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The response, of course, was right on the tail of his. “And I you, Lio.”
Unable to take more, Lio scurried away.
It went on like that for weeks, all the while Lio’s affections grew more and more.
Their long talks grew longer, and whenever Lio was with the Diagorian guard, he lost track of time completely. When he was finally assigned work (to feed the horses—Tarick himself had a role in establishing his duties, to keep him close and keep ‘an eye on him so he takes no more tumbles,’ as Tarick jokingly said), he found himself counting the minutes until his tasks were complete. Not for his deathly fear of equine, but so that he could go seek out Tarick again.
Who would already be waiting for him, casually leaning against the stable portal, the glow of the snow outlining his tall frame.
While they had furthered their relationship to the thrilling intimacy of holding hands, Lio wondered, with growing dread, if Tarick would eventually want more from him.
His mind flashed to Suscon of hands gripping him, the pain shooting through his most intimate place, the rawness, and the emptiness afterwards. It was an emptiness of the heart that still rubbed bruisingly whenever he dwelled upon those times. The sweat, the mean grips, and the afterwards, where he would be left alone to clean up the mess the men had made of him.
All had eventually left Lio, after they had received what they wanted from him.
Images flashed through his mind of grubby coins tossed at his feet on crumbled bedding before he was left alone.
He could not allow Tarick to leave him. If they went through with the ultimate act of intimacy, he wasn’t sure he could bear the result of the Diagorian leaving him behind, never wanting to spend time with him again.
He will never want to listen to what I had for breakfast again. Or my complaints that a horse sniffed me too closely. Or my past in Suscon.
He lets me cry. Who else will let me cry?
No, they could not have intercourse. But still…
Lio thought of Tarick’s great hand enveloping his, the thrill of him at his back, thighs together, those times they rode double, as well as the nights they leaned into each other, in front of a fireplace, and sat in comfortable silence.
Lio realized, shockingly, that hewantedto be fully intimate with Tarick. Still, after all his newly-discovered aversions and hesitations towards intercourse, he wanted to feel Tarick’s body flush against his.
He shivered at the thought.
How? How could he make it so they could be intimate, but Tarick would not leave?
The answer seemed simple enough.
He would have to ask for Tarick’s hand in marriage.
The opportunity came days later, when a ball was set in motion, at Salas’ behest.
Lio pulled the other bird aside the day before, and together they devised a plan for Lio to ask Tarick to the ball. Lio was still courting Tarick, and asking the other man to accompany him to such a social function would show at least some of his true, great intent. The other birds (who knew all of nothing about courting) seemed quite sure of this.
So that evening, Salas knocked on the door to Tarick’s chambers while Lio hung back, hidden behind one of the curtains of a long, arched window. His feet stuck out from the drapery, but he was sure Tarick would not notice him hidden there.
With the sound of the heavy door creaking open, Lio could not help but to peek around the curtain, enough to see Tarick’s bemused-yet-amused expression as he peered down to find Salas at his doorstep.
Salas cleared his throat and held before him a long scroll of parchment that he and Lio had spent the better part of an hour scribbling over. “Greetings, good sir! I, Salas of Suscon, have came-come to act as harold for Lio…of Suscon.”
Lio had asked Salas specifically for help in this task, as Salas had a near-native grip on the Diagorian language, which he spoke now. Lio preened at Salas’ genius. He sounded very good.
“You, Tarick, or Diagor,” Salas continued, “with your flowing hair of horse straw…and your…” Salas took his time squinting at the paper, trying to puzzle over something they had written.
All the while, Tarick’s expression had slowly melted into one of relaxed acceptance, his mouth in a tight line, as though he were doing his ultimate best not to smile. His eyes, though, sparkled with laughter.
Lio felt giddy at seeing it, though when Tarick’s eyes shot to him before quickly finding Salas again, Lio squeaked and adjusted his posture to be fully concealed by the curtain, no longer able to spy.
Salas muttered in Susconian before moving on. “Lio hum-bul-lay invites you to join him at the ball of…the ball. What say you?”
Lio could hear the grin in Tarick’s response. “Salas of Suscon, please inform Lio that I accept his invitation.”
