The storm hadn’t left him since the revolt. 

It flickered at the edges of his ribs like a living thing, restless and hungry, demanding release every time Dain looked at his Guide, still asleep in his bed, skin pale and still. 

The court whispered he was growing soft. His father called it weakness. 

And Dain began to wonder if they were right. 

Having a partner would split his attention, his power. It would create an opening in his defence. 

When Elion finally stirred awake, Dain was seated at his side, one hand fisted tight around the arm of the chair. 

“Lay back down.” Dain said, too gruff, too harsh. 

Elion’s lips curved faintly. “Really? No thank you? No wake-up kiss? You’re worse at bedside manners than you are at kissing.” 
Dain’s jaw tightened. Hearing his Guides sharp tongue punched the wave of relief through him harder than anger. But he masked it, as always. 

“You shouldn’t have done that.” 

Elion blinked. “What?” 

“Threw yourself into my storm. Again.” Dain’s voice cracked with the weight of it. 
“You bleed yourself out every time you touch me. If I take the throne, they’ll come for you first. Every knife meant for me will aim at my Guide.” 
His hands clenched tighter. “Maybe I should give it up. Spare you.” 

For a moment, silence. 

Then Elion laughed, sharp and bitter. 

“Spare me? You arrogant bastard.” 

Dain’s head snapped at him. 

“I’m not your fucking leash. I’m not an excuse to run from your crown.”’ 
Elion struggled upright, his eyes burning in anger. “Either I stand beside you when you claim what’s yours or I stand nowhere at all.” 

Dain’s storm stirred, furious, and more than anything, terrified. 
“Do you understand what you’re saying? The court will gut you alive. You’ll be hated, hunted, used until there’s nothing left of-” 

“And yet,” Elion snapped, “it’s still better than rotting in a cage while you hide me away like a weakness!” 

The words cut deeper than any blade. 

Dain surged to his feet, storm lashing. “You are not a weakness.” 

“Then prove it!” Elion shot back, dragging himself off the bed despite the tremor in his legs. He shoved Dain’s chest, hard enough to make the prince stumble back a step. 
“Prove it, Dain. Show them you’re more than their beast. Show them I’m more than your collar.” 

The storm whipped around them, crackling along the walls, sparking the air. 

Dain grabbed him, slammed him against the edge of the bed, not hard enough to hurt him, but it was hard enough to make the Guide gasp. 
Their faces were inches apart, breaths ragged. 
“You called me your Guide?” Elion smiled against Dain’s lips. 

“You infuriating, reckless, impossible fucking man,” Dain hissed. His voice dropped, raw. “Why in hell can’t I let you go? Why do you consume every single part of my body? Why do keep making me lose my mind while calming my cursed storm?” 

Elion stared at him, defiant. “Because you need me. And I,” His voice trembled. “I need you too. It’s fucked but fuck me I do.” 

Resonance flared, searing through both of them. 

Dain’s forehead pressed to his, storm quieting as if bowing down to the man underneath him. 

“I will take the throne,” Dain whispered, voice breaking in a vow. “And I’ll burn this kingdom to ash before I let anyone lay a hand on you ever again.” 

Elion’s hand rose, tentative, settling against Dain’s jaw. His touch was shaking, but surprisingly gentle. 

“Then don’t burn it. Rule it. With me.” 

For the first time in his life, Dain didn’t feel like a beast in chains. 

He felt like a man who could become a king. 

"You won’t ever falter again," Elion murmured, thumb stroking over Dain's bottom lip. "Not while I’m with you." 

The words hung between them, like an invisible threat tying them together. 
Dain searched Elion's face, as if trying to find some hint of deception. 
But there was only honest, yearning desire aimed at him. 

With a low growl, Dain closed the distance, capturing Elion's mouth in a searing kiss. It started fierce and demanding but softened almost immediately, Elion calming him with slow, deep sweeps of his tongue. 

“I’ll take my sweet time with you tonight,” Elion purred against the Esper’s pulsing lips. 

They stripped each other slowly, hands roaming over the exposed skin as their clothes fell away. Dain's usual icy demeanor cracked under Elion's deliberate, gentle touch, a choked moan escaping him as Elion's palm skimmed over a firm nipple. 

“I’ll mark myself onto your skin,” his fingers circled Dain’s nipples teasingly. 
“So you won’t dare hide me,” he whispered as their hips rubbed against in a sensual rhythm. 

Elion took his time exploring Dain's body, mapping out every dip and plane with lips and hands. He lavished attention on the Esper's nipples, sucking and flicking until Dain was arching up into his touch. 

By the time Elion worked his way down Dain's stomach, he was shaking, - leaking against his belly. Elion mouthed at the hot red tip, his tongue lapping up the intoxicating beads - -, leaking down the hard length. “Mmmfh..Mm...” And then swallowing him down in one smooth motion. 

"Fuuck! AHhh!! Hahh.." Dain bucked, fisting his hands in Elion's hair. 

-CUT OUT-

Dain keened, back arching off the bed as he obeyed, his release streaking their stomachs and chests. The feeling pushed Elion over the edge, and he followed a second later, spilling deep inside Dain with a hoarse shout. 

They collapsed together, limbs entwined and breaths mingling. Elion didn't pull out, he lay on top of the prince, his face pressed against his neck. 

Dain turned his head to capture Elion's lips again, the kiss felt slow and tired. 

"You are mine," he mumbled against Elion's mouth. 

Elion just chuckled, pressing a tender kiss to Dain's cheek. "Likewise, Your Highness." 

 

 

To be continued...