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The tower was saved, the world was still ending, and Kaladin Stormblessed was at a party. He knew it was ironic that the surprise of being a Radiant - the surprise of violence and honor and fate - had worn off well before this secondary surprise: that life still went on, that he had friends, that humans were humans, no matter what. Himself included.
So, he was at a party. Shallan had invited him, of course. It was always either she or Adolin dragging him out of his room. They had kept him alive that year after the battle in Thaylena, in their own annoying way. Kaladin suspected that if he grew old, he would feel nostalgic for that year before the invasion of the tower, when, between the horrors and stressors of war, he and the ones he loved had felt safe enough to celebrate, to date, to bicker and train and just exist. Even through his misery, that time had provided him the most safety and consistency he'd had since his childhood.
The party was nominally for the envoy's return from Shadesmar, but it felt more like a gesture towards those days. They were gone, already gone. The war had changed again, mutated like the evil it was. But this, here, was familiar. Kaladin couldn't bregrudge anyone this waypost before continuing on into the unknown.
This meant he couldn't begrudge it of himself, either, which was proving harder. It was a new step for him, a new thought. Giving himself the space he gave others. Space to rest, to mourn, to feel without judgment. The only catch was at this particular moment, all of this new wisdom and peace was culminating in him sitting alone in the corner of the noisy, crowded room, watching Adolin Kholin.
The princeling was in his element, talking to each successive person who approached him as if they were his lover, his best friend, his very favorite person. His eyes danced; his cheeks flushed; his hair shined almost entirely golden in a trick of the light. He was dressed flamboyantly, in a jacket so fuschia it was almost red, hanging open to reveal a much simpler white shirt, waist belted in a slash of Kholin blue. He looked ridiculous and impractical, of course, but in that infuriating, Adolin way. Ridiculous and impractical, but somehow still good.
Adolin said something to Skar and leaned in to hear his reply. His eyes were shining, and he started laughing even before Skar opened his mouth, as if just assuming the humor of what was to come. A pre-pleasure. On a day when he was feeling less charitable, Kaladin would have taken it for artifice. A lighteyes, so desperate to entertain and be entertained, settling for a pantomime of connection. Kaladin almost wished he could conjure some of that comfortable disdain; without it, all that was left was a kind of pang in his chest and a sour curl on his lip. Adolin slung an arm around Skar's shoulder. Kaladin sank further into the bench, took another sip of ale, and gave up trying to look anywhere else.
"He's a natural."
Kaladin managed to not flinch or groan. He settled for rubbing at the bridge of his nose.
"Shallan, I'm happy you all returned. I came out like you asked. Now leave me be. Today is not the day."
"Ooh, very intimidating." He fixed her with a hard glare, then looked back at his target. Shallan let the silence drag, then asked, impatient, "You're not going to ask me what he's a natural at?"
Kaladin flicked his fingers in Adolin's general direction. "Applying cologne?"
"Ruling."
"I wasn't aware ruling consisted of sticking your nose so very deep up everyone's--"
"My, Stormblessed, a little more than our typical level of surly today, are we?" She shifted next to him. "It's like he has his own gravity, is what I meant. In better times, our king would be like him. Beloved. Agreeable." Kaladin looked over at her, watched her watch Adolin with a dark, assessing gaze. "I know Jasnah is the right queen for this time we are in, but it's a shame, I think. A shame he won't see real rule. The Kholins finally bred a true noble after all that conquest, and he doesn't even get to see it through."
A barb died on Kaladin's tongue. Poor Highprince, poor lighteyes. Boo hoo. But there was a tease to her voice that told him it was half in jest already. And, to be fair to Adolin, his Princedom was in ruin, firmly in the hands of the enemy. Misfortune had found even the luckiest of them.
Shallan's eyes pinned Kaladin suddenly, and he realized how close she'd slid in next to him on the bench. He shifted uncomfortably, thinking of prying eyes and needless gossip. She smiled, as if pleased at his squirming, and for half a moment, he thought he recognized an echo of Veil there in the shine of her eyes.
"Come to the party just to sulk, then? Not suspicious at all."
"I'm not sulking."
"No, you're right. You're not. You're pining."
He felt his jaw tense. "You're paranoid."
Her hair bled gold in an instant, surprising him. A small part of him had been hoping for a fight - a distraction.
