Claiming the ice Prince

by Espen Arcadia

  Aputi smiled at the heated tone in Siku’s voice, his passion. Maybe Siku could afford a more idealistic view on life, having spent his life separated from the practical realities of the world. Whatever the reason, Aputi hoped some of it survived the more that Siku learned, it would be a shame to lose something so rare to the mundane aspects of living.

  “I suppose being a sex slave would be a little better than being a conman and a thief,” Aputi mused.

  Siku’s eyes widened. “You would willingly sell your body?”

  “Well, when you say it like that, makes me realize I wouldn’t really be selling it, now would I? It would be owned by someone else, and that doesn’t sound much fun.”

  Siku covered his mouth to muffle his soft laughter. “Perhaps you could convince your partner or mate to play the part with you.”

  Aputi shrugged. “Don’t have either one of those things. But you know, if you were offering…”

  Siku’s laughter died, his cheeks flushing once more. “I didn’t mean…”

  Aputi waved him off with a laugh. “I was teasing you again.”

  “Oh.”

  It was said with an air of relief, but Aputi could swear he saw a flicker of disappointment cross Siku’s expression. It was then Aputi became aware of the fact that the two of them were alone in the raised seated area, or at least as alone as they could get in the crowd. The nearest person was sat several feet away from them, engrossed in their conversation while they waited for the curtain to go up.

  Without sparing a second thought, Aputi lay his hand on Siku’s lower back. His fingers slipped beneath the thick coat Siku wore, resting on the man’s thin undershirt. Through the fabric, he could feel Siku’s warmth radiating out. Siku’s shoulders tensed again, but didn’t move away. After a moment, Siku settled back into his touch, looking uncertain.

  Aputi let his fingers lay there, allowing Siku to adjust to the contact without demanding more from him. Darkness began to settle around them as the lights were dimmed.

  The show was about to begin.

  Siku

  As much as he tried to focus on the show, Siku found his attention constantly wavering. Aputi’s fingers on his back were distracting. They weren’t moving, save for the occasional unconscious tracing of circles. Siku wasn’t sure if this was supposed to be the same sort of friendly touch Aputi had mentioned earlier or something else entirely.

  The arm over his shoulder had been nice, comfortable, soothing even. What little he’d seen of the outside world growing up had contained such casual contact, though he’d never experienced it for himself. Even his mother was reserved when it came to touching him. The most contact Siku had received from another person had come from lovers or drunken nobles who hung on him at various feasts.

  The first time anyone had ever touched him in a meaningful and intimate way, Siku had felt like his body had come to life for the first time. Every other time after his first could never quite capture the original spark of joy and passion inside him, no matter how he tried. After some time, Siku had given up trying to find it again, content to simply enjoy the physical pleasure.

  Aputi leaned in, voice low. “Enjoying yourself?”

  For one wild moment, Siku thought Aputi knew what he’d been thinking about. When he followed Aputi’s gaze, however, relief flooded through him, with just a touch of embarrassment. Of course, Aputi was talking about the show and not the fact that Siku was remembering his first intimate moment with someone because of Aputi’s touch.

  “It is very different from the performances I’ve witnessed in the past,” Siku said.

  Distracting as Aputi’s touch was, the show was very different from the softly dramatic and dignified performances he was used to. The performance Aputi had chosen was loud, and one of the key characters, a pirate in search of a fabled treasure, was bawdy and often times drunk. It was exactly the sort of play he’d never see in the castle, and from what little he’d been able to pay attention to, Siku was enjoying it.

  Aputi chuckled as the pirate made a reference to his ‘second sword.’ Siku didn’t think the pointed gesture to his crotch was necessary to make the point, but he joined Aputi in the laughter all the same. The audience laughed too, theirs far louder than the minor titters and soft chuckles that might crop up in a lighthearted moment during a performance in the castle.

