Chapter 395: Three Days

Chapter 395: Chapter 395: Three Days

The first day of Liam’s heat passed almost entirely on the sofa.

Arik had expected restlessness, perhaps another temperature spike, or at minimum enough discomfort that the physician would insist on moving Liam back to the medical wing for observation.

Instead, once the morning examination confirmed that his glands were restructuring normally and the heat was progressing without complications, Liam decided the enormous cream sofa in their usual sitting room was apparently the only acceptable place in the entire imperial palace.

He occupied it beneath two blankets, wearing soft black trousers and the cream sweatshirt with the ridiculous bunny ears that he had once sworn he would never wear voluntarily.

Arik had made absolutely no comment when Liam chose it again.

His self-preservation remained functional.

He merely sat beside him and allowed Liam to curl against his chest while the wall display played one of Nuria’s most celebrated films from the middle decades of the Gate.

Thirty minutes later, Liam lifted his head.

"Why is everyone speaking like that?"

Arik looked at the screen.

The protagonist had just entered a marble hall to confront his estranged brother and was delivering a sentence with enough solemn pauses to make the disagreement sound like the collapse of civilization.

"That was fashionable."

"It sounds like theater."

"It essentially was."

"No one speaks naturally."

"They had nowhere to import films from."

"That does not explain why every conversation sounds as though the characters expect someone to write it on a monument."

Arik smiled.

Nuria’s years of isolation had produced its own peculiar film industry, entirely detached from whatever styles had evolved outside the Gate. Early productions had relied heavily on stage actors, practical ether effects, and elaborate historical dialogue, and apparently nobody had seen enough reason to change quickly.

Liam watched another exchange.

"They have spent six minutes walking toward each other."

"It builds tension."

"They are in the same room."

"It is a large room."

Liam stared at him.

Arik kissed his forehead.

"I did not direct it."

"That sounded defensive."

By the end of the film, Liam had identified seventeen architectural inconsistencies, four impossible uses of ether, and one sword that changed length between scenes.

Arik had spent more time watching Liam criticize it than watching the screen.

When the credits finally appeared, Liam looked satisfied.

"That was terrible."

"You watched the entire thing."

"I needed to know whether it improved."

"And?"

"No."

Arik laughed and pulled the blanket higher around him.

Liam immediately settled closer.

That reaction still affected Arik more than he wanted to admit.

Normally, Liam tolerated affection in public, sought it in private, and maintained a stubborn internal belief that anything remotely resembling being fussed over required at least token resistance.

Heat had erased the token resistance.

When Arik adjusted his pillow, Liam used it.

When Arik told him his cocoa was getting cold, Liam drank it.

When Arik opened his arms, Liam came closer.

Arik had discovered a previously unknown weakness for this version of his husband.

It was fortunate that Liam had chosen someone with at least moderate self-control.

"Another one?" Arik asked.

Liam considered the film catalog.

Then selected a cartoon.

Arik looked at him.

Liam looked back.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You are judging me."

"I would never."

The cartoon began with a tiny blue creature attempting to steal fruit from an imperial orchard.

Liam tucked his feet beneath Arik’s thigh and leaned more comfortably into him.

Within ten minutes, he was smiling.

Arik surrendered completely.

They watched four episodes.

Then six.

By the time Liam fell asleep halfway through the seventh, his head was beneath Arik’s chin, and one bunny ear had folded across Arik’s shoulder.

Arik did not move for almost an hour.

—

The second day began with hot cocoa.

Liam woke late, discovered Arik beside him in bed, and immediately moved closer until his face was pressed against the hollow of Arik’s throat.

Arik opened one eye.

"Good morning."

Liam made a sleepy sound.

"Cocoa."

Arik smiled.

That was apparently a complete sentence now.

"You want cocoa?"

"Yes."

"Breakfast first."

Liam frowned.

Arik waited.

The internal struggle was visible.

