Chapter Text
Sometimes, in the dark of the night, when the others were asleep and the agony that was life as a bridgeman got to be unbearable, Kaladin and Moash would find solace in one another. Frantic kisses under the light of one of the moons, hurried strokes, muffled moans. Moash biting his fist as Kaladin sucked his cock, Kaladin covering his mouth as they came together like two angry storms.
Kaladin tried not to think about those liaisons now that he was free. He’d catch Moash looking at him across the barracks and quickly find somewhere else to be. He wasn’t ashamed of them, necessarily, but they were a reminder of a time he wanted to forget. Kaladin didn’t want him in that way, not anymore. He’d never had romantic interest in him - he’d just been trying to find a brief moment of something other than pain and death in his existence - and it was clear Moash wanted more.
That was why he was out in the darkness now, wandering towards the small cluster of taverns and shops that had grown up in the Kholin warcamp.
“You need to talk to him, Kaladin,” Sylphrena admonished. She had told him the same thing a dozen times and sounded exasperated. “Just tell him you don’t want it anymore.”
“I can’t,” he told her and she rolled her eyes, alighting in front of his face and making him stop.
“You can, you’re just scared to,” she accused.
“Of course I’m scared! I lose everyone I ever get close to, Syl. I don’t want to lose his friendship.”
“If he’s really your friend he’ll understand,” she whispered. Kaladin sighed.
“You don’t understand humans,” he told the spren, who huffed and crossed her arms. “If he wants me to be something more… he might decide it’s easier not to be around me if I don’t feel the same way. That happens a lot.”
“Why are you standing in the middle of the road talking to yourself, bridgeboy?” A different voice interrupted Syl as she was about to respond and Kaladin whirled around to find Prince Adolin Kholin standing behind him, two guards in Kholin house blue a discrete distance beyond him. “I always knew you were a bit out there but this is too much, even for you.” Kaladin scowled at him and Adolin laughed. “I was headed for a drink - looks like we’re going the same way.” Adolin draped his arm around Kaladin’s shoulders and dragged him along. He looked back at the guards who followed and saw that they were trying not to laugh as he gave them a helpless expression.
He could have slipped out of the prince’s grasp, of course. But some part of him didn’t want to and so he let himself be pulled in Adolin’s wake, off to some winehouse that he would normally never have entered. It was loud inside, and much warmer than out on the plains. Syl stayed outdoors, dancing happily with a gaggle of windspren, and Adolin made his way confidently to a table in the corner with good sightlines of the doors. Kaladin approved, and he said as much as they sat down.
“Even though you and your men follow me around like axehound pups, I am actually quite good at taking care of myself,” Adolin responded.
“You weren’t doing such a good job back there on the plains when we saved your ass,” Kaladin retorted, and then immediately regretted the decision as he watched Adolin’s face fall. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…”
“No, it’s ok,” Adolin cut off his apology. “My father should never have trusted that bastard Sadeas.” He flagged down a serving girl who seemed to recognize him and ordered some wine for the two of them. Kaladin grunted in agreement with the sentiment.
“Thank the almighty we were there,” Kaladin said without thinking, and Adolin looked at him, expression surprised.
“I wouldn’t think someone who has been through what you have would still believe in the Almighty,” Adolin said, and Kaladin shrugged.
“Not sure if I do, but I’m glad we were able to save some of your men, as well as the two of you.”
The serving girl came back with their drinks and Adolin thanked her, tipping her and giving her a smile and a wink. Kaladin rolled his eyes. Adolin had purportedly courted half the war camps, and was constantly flirting with anything that walked on two legs.
“What’s that look for?” Adolin raised an eyebrow and raised his wine cup to his lips.
“What look?” Kaladin took his own glass but didn’t drink.
“You look like you stepped in something unpleasant,” Adolin told him after he’d taken a drink.
“I was just observing your tendency to ogle everything female within your immediate vicinity,” Kaladin did take a drink then, leaning back.
“I have a reputation to maintain, bridgeboy,” Adolin grinned at him and Kaladin sighed.
“Why don’t you just pick one?” Kaladin looked around the room at the women who were present. “It can’t be that hard.”
“We’re talking about love , Stormblessed. It’s not as simple as just picking one.” Something changed in Adolin’s tone and Kaladin was shocked to feel a pang at the word. Love.
That’s what Moash wanted from him. But Kaladin couldn’t give it. He just didn’t know how to tell him. As he’d said to Syl, he was afraid of losing him as a friend. But was what they had now really friendship? Kaladin avoiding him, Moash giving him longing glances…
“Did I lose you there?” Adolin’s voice interrupted his inner thoughts and he blinked hard, trying to reorient himself.
“Sorry. I guess the thought of love isn’t one my mind can handle,” Kaladin murmured. He took a much bigger drink of his wine, trying to hide the flush in his cheeks. Adolin frowned at him.
“I guess your life hasn’t exactly been conducive to finding love, huh? How long were you a slave anyway? You’re obviously a trained soldier…”
Kaladin didn’t answer, not right away. Why should he tell his whole life story to Adolin? But then he thought a little more and realized that, even if he didn’t even really like him, Adolin was nothing if not a genuine person and was probably asking out of true curiosity.
“I had eight masters before I ended up in Sadeas’ camp… but it only lasted a year,” he admitted. “I kept trying to escape.” Adolin looked at him, blue eyes full of empathy. “Before that I was a spearman in Amaram’s army. Led my own company. I don’t know exactly how long it was… four years maybe? I was 15 when I joined.”