  Everything about the city was different than Siku had ever expected it to be. He’d expected the people to be perhaps dirtier, cruder, and altogether lacking culture. Yet, the first person he met was a thief and conman, with a surprising amount of heart. Aputi was good at making a show of being disinterested and distant from everything around him, so much so that Siku might have taken it at face value and believed it. Yet, he’d taken Siku under his wing, not prying too far into his business, and helping him navigate this world. Siku had also spied the man slipping some money to a group of half-starved looking children before they’d entered the theatre, though he’d pretended to be reading the marquee.

  Siku leaned in. “Are all performances in this theatre about sex and adventure?”

  Aputi shook his head. “Not all. Why, does it bother you?”

  “I may have been secluded from the world’s struggles and realities, but not even a golden cage can keep me from knowing about sex and pleasure, Aputi.”

  He had meant it as a joke, but he felt Aputi’s fingers tighten against his back for a moment. Siku glanced at him, afraid he might have gone too far with his joke. Aputi was watching him carefully, eyes dark and intense.

  Siku shivered under the scrutiny. “Did I say something wrong?”

  “Not if you were trying to get me curious,” Aputi said softly.

  It hadn’t been Siku’s intention, but he immediately wished it had been. He was suddenly more aware of Aputi’s touch, and how close together the two of them sat. Siku stared over the small distance, reaching out slowly until his hand lay on Aputi’s knee. Under the noise of the boisterous show and the equally loud audience, Siku thought he heard Aputi’s breath sharpen.

  Aputi’s fingers shifted, moving beneath the thin layer of his undershirt to brush against his skin. A tingling sprouted from where their skin touched, spreading up along Siku’s back in a tiny shiver. Unconsciously, Siku licked his lips, wondering what Aputi’s lips would feel like against his own.

  The lights in the theatre burst into full brilliance, blinding Siku. He jerked back, looking around to find the reason.

  Aputi chuckled. “It’s just the house lights, I guess we’re at the intermission.”

  Sure enough, the people on the upper level with them began to get up from their seats. Some of them were looking over at Siku and Aputi, and a couple had smirks on their faces. Siku’s face flushed as he realized they had to know what the two of them had been up to.

  “You okay?” Aputi asked.

  Siku looked away, keeping his eyes on the curtain. “I forgot myself and made a spectacle of us.”

  Aputi looked at the group of people filing out. “Them? Shit, I’m sure they’ve seen a lot worse than the two of us making eyes at one another.”

  Siku snorted softly. “Being caught in a…compromising situation with another person is a good way to be eaten alive by rumormongers and gossipers in court.”

  “Court huh?”

  Siku winced, realizing too late that the slip gave away more than he would’ve liked. Keeping his features even, he eyed Aputi in amusement.

  “Don’t you know? All nobles and rich people are at Court, it’s just how it goes. Do learn to keep up.”

  Aputi blinked, for a moment looking as if he might be offended until he stopped. Siku knew he was doing a poor job of hiding his amusement, feeling the twitching of his lips which most likely gave him away.

  Aputi snorted. “Now you develop a sense of humor.”

  “I’ve always had one,” Siku assured him.

  “We should probably go get you a snack or something, huh?” Aputi asked, glancing toward the door.

&
nbsp; As if on cue, Siku’s stomach growled. “It would be greatly appreciated.”

  Aputi grinned. “Well, give me one second. I think it might be a good idea if I don’t go wandering out there in my state.”

  Siku frowned. “Your state?”

  Aputi, still grinning wide, motioned to the front of his pants. Siku looked down in confusion, eyes widening when he saw precisely what Aputi meant. Heat flushed through him, and Siku didn’t even care that it showed on his face.

  Siku cleared his throat. “Yes, that would certainly be noticeable.”

