It wasn't that Proteus had never partaken of a little too much alcohol before. After he had turned fourteen, he had discovered he could sentence the boring parties he was required to attend to nothing more than a blur if he drank a little more wine than was appropriate. He had tasted his father's mead, received intoxicating gifts from ambassadors and pursuer's alike, lived off of rum and grog while at sea, and shared many drunken moments with Sinbad.
That still did not mean he had ever drank smuggled liquor while sharing the company of a pirate in a house of ill repute.
Sinbad regarded him with his soft dark eyes, barely lit by the flickering candle on their table. "Come on, love." he whispered, placing a subtle hand on Proteus thigh. "Don't tell me I went through all that trouble just to watch you not drink it."
They were at this sordid tavern under the cover of night, cloaks, and fake names. Well, Proteus was. His beloved was a regular patron here, a fact given away by the cat calls and jibes of the others.
Tucking a strand of Proteus' loose hair behind his ear, Sinbad gave him an appeasing smile. He held the cup out to him, the reflections of flames dancing on the wine's dark surface. "I was thinking of you when I lifted it. The sacred wine to celebrate Hathor." He bit his lip as his gaze dropped to Proteus's lips. "The Goddess of love, joy and drink."
Biting back on the warmth that spread through his chest at his words, Proteus fixed him with a disapproving stare. "What sort of ruler am I to be if I inspire my subjects to steal?" he whispered for Sinbad's ears only.
Sinbad gave him a mocking grin, even as he moved closer, pressing his lips to Proteus' pulse point. He kissed, lips and teeth teasing. "But I'm not truly your subject, your Majesty."
"No." Proteus conceded, tangling one hand in Sinbad's hair to draw him closer. The hand on his thigh shifted, and Proteus groaned. "No, you're not."
With his free hand, he took the glass from Sinbad's grasp. He drank deep, tasting the Egyptian sun sweet berries on his tongue. The taste danced on his tongue. Grapes, pomegranates, honey. Setting it aside, he pulled away from Sinbad. Sinbad watched him from under his lashes with lust darkened eyes.
"Did you truly think of me while you stole this?" Proteus asked him softly, feeling desire coil in his stomach.
"I think of you," Sinbad started, punctuating it with a kiss to Proteus' palm, "every minute of every day. I heard the story, and I knew it was meant for you and I."
Proteus kissed him with his wine-sweet mouth.
A/N I apologize for messing with Egyptian Mythology. Please forgive my meddling. As always, thank you to my lovely readers.