"I have been watching you." An arched brow. "It is not paranoia. It is observation."
Kaladin felt himself cycle through defensiveness, fear, self-loathing. He stopped himself. Feel it. Own it. Move past it. He broke eye-contact to look back over at Adolin, who was now leaned over a game of cards, distracting both players. They didn't seem to mind. Kaladin spoke, almost against his will.
"Has he always been like this?"
Adolin made the serving girl laugh and blush as she served the card players another round.
"Yes." Radiant paused. "This cannot be a surprise to you."
Kaladin rolled his shoulders. "I've had a lot going on, okay?"
"You are even more clueless than I have been assuming." It should have stung, but he heard a rare hint of humor in Radiant's voice. She continued, voice lower, "Although tonight he is in fine form, even I must admit."
"Does it bother you?"
"He's always had a wandering eye, been quick to flatter. Marriage did not fix that. I did not expect it to." Radiant shifted next to him, putting a proper distance between them with another small sniff. "Oaths are more than words, Master Windrunner. They are the people who make them, the times they are made in, the things left out. Adolin is a better partner than we could have hoped for."
"That's a lot of words to avoid answering me." Kaladin looked back over to her in time to see the ends of her hair flame vivid red. Shallan smiled at him, and he smiled back.
She spoke carefully. "I've realized that it's all shell, no meat. There's no intention behind it anymore. Sure, he used to take Pell behind the barrack after a spar, but now it's just this. Looks, laughter." She gestured to Adolin as he laughed at Pell's (surely terrible) joke. The man had a worse sense of humor than Shallan. "And I wouldn't deny him this. Look how he glows."
They watched him for a moment. Shallan mistook Kaladin's silence for scrutiny and sighed, "I know, I know, I still haven't answered."
Kaladin looked back at her, glad, not for the first time, that she could not read his mind, no matter how supernaturally perceptive she seemed. What was crossing his mind right then involved the state of Adolin after a particularly tiring spar, and it was better left unshared. She smiled at him again, warm and familiar and somehow shy. "It does bother me, sometimes." She pressed a fingernail into the wood of the table. "Other times... it doesn't." She leaned toward him, eyes intense. "Radiant spoke true. Oaths are complex." She blushed and swallowed. "I'm going to retire for tonight. Keep an eye on him, will you? For me."
She almost looked like she was going to say more, but instead turned and left him alone at the table, staring at the small crescent left by her nail in the rough grain of the wood.
The buzzing of the drink somehow slowed the inevitable panic the conversation should cause him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this way, the last time he'd even looked at someone and thought about connection, about touch, about companionship. Probably it had been about Shallan herself, those months out on the plateau, just before everything changed forever.
His stupid brain was rounding back to shame and confusion when he noticed where Shallan was headed - straight for her husband. He felt a thrill of fear, back straightening, nerves prickling. Shallan brushed a hand across Adolin's back. He turned immediately, somehow glowing even brighter when he saw her there, and scooped her into a hug that was a little too familiar for the setting.
He released her, but she leaned back in, and Kaladin knew he should look away, knew he shouldn't stare at his friends embracing, smiling, saying farewell. It would make him feel lonely. It always did. Now, though, he was distracted by intense worry at what she might say - about what she had meant before.
Adolin ran a hand through the ends of her hair and nodded as he listened, then absolutely beamed in response to something she said. He leaned in and said something back, straight into her ear, close enough to overcome the din of the room. Kaladin felt frozen in place, rooted. Waiting for one or both of them to look over at him. For eyes full of disdain, laughter, pity, concern. Anything. But neither looked his way. Shallan's lips moved again; Adolin shook his head, kissed her forehead and squeezed her shoulder. She smiled back up at him then pushed quickly through the crowd, toward the door. Adolin's back was turned to Kaladin, watching her go. Then, he threw himself into a chair, slammed a fist to the table, and demanded a song.
Relief landed slowly, lightly. Now who was being paranoid? Of course they wouldn't talk about him. Shallan speaking in riddles was nothing new. He took a slow sip and decided it wasn't worth trying to dissect. There had always been uneasy tension between all three of them. Acknowledging that was uncomfortable, but not especially worrying. He settled back again, crossing his arms over his chest, allowing his eyes to settle back on the princeling.