  Forcing himself to look away, Siku swallowed hard and decided to pay more attention to the theatre itself. A few people still lingered in the seats below, their conversations carrying up to the balcony in hushed voices. The building was old, but it looked sturdy enough, and exceptionally well cared for. The theatre must have been built during a time when wood was a little more plentiful or had been built by someone with a lot of sekham in their coin purse. He smiled as he ran a finger over the railing, finding it faded with time, but someone had still oiled it.

  The theatre was a perfect example of the sort of world Aputi lived in. It was perhaps a little run down, without all the shiny gilded edges and sparkling beauty of Siku’s. Yet, there was something altogether beautiful about it all the same. The world outside the castle was more worn out and used, but it was honest, open, and some even took the time to keep it oiled and cared for.

  “Anyone ever tell you that you get lost in thought a lot?”

  Aputi’s question brought Siku back to reality with a snap. Immediately he felt himself blush, annoyed at his own body’s reaction. One of these times, he was going to figure out why Aputi always seemed to know exactly what to say to get him blushing.

  Siku snorted. “I’ve been told it quite a lot actually, but it was never said with the fondness I just heard in your voice. Or at least, I hope it was fondness.”

  “I think you look cute when you’re thinking,” Aputi said.

  Siku was so surprised, he didn’t care that he was blushing harder than before. Many people, both prospective lovers and suitors for his hand, had showered him in gifts and compliments. Yet not one of them, save for perhaps Duke Qinu, had ever sounded as sincere as Aputi did.

  Siku shook himself. “Compliments from a man who makes a living making people believe him.”

  Aputi smirked. “That’s fair. But it’s not a con. If I just wanted to get into your pants as soon as possible, I would have gotten you drunk and told you how hot you are.”

  “Oh? And is this your way of telling me I’m not?”

  “If you think you can play word games with me, you’re sniffing up the wrong tree. You are hot, but you’re also cute, passionate, and there’s something that keeps me paying attention. Can’t say that’s happened too often.”

  “You don’t even know me,” Siku protested softly.

  “And you don’t know me, but I want to see what else you’re hiding,” Aputi said.

  Siku looked away, guilty. “There are some things I can’t tell you Aputi, I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t mean who you really are or what you’re running away from. I would never have guessed you would’ve been such a good actor, or that you would have such a quick temper with some asshole like Nulak. Seems to me like there’s more to learn about you and I want to hang around and see what else there is.”

  Siku could only stare before he forced himself to look away, at a complete loss for words. Never had he known anyone who really wanted to know who Siku was. Even his few casual lovers had built an image of the prince in their imaginations, their reactions based on it. No one had approached Siku being open about their bias, and then telling him they wanted to move past that assumption.

  “I don’t know what to say,” Siku admitted.

  “So don’t say anything, and let’s just keep on doing what we’ve been doing since we met. We hang out, we do things together, and we just…keep doing that.”

  It sounded perfect to Siku’s ears. Aputi offered more than safety and guidance in a world Siku still didn’t understand. In him, Siku had found a companion who was enticing and oddly patient in a way no other person ever had been with him before. Everyone always expected something of him, but Aputi simply wanted to be around him.

  Movement pulled Siku’s eyes away from Aputi and down to the theatre seats once again. All warmth fled from him as he caught sight of the formal armor of the royal guards. A group of six of them were walking up and down the aisles, waving something around in front of each person with a gruff question.

  Siku didn’t need to see what it was to know what they were looking for.

  Aputi noticed as well. “Holy shit, is that the royal guard? What the hell are they doing so far from the castle? Don’t they have a royal family to watch?”

  Siku stood, backing away from the railing before he was spotted. He’d known his mother would waste no time in sending out a hunting party, but he’d expected them to start with the castle grounds and work their way outward.

  “What if I said I wanted to know more about you?” Siku heard himself ask.

  Aputi frowned. “Like what?”

  “You have family, right?”

  “A mother, why?”

  Siku backed toward the door, forcing his eyes onto Aputi, praying the man didn’t see anything. Aputi made his living by reading people, understanding them. Siku didn’t want his fear and panic to give him away, so he forced a smile onto his face.