Adolin didn’t say anything, and Kaladin was grateful for his silence. He didn’t want to think about it - about Tien, about his spear crew, Amaram’s betrayal, all the other slaves he led to their deaths. He was surprised to find the wine cup in his hand was empty. Adolin flagged the serving girl down again and got them both a refill.
“I served as a spearman for a year,” Adolin told him and Kaladin cocked his head, encouraging him to continue. “Dalinar thought it was important for me to experience the life of an everyday soldier. Renarin didn’t, of course, because of his sickness.”
“I was good at leading a squad,” Kaladin said. “Really good.”
“What happened?” Adolin’s voice was soft and Kaladin shook his head. He wasn’t ready to share that, especially not with Adolin. He might never be. Adolin accepted his refusal without saying anything and they sat in companionable silence, drinking their wine and watching the people around them. He saw Syl come in eventually when the door opened to admit another pair of men, and she came over to him, sitting on the rim of his cup.
“Moash is looking for you,” she told him and he forced himself not to groan audibly. Thankfully no one would ever expect to find him in a wine house, especially not the one Prince Adolin preferred to frequent. He appreciated the warning though.
“You know, you’re surprisingly good company for someone who only speaks in grunts and scowls, bridgeboy.” Adolin observed. “Although I could do with a little more admiration for all of the pretty women around us.”
Kaladin considered the room again. The fact was, Kaladin could appreciate that a woman was in fact pretty, but it never went beyond that. He didn’t desire women in that way, not that he was going to tell that to Adolin. He just shrugged. “None of them are my type,” he replied. It wasn’t a lie. If the princeling asked about the men though… Kaladin considered the males in the room then. What even was his type? Did he have one? He wasn’t sure - he’d had so little time in his life to consider such things.
“Really? Not a single one?” Adolin seemed incredulous and Kaladin just hummed. Syl was still there and she was hovering near Adolin’s face, inspecting it as if there was something on it. Then she grinned.
“Adolin is good looking…” she said in that tinkling tone she always used when she wanted to tease Kaladin. Kaladin flushed immediately - it wasn’t like he hadn’t noticed. Everyone noticed Adolin - his artfully disheveled hair and his brilliant blue eyes, the skin a shade or two paler than most Alethis, the perfect lips… He coughed and made himself stop that line of thought before it got too far along. He took another long drink to stop his coughing.
“What about you, princeling? Do you have any preferences aside from a woman that is currently breathing air?” Kaladin should stop drinking, that was not a question he should be asking, but Adolin just laughed and smacked him on the shoulder in a friendly way.
“Breathing air is a requirement,” Adolin agreed, but then he gave Kaladin a conspiratorial smile and leaned closer to whisper “but being a woman isn’t always.” Kaladin drew in a sharp breath and leaned back, eyes wide. Adolin put a finger to his lips and winked.
“I think you have had too much wine,” Kaladin managed to say, although his throat had gone dry the instant Adolin spoke. Adolin simply shrugged and continued to smile.
Kaladin couldn’t help the images that came to his mind at this revelation and if he didn’t stop them soon he was going to have a real problem sitting in a booth at a winehouse with the Kholin heir. Storms how embarrassing would that be? He had to change the subject but he didn’t know how.
“So if you served as a spearman, do you remember any of your training?” Kaladin managed to think of a topic that would put them on safer ground. Adolin pursed his lips, obviously thinking, and Syl came to settle on Kaladin’s shoulder, a thoughtful expression on her face.
“Maybe? I will admit I didn’t really want to be there and the spear didn’t engage me like the sword does.” He finally responded.
“Want to find out? Bridge Four trains every day, you could come do some spear work with us.” Kaladin didn’t know where the offer came from, but he was curious to see if any of what Adolin had learned had stuck with him.
“Only if you spar me,” Adolin countered and Kaladin narrowed his eyes and then gave a curt nod.
“You have yourself a deal.”
Kaladin left the winehouse some time later, feeling a little lighter than he had when he went in. One of Adolin’s friends had come in and he’d quickly bid farewell to the prince and departed, trusting the soldiers that were unobtrusively guarding him from across the winehouse to do their jobs and ensure he made it back to his rooms safely.
“That seemed to go really well,” Syl observed as they wandered back in the direction of the barracks beneath the pale blue light of the moon.
“I’m not going to make a habit of hanging around with Adolin,” Kaladin told her, hoping to forestall any crazy ideas before the little spren got them in her mind.
“You had fun!” She countered and he shook his head.
“Maybe, but I can’t be friends with Adolin Kholin. I’m in charge of protecting him, and he’s a lighteyes. Not just a lighteyes, but a second dahn lighteyes.”
“If you can’t be friends, why did you go with him to the winehouse?” She flew into his line of sight then, arms crossed and head cocked, her hair floating in some unseen wind.
“I don’t know,” he admitted.
“Well, I know you enjoyed yourself. And I think this whole lighteyes - darkeyes thing is nonsense. You should be his friend! Then you could tell Moash that you don’t want to do those disgusting things with him anymore and you’d have a replacement.”
Kaladin took a deep breath in through his nose and sighed. “That’s not how it works, Syl,” he started but she interrupted him.
“Plus, I like Adolin better. Moash seems… off. I get a bad feeling from him.” She came to rest on his shoulder now and he just grunted in acknowledgement. He knew how she felt about Moash, she’d told him many times. But he didn’t want to argue the merits of friendship with a spren who barely understood the workings of human relationship.