After all, Shallan asked him to keep watch.
Two hours later, Kaladin finally convinced himself to leave. The room was about half as full as it had been, still warm with bodies but no longer uncomfortably so. Adolin was still there, of course, sprawled in a chair, deep in conversation with two bannermen Kaladin didn't know by name. His fears had been unfounded; since Shallan left, Adolin had barely glanced at him except for one lazy, friendly salute from across the room.
He needed to leave, though, because some kind of madness was burning through him. Another half stein of ale was not doing him any favors. There was accepting negative feelings, and then there was whatever this was. He was jealous, jealous of everyone in the room, jealous of anyone who could talk, love, enjoy each other. And jealous, most of all, of a storming Alethi Highprince who had never struggled with any of that in his entire storming life.
With one last look at Adolin, he stood quickly, dusted himself off, and took care to balance against unsteadiness brought on by drink. He didn't bother bidding anyone farewell; he was sure no one much minded.
The hallway was pleasantly cool. Kaladin let it ground him. The tunnels in this part of the tower were lined with odd shelves and nooks, built right into the stone of the wall. Queen Navani said it used to be some kind of communal study center, although to Kaladin that didn't make much sense, since they hadn't found a room in the area big enough to host an actual collection of texts. No one asked Kaladin his thoughts about that kind of thing, though. Nor should they. Navani probably knew about disappearing books or something similarly ridiculous.
He reached out, let his hand brush against the smooth of the wall, ran fingers up the seam of a shelf and back down on the other side. He realized that wind was whipping his face; he was lashing himself gently upward and forward without really meaning to, instincts taking over somehow in his drink-loosened body. Embarrassed, he slowed and centered himself, and, right then, heard a scraping sound behind him.
He spun on his heel, falling into a defensive stance and burning the alcohol out of his system with a quick breath of stormlight from the pouch at his hip.
"Wait up, bridgeboy! Kelek, you can move fast when you want to!" Adolin rounded the corner, jogging and smiling, and laughed when he saw Kaladin's stance. "Wanna duel, then?"
Kaladin rolled his eyes and relaxed to standing. "Party over so soon?"
Adolin shrugged and strolled closer to him. "The party follows me, of course. We didn't get to talk! Wanted to talk to you."
He was smiling that same smile, the one Kaladin had been watching ebb and flow all night, and it should have made it worth less, should have made it feel hollow. But Kaladin knew it didn't, and knew it was no use pretending otherwise. His mood was no fault of Adolin's. He smiled back, short and small.
"What's to talk about?"
"I don't know, Kal." He started to walk in the direction Kaladin had been heading, and Kaladin fell in beside him without too much thought. "The entirety of the tower occupation? My aunt becoming a bondsmith? Your storming shardplate? Real, actual, living shardplate?"
Kaladin shrugged, unimpressed, which made Adolin laugh fondly.
"Alright, then, how about just you?"
"I'm better."
Adolin nodded. "I mean, there's the obvious." His eyes trailed up from Kaladin's eyes, and he had to fight the reflex to rub at his forehead, to make sure it was still gone. Instead, he nodded back. Adolin studied him for another moment, then asked, "But the rest? Okay? Good? Incredible?"
"I mean, I'm still me."
"Obviously, Stormface," Adolin answered easily. "I don't think you spoke to a single person all night."
"I talked to plenty of people."
"Name two."
Kaladin's eyes narrowed. "Shallan."
"And?"
"... Radiant."
It earned him another laugh. They walked a few more steps, then Adolin grabbed in by the forearm, slowing them both. He spoke firmly. "Seriously, Kal. We don't have to dredge it all up right now. But you've been feeling better?"
"Yes." He hesitated, and Adolin stayed quiet, waiting for him to get it out. "It's hard to know for sure. But I think so. Really."
One side of Adolin's mouth pulled up. "I am glad. Aren't you going to ask me how I've been? I was almost imprisoned for eternity." He touched a hand to his chest, bowing slightly for show.
"You seem very much the same. Somehow I'm not concerned."
He pouted. "No one ever worries about me."
Kaladin struggled against a smile. "Maybe if you had problems. Sulked a little."
"Act like you, you mean."
"I don't sulk," Kaladin said on instinct.
