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Sajah knew that Nyko hadn’t wanted him to return to Leukos at all, even to retrieve his belongings, after all that occurred to him last time. Thus, he had fallen asleep with the knowledge that he was concerning his friend—but that at least this time, Nyko did know where he was, and at least this time, he wasn’t in pain or robbed or kicked from the room, and at least this time, it came without much fear of repercussion. True, he couldn’t know exactly what to expect when he woke, but his and Leukos’ night on this occasion had not been violent, the other man seemed far more cooperative, subdued, encouraging, inviting.

And Sajahka had felt undeniably drawn to him from the beginning in several senses of the word.

It had been late, and by the end of their engagement with each other, it had been wholly impracticable to simply up and leave. Besides, he had been invited to stay. So he had, and did, and when he woke, it was early, the room still dark yet about him. Silent, but for the soft sound of his company’s breath. Warm with the heat of their bodies. He lingered in the silence, gathering his thoughts before even bothering to open his eyes. He knew what he would see, based upon what he could already feel and smell, and it was a welcome and pleasant exercise to simply appreciate those first few senses in full before bothering with vision.

Then, Leukos stirred, and Sajahka felt a pull at the corner of a lip in spite of himself, one earfin flicking like a cat roused by movement.

“You stayed…”

He grunted, tucking part of his smile into the pillow before opening one eye. The smile crept further up as he shifted his weight, an edge of teeth flashing until he was in a position to sign. «Observant this morning, Butterfly. You are as beautiful as in my dream, but with hair more like a magnificent bird’s nest.»

“Mm…”

Sajahka’s gaze trailed the other man’s movements, beginning on his face but then sliding down the shape of his body as he settled stomach down atop the bed. The slow trip and slide of inky strands down his back and over his sides in particular seemed entrancing for the moments of activity. When he stilled, though, Sajah found himself inspecting not the open beauty of it, but the risen lines that laced the soft blue skin beneath, marring the otherwise smooth and speckled expanse.

He frowned, but when Leukos then wriggled, shifting his weight against the sheets—Sajah leaned, tipping inward without so much as a gesture of answer, instead touching his lips to the niche between the end of Leukos’ jawline and the top of his throat. He kissed the bottom of an earfin.

Vaguely he understood he’d been asked a question, but in this particular instant, with Leukos’ scent all around them, his body so near and their combined warmth keeping the bed pleasant and welcoming, he didn’t see fit to waste any spare seconds on explaining how enjoyable the night had been. He had gone to sleep happy, and woken to the same. So far as he was concerned, if this was ‘punishment’ for his thievery, he would need to make note to act out more often.

Sajahka blinked. Admittedly the first reaction caught him off guard, and for a moment, he wondered if his approach had been unwelcome or triggered another surge of nerves in the man again somehow. After, though, as he observed the color to Leu’s ears and the tone of his voice, he came to conclude that no, there was no great crisis—he was simply abashed for some reason.

Snorting softly with his own pinch of amusement, Sajah leaned back, watching the man for further sign of action. He couldn’t exactly speak to him with his face tucked against the pillow, but Sajah was in no rush and, assured at least that Leukos wasn’t having a panic attack, it was easy enough to wait out the abashment and enjoy himself. He kissed the tip of Leu’s ear lightly.

Who does that?

The answer to that seemed evident enough to him.

Whatever color was in Leukos’ face previously seemed to, if anything, increase instead of calm, such that Sajahka could have sworn he felt the heat radiating from the other man’s body with the intensity of his blush. He couldn’t have discerned what action of his own was significant enough to trigger such a thing given the context of their shared presence—if anything, he might have thought he could inspire Leukos into finding more ways to share the morning with each other.

Instead, much before he could think about what was happening, the object of his interest shot up from the bed, and though Sajah’s hands raised instinctively to catch at the pillow when it was shoved towards him, it wasn’t fast enough to avoid a bewildered face full of it. J-just stop whatever you’re doing! As the other body on the bed scrambled back and off with all the grace of a startled cat tripping over itself in retreat, Sajah peeked over the edge of the pillow just in time to see Leukos’ feet snatching free of clinging sheets as he tumulted out of bed, and to water.

Sajahka watched for a moment, blinking off the last edges of sleep. And then, because nothing else felt more appropriate and it was coming whether he fought it or not, he laughed—not mocking, but a building, open sound loose with his own personal combination of amusement and utter mystification.

