[The naysayers within the palace walls are right about one thing: it was Aether who lured Alhaitham into carnal pleasures first. What they don't understand is that it was nothing quite so unsophisticated as seduction; it was more a matter of simple consummation, of drawing their bodies together because their intellectual pursuits were already inextricably linked. Because, for the two of them, once such flimsy matters as benefits and risks and social expectations were weighed and discarded, there was no reason not to indulge in the other.

Still, Aether can't help but find it a little amusing. He lured the prince to bed first, sure — but despite his height and his build and the stoic demeanor which would better suit a man of greater years, Alhaitham is actually a rather young man. Sometimes he has a young man's appetites. Aether may have taught him how to eat, but Alhaitham learned how to crave all on his own.

With a smirk playing about his lips, Aether rests one hand over the hand on his belly, too, arching his lithe back just so. The imposing physicality of Alhaitham's body always feels so delicious against his own. Neither of them are hard just yet, but he can feel the warm bulge of Alhaitham's interest slotted against his curves. The storyteller licks his lips, slow and sensual.]

That depends on what you plan to do with your hand right now.

[His left hand is still resting on the hand atop his shoulder. Aether moves his right hand, rests it atop Alhaitham's wrist. This, too, is a lover's embrace — and the divine dancer never set out to become a prince's lover, but he finds that he doesn't mind the title in the least.]

I could tell you of our past. Or I could tell you of our future.

[The curl of his lips as he turns his head over his shoulder to press a kiss to Alhaitham's jaw — it's positively devilish.]

Or I could tell you what you're planning to do to me, before you've even done it.