"No? What were you doing tonight then?" Kaladin realized that Adolin had backed him into the same corner that Shallan had. Storming lightyes. He glared but made no reply, so Adolin continued, eyebrows raised, "Other than watching me, I mean."
He took a slow step forward, and Kaladin took one back.
Kaladin let disapproval creep into his voice. "I've just never noticed what a flirt you are."
Adolin took another step forward and ran a hand through his hair.
"That's not really a secret, Kal."
Of course not. Kaladin was quickly realizing that maybe everyone had been aware but him. Which made sense, since he usually had difficulty noticing that sort of thing even in the most obvious of circumstances. And that meant...
"You were flirting with me. On the plateau. In the war camps. Last year - in Kholinar."
Adolin's smile grew wider - pure, guileless happiness.
"Yes, of course."
"Of course." Kaladin said it like it was a statement, but it was a question.
Adolin indicated with both hands, gesturing broadly at Kaladin, up and down.
"I mean, come on. I had to try."
He took another step forward. It was ridiculous, getting backed against a wall by a man several inches shorter than him. Kaladin let it happen anyway, felt his body hit the thin vertical edge of a shelf, felt the cool of the rock start to seep through his shirt along his spine.
"But..." Kaladin forced himself to say it. "We're friends."
"Who better to flirt with than friends?"
"You're my best friend."
That stopped Adolin where he was, but his smile didn't drop.
"Yeah, Kal, and you're mine. My only bridgeboy, remember?" Kaladin just glared back, so Adolin continued, "If you wanted to talk to me today, you should have." He leaned a hand on the wall, just above Kaladin's shoulder, and licked his lips. "I thought maybe you were playing bodyguard again. You want to escort me home, Stormblessed? Make sure I get there safe and sound?"
"Careful, Adolin," he said after a long moment, and it sounded more like a challenge than he had intended. Adolin smiled in anticipation. Pre-pleasure, sure that Kaladin would give him something worth smiling about. "Last time that ended with us in jail."
"You ended up in jail." Adolin punctuated with a single finger poking at Kaladin's breastbone. "I just got my ass saved." He blinked slowly before allowing, "And then went to jail, but, you know, by choice."
His finger was still there, radiating sharp pain across Kaladin's chest, through him, into him. Or something like pain, maybe. It hurt, anyway. Ached. Just like looking at him, just like knowing him.
"Adolin, I don't-"
He cut off when he heard a voice down the hall, then another. Laughter and quiet, indistinct conversation. Adolin's hand dropped, and his head turned toward it; Kaladin surprised himself by not looking, by instead following the lines of Adolin's jaw, to his throat, to the loose collar of his shirt.
Adolin looked back at him, eyes lit up with mischief. He stepped to the side and towards the wall and seemed to melt into the shadows. Kaladin squinted in confusion, then followed, rounding the shelf and finding there, instead of a blank wall, the entrance to a small alcove. Adolin was back on him in a moment, even closer, pressing him into the cubby wall, his breathing loud in the pitch darkness.
The voices grew progressively closer, then a small group of people passed, partygoers headed home, lantern light bobbing along with them, light blading into the alcove, allowing Kaladin to see Adolin's face. He was smiling, of course. They were both frozen in place, even pausing breath, eyes locked. The group passed without glancing their way, and slowly, the light went with them. Inky darkness fell over them both again, but Kaladin could still feel him there, warm, bright, lit from within.
Without letting himself question, he grasped Adolin's collar in the dark, on target despite the blackness, looking for that sting, that hurt. He felt Adolin take a ragged breath in, and then they were on each other.
For a few perfect minutes, there was nothing but this - Adolin's lips, the smoothness of his cheeks and jaw, his thick hair between Kaldin's fingers. A briefly blank mind, tugging in his gut, and closeness. Excruciating, wonderful closeness. Adolin kissed like fury, which Kaladin should have known to expect. There were hands on him, and he had hands on Adolin - an arm, soft hair at the base of the head, a smooth, wide back. And then, Heralds, the wet, the tongue, the heat, the need. The dark, the light.