  “What if I wanted to meet her?”

  Aputi stood, following after Siku slowly. “You, want to meet my mother?”

  “Are you the only one allowed to be curious? You know at least enough about the life I come from. I want to see your family.”

  “It’s only my mother.”

  Thinking of his own, Siku smiled. “I believe one can learn a lot about a person by meeting their mother.”

  Aputi motioned to the curtained stage. “Don’t you want to finish the show first?”

  Siku shook his head. “Truth be told, I’m more interested in you.”

  Which Siku realized was true. He could always watch the show another time if he wanted. Even the nobility of the castle could bring an outside performance into the castle walls with permission. Siku knew he would inevitably have to return to the castle, and as the prince, he could have the same show performed in private for him. Seeing more of Aputi’s life, however?

  That would be a once in a lifetime opportunity.

  Aputi

  “Mom!” he called as he pushed through the sturdy door.

  Her warm voice floated down the hall. “Aputi? I wasn’t expecting you back so soon.”

  “I brought a friend with me,” Aputi said with a glance toward Siku.

  “Well, bring them in and have a seat while I get started cooking.”

  Aputi pulled his heavy coat off with a sigh. “You don’t have to start cooking the minute I get in the door.”

  “Don’t start with me.”

  Aputi grinned at Siku, who was staring down the hallway with a bewildered expression. He motioned for the man to take his coat off, pointing at the row of hooks waiting in the hall. Siku did as he was bid, peering around the narrow space curiously now he’d been snapped out of his trance.

  “I know, nothing fancy,” Aputi said with a shrug.

  It might not have been anything special, but it had been his home his entire life. Much like the theatre only a few streets over, his home was rough but sturdy. Despite his mother’s frailty, she was still stubborn and took care of the cleaning no matter how much Aputi protested.

  Siku stopped at the row of metal hooks drilled into a bone hung on the wall. His fingers traced the small symbols etched along the edge of the bone. A small smile graced his face as they stopped on a crude etching of what was meant to be a seal.

  Aputi chuckled. “That thing used to be lower to the ground and I was bored one day.”

  “I did something similar once, except I cho
se a priceless statuette to carve. It was not a choice that was particularly welcomed.”

  “I was pretty proud of myself the day I did that. Right up until my father discovered it and uh, made sure I knew it wasn’t a good idea to do it again in the future.”

  Siku frowned. “And where is your father?”

  Aputi turned away, facing down the hallway where the sounds of banging around, and his mother’s soft humming echoed back to him. He was surprised she hadn’t come down the hall yet to see what was keeping them but was happy as well. The last thing he needed was for the distant, sad expression to cross her features at the mention of Aputi’s father. She had never given into her sorrow, but it always seemed to hang around her like a cloud.

  “He died. There was a plague, some years back, took a lot of people in the slums. At first, it was just older folk, and kids, ya know, people who didn’t have the strength to fight it. That was bad enough, but then it changed, started getting the young and healthy. First, my mom, my dad took care of her as best he could. She made it through, but Dad…”

  His mother had always been a little on the frail side physically, while his father had been hale and healthy. Aputi remembered staring up at his father, who’d been impossibly tall in Aputi’s young mind, and thought how invincible and strong he’d been. The disease hadn’t cared, it had brought his father down quickly, and hard. It had taken only a couple of days, leaving Aputi and his mother without their provider, and a missing piece of their hearts.

  Siku stared at him for a long time, his forehead creasing before looking away.

  “I apologize, that was tactless of me.”

  Aputi shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, you didn’t know, and now you do. Just, do me a couple of favors?”

  Siku’s eyes widened, and he nodded. “Of course, anything.”

  “Don’t mention my dad around my mother, and don’t even think about mentioning what you know I do for money, okay? She thinks I’m out working whatever laboring jobs I can find and I want to keep it that way.”