Drabble 16: Sybarite – Trappings
1 [from the notorious luxury of the Sybarites] : VOLUPTUARY, SENSUALIST
The early morning air was crisp with the clean, sharp bite of frost. Radditz turned and settled back against the plump pillows, cradling the warm figure in his arms as he gazed out the window. The lodge had a gorgeous, panoramic view of the snowy landscape.
Inside, the bedroom was cozy and silent, save for their soft rhythmic breathing – their private world. Short thick candles stumps lay scattered on the mantle, the air still fragrant with their intoxicating scent. Delicate silver plates and fluted glasses lay scattered on the floor, remnants of their indulgence the night before, where they had lounged in front of a crackling fire and fed each other exotic sweetmeats, affectionate endearments and other delicacies.
Radditz smiled in twinned envy and appreciation as he lifted a leg and ran it lightly along the bed linen; shimmery satin coverlets in a green so dark it was almost black. He remembered the delicious slide of naked skin upon smooth fabric as they writhed on the bed, the chilly air and heated bodies providing yet another sensual juxtaposition of sensations. He also remembered the military issued serviceable white cotton of his narrow cot and wondered how he can go back after a weekend of satin sheets and silky prince.
His family was not poor, but he had never experienced such decadent indulgence before. While the young man in his arms grew up amidst this, with all these sensual luxuries as his birthright.
And he would never want his prince to know anything else.
He turned his attention back down to the teenage royal. Vegeta was curled up against his side, a leg thrown over his and face burrowed into his chest. With his hair ruffled in sleep, carmine lips swollen and creamy skin covered in reddish love bites, he looked thoroughly debauched.
Said teenager stirred and yawned. "Thirsty."
Slipping out of bed automatically at the petulant command, the bodyguard padded across the lushly carpeted floor and poured a glass of water.
"Cold too. Shirt please." Another sleepy demand.
"Spoiled brat." Lips twisting in exasperation, Radditz opened the closet and blindly reached in. His fingers skimmed momentarily over the soft fabrics before settling on a silky undershirt that probably cost his week's pay. Vegeta expected nothing but the best.
"You truly are a sybarite, Vegeta." Radditz watched as the younger drank, mesmerized by the flexing motion of the slender throat.
"Nothing wrong with that." Pulling the shirt over his head, Vegeta tugged him down. "Now back to bed."
Radditz obeyed.
The bewitching prince was the finest, most luscious luxury of all. Vegeta was so slim and firm, and he smelled like expensive cologne and darkest chocolates, smooth and heady. If he were on a menu, you couldn't ask the price.
'I could get used to this lifestyle,' Radditz carded his fingers through the soft, black spikes fondly. Jumbled amused thoughts and memories lulled him to sleep. 'I'm more of a sybarite than you; addicted to the most sensual treasure of all.'
(500 words)