Finn looked surprised when he arrived to find Darragh arranging plates himself.
“What’s all this?”
“Dinner.” Darragh pulled out a chair. “Just you, me, and food - no servants, protocols, summit discussions, or anything else of that nature required.”
Finn sat slowly, like he wasn’t sure the casualness was allowed, and Darragh reminded himself Finn had spent a lot of weeks learning all about protocol just to please him. Darragh served the food - roasted chicken, vegetables, and fresh bread. Nothing fancy and definitely nothing that required navigating twelve pieces of silverware. Just a normal evening meal for two men after a hard day’s work.
“This is nice,” Finn spoke up after they’d been eating for a while. His voice was quiet and still a bit unsure, but he was talking. “I’d forgotten meals could be just…nice.”
“We used to talk when we first met.” Darragh refilled Finn’s wine. “About things that mattered. Things that had nothing to do with kingdoms or councils.”
“I’m not sure I remember how.” Finn attempted a smile. “Every thought in my head for weeks has been about the summit.”
“Then talk about something else.” Darragh leaned back. “Tell me about the village hall roof. Trent mentioned it still needs work.”
It was like flipping a switch. Finn’s face brightened immediately. For the next twenty minutes, he described the structural challenges of the old hall, how water had compromised the main beams, and his plans for reinforcement that would last another fifty years. His hands moved as he talked, sketching invisible beams in the air.
Darragh just listened, watching his husband come alive talking about something he loved. This was the man he’d married - practical, competent, passionate about making things work properly.
But just as quickly, Finn’s enthusiasm faded. “I miss it,” he said with a sigh. “I miss working with my hands, fixing and building things, and seeing those immediate results.”
“The summit will end.” Darragh reached across the table and laced their fingers together. “And when it does, you’re going to take a week and fix that damn roof and any other roof that’s leaking too. No arguments.”
Finn squeezed his hand. “You’d let me?”
“Let you?” Darragh laughed. “For one thing, while I haven’t shown my support for it lately, you are your own person, andyou can do what you like. As for going to Winrone for a week, I’ll probably join you. I used to help build ships before I became king, and I miss that, too. We can let the advisers call it whatever, but I think doing a week like that every few months is a really great way to get out and show the people we can work, just like they do.”
That seemed to improve Finn’s mood. Once they’d finished eating, they cleared the dishes together, stacking them on the sideboard for servants to collect later. In the bedroom, Darragh lit candles instead of calling for lamps. For what he had in mind, he wanted softer light and a more intimate atmosphere.
“Come here.” He guided Finn to the bed. “I want you to lie down.”
“Darragh…?”
“Just trust me.”
Finn stretched out on his stomach. Darragh straddled his hips and worked his hands under Finn’s shirt. The muscles beneath were knotted and tense from weeks of stress. Darragh pressed his thumbs along Finn’s spine, feeling him shudder.
“Relax, my wonderful husband. Just relax.”
“I am trying.”
Darragh worked slowly, doing his best to keep his movements gentle but firm, finding every tight spot and working it until he felt the muscle give under his fingers. Finn’s breathing deepened, and when Darragh pulled the shirt up, Finn lifted enough to let him remove it completely.
“Better?”
“Mm.” Finn’s response was muffled against the pillow. “Don’t stop.”
Darragh smiled, continuing the massage. His hands moved lower, kneading the tension from Finn’s lower back, before moving onto his hips and the gentle swell of Finn’s ass. Finn made small sounds of pleasure that went straight to Darragh’s groin, and from the way Finn was moving, he was feeling it, too.
“Roll over.”
Finn complied, his eyes half-closed and his limbs splayed against the mattress as he settled onto his back. Darragh bent to kiss him, slow at first, reconnecting, relearning the taste and feel of his husband.
They undressed each other gradually, punctuating each revealed piece of skin with more kisses. When they were finally naked, Darragh stretched out beside his husband, pulling him close.
“I love you.” Darragh traced Finn’s jaw. “Not the perfect king consort you’ve been trying to become. You. The man who is not afraid of hard work, who’s familiar with his toolbox, and who loves to use it.”
Finn’s eyes filled. “I still don’t know how to be both. How to be myself and be good enough for this role.”