Adolin's leg pushed between Kaladin's; their hips locked together so easily, so naturally. Kaladin heard himself make a small, needy sound, and that was enough to knock him out of the madness. He slid his hand down from Adolin's hair to his shoulder and pushed on it with just enough to get his point across. Adolin stepped back, panting. Kaladin reached down between them to pull his pouch off his belt, open it, and toss it gently to the floor. Much-needed light flooded the alcove.
Kaldin had to steel himself, because Adolin looked better than he ever had there in the dim spherelight - chest heaving, eyes careful, lips wet. Maybe that was a factor of having had him for a moment. Difficult to un-know. Kaladin let his knees buckle, back dragging down along the wall until he sat with his legs bent in front of him. His head fell into his hands.
"This isn't right."
He heard a sigh above him, more annoyed than aggrieved, and it made him glance up sharply. Adolin was mid-eye-roll. More to himself than to Kaladin, he said, "I told Shallan. I told her there was no way she had been clear enough."
He stripped off his jacket quickly, all playfulness gone from his manner, and then dropped to the floor. Kaladin's mind was holding firm somewhere between self-judgment and an oddly insistent, distant spark of hope. Adolin settled himself sitting cross-legged, back against the opposite wall, and started to roll his sleeves up to his elbows, apparently out of some kind of anxiety.
"What did she say to you? Exactly?"
"Tonight?"
"Yes, genius, tonight."
"She said your flirting doesn't mean anything anymore. That you're a good husband." Kaladin let the words take on a little venom.
"What else?"
Kaladin pressed his lips together against a twinge of embarrassment. What was the point? They'd already kissed. Kaladin had already liked it. Their relationship had already changed.
"She said I was pining for you."
He half-expected a playful gloat, as before, but Adolin just held his eyes, nodded, and said, "And? Anything more?"
"She said... that oaths are complex."
Adolin rolled his eyes, but Kaladin could tell it was at Shallan, not at him. "Ash's eyes... she thought that would get through your thick skull?"
The pieces were, of course, falling into place for Kaladin. In battle, when you sensed a blade behind you, it was an indication to check your back - quickly. Paranoia, at times, spoke true.
"Are you trying to say she is okay with this?"
Adolin let out a little laugh. "She asked to stay and watch. I told her not tonight." Kaladin felt his face freeze, and Adolin gestured at him. "See? You spook like a horse."
"I'm sorry, is this just another social more I'm having trouble with? When your married best friends proposition you, just stay calm!"
Adolin let out another short laugh. "Well, if you're joking, I guess I didn't completely mess everything up."
Kaladin paused for a moment, then allowed, "If it is messed up, it is equally my fault as well."
"And Shallan's fault too. Oaths are complex? Oaths? Are complex?"
Kaladin, feeling perversely protective, quickly added, "She also asked me to keep an eye on you."
Adolin shook his head slowly. "She and I are going to have a talk about straightforward communication when it comes to honor-bound bridgemen. And Alethi Highprinces, for that matter."
"You are sure?" Kaladin asked, and Adolin cocked his head. "You're sure of her feelings on this?"
"Yes. We've discussed it. At length."
That, in a way, was no better. Kaladin grimaced. "You had this planned?"
"Not like you mean." He ran a hand through his hair, which was sticking up at all angles. "It was always a hypothetical. But tonight... I'd never seen you like you were tonight. It felt like there might actually be a chance. So, Shallan was supposed to relieve your conscience a little, and then I was going to take my best shot. I should have known you are too formidable for that."
"You mean I'm too stubborn."
"Too honorable." Adolin smiled, that flirty gleam finally back. "And yeah, too stubborn." There was that frustrating Adolin quality again - no matter how ridiculous, no matter how impractical, Kaladin just couldn't help but like him. He smiled and said, almost to himself, "I did manage a snog, though. That's got to count for something."
"It's... it's just me?" Asking this brought on another wave of almost unbearable shame, and Kaladin started to wonder if this was just a side effect of the level of desire, of intimacy.
"No, Kal, I'm whoring myself out to the whole tower. Shallan's my madame." Kaladin's lips twitched, and they both started laughing at the same time. Adolin giggled, then said, "Yes, you idiot, it's just you."
"I don't understand."
"Don't worry, I'll teach you the basics."
Kaladin felt his cheeks heat. "Not that." Adolin waited, patient, eyes bright. Kaladin felt on the edge of something, looking over. "Why?"