He entered the barracks and found a few men still awake - those who had recently gotten off of late guard shifts - but most were asleep. Moash, unfortunately, was not. He noticed Kaladin immediately and made his way over to him.
“Kal,” he greeted, and Kaladin inclined his head in greeting. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Can we talk?”
“Can it wait?” Kaladin replied. He didn’t even have to fake the yawn that crept up on him. He was tired and not in the mood for this conversation.
“Why are you avoiding me?” Moash hissed, grabbing Kaladin’s wrist as he tried to walk past him. Kaladin shook him off and scowled, tugging his arm out of the other man’s grasp and making his way to his quarters. Moash followed him and stopped him from closing the door with his hand. “Kaladin.”
Kaladin whirled around then as Moash stepped into his room and blocked the doorway. “What do you want, Moash?”
“I want to know what’s going on,” Moash snapped. “Ever since we got away from the bridge crews you’ve been doing your best not to even look at me.” The sharp-featured man stepped forward, putting himself within a hand's breadth of Kaladin. “You used to want me.” When he said that, Moash moved closer, backing Kaladin against the wall. Kaladin’s nostrils flared but he didn’t react.
“I don’t want you. I can’t give you what you want.” Kaladin said.
“You seemed awfully wanting back in Sadeas’ camp,” Moash whispered, leaning forward as if to kiss Kaladin. Kaladin slipped to the side and the other man tried to grab his wrist again and failed. “Kal…”
“Moash, back there I turned to you for comfort. But I didn’t want anything more, I still don’t. And I don’t need that comfort now, not here, not when all that darkness is behind us. It didn’t mean anything to me beyond that.”
He saw something cross his friend’s face, something hurt and angry and dark, and then Moash came at him, pushing him back against the wall again and forcing his mouth against Kaladin’s. Kaladin shoved, sucking in Stormlight as he did so, and Moash crashed backward against his dresser, breaking it and dropping to the floor.
“What in damnation are you doing?” Kaladin shouted and the other men in the room outside came to the door now, anxious and prepared for some sort of attack. Instead they found their captain standing over one of his men, who was slumped on the floor in front of a now-broken dresser, screaming at him. “I told you I don’t want it . Enough, Moash! It’s over.” Moash’s eyes were wide with fear and anger, and Kaladin almost regretted his actions. Almost. Except Moash had tried to force himself on him. “Get out,” he snarled. “Or I’ll throw you out myself.”
Moash frantically got to his feet and hurried out of the room, the men standing by the door parting to let him through.
“Everything ok, son?” Teft asked after Moash was gone.
“Yeah,” Kaladin answered. Teft looked like he didn’t quite believe him but didn’t say anything else, and the men left, shutting his door behind them. As soon as they were gone, Kaladin dropped onto his bed, entire body shaking.
One of his worst fears while he had been a slave had been being forced into sexual situations without his consent. A slave had no recourse if they were raped - they were property and therefore they could be used however their owner wanted. He had seen the looks some of the owners’ wives and daughters and even some of them had given him. Somehow he’d managed to escape untouched.
Only to be pressed by someone he considered a friend here, in his own room, in a place he was supposed to feel safe. He curled in on himself on top of his covers, breathing raggedly as he tried to bring himself under control.
“Kaladin, you’re ok,” Syl said soothingly, landing on the bed and coming to touch his cheek. “You can protect yourself, you don’t have to be scared…”
He knew these things, logically, but his body was reacting on instinct learned during the years since his life stopped being his own. He needed time to bring himself back under control. He closed his eyes and let his mind drift. Unbidden, the sight of Adolin’s grinning face, the way he had looked when he confessed he was attracted to both women and men, the gleam in his eye formed behind his eyelids. He found it helped settle the pinging nerves, the anxious tightness in his chest. Despite the fact that he knew he shouldn’t, he let thoughts of the princeling overcome the creeping dark Moash had brought upon him, and settled enough to sleep.
The following day, Kaladin and Bridge Four stood on the training sands. Along with one extra addition - Prince Adolin Kholin. Zahel, Adolin’s swordmaster, stood off to the side with his arms crossed, looking amused as Adolin stood in formation with the rest of Kaladin’s men, spear at the ready. He hadn’t expected Adolin to actually follow through with what they’d discussed last night but he couldn’t say he was displeased that he actually was,
“We have a guest today, men,” Kaladin shouted. “Please make our princeling feel welcome - don’t treat him any differently than you would one another.”
“You said we were going to spar!” Adolin objected, and Kaladin turned his stern captain’s gaze on him.
“We agreed to spar, but I never said when ,” he pointed out and Adolin opened his mouth to object but thought better of it when Kaladin raised an eyebrow. “Good. Ok Bridge Four - let’s get started.”
He took them through the beginning spear kata, and then broke them into groups by skill as he normally did. “Teft,” he said, calling the older man over to him after he’d broken up the group. “I’d like you to take the Prince here through a refresher for the basics of spear handling. He will work his way up, spar with the men. When you decide he’s ready, he can spar with me.”
“What? That’s not at all what I intended,” Adolin grumped. Kaladin shrugged.
“Next time be more specific when you make deals with me,” he replied. He gave Teft a pat on the shoulder, gave Adolin a teasing grin, and walked away.
