pollux ♊ syd orkney (softboiled) wrote in mythopoeics, @ 2012-01-08 23:27:00 |
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Entry tags: | !mini-log, !zurvan, mordred, pollux |
III.
The knock on the door startled Pollux, who'd been in the process of stripping himself down for bed. Limited to just his trousers and ruffled hair, he ran a hand through that hair before tugging open his front door. Rarely did he ever encounter strangers at his door, and so assuming it could only be one of few people, he shamelessly answered while underdressed.
A easy smile slipped across his lips at the familiar sight.
"I'm sorry, you must have the wrong door."
The decision to go see his sometimes lover was a spur of the moment one that Mordred came to after discovering his wife was going to Glastheim for the impending wedding. It wasn't that he didn't want to go with her, it was more that he didn't want her going without him. It was a strange paradox, one he didn't understand.
He needed to get away from all that, and he only knew one place he could.
"Oh? I can come back later, if you like," he joked, gesturing as if he was about to leave.
Skinny fingers shot out to snag the material at Mordred's wrist. "On second thought, I'm sure I've seen you somewhere," the twin continued with a grin as he tugged the other man inside. The door was pushed shut behind them. Somehow Pollux already knew the topic of Iseult would come up; inevitably, she would somehow, if not verbally than from a look he'd read or something in Mordred's eyes. And so he'd bring it up himself instead of delaying the inevitable.
He buried his fingers in the front of Mordred's shirt. "When do you leave for Glastheim?"
Meaning that yes, he'd seen her entry.
The grin that alighted on his lips at Pollux's actions was slight but genuine. "You may have, here or there," the soldier responded with ease. It was easy for him to forget about everything else going on in his life when he was with the other man, and Mordred hoped this time would be the same. He knew there was a chance the topic of his marriage would come up, he just hoped it was after he had a chance to relax.
He groaned at the question falling from Pollux's lips. "Soon. Too soon."
He wasn't going to ask where that came from.
"As a Svargan, you know what I'll say about it," Pollux explained with a fleeting roll of his eyes as he began to step backward and tug the taller man further inside. "Cold, lifeless. As a someone who's lived there, I'll tell you the threat of frostbite is not worth it."
Slowing to a stop, he cupped Mordred's face in his hands.
"Help you forget about it?"
"As a soldier, if I'm chosen to accompany the retinue then I will," Mordred started with a resigned sigh. "And as the man married to the sister of the diplomat it would look bad if I declined a chance to go."
Looking down at Pollux with a tender expression, he relaxed.
"Could you?"
One hand remained on his cheek while the other drifted up to tangle in his hair as the twin shifted closer, pressing his half-dressed self against his lover's body. "Mordred, my dear man," he murmured, leaning in for a soft brush of lips.
"It was an offer, not a question."