More words would have made it clearer - why now, why this, why me - but Kaladin couldn't force himself to elaborate. Adolin seemed to understand anyway. He rolled himself onto his knees and crawled over to sit next to Kaladin, head leaned against the wall.
"I don't know." Kaladin watched his throat bob. Adolin licked his lips and said, "I don't know what it is about the three of us. I just know that it's never felt like enough. Want you... want to be closer to you." Bright, earnest blue eyes speared him. "I love you."
His chest was aching again, so Kaladin deflected. "No courting for me, then? Straight to hallway dalliances?"
Adolin smiled bigger and said, "Maybe this is my style." He basked for a moment in Kaladin's glare, then added, "Fine, I'll take you to dinner. Oh wait, that's what I've spent all of the last year doing."
"You set me up with Lyn! You were newly married!"
"I'm not sure how many ways I can tell you that the door has always been open, you just don't seem to be familiar with the concept of doors."
They looked at each other for a moment.
"Out with it, then," Adolin said. When Kaladin stayed silent, Adolin reached out to poke him in the arm, hard, and said, "I know that face. There's more eating at you. Come on, I'll talk to you all night if it helps you feel better about it."
"I don't..." Kaladin gripped his hands in tight fists as he said it - tense, release, tense. "I don't want to ruin anything. I can't hurt what you both have."
"Hey." Adolin waved his hand, catching Kaladin's gaze and forcing eye contact. "We just said this, before. There's three people involved here, not just one. No matter what you think, you aren't responsible for every misfortune in your general vicinity. If anything is ruined, it will be on all of us, and we'll all figure out how to fix it together."
Kaladin frowned and said, "I love you."
"Is that another issue I need to resolve? Or..."
Despite himself, it made Kaladin's mouth curl up. He brought a tentative hand up to Adolin's cheek, traced fingertips along his jaw, dimples, nose, eyelids.
"Alright."
It earned him the biggest smile of the whole night - ear to ear, beaming, shining, radiant.
"Yeah?"
Kaladin let his hand drop. "Yeah."
He was tensed for a push, aggression, desperation, like before. But it wasn't like that. Now, he could see Adolin's face, could watch as Adolin seemed to just take him in, one feature at a time. Adolin shifted until their thighs were touching and leaned in. Close, so close. Their noses brushed, and then Adolin pressed a single, lingering kiss into his cheek. He pulled back, caught Kaladin's eyes, then leaned in again, this time on the opposite side, and kissed his other cheek, sweet and chaste and slow.
Kaladin could only stay still and breathe. He'd never felt quite this way before, not with Tarah, not with Lyn; it almost felt like panic, it almost felt like shame, but inverted with an opposite charge, something vulnerable and pleasurable, too much and not enough. Adolin dragged his lips down, down, to Kaladin's jaw, then to his neck, then to the soft spot behind his ear, sucking softly, and Kaladin had to let out a sound. He hadn't wanted so much, so badly, ever in his life. How else could he have let this happen? Was something the matter with him?
He threaded fingers through Adolin's hair and tugged upward, needing distraction, needing it now. Adolin went easily, only stopping briefly on the way up to press lips into the point of Kaladin's chin. But Heralds above, this didn't make the not-shame, the not-panic any less. He felt on fire everywhere they had touched, everywhere they might touch. Everywhere, alight. And the taste of him, the smell of his cologne, the rough of calluses along hot skin - it was too much, not enough, exactly right. Kaladin could feel Adolin working him slow, taking his time. Probably worried about spooking him like a storming horse.
Right then, he felt Adolin smile against his mouth. He pulled back just enough to huff breath over Kaladin's skin and say, "I can't believe you didn't know I was flirting with you."
They kissed again, and in the space between, into Adolin's chin, Kaladin said, "I don't even notice when women flirt with me."
"I'm supposed to be good at it, is all." Adolin bit his lip after he said it, as if to prove his point. "It's humbling."
Kaladin smiled. "Humility? From you? Now there's a harrowing thought."
"Don't worry." Adolin kissed back up his jaw and spoke directly into his ear. "You staring at me all night is all my ego needs to thrive for at least a few months."
"Hard to look away from someone peddling their wares quite so aggressively."
"Luckily, I found an interested buyer." Adolin's face reappeared, smiling down on him. "In case you still need it clarified, this is flirting."