Life fell into a comfortable rhythm then. Kaladin found himself going out once or twice a week to drink with Adolin and not ogle women. The prince trained with Bridge Four whenever he could convince Zahel to let him and it seemed Zahel was entertained by watching Adolin get his ass kicked whenever he sparred with the spear. Things with Moash seemed no better, but also no worse, so Kaladin considered that acceptable.
It was one night after a trip to the winehouse that things changed. They’d left together side-by-side, shoulders touching as they walked. Adolin was laughing and he pressed his lips close to Kaladin’s ear and whispered “I have a secret”, something he’d been doing a lot lately. Usually the secret in question was something silly, like how he sometimes thought his father’s very broken nose looked like a set of stairs, or something a little more personal, like the extent to which he missed his mother. Tonight, it was entirely different.
“I want to kiss you,” his lips just brushed the edge of Kaladin’s ear, and he wasn’t sure if it was the words, the touch, or the wind that made him shiver, but he did.
“Princeling, you have had far too much wine,” Kaladin told him, trying to ignore the warm curl of want that moved through him at those words.
“Says who?” Adolin asked.
“Me,” Kaladin replied, and Adolin threw an arm around his shoulders and tugged him close to his side to whisper to him again.
“Doesn’t mean I don’t want to kiss you,” his voice was low and teasing in a way that made that curl of warmth blossom throughout Kaladin’s abdomen.
“Adolin.” He tried to infuse his tone with a warning. Adolin Kholin couldn’t just go around telling people that he wanted to kiss them, especially not people like Kaladin - a dark-eyed guardsman and shash-branded former slave.
“C’mon Kal - tell Skar and Drehy to go back to the barracks and then I can kiss you,” Adolin whined and Kaladin was extremely glad it was dark out because he knew he was blushing intensely. Adolin never called him Kal and the sound of it made his chest feel strange.
“Adolin,” he said again, and he stopped the prince, turning him to look into his face. Skar and Drehy halted immediately to maintain their distance, but Kaladin still spoke quietly. “You can’t just say things like that.”
“Don’t you want me to kiss you?” Adolin countered and Kaladin felt like he might die of embarrassment.
“That doesn’t matter!”
“Hey!” Adolin turned to Skar and Drehy then. “You guys can take off. Captain Kaladin is going to see me home safely. Aren’t you, Captain?”
“No.” Kaladin looked at his men, who seemed uncertain what to do.
“ Yes . I’m one of the few lighteyes Bridge Four has to listen to. Have a good night!” Adolin waved at the two hesitating men and Kaladin sighed and signaled them to bring him a spear. Then they departed and Adolin grinned. “You’re gonna kiss me goodnight.”
“Don’t count on it,” Kaladin told him as they walked.
Kaladin had certainly thought about kissing Adolin, in those dark, private moments when he let his mind wander. He found that when the darkness threatened to overwhelm him, thinking about the prince’s soft smiles and friendly jokes helped keep it at bay. But he didn’t actually want to do it - right? It would be a bad idea. Such a bad idea.
When they arrived at Adolin’s rooms, he stopped outside the door and turned to Kaladin. “I’m serious, you know.”
“What, are you going to order me to give you a goodnight kiss?” Kaladin raised an eyebrow at him and Adolin shrugged.
“If I have to,” he replied, opening the door as he did so. He motioned with his hand, indicating Kaladin should go inside, and Kaladin rolled his eyes but obliged. Adolin followed him in and shut the door behind him. Kaladin stood uncomfortably, looking about the room, trying to ignore Adolin as he unbuttoned his uniform jacket and slipped it off to drape on a chair. Then, the Kholin prince walked toward him, unbuttoning first one, and then the second of the buttons on his white shirt. “So, bridgeboy, are you going to give me that kiss now? I know you want to.”
Kaladin shifted, trying to look anywhere but at Adolin’s lips. But then he noticed the smattering of blonde and black hairs he could see peeking out from just below the second undone button and jerked his gaze back up. Past his lips, to his eyes, which were less clouded with drink than they had been and very dark with desire.
Kelek’s breath, Adolin’s expression was too much.
“I can’t,” Kaladin finally breathed. He swallowed but maintained eye contact. Adolin stepped forward, but unlike Moash all those weeks ago, he didn’t box Kaladin in, didn’t try to touch him.
“Why?” Adolin challenged.
“Because I won’t want to stop.” Kaladin felt the flush from earlier redoubling but he kept his composure. Adolin tipped his head to the side, considering.
“Won’t want to stop kissing me? Or won’t want to stop at kissing me?”
“Both,” Kaladin whispered and he saw the other man’s breath hitch at the response.
“So don’t,” Adolin challenged, and his fingers went again to the buttons of his shirt. He opened another button and then another, gaze never leaving Kaladin as he did so. Kaladin’s heart was racing, his palms sweaty and chest tight. He had never wanted someone the way he wanted Adolin - he’d been a soldier and a slave, without time or desire for emotional attachment. But Adolin was different. He didn’t even like Adolin when they first met, no matter how attractive he was. They’d developed a unique sort of friendship over these months of winehouse visits and sparring sessions and Kaladin found he didn’t just want Adolin’s body - he wanted everything .
“Adolin,” he finally whispered as the last button on the white shirt fell open. “I can’t… Almighty I want to, but I can’t just have you for one night and pretend nothing happened… I want more - need more…”
“Good,” Adolin’s reply was husky as he let the shirt fall from his torso. Then, he reached for the spear still clutched in Kaladin’s hand, setting it gently beside the door. Kaladin swallowed hard as he turned back to him. “Then we’re on the same page.”
