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It was a sports injury. Laurent berated Damen for his foolishness from the moment he was carried off the field on a stretcher and was still continuing--in Veretian--about Damen’s stubborn and ridiculous ways as Paschal saw to his treatment.
Jord pulled Laurent away from the kings’ chambers for a moment to give Paschal some privacy and silence, and Laurent finally quieted in the hallway.
“He’ll be fine,” Jord said.
Laurent let out a shaky breath. “When he fell--”
Nikandros approached down the hallway, also looking shaken. “How is he?”
Paschal came out of the bedroom. All three of them turned to the physician expectantly. “He’s going to be fine,” said Paschal.
There was a moment of thankful silence.
“However,” Paschal said.
Laurent looked up sharply.
“He is a bit confused at the moment and needs to rest.”
Laurent’s gaze was focused. “What do you mean, ‘a bit confused’?”
Paschal hesitated. “It’s not uncommon, after a blow to the head. To mix up words, or to not remember exactly how one was injured.”
“And is that what he is doing?” said Laurent.
Paschal demurred.
Laurent went in and sat with Damen for a while as he slept, and then later traded shifts with Nikandros. He went to wash, and change his clothes, and when he returned to Damen, his husband was awake and trying to get out of bed, and being held down by his friend Nikandros.
Nikandros looked up at Laurent with relief. Damen caught sight of Laurent entering the room as well and paused in his struggle.
“Hello,” Damen said to Laurent, visibly looking Laurent up and down. His eyes flicked briefly to the golden cuff on Laurent’s wrist.
“Hello,” Laurent said, matching Damen’s use of Akielon and looking to Nikandros with a raised eyebrow.
“He does not want to rest,” Nikandros said. “He’s been asking for the king.”
“For the king?”
“For the king his father,” said Nikandros pointedly.
“I see,” said Laurent.
Damen’s eyes were still on Laurent but his voice was addressed to his friend. “You have always had excellent taste in slaves, old friend.”
Nikandros made a choked noise. Laurent let one corner of his mouth rise.
“Come here,” Damen gestured. Laurent seated himself agreeably enough next to Damen on the bed, if only so he would be better able to keep Damen in the bed.
Damen admired him. “I will have to purchase you,” Damen said to him.
“Oh, you already have,” said Laurent silkily. “You paid a high price.”
Damen made a satisfied noise. “You are quite bold, though. You must be special if I tolerate this attitude.”
Nikandros coughed. “I’ve often thought that.”
Laurent laughed. “I’m from Vere,” he told Damen.
Damen eyed him. “Is it true, what they say about Veretians?” His hands were wandering freely on Laurent’s person, and Laurent moved one of them from his thigh to his waist.
“Probably not,” Laurent said. “But what is it that they say about Veretians?”
“Kastor always says that--”
Nikandros clapped a hand over Damen’s mouth. Laurent raised an eyebrow at Nikandros as Damen mumbled around his friend’s hand.
“Kastor...isn’t known for his social niceties about Veretians,” said Nikandros. “Damen,” Nikandros said. “You must rest, the physician said so. If you move around too much it could damage your head and affect your balance.”
Damen’s hand had made its way to Laurent’s thigh again. “Perhaps if I had some kind of incentive to stay in bed,” he suggested to Laurent.
Nikandros looked visibly uncomfortable and on the verge of apologizing for his king’s behavior.
“An incentive,” said Laurent, as though he were considering it.
“Yes,” said Damen.
Laurent turned to Nikandros. “You can go,” he said, and Nikandros’s relief was visible.
“Are you certain?” said Nikandros.
“I can manage him,” Laurent told the kyros, and Nikandros left the two of them.
“You are uppity,” said Damen, and he sounded half-affronted and half-admiring about it. “To speak so to a kyros.”
Laurent heard the door shut behind Nikandros and gave his full attention to Damen. “I am going to remind you that you said that,” he promised.
“You should call me exalted,” Damen said. Damen was leaning in; Laurent could feel Damen’s breath on his neck.
Laurent made a humming noise. “And if I do not?” he purposefully left off Damen’s title.
Damen had no response. He grasped Laurent’s chin in his hand, and used it to hold Laurent’s head in place when he leaned in to kiss him. It was interesting, kissing this fragment of Damen’s past. In some ways it was the same. Damen smelled the same, and his body felt the same on the bed next to Laurent. But meeting his lips wasn’t the same, and there was no recognition, no affection in how their eyes met when Damen pulled away.
“Later,” Laurent said, letting his voice be a promise and moving one of Damen’s hands from his thigh to his waist again. “If you rest,” he entreated, “Then later you can tell me what they say about Veretians, and I will tell you if it is true.”
Damen grumbled, but agreed to rest “for a minute” and was shortly asleep again. His hand had found its way to Laurent’s thigh again, but Laurent let it stay there while he rested.
---
Damen awoke with a headache. Not the kind that came from overindulgence in drink, but the kind he remembered from a tumble off his horse in his teenage years. He reached a hand up gingerly to his scalp to feel at his hairline, and there was a large and tender bruise. He grunted slightly as he felt at it.
Laurent stirred in his arms, half-sitting up. “You’re awake,” said Laurent.
“Yes,” Damen agreed. “My head hurts.”
Laurent yawned. “I suppose it would.”
“I had the most horrible dream,” Damen continued. “I dreamed--” he stopped for a moment, looking at Laurent. There was a smirk of something in Laurent’s eyes.
Laurent spoke. “Are you going to tell me now what it is that they say about Veretians?”
Damen groaned. He could feel the blood flushing his face.
“Tell me,” Laurent insisted.
“It used to be barracks-talk that Veretians were...good with their mouths,” Damen said, amending what Kastor had used to say somewhat to be less explicit.
“And have you found that to be true?” Laurent seemed on the edge of laughter.
“I might need more evidence to be sure,” said Damen, and the throbbing in his head faded a bit at the sound of Laurent’s laughter.