Kaladin raised a hand to trace Adolin's collar where it dipped low on his chest. "Feels like more than flirting to me."
"Yes, Kal, finally, you're getting it. Good for you."
Kaladin yanked him back in by his collar. Adolin's hands were suddenly all over him, brushing down his neck, across his chest, clutching at his hips, tugging his shirt out of his belt. The kissing was very nearly not kissing anymore, just gasping into each other's mouths and something unaccountably wonderful Adolin was doing with his tongue. Kaladin let himself get pushed onto the floor, enjoyed the feeling of Adolin crawling over him, pulling at the fastenings on his shirt, breathing muffled words into his neck. He got Kaladin's shirt open and just hung there reverently, then brushed lips lightly from collarbone to stomach, tickling Kaladin's chest hair as he went.
Adolin moved back up to kiss him, and their hips locked together again, this time even better because of the pressure of Adolin's weight pushing down. Everything else paused for a moment as Adolin ground into him and Kaladin gave back as well as he could, hands coming to clutch at his ass. Kaladin bent his free leg at the knee to get better leverage while Adolin bit at his lips until they stung pleasantly.
Adolin pushed up onto his knees, eyes desperate, and went to work on Kaladin's pants. Somehow Kaladin felt even better now, the overpowering want having spread through his limbs, diffuse but better, more balanced. It was nothing like the nerves he expected to feel, and nothing like the guilt. He brought hands up to cover his face, overwhelmed, embarrassed, happy to the point of pain, needing something desperately, but still not sure what.
Adolin must have looked up and misinterpreted, because he said, voice quiet, "Kal? Is this alright?"
He peeked through his fingers at Adolin, frame outlined in gentle light, hands paused at his open pants.
Kaladin was surprised to realize he still knew how to talk.
"Yeah, of course." They panted there for a moment. Adolin pushed back to sit just past Kaladin's feet and huffed. Kaladin propped himself up on an arm and ventured, "Are you alright?"
Adolin grimaced against some feeling, then sighed. "Virgins make me so storming nervous. You should have seen me on my wedding night."
"I won't break."
Adolin's mouth pulled up at one side. "That's what Shallan said too." His eyes took on a far off look. "I know it's a bit silly to worry about. It's just... I had - I had a bad time my first time. I, uh.. Yeah, I had a bad time."
Kaladin was still panting, his dick was still throbbing, and he wondered how that could be true and how at the same time he could want nothing more than to find that person and lash them into the sky.
"Don't tell me who it was."
Adolin seemed to understand his expression. He smiled, small, and shook his head. Kaladin leaned forward and grabbed at his ankle, looking for connection.
"I don't think it could be bad, like this."
"On a hallway floor?"
"No, that could be improved. You'll definitely be sore tomorrow." Kaladin sucked in a little stormlight and blew it out in a thin plume through his lips to emphasize his point, in the hope of making Adolin laugh. It worked. "I meant with you. It can't be bad with you." Adolin still looked preoccupied, so Kaladin added, "Who says I'm a virgin, anyway?"
Adolin took the bait. "As if, bridgeboy, who'd you fuck? The sweet meat of your palm?"
"A man has to keep his secrets."
"Tell me who, tell me." Adolin was leaning back towards him now, eager.
Kaladin let his face drop to grave seriousness and took a steadying breath.
"There was this spren."
For half a moment, Adolin bought it. And then he was tackling Kaladin, hands to shoulders, and they started to grapple. Kaladin struggled half-heartedly, laughing. They rolled each other a few times; eventually, Adolin used his bodyweight to hold Kaladin down by his wrists and kissed him thoroughly before rolling off to lay next to him on the floor, still laughing.
"You are an idiot," Adolin said firmly, eyes flashing. "I've decided what to do. I just won't deflower you today."
Kaladin felt a big, goofy smile spread on his face.
"For what it's worth, I'm not sure I ever had much flower to me to begin with."
"See, I disagree with you there." Adolin scooted closer, kissed Kaladin's shoulder, and rolled onto his side, head propped up on his hand, and grabbed at Kaladin's wrist to bring his hand up to lay across Adolin's jaw. His thumb fell naturally on Adolin's bottom lip, and Kaladin rubbed it back and forth, trying to prepare for what Adolin was about to do, for what he was scheming. It was no use, of course.