Kaladin’s mind stopped working then and as Adolin stepped forward and gently reached a hand out to touch his face, he didn’t shrink back or fight it. He simply stood, rooted in place, as the prince’s calloused fingers traced their way down his temple to his cheek, and along the line of his jaw. When Adolin used his thumb and forefinger to cup his chin, he shuddered, and when he finally touched his lips to Kaladin’s own, Kal broke. He let himself sink into the kiss, his hands finding their way to Adolin’s back, pulling him closer. Adolin made a pleased noise and tipped his head, deepening the kiss as his hands tangled in Kaladin’s dark hair.
It was everything Kaladin had imagined and more. He let himself be pushed back against the wall and felt Adolin’s hands move to his jacket buttons. He let him undo first the jacket and then the shirt beneath, and then allowed them to be shoved off of his shoulders onto the floor so that their chests were pressed skin-to-skin. Adolin let his right hand move down, fingers skirting along the skin he had just bared, all the way to the waist of Kaladin’s uniform pants.
He pulled back then, eyes searching Kaladin’s for any sign of hesitation or discomfort. Kaladin knew he didn’t want him to stop, knew he should stop him, but he simply gazed unflinchingly into those blue eyes and Adolin’s expression immediately grew hungry. He deftly undid Kaladin’s trousers and his questing hand dipped into them. Kaladin moaned, eyes closing and head tipping back to rest on the wall as Adolin’s hand grasped his hard, aching length.
“I knew you wanted me, bridgeboy,” Adolin whispered. Kaladin wanted to reply, to give him some snarky comeback, but he couldn’t think, not with the other man’s hand stroking his dick. Adolin moved in again, this time nuzzling into Kaladin’s neck, biting and kissing as he worked.
“Adolin,” Kaladin managed to bite out through the all-consuming pleasure. “I don’t want to come in my pants like some teenager.”
“Mmm… good thinking,” Adolin replied. He moved his hand, added his second one and shoved Kaladin’s pants down to his ankles in one smooth motion, dropping to his knees as he did so. Kaladin gasped as Adolin took him in his mouth, one hand falling to his head, the other splayed out on the wall as if to steady himself. He wanted to object, to tell Adolin that he shouldn’t be on his knees for anyone, but stormfather it felt so good and Adolin seemed to be enjoying himself, if the noises he was making were anything to go by.
Kaladin tangled his hand in Adolin’s hair, and accidentally thrust forward, gagging the other man on his cock. To his surprise, Adolin took it and then continued to take him as deeply into his mouth and throat as he could. Oh, heralds. This is how Kaladin was going to die. He felt like he was floating above his body, watching Adolin storming Kholin suck his dick with something that looked like glee.
That familiar feeling was building in the pit of his stomach. “I’m close,” he managed to moan, giving Adolin the chance to pull off before Kaladin’s orgasm hit. Instead, he gripped Kaladin’s waist and took him more deeply than ever before, and Kaladin’s release spilled itself down his throat.
Kaladin slumped against the wall, panting and sweat-covered. He felt Adolin stand and then his grinning face was in front of his own, lips swollen and red, hair even more messy than usual. He was beautiful.
“Well, that was a little more than a goodnight kiss…” Adolin whispered, and Kaladin simply blinked at him. He felt boneless, and wasn’t sure he could move. “But I think you enjoyed yourself.”
“I think you were having a little bit of fun yourself,” he finally managed to say and Adolin laughed.
“We can have more fun if you want to,” Adolin teased and Kaladin did not whimper at that. He knew exactly what the other man meant, looking at the very pronounced bulge in the front of his pants. Adolin saw the direction his gaze had drifted and a wicked smile tugged at his lips as he reached down to palm himself through the fabric. Kaladin couldn’t help but wonder what Adolin’s erection looked like. “Do you want to touch me, Kaladin Stormblessed?”
Yes. Kaladin ached to touch him. He licked his lips and Adolin undid his own pants now, shoving them off with ease and Kaladin’s mouth went dry.
“What are we doing, Adolin?” He croaked, voice cracking on the words as he began to recover his wits following his orgasm.
“Whatever we want,” Adolin whispered as he stepped back towards Kaladin. “Tell me what you want.”
You. All of you. Every piece of your flesh and your heart and your soul. Everything.
“You.” That was all Kaladin could manage and Adolin gripped his wrist - not in the same way Moash had all those weeks ago, but gently. Inviting. Steering Kaladin towards his massive, pillow-heaped bed. Adolin gently helped him into it, stretching himself out overtop of him, their bodies touching along their lengths and Kaladin felt like he couldn’t breath. What was he doing? How did he end up here?
And then Adolin was kissing him again, the taste of his own release on the other man’s tongue, and his brain stopped working once again. He felt Adolin’s want heavy against his thigh and he let his hands rove down to Adolin’s ass, gripping it and pressing them together more firmly, drawing a moan from the prince at the pressure.
He took control then, using his grip and his body to roll them so that they were on their sides. His hand reluctantly left the tight, firm buttock and he took Adolin’s hardness in his hand, enjoying the way his breath caught and his eyes fluttered at the sudden pleasure. Kaladin experimented with a few different grips, pressures, and rhythms until he found one that seemed to draw the most noises from Adolin’s throat and he leaned in to bite and kiss the other man’s collarbone as he worked him towards his own climax.
