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Techno's new husband is pretty. He's a prince, because Techno is the sort of man who marries princes now. Or at least one prince. Techno really hopes he won't have to do this multiple times. One party is more than enough, really, even if the food is good.
He takes another piece of flatbread, scooping a generous helping of the mushroom spread the cooks only break out for special occasions.
Apparently him getting married is a special event, even if he's still not much more than a glorified soldier. Who knew getting good at killing guys would get him here, looking at his new husband out of the corner of his eye and munching on rich people food.
His husband's name is Philza, and he's the…fifth son of a king. He’s the same age as Techno, and Techno had gathered 19 is a little young to be married for Easterners. They'd apparently had to scramble a bit to find someone of appropriate age and rank for Techno. High enough to not be an insult, but not too high. A son of a king unlikely to ever inherit the throne was deemed a good fit for a soldier who did a few things and didn’t die soon enough to avoid getting some medals and being made a general.
Philza catches his eye and smiles, and Techno looks away, feeling his cheeks heat. He hasn't had a lot of pretty people smile at him. He's been busy, mostly, and a little nervous about what happens after smiling. He's probably going to be bad at it, and his husband is going to hate him and then Techno will just have to die.
“Do you want to dance?” His husband asks. He's smiling again when Techno looks, and Techno is pretty sure he blacks out, because he blinks and they're on the dance floor, and Phil's hair is gradually escaping from the tight bun it was in, giving him a golden halo as he smiles up at Techno, the room spinning around them. Techno's mouth is dry, and he's gonna trip over his feet any second, but he's doing his best. He wants to make sure Phil is happy, even if he has to be married to a Northern general who's common as mud. Techno never learned these dances, but Phil is good at leading, making it seem like Techno isn't about to fall over any second. He laughs the few times Techno steps on his toes, like it’s a joke they're both in on. Techno is helpless to do anything but smile when faced with that laugh.
He’s not sure how long they dance together, but it’s long enough that they’re both a little damp with exertion when the music ends. The servants are cleaning up the remains of dinner, and it’s glaringly obvious where they’re supposed to be going now.
Techno swallows hard, every earlier anxiety clawing its way up his throat. He’s never even kissed anyone, other than the brief press of lips at the altar earlier. Philza had given him a weird look after, and Techno is pretty sure he messed it up.
He doesn’t have a choice though. He has to lead his pretty husband down a hallway that is both longer and shorter than it’s ever been and push open the door to his rooms.
He was given nicer rooms after everything that had happened, ones with a little sitting room attached to the actual bedroom, a big fireplace and a nice rug. It’s more space than he knows what to do with, after mostly living out of a tent with like four other guys. He thought they were nice, but Philza makes them look shabby. He deserves better. He’s used to living in a castle.
“I like your hair,” Philza says, stepping closer. Techno has to resist the urge to step away.
“Oh, uh, thanks,” he says, gripping the bottom edge of his shirt to keep from fiddling with his hair. “I grew it myself?” Philza laughs, not in a mean way. Like he thinks Techno is funny.
“Can I touch it?” he asks, and Techno has no idea how to respond to that, so he jerks a nod. Philza steps even closer, so Techno can smell the spicy cologne the other man is wearing. It’s nice. Philza reaches up and touches Techno’s hair, fingers running through the strands gently. Techno doesn’t dare to breathe. Philza is smiling up at him, and his fingers have stopped at the nape of Techno’s neck, curled into the short hairs there, and Techno doesn’t know what he’s supposed to be doing.
“Can I kiss you?” Philza asks, voice low, and Techno can’t nod, because then Philza would move his hand, so he swallows again. His mouth is so dry.
“Yeah- yes. Please?” He really wants that. He’s going to be so bad at it. Philza pulls him down a bit, and Techno goes, and then they’re kissing.
Techno doesn’t have much to compare it to, but he likes it. Likes the feeling of his husband’s mouth against his, of the faint rasp of stubble against his skin. He gasps when they pull apart, lips tingling. Philza is smiling at him and Techno wants that to keep happening.
“Do you want to, uh,” he motions helplessly. “I’m taller than you.”
“Are you trying to get me in bed?” Philza asks, still smiling.
“I mean, if you want to? It’s been a long day, it’s fine if-” Techno swallows hard. He’s definitely shown he doesn’t know what he’s doing. Maybe if he just listens and does what he’s told?
“I want to,” Philza says, and Techno guides him into the bedroom.
“Oh, someone put fresh sheets on the bed.”
“Seems like a waste.”
“How should we- oh. Yeah, that works.”
“We need lube, right? For- that?”
“Spit works, right?”
“Spit does not work.”
“Ow, fuck, my leg doesn’t bend that way, hold on.”
“Sorry, sorry, sorry.”
“Okay, you lay down and maybe like this?”
“Ow it is not supposed to fold like that!”
“Oh, oops.”
“Maybe more lube?”
“Mate, I’m fuckin’ drowning in lube.”
“You are a little…damp.”
“Fuck off.”
Techno settles against the headboard, his husband in his lap.
“This can't be this difficult,” Philza says, looking annoyed. Techno winces.
“I'm sorry,” he says, looking down, then back up. Down is a bit awkward right now. “I've never really done this?”
“I fuckin’ figured, mate,” Philza says, laughing a bit. “I haven't either. Figured I had time to get around to it and all.”
“Yup, same, same. I didn't forget it was something I might want to practice at all. Wasn't too busy killing all my enemies or anything,” Techno says, nodding in agreement. Philza cackles, tipping forward to rest his forehead against Techno's shoulder. Techno can't quite resist kissing the top of his head, fingers brushing up his sides. Even if they never figure out sex, he likes this. His husband, secure in his lap, happy and warm and safe.
“Okay,” Philza says, sitting up again. There's still laughter in his eyes, but the set of his jaw is determined now. Techno wonders if he can fight, if this is the same sort of face he would wear while sparring. “We've both got dicks, right? Gonna guess you've gotten off before, so we know how to do that and we can figure out the rest later?” His voice pitches up into a question at the end, like he's not quite sure.
“Sounds reasonable,” Techno says, nodding. “Never been injured when I got myself off at least, but I guess there's a first time for everything.” Philza laughs as Techno wraps a hand around himself, then reconsiders and shifts so their dicks are rubbing together in his grasp, Techno’s other hand wrapped around a slender hip. Philza’s laugh hitches around a moan, and Techno decides he likes that noise. Maybe if he does well enough here, Philza will let him try again.
Bolstered by that thought, he grasps a little tighter, the lube from earlier making his grip smooth as he twists upward. Philza bites his lip, his eyes dark, and it makes heat run all through Techno’s core. His entire world has narrowed to the brush of Philza’s lashes against his cheek and the feeling coiling tighter in his gut.
He’s not sure if it’s allowed, but he feels ready to burst, so he leans forward to kiss Philza, and his husband meets him with enthusiasm.
“That’s so good,” Philza breathes against his lips, and that’s good too, the knowledge that he’s doing good, he’s making his husband happy. “Litt-little tighter, mate?” he gasps, and Techno obliges, and oh, that is good.
They come together, curling into each until Philza’s forehead is pressed to Techno’s shoulder, breath hot against his skin. Techno runs his clean hand over Phil’s back, fingers bumping over his spine.
“So, uh. That was okay?” he says after a few minutes, after he’s caught his breath. Philza laughs again, not lifting his head. He’s kind of boneless in Techno’s lap, which is nice.
“Yeah, mate, that was pretty fuckin’ okay,” he agrees, leaning up to kiss Techno. “We can work on the rest. We’ve got time.”