Adolin's mouth opened obligingly, and Kal pressed his thumb deeper, feeling the start of soft, wet flesh and surprisingly sharp bottom teeth. Adolin's tongue met him there, passing slowly back and forth over the pad of his thumb. He pulled Kaladin's thumb in further with slow suction. Kaladin was glad Adolin's eyes slipped closed at the same time, because he felt less embarrassed watching as he was, as if the world might end if he looked away. Adolin gripped Kaladin's wrist and drew it back so that his thumb left Adolin's mouth with a soft pop. Kaladin couldn't stop the regretful sound that emanated from him. It made Adolin's eyes crack open and smile widen.
"You'll tell me if something bothers you?"
His eyes were clear, almost innocent in their excitement. Kaladin's brain felt like it had liquefied. Somewhere not too far under the surface he wanted to remind Adolin that he was the one who spooked last, that he was the temperamental horse now, but he couldn't get past the visual just conjured, and he had been so hard for so long now that he honestly was starting to feel dizzy.
"Uh..."
"Yes?"
He let his mouth drop open again, tongue resting on his bottom lip, and guided Kaladin's pointer finger in.
"Yes," Kaladin breathed. "Yes."
Adolin kept hold of his wrist, guiding him deeper, eyes lazy with lust, corners of his mouth still pulled up. This one felt even better, slick and warm and wet, and Adolin started to make noises around him that would have seemed excessive at any other time. Kaladin knew this was meant as a tease, a preview, but he was starting to feel like this might be all they got to. His cheeks colored at the thought, but he didn't pull his hand back, and he didn't stop himself from reaching down to palm at himself over his pants with his free hand.
When it was getting sloppy, Adolin sucked the middle finger in as well, mouth adjusting to accept both, humming around them. It was right then, as Adolin's tongue pushed between his two fingers, as he felt the velvet softness, as slack pleasure settled on Adolin's beautiful face, that Kaladin suddenly and very keenly needed more.
"Ado-" he cut himself off with a loud groan and a firm thrust into his own palm. "Adolin."
Adolin seemed to understand. He rolled onto his knees, hands clumsy as they knocked Kaladin's out of the way. That clumsiness, that small indication that Adolin didn't have it all together either, somehow made Kaladin even more frantic. He couldn't help the sounds he was making, low and hurt, like he had a wound in his gut, like he was bleeding out. That too-sweet too-bitter not-panic filtered up again, overwhelming. Adolin fit their hips together again, too perfect, too right, and thrust down into him.
"Kal, storms, Kal please." His voice was rough and quiet at his ear, and with his last shred of rational thought, Kaladin wondered what Adolin could possibly be begging for when all he was doing, all he had done this whole night, all he'd ever done for Kaladin, was give and give and give, and ask for nothing back. Kaladin buried a hand in Adolin's hair and felt himself teeter on the edge. "Kal, please."
Kaladin's hand fisted in Adolin's hair, hard, and he came, unable to worry about finishing quickly or the noise he made, unable to do anything but feel. Adolin continued to grind into him, mumbling praise straight into his ear, and then stilled with a blissful groan. Kaladin went slack at that, body tensing against another wave, almost as powerful as the first. He realized eventually that he was repeatedly gasping Adolin's name. Adolin collapsed against him and flung an arm around his neck.
Their breathing calmed, then synced. Thought returned, slowly. Naturally, Adolin spoke first.
"I'm so happy."
Kaladin cracked his eyes and looked over at him. He was looking at the ceiling with a self-satisfied grin, face and chin still messy with spit. Kaladin shuddered, then reached over to wipe it off. Adolin met his eyes and laid still, docile, as Kaladin cleaned him.
If he'd been a better man, maybe he'd have managed to say something. Something about the way Adolin held a sword and laughed often and did what was right. The last half hour was landing on him, soft and hard all at once. This was it, his best chance at being known. This was him, his friend and equal; his best friend and his better. Somehow, he'd taken the next step, and now there was terrifying, exhilarating unknown ahead. The last waypoint was behind them.
Kaladin drew back and looked down at his face - peaceful, loose, handsome, tired. He steeled himself.
Feel it. Own it.
"I'm happy, too."