“Almighty, Kaladin, feels so good,” Adolin whimpered, and Kaladin redoubled his efforts to make him feel as good as possible. His mouth trailed downwards now, and he took one of Adolin’s nipples into his mouth, sucking at it and making him beg for more. He was close, Kaladin could tell.
“Come for me, princeling,” he whispered, voice commanding like that first day on the battlefield when he’d ordered Adolin and his men to retreat. Adolin shuddered and his orgasm hit him hard, the white spurts of his release covering the bed between them and Kaladin’s own abdomen. Kaladin worked him through it, reveling in the way Adolin’s body responded to him.
Finally, Adolin opened his eyes, and his gaze met Kaladin’s. “Damnation,” he choked out, and it was Kaladin’s turn to laugh. Adolin’s expression softened and he reached a hand out to tuck Kaladin’s hair back away from his face. “You know, I really enjoy hearing you truly laugh.” He said, and Kaladin flushed, uncomfortable with the compliment, uncertain what to do with the affection Adolin was showing.
“I should probably clean up,” he said, motioning at himself, and Adolin looked down for the first time.
“Oh, yeah. You probably should.”
Kaladin extracted himself from the bed and went to the attached bathroom, wetting a cloth from a pitcher and wiping himself down. He heard Adolin behind him, and then felt arms wrapping about his waist, pulling him back against a chest. Adolin’s chest. They were still completely naked and Adolin was holding him from behind, planting kisses in the crook of his neck. He finished with the cloth and turned in Adolin’s embrace.
“What are we doing, Adolin?” He asked again.
“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’d like to do what we just did again… and then some,” Adolin bit his lower lip. Kaladin looked at him, and felt his chest tighten.
“I don’t know if I can,” he admitted. “Not if it’s just physical. And it can’t really be more than that.”
“Why not?”
“Adolin, our social standings couldn’t be more different. It’s hard enough to justify our friendship, let alone more than that.” He looked into those intense blue eyes and desperately wished it could be different.
“Well, too bad,” Adolin touched his chest and leaned in to press a kiss to his lips. “Because I don’t care about any of that. I just want you, in every way that I can have you.”
“This has become the most complicated goodnight kiss in the history of Roshar,” Kaladin told him and Adolin chuckled.
“It went exactly like I’d hoped,” he confessed, and they kissed again, more passionately.
Kaladin made his way back to the barracks that night feeling like the world had shifted. He wondered if anyone else would notice. Suddenly, Sylphrena appeared and he realized he hadn’t seen her all night.
“Syl, where have you been?” He asked as the spren hovered beside him, floating along as he walked.
“Oh, all around,” she answered. “Tried to follow a cremling into its burrow but I got lost in the tunnels. Watched Bridge Four have stew and tied Moash’s boots together so he’d fall over when he tried to get up. Then I went looking for you but you were… distracted.” She whirled around and grinned at him. “You like Adolin a lot, don’t you?”
“Yes,” he replied honestly. “But it’s a secret, ok? No one can know.”
Syl nodded and then came to land on his shoulder as he walked into the barracks and went to his room. He ignored the curious looks of Skar and Drehy, who were playing cards, and shut the door behind him, falling onto his cot and burying his face in his pillow.
“Hey Kal,” Kaladin was startled by Moash’s voice beside him. The two of them hadn’t spoken much since their confrontation in the barracks. Kaladin turned to him. They were taking a break from training and Moash looked like he had been working hard - face flushed, sweat sheening on his face.
“Moash,” Kaladin replied, hesitant.
“Look, I just wanted to apologize. I shouldn’t have pressed you when you told me you didn’t want me. I just… I guess I felt more than you did and it hurt to realize.”
“I’m sorry, too,” Kaladin responded after a moment. “I should have told you instead of avoiding you. I just didn’t want to hurt you, and I did anyway.”
Syl was looking at Moash with her arms crossed and her eyes narrowed, invisible by his face. “I don’t trust him,” she whispered. Kaladin couldn’t answer but he knew she suspected he was up to something. Kaladin honestly couldn’t blame her, but he also desperately wanted his friend back.
“Let’s put it behind us,” Moash invited. Kaladin smiled.
“Sure,” he answered, and they clasped hands briefly. Then Kaladin straightened up and called for the men to get back into place.
Adolin was drilling with them today and Kaladin paired him up with Skar to spar. He clapped Adolin on the shoulder as he and Moash passed by. “Good luck,” he said, grinning at the prince.
“Just wait.” Adolin grinned back at him. “I’m coming for your ass, Captain.”
Kaladin knew it for the innuendo it was and he couldn’t stop the color that tinged his ears. He coughed and looked at Skar. “Don't go easy on him,” he instructed and Skar smiled and nodded. Kaladin turned and he and Moash walked across the sands.
“Why does he keep insisting on training with us?” Moash asked, looking back over his shoulder at Adolin as they moved towards a group of newer men.
“Adolin? Apparently Dalinar made him serve with a spear company for a year when he was younger. He wanted to see if he remembered any of his training,” Kaladin shrugged. “I guess he just enjoys our company now.”
“Maybe,” Moash looked dubious but then he turned his attention to the new recruits that Kaladin was assigning him to take through their paces.
“He doesn’t like Adolin,” Syl said as Kaladin left Moash to his task and began making rounds to evaluate today’s session.