Eventually Liam sighed.

"Fine."

Arik kissed the tip of his nose.

"You are very brave."

"I hate you."

"No, you don’t."

Liam tucked himself closer.

"Unfortunately."

Breakfast happened in bed because Arik had no interest in pretending he possessed stronger principles than he actually did.

Liam ate fruit, warm bread, and eggs while half-covered by the blankets, then accepted the enormous mug of cocoa Arik had requested from the kitchen.

The first sip produced an expression of such immediate pleasure that Arik nearly ordered an entire chocolate plantation purchased.

He restrained himself.

By afternoon, Liam had returned to cartoons.

Arik answered election correspondence from a tablet while Liam sat between his legs on the sofa, resting against his chest and occasionally pausing the episode to explain why a fictional ether engine violated basic thermodynamic principles.

"It is a children’s cartoon."

"That does not excuse bad engineering."

"The vehicle flies."

"Then the engineering matters more."

Arik looked at the animated machine currently powered by a glowing purple crystal and decided arguing would only prolong this.

"You are right."

Liam twisted around.

"That was suspiciously easy."

"You are in heat."

"That does not make me right."

"No. You being an engineer makes you convinced you are right."

Liam narrowed his eyes.

Arik kissed him before the argument developed.

That worked remarkably well.

Liam turned back toward the screen with pink cheeks.

Arik smiled into his hair.

—

By the third evening, Liam had become restless enough to abandon cartoons completely.

"Horror."

Arik looked up from the election briefing.

"What?"

"I want a horror film."

"You complained yesterday that Nurian cinema was too dramatic."

"That should improve horror."

Arik could not argue with the logic.

The first film involved an isolated mountain estate, a corrupted ether well, and a family who continued entering the basement despite increasingly persuasive evidence that the basement wanted them dead.

Liam lasted forty minutes before objecting.

"No intelligent person would go down there."

"They heard a child crying."

"They have no children."

"That is why it is frightening."

"That is why it is obviously a trap."

Arik laughed.

On-screen, the protagonist opened the basement door.

Liam pulled the blanket higher.

Arik noticed.

"I thought it was obvious."

Liam glared above the edge of it.

Arik pulled him into his lap.

Liam came willingly, rearranging himself until his legs rested across Arik’s thighs and his back was supported by Arik’s chest.

The next jump scare made him flinch.

Arik tightened his arms around him.

Liam immediately said, "I was not scared."

"Of course not."

"You jumped too."

"I reacted to you."

"That is convenient."

Arik kissed his temple.

The cocoa on the table had begun cooling, so Arik reached for it and placed the mug in Liam’s hands.

"Drink."

Liam did.

Then he froze.

Arik felt the realization arrive.

Liam slowly lowered the mug.

"You are enjoying that."

"Immensely."

"I knew it."

"You have been very cooperative."

"I am still capable of biting you."

"Yes."

Arik smiled.

Liam studied him suspiciously before turning back toward the film.

After several minutes, he quietly took another sip.

Arik’s smile widened against his hair.

The horror film ended shortly after midnight.

Liam declared the ending predictable, the ether mechanics insulting, and the monster design surprisingly good.

Then he yawned so widely that Arik closed the second film before it could begin.

"I wanted another."

"Tomorrow."

"The heat might be gone tomorrow."

"That does not ban horror movies."

Liam considered this.

Apparently satisfied, he allowed Arik to lift him.

Three days earlier, Liam would have informed him that his legs functioned.

Tonight he simply wrapped his arms around Arik’s neck and rested his head against his shoulder while Arik carried him toward the bedroom.

Autumn rain whispered against the windows behind them, the palace nearly silent beyond their private rooms.

For three days, Arik’s world had narrowed to warm blankets, ridiculous cartoons, terrible old films, horror movies Liam pretended did not scare him, and an unreasonable quantity of hot cocoa.

Arik found that he liked it very much.