What was going through Leukos’ head Sajah couldn’t have said, but he was a dramatic little butterfly wasn’t he?

As Leukos splashed himself, Sajah watched with lazy interest, leaning back to prop an arm on the bed as he observed. He felt relaxed. Easy. As Leukos had so handily pointed out, perhaps the bed wasn’t as ‘nice’ as the first they’d shared, but it was a bed and that was high quality in itself by Sajah’s standards. Beyond that, he had slept solidly, woken to a beautiful man, and felt satisfied in more fundamental ways. The air was a comfortable temperature. He wasn’t immediately hungry.

And Leukos was right there, fiddling his brush through far more hair than Sajah could imagine attempting to keep up with.

«It was a beautiful sight,» he assured. It occurred to him to ask if the man wasn’t accustomed to kisses in the morning—but then came the thought that he didn’t actually know what was normal himself. Though it didn’t generally bother him and he wasn’t especially shy about it, this was the first person he’d engaged in such things with, casually or otherwise, and admittedly he had acted purely on impulse.

Leukos had been beside him, warm in the bed when he woke. It had seemed natural to want to lean and touch. Was it especially unusual to appreciate such an opportunity with his lips? If it was, he decided most people were missing out. It did, however, beg the question of how long he’d be welcome now. But only moments after the consideration occurred to him, Sajah dismissed it too, for the moment. He felt no need to rush himself out, and if Leukos wanted him gone before he saw fit to make his way, he was fairly confident the other man would make that clear.

In the meantime, there was nothing to stop him from waiting exactly where he was and observing Leu’s morning rituals with relaxed interest. «Can most who wake to you resist kissing you?»

At the mention of things which might have gone unnoticed before he woke, Sajah couldn’t help a soft snort because, well, «I suppose I know from personal experience that that is true. You didn’t notice my kisses the morning I left.»

Or anything else he’d taken at the time, until after.

«I am glad you made an exception.» He couldn’t say he was very impressed with the overall ‘boldness’ of the prior lot of the man’s lovers, but that was another matter. Perhaps Leukos preferred meeker, prettier things. He supposed he couldn’t begrudge him that, as he certainly understood the appeal. His toes wriggled and stretched atop the sheets as Leukos moved, and Sajah watched with almost amused fascination.

There must be so many steps to the man’s process. Brushes, water, and perfume had already been involved in the first handful of minutes, and he couldn’t have said he’d have been surprised if face powder added itself to the list. Instead, Leukos re-approached, and Sajah managed to feel a bud of satisfaction that one of his prior questions — How long would he be welcome? — had been answered: this long, at least. When the weight of Leukos' body dipped the bed beside him, he leaned, because whatever could be the point of scented oils but to have them sampled and appreciated, and the best position for that, Sajah thought, was surely with his nose tucked to the hair at the man’s temple, lips almost near enough to brush earfin again as he breathed in.

“Mm…” After a moment, he blew a light puff in the man’s ear, leaning back out with a lopsided grin. «Smells good, Butterfly.»

Sajah watched the process of Leukos’ braiding fingers with passive interest—simple at its core, but still impressive to watch nimble fingers work away and build a pattern. The words, though, took precedence, and he glanced to the man’s face. After a moment, he grunted, considering.

It was one of the most unique aspects to the man before him: they could communicate. Not even the other slaves had understood the hand signals he’d come to learn with Nyko—or, certainly not the vast majority of them. But, because they were rooted in the Oban hand language, Leukos recognized it by some cosmic coincidence. He must have been very highly paid-for entertainment at some age.

«They took my tongue when I was young, but long after I had learned to speak. I had already befriended my Songbird, and his Masters were of a big house. When we could not speak to each other, we needed to find a way and he stole from their library…he brought me a book they used to communicate and teach speech to their deaf children. We did not know all the words, but we learned them, and we made my language.»

It had been slow, and an ever developing process, but in the end, Sajah felt he might have gone mad if he couldn’t have communicated with a single other individual. The horror of the moment was a traumatic and buriable childhood memory. The degree to which it robbed him of forming bonds with those around him was the loss he was most furious for.

«I think it saved my sanity. You do not appreciate how much you say until you cannot.»