“Moash doesn’t like any lighteyes,” Kaladin told her. It was true enough - Moash had lost his grandparents to the machinations of Roshone and the dungeon in King Elhokar’s palace. His opinion on Dalinar and his sons was tepid at best. “He’s not stupid enough to try anything. At least I hope he wouldn’t be.”
Sylphrena herself had taken a liking to Adolin. She told him it was because Adolin made him feel lighter in her mind. Kaladin thought perhaps she was being a little overprotective, but did decide to keep a closer eye on Moash during his guard assignments.
“He watches you when you’re with Adolin,” Syl added. “He’s jealous.”
“He only sees me with Adolin here,” Kaladin argued. “What’s there to be jealous of? I hand him a spear and let my men kick his ass.” Kaladin made sure Moash was never on duty when he was going out with Adolin in the evening, especially now that things had shifted between himself and the prince.
“It’s the looks, Kaladin,” Syl put her hands on her hips as she hovered beside him. “The looks Adolin gives you. The way he banters with you. The way you blush at the things he says.”
Kaladin frowned. Was he really that obvious? He hoped not. “I’ll be more careful,” he told her. She nodded, casting another suspicious glance at Moash. “Hopefully with the apology today, things will be better.”
The little spren didn’t look convinced, but Kaladin had to hope she was wrong.
Kaladin let himself be pulled into Adolin’s rooms once again. It was expected now - they would go out to drink and if Kaladin could manage it, they would end up in Adolin’s rooms, exploring one another’s bodies.
Some nights, like tonight, they spent a lot more time simply touching and talking than doing anything more. Adolin was on his back, and Kaladin was lying on his side, head on his right hand, his left roaming along the other man’s skin. Adolin’s face was turned toward him, and he seemed content with the languid brush of fingers along his body.
“My father wants to accept a causal betrothal for me that my cousin has proposed.” Adolin said suddenly. “Apparently she has taken a liking to her new ward and wants to make her a member of the family.”
“And how do you feel about that?” Kaladin asked.
“I don’t know,” Adolin replied. “He’s promised me he won’t ever force me into a marriage. A causal doesn’t have to be anything. But I feel like I can’t just tell him no without a good reason either.”
“Why would you say no?” Kaladin rolled forward onto his chest so he could kiss him.
“Because I don’t want it.” Adolin pulled him closer so he could capture his lips again after he pulled back. “Because I’m happy with what I have right now.”
“What, a secret relationship with a man you’ll never actually be able to be with in public?” Kaladin was slowly moving to drape himself over Adolin, wanting to feel the warmth of his body.
“I would walk hand in hand with you out into the war camp right now,” Adolin countered. Kaladin rolled his eyes and ran a hand through Adolin’s hair.
“What if she’s a good match?” He asked, although his stomach clenched at the thought of anyone else being with Adolin like this.
“What if I already love someone else?” Adolin whispered, and Kaladin’s heart began pounding.
“You shouldn’t,” Kaladin held Adolin’s gaze, face serious.
“Says who?”
“Says society,” Kaladin told him.
“Society doesn’t control my heart,” Adolin’s hand reached up to brush Kaladin’s cheek. “I love you.”
“Adolin…” Kaladin breathed, mouth feeling dry, chest feeling tight.
“It’s ok if you don’t feel the same. Or if you aren’t ready,” Adolin’s other hand wrapped about his waist. “It’s just… remember what I said? Finding someone, it’s about love.” Kaladin didn’t know what to say, or what to do, so he let Adolin take the lead. He allowed his head to be pulled in for a deep and thorough kiss, and returned it with all the words he couldn’t let himself say. He wanted to tell Adolin that he loved him - he knew he did - but what good would it do? They couldn’t be together officially. He shouldn’t even be with him like he was now. They were just setting themselves up for sadness when Adolin was inevitably forced to marry someone considered suitable.
Adolin rolled them, then, putting himself on top and pressing Kaladin down into the mattress. “Stop thinking,” he whispered, moving his hips into Kaladin’s and drawing a moan out of him at the feeling. Kaladin let himself be drawn into the sensation then, the feel of Adolin’s naked skin on his own, the rasp of his late-day stubble as he kissed him, the way they seemed to fit together perfectly.
Adolin’s mouth trailed down Kaladin’s abdomen and to his cock. He kissed the tip but ignored it, making Kaladin squirm, and began to nibble at his inner thighs.
“Can I?” He asked Kaladin, looking at him from between his legs. Kal knew what he was asking. They hadn’t yet had full penetrative sex. It felt like a major step and Kaladin knew if he agreed he would be giving not just all of his body to Adolin, but also the entirety of his heart.
I love you. He heard Adolin’s voice say the words again.
This could be his way of showing Adolin that he felt the same, even if he couldn’t say it yet. He swallowed and nodded. Adolin’s smile was so brilliant that Kaladin thought he would die on the spot and then he shifted, allowing Adolin to position him however he wished.
Kaladin wasn’t used to proper preparation. In the past he’d only experienced rushed encounters in the army and almost frantic coupling with Moash, so the gentleness with which Adolin touched him was almost overwhelming. He knew, deep inside, that this was what it was supposed to be like, but the experience felt almost like he was in a drunk haze, it was so new to him. Adolin started with his tongue, and only added fingers with a generous amount of oil lubricant and a lot of patience.
