Holland closed his eyes as he tugged the cloth over his eyes. When he opened them, his eyelashes were pressed down by the blindcloth, and all he could see was blackness.
He swallowed and tried to relax. The bed was stable and soft under his back. He knew the royal chambers were safe.
He felt Kell move, and, as if in reaction to Holland's expression, fingers brushed Holland's cheek. Holland instinctively turned his head to press into the touch, craving the feel of skin on skin. His lips grazed the palm of Kell's hand.
As always, the lingering scent of blood clung to Kell's skin. Holland could smell it, thick in his nose; could feel the magic sparking, smearing on his skin; could hear Kell's breath come faster. Blood was power, and Holland could taste Kell's. It made his heart pound, moving him to action. Holland knew Kell could sense the same from him, if only they were closer.
So Holland reached out, curling his hand into Kell's hair, and tugged him forward. Their chests collided clumsily. There, Holland thought. When there was nothing between their bodies, they could feel each other's power pulsing through their veins. It connected them like nothing else.
Sometimes it still caught Holland off guard, how Kell knew what he wanted, before even Holland himself knew. Like now, when he suddenly felt Kell kiss him. His mouth was warm, and Holland cupped the back of Kell's head, holding him closer just to feel that warmth, the life buzzing under Kell's skin.
Kell finally pulled away with a gasp, but he was still close by; Holland could feel his breath hot against his cheek.
"You're so beautiful like this," Kell said, in a low voice, with the solemn conviction that almost made Holland want to believe him. The absurdity of the statement usually made him laugh. It might have been years ago but Holland still couldn't look at his own skin without seeing it bruised and bloody, all the life draining away. And him unable to do anything.
But here, with the blindfold, he could pretend he deserved this.
Holland lifted his chin expectantly, and felt Kell's mouth, then his tongue, on the hollow of his neck. He shuddered, and had to force himself not to wrap his arms around Kell's body and pull him tight to him, when he felt Kell's mouth move downwards, to the scars on Holland's chest.
He could feel Kell hesitate, and Holland immediately shook his head. "Keep going," he insisted, voice already getting rough.
He heard Kell exhale, quiet, and then Kell's thumbs were stroking over Holland's hip. The scars there were smaller, but angrier (they had not been allowed to heal before being sliced open again and again and again) and when Kell placed his mouth over Holland's hipbone and kissed it, Holland thought he might burst. He also wanted more.
"It's very annoying when you worry," he said.
"I know," Kell said. Holland could picture his expression, a frown that narrowed both his black eye and blue eye. "I just . . ."
"I'm not going to break," Holland said, then amended with a smirk, "At least no more than I have already."
As he predicted that was enough to move Kell into action, and Holland groaned when Kell's mouth, hot and wet and so, so good, descended onto his cock.
Holland felt Kell's hand curl over the base of his cock. He struggled to keep his hips pressed to the bed, to not push up into the warmth of Kell's mouth. Holland was good at controlling himself. But this was something else.
He felt Kell's tongue move down, slow, almost smugly laving over the side of his cock. Kell knew what he was doing to him. Holland grit his teeth. What an insufferable -
Kell's hand began to stroke over the base of his cock, and Holland squeezed his eyes shut, desperate to not ruin this. His skin did not flush easily, he knew, but what with the way he felt, Holland thought he must be pink all over, or at least on the tips of his ears, his chest.
His stomach tightened when he suddently felt Kell's mouth close over the head of his cock, and he could not help but buck his hips, forcing his cock deeper into Kell's mouth. He heard a startled choke in response.
"Oh," Holland said, forcing himself to lay flat again. He felt a panic starting to rise in him, and he forcibly pressed it back down. "Are you -"
"I don't mind," Kell assured, sounding - Holland wasn't sure, but Kell sounded pleased with himself. Then his lips wrapped back around Holland's cock. Holland found himself almost smiling. Over a year since they'd defeated Osaron and Holland had gone into hiding, and they were still learning new things about each other.
Holland panted, grasping the bedsheets desperately as Kell let him fuck into his mouth. Holland wished he could see. But he could still imagine: Kell's lips stretched wide, his blue eye dark and unfocused, his chest rising and falling with every erratic breaths.
Kell's other hand had come to clutch Holland's leg, tight enough to bruise. Holland ached to know Kell's expression. Holland was close. He wondered if Kell knew too.
His face, his skin - it would look so good, covered in his come. So beautiful. His prince. My prince.
As Holland came, he felt Kell's hand tighten on his leg, as if grounding them both. Holland blinked, his vision still cut off by the blindfold, and tried to catch his breath.
Then he noticed that Kell was also panting. "Did you already," Holland said, in between breaths, "did you come too?"
Kell's breath hitched slightly, and Holland knew the answer before Kell said, "Yes."
However out of breath, Holland still smirked and propped himself up on the pillows. Even blindfolded, he could enjoy Kell's embarrassment. "How?"
"I couldn't help it," Kell muttered. "You looked - I had to touch myself."
Holland drew his legs up, and dipped his finger in the come that had dripped all over his thighs. "You've certainly made a mess."
The bed shifted and Kell was suddenly near, his shoulder pressed to Holland's. "We can clean it up later."
Holland rolled his eyes, even if Kell wouldn't see. "Take off this blindfold."
The warmth from Kell's body against his seemed to blaze. "You're capable of doing that yourself. I don't see why I have to."
Holland smiled as he felt Kell tug the cloth over his eyes off, and he blinked hazily up at Kell's somewhat disgruntled face, which looked especially lovely after seeing nothing for so long. "Why do you think I keep you around?" he said softly, brushing Kell's sweaty hair off his forehead.
Kell reddened, and when he surged down to kiss him, Holland felt it was rather harder than necessary.
Written for labocat, Yuletide 2017. I really appreciate feedback!