The palace didn’t feel like a cage anymore.

It still smelled faintly of smoke and ozone from the last coup, the marble scorched and ceilings cracked from Dain’s storm. 
Elion was glancing at it with a sense of contentment. 
No guards stood at his door; no collar weighed on his throat anymore. He walked freely now. A strange thing, freedom, after years of chains.

Stranger still was how, despite the open halls and endless courtyards, he always found himself circling back to his Esper. 

Dain, who had once bought him like livestock. Who had called him a pet. 
Dain, who now couldn’t take two steps without Elion at his side. 

Not because of chains. But because the bond tugged softly, insistent as Dain’s storm hummed like a heartbeat beneath his very own. 

And because, Dain he wanted him there. Next to him. Touching him. 
Though he would rather be struck dead than admit it out loud.  

... 

Elion leaned against a balcony rail, watching Dain pretend to be absorbed in a report. The prince’s jaw was tight as ever, shoulders straight, and the storm inside him was quiet. Balanced. 

“Mm,” Elion hummed, arms crossing lazily. “You know, you’re much less terrifying now that you’ve been properly domesticated.” 

Dain’s quill snapped in half. 

Elion smirked. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, Your Highness. It’s been months now. Everyone’s noticed it. No lightning bolts in the corridors. No nobles fainting in the halls. You’ve gone tame.” 

Dain rose slowly, like a predator uncoiling, eyes narrowing. “Tame?” 

“Utterly,” Elion replied in all mock-seriousness. “One kiss and you’re practically house-trained. Maybe we should go for a walk around the city, show them how well-behaved you’ve become hm?” 

Dain moved fast, storm flickering in his gaze, hand catching Elion’s chin. “Careful, Guide. You’re not as untouchable as you think.” 

But his voice wasn’t sharp. It was low, rough in a way that sent warmth curling through Elion’s chest. 

Elion tilted his head, refusing to look away. “Touch me, then.”, he purred, pouting up at the Esper’s dark eyes. Wrapping his arms around the other man’s waist, rubbing himself on him in a desperate, hungry way. 

The heat between them stretched. 

Dain’s storm brushed against him, not lashing, not consuming, just present, steady. 
Their bond thrummed through their skin where Elion was rubbing against Dain like a needy brat. His mouth found Elion’s slowly, not with the hungry, bruising desperation of their past, but with a gentleness that stole Dain’s breath more than any storm ever could. 

Elion curled his fingers into Dain’s shirt, pulling him closer. 

The kiss lingered, deepened, until Elion finally broke it with a smirk against Dain’s lips. “See? Perfectly tame.” 

Dain’s answering growl rumbled against his mouth before turning into another kiss, longer, dirtier, but still steady as their bond thrumming between them. 

Elion trembled with desire as he pressed himself against Dain's firm body. 

"Dain," Elion whispered, his voice thick with need. "You haven’t touched me since that one time. I want it please hm? - " 

Dain's eyes darkened with lust as he roughly grabbed Elion's hips, pulling him flush against him. "You've grown even more brattish," he growled. "I should spank you for begging so shamelessly." 

Elion whimpered, his hole clenching at the thought. "That’s so hot! Yes, please," he begged.

With a low groan, Dain swept the desk clean with one arm, sending papers and books flying. He spun Elion around and bent him over the polished wood surface and ripping the Guides pants off. 

 

"As you wish, brat," 

- CUT OUT -

 

Panting harshly, Dain gathered Elion into his arms, turning him around to claim his lips in a searing kiss. "Mine," he growled possessively. "You're all mine." 

"Yes," Elion breathed against his lips with a wicked grin. "Yours. I love you." 

"I love you too," Dain replied tenderly, caressing Elion's flushed cheek. 

When they finally pulled apart, foreheads resting together, Elion felt it, the truth he never thought was possible. 

He wasn’t a pet. He wasn’t a leash. 

He was free. 

And somehow, impossibly, so was Dain. 

At last. 

 

End.