Adolin treated him like he was something precious, touching his aching cock with the hand that wasn’t otherwise occupied, kissing his thighs and whispering words Kaladin couldn’t quite hear as he did so. Stormfather, Kaladin did love him - hopelessly, perhaps, but he did. “Are you ready?” Adolin finally asked, when Kaladin had started to whimper and beg.
“Yes, please Adolin. Please,” he bit his lower lip and looked down at the man between his thighs, knowing his expression was desperate and hungry. Adolin shifted, leaned up to kiss him, and then adjusted their positions once again so he could enter Kaladin. He lifted Kaladin’s knees, slicking his own very hard cock and guiding it slowly inside.
Kaladin took a deep breath, willing himself to relax as Adolin pressed in. When he was fully inserted, he stopped, blue eyes meeting his, gaze gentle and full of affection.
Full of love .
A few more seconds and then he nodded, giving Adolin permission to move. He gripped Kaladin’s cock as he began to thrust, slowly, eyes never leaving Kaladin’s. Kaladin was overcome with emotion, and a tear slipped down his cheek. Adolin caught it with a brush of the fingers of his free hand.
Adolin was finding his prostate with every thrust now and Kaladin could no longer hold back his litany of moans. “Almighty, Adolin, yes - please, please, please…” Adolin’s hand was still stroking his erection in time with his thrusting hips, and Kaladin’s back arched as his climax built, his head pushing back into the pillows. He could hold back no longer, and his release hit him, clenching around Adolin as he did so, and moaning his name.
“Oh, damnation,” Adolin gasped, and his hips stuttered momentarily as he rode them both through Kaladin’s orgasm. Then, he picked up his pace and chased his own pleasure as Kaladin keened beneath him. Kaladin could feel when he reached it, as his rhythm faltered and then he was gripping Adolin’s hips hard and slamming himself into him as deeply as possible to spill his release inside of Kaladin. Then he was leaning forward and kissing Kaladin as thoroughly as he’d ever been kissed in his life before rolling sideways to land on his back beside him.
They lay side-by-side, panting, and Kaladin reached over and entangled his fingers with Adolin’s, saying nothing with words, but putting everything with that simple touch.
Moash was the last person Adolin needed to spar against before he could finally do so with Kaladin. He’d vastly improved, Kaladin had to admit. He’d never stand a chance against Kal himself, but he might be a fair match for Moash.
The two men stood ready, facing one another on the training ground sands. Bridge Four, Zahel, and Kaladin watched. Adolin almost never made the first move - not in the dueling arena, not here on the training sands. He wasn’t timid but he liked to evaluate his opponent’s approach by giving them the first move. They circled, and Adolin surprised him by lunging toward Moash first. Moash brought his own weapon up to catch Adolin’s thrust, twisting his wrist to bat Adolin’s spear aside. That left his own side open, but Adolin couldn’t spin fast enough to catch him and their spears clashed together again.
They backed away and circled once more. Moash was grinning, but Adolin was as serious as he always was when he was training.
Moash moved first this time. They were using training spears of course, but Moash did something unexpected as he swung his length of wood, bringing it up to break across his own knee. Adolin’s eyes widened as Moash twirled the two halves of wood in his hands, bringing the sharp broken edges up to thrust towards the prince.
“Hold!” Kaladin yelled as Moash stepped towards the other man. “Moash, hold!”
Moash ignored him, continuing to move in Adolin’s direction. Zahel, who had been leaning casually against the stone wall, straightened and came to attention. Adolin held his spear out to keep the other man at a distance.
“What are you doing?” Kaladin heard Adolin ask and Moash laughed. The sound was horrible, like something that would come from an unmade.
“I’m going to make you hurt, princeling,” Moash said and at that, Kaladin moved to intervene. “You think I don’t know? Don’t know that you’re the reason Kaladin rejected me? You get everything your entire life, and now you even have him . Seems a little unfair to me.”
Moash danced forward then, with the grace and balance of an experienced spearman, and the advantage of two weapons to Adolin’s one. Adolin couldn’t drop the spear to summon his blade without giving Moash an opening to drive one of those sharp broken ends into his flesh. Zahel and Kaladin moved simultaneously to intervene, Zahel instinctively going to his prince while Kaladin rushed to forestall Moash.
Moash ducked Kaladin’s sweep and slid forward, and he caught Adolin’s leg with his own as he passed him. Adolin tried to keep his balance but failed, dropping to the sand and losing his grip on his spear, which rolled out of his reach.
Zahel snatched it as he moved, swinging toward Moash, who stabbed forward with one of the spear halves, driving it into the inner part of Adolin’s thigh. Adolin cried out and Kaladin’s heart lurched at the sound. Then Zahel swung the butt of his spear down and caught Moash in the back of his head, knocking him unconscious. Moash dropped to the ground and Kaladin didn’t think twice before throwing himself down at Adolin’s side to inspect the wound.
As he did so, he heard Zahel yelling for the Ardent healers, and Teft moving to tie up Moash’s limp body. He couldn’t think about that right now - right now he had to stop Adolin from bleeding out on the sands. He ripped a piece of his shirt, wrapping it high on Adolin’s leg and tying it as tightly as possible. He didn’t touch the length of spear jutting out - removing it now was too risky.
“Adolin, stay with me,” he whispered, hands working to ensure he staunched as much of the bleeding as he could. Adolin’s head lolled to the side and he looked at Kaladin. “Please, please stay with me. I love you - don’t you dare close your eyes.”
He held Adolin’s gaze until the healers arrived and he was pushed back so they could attend to their prince.