Nahyuta the happiness he so richly deserves.

Despite the water, he feels himself drifting off when Nahyuta suddenly sits up. "It's late. We should rest."

Agreeably, Apollo follows him out of the bath, and he's squeezing water out of his hair with a towel when Apollo realizes Nahyuta is still half hard. (Argh… you always… You should have told me,) but he's already leaving the bathing area. He sits at the dresser to blow his hair dry, and Apollo wraps his arms around his lover's waist, inhaling deeply of the scent of his hair and dropping featherlight kisses on his neck and shoulders.

"Ap— Apollo!"

The gasp is part protest, part pleasure as he fists Nahyuta's cock, feeling it swell again as Nahyuta's hips buck, thrusting into his hand. The prince leans back as Apollo nips along his jugular, and if Apollo weren't so spent, the very sight would get him going — Nahyuta looks debauched, erotic, moaning Apollo's name with his eyes closed, and Apollo wants—

He turns his lover on the dresser stool and sinks to his knees between parted legs. Nahyuta starts to ask, but he's already diving in to seal his lips over the head and—

"A—ah, H—Holy Mother, Apollo, I— Hngh-ah-ahh!"

Suction and a swipe of the tongue, and he's gone, back arching with a sharp cry as climax hits, and he spills down Apollo's throat. His knuckles are white from gripping the dresser hard to steady himself, and their eyes meet as Apollo milks him through the aftershocks.

"Will you go back?" he whispers, searching brown eyes, and in a heartbeat, Apollo realizes this is for real.

He turns to press his lips to the silky soft skin of the other's inner thigh, then rests his head there to gaze up adoringly. "I've already chosen you, Nahyuta."

That's not to say he wouldn't go if Mr. Wright and the others needed him, but he'd come back this time. For Nahyuta, he'd come back for sure.

Nahyuta's hands drop to his head to caress his face and hair, and Apollo is content. Nahyuta looks content, too, like he hasn't in too many years, and Apollo hopes this will last.

"Go to bed?"

"Mm." He pecks Nahyuta on the cheek before he goes.

And when the curtain of lavender hair falls over them as Nahyuta slips under the covers beside him, Apollo never thought he'd feel this way here again, but he's home.