Writing is writing
Well I was going to work on something to submit to the Less Than Three Press Anthology. Instead I got mugged by a totally different story. A monstrous novel length story that will probably never fully get written. Sigh. Just what I need.
Oh well. At least I'm writing.
"I feel like an idiot," Jake said not for the first nor, Matthew was sure, the last time. The red robes that marked Jake as the Emperor's consort dragged on the carpets that lined the floor, weighed down by the heavy gold embroidery along the hems. "How does anyone move in these things?"
"Slowly," Matthew said. He was watching Jake put on the robes while sitting on the edge of the bed. "And preferably without tripping on the hem."
"Ha. Ha." Jake turned away from the mirror and back towards. The edges of the robe swung outward in a graceful arc. Traditionally the robes were worn with tiny bells around the ankles, but Matthew thought he liked being able to hear the soft shrrr, shrrr of cloth when Jake walked. "I only did that once. It takes practice to walk in these things."
"You could always wear the k'mascha. Not much chance of you tripping over the hems in that." Matthew watched as Jake made a face.
"I'm not wearing that. I'd look like a space hooker."
"It is a very traditional outfit," Matthew replied. Just like the robes Jake was wearing were traditional. Only the all encompassing robes had gone out of fashion with the Imperial court some four hundred years ago. More revealing styles, like the k'mascha, had replaced them.
"Space. Hooker."
Matthew got up from the bed and stepped close to Jake, invading his personal space. He put his hand on Jake's hips, finding them by feel through the layers of cloth. "I like the way you looked in k'mascha." When he spoke, his voice was low and throaty.
"You would." Despite his words, Jake's breath had quickened. Matthew lowered his face until he was nuzzling the side of Jake's neck. His tongue darted out and Matthew tasted Jake's skin. "Don't you need to get ready yourself, my Emperor?"
"They won't leave without me. They can wait." As far as Matthew was concerned, touching his consort was much more important than making sure the diplomatic mission to Earth started on time.
Jake didn't seem to agree. Matthew sighed as he took a step back. "I am not going to be the reason you're late. Again. Rodis would have a fit."
"Rodis wouldn't dare say anything to you," Matthew said. He stepped forward, but Jake stepped back, his arms raised as if ward him off. Matthew knew a lost cause when he saw one. He took a step back as Jake replied.
"No, but he'll give me the look. The same look all your advisors give me when you are late for something. The one that says 'Could you please not distract our Emperor from his duties with sex?'" Jake said. Matthew couldn't help but laughing.
"I wouldn't want you to get any looks on my account," Matthew said. He stroked his knuckles down Jake's cheek before turning towards the sitting room that was a part of the Imperial suite. "I guess I should go let the servants know that I am ready to be dressed and that you are not ravishing me in my bed chamber."
"My Emperor is too kind," Jake said dryly.
Oh well. At least I'm writing.
"I feel like an idiot," Jake said not for the first nor, Matthew was sure, the last time. The red robes that marked Jake as the Emperor's consort dragged on the carpets that lined the floor, weighed down by the heavy gold embroidery along the hems. "How does anyone move in these things?"
"Slowly," Matthew said. He was watching Jake put on the robes while sitting on the edge of the bed. "And preferably without tripping on the hem."
"Ha. Ha." Jake turned away from the mirror and back towards. The edges of the robe swung outward in a graceful arc. Traditionally the robes were worn with tiny bells around the ankles, but Matthew thought he liked being able to hear the soft shrrr, shrrr of cloth when Jake walked. "I only did that once. It takes practice to walk in these things."
"You could always wear the k'mascha. Not much chance of you tripping over the hems in that." Matthew watched as Jake made a face.
"I'm not wearing that. I'd look like a space hooker."
"It is a very traditional outfit," Matthew replied. Just like the robes Jake was wearing were traditional. Only the all encompassing robes had gone out of fashion with the Imperial court some four hundred years ago. More revealing styles, like the k'mascha, had replaced them.
"Space. Hooker."
Matthew got up from the bed and stepped close to Jake, invading his personal space. He put his hand on Jake's hips, finding them by feel through the layers of cloth. "I like the way you looked in k'mascha." When he spoke, his voice was low and throaty.
"You would." Despite his words, Jake's breath had quickened. Matthew lowered his face until he was nuzzling the side of Jake's neck. His tongue darted out and Matthew tasted Jake's skin. "Don't you need to get ready yourself, my Emperor?"
"They won't leave without me. They can wait." As far as Matthew was concerned, touching his consort was much more important than making sure the diplomatic mission to Earth started on time.
Jake didn't seem to agree. Matthew sighed as he took a step back. "I am not going to be the reason you're late. Again. Rodis would have a fit."
"Rodis wouldn't dare say anything to you," Matthew said. He stepped forward, but Jake stepped back, his arms raised as if ward him off. Matthew knew a lost cause when he saw one. He took a step back as Jake replied.
"No, but he'll give me the look. The same look all your advisors give me when you are late for something. The one that says 'Could you please not distract our Emperor from his duties with sex?'" Jake said. Matthew couldn't help but laughing.
"I wouldn't want you to get any looks on my account," Matthew said. He stroked his knuckles down Jake's cheek before turning towards the sitting room that was a part of the Imperial suite. "I guess I should go let the servants know that I am ready to be dressed and that you are not ravishing me in my bed chamber."
"My Emperor is too kind," Jake said dryly.