Wanderlust (mxm)

Chapter Three

Soren slowly woke up. He knew he'd been at the tavern the night before, his pounding head was evidence enough. Not that it was a surprise. He'd spent almost every night since Toliver's rejection in that tavern, sometimes he never even managed to get back up to his room. With a groan he stretched and sat up, rubbing his hands over his eyes before finally opening them.

He shot to his feet instantly, staring in alarm at the Teltan who was sprawled across the other half of the tiny bed. It was the man he'd spoken to at the bar, he remembered that much. The man was clearly naked under the thin sheet. Soren's eyes skimmed over him, momentarily appreciating the view, before he forced himself to look away.

He saw his clothing in a messy pile on the floor, and as quietly as possible he crouched and started to get dressed. Soren had just finished tying his pants when the Teltan moved. Soren froze as the man's eyes opened.

"Where are you going?"

Soren stared at him with wide eyes. "I thought I'd—I thought—"

The man sat up and leaned back on his hands. The sheet slipped to his hips, leaving his chest bare. He didn't look like the type of Teltan Soren was used to. His hair was long, done up in braids which were then loosely tied together behind his head. His skin was tanned like a Crelan's. His eyes were the usual Teltish blue—the only part of him that looked typical. He raised an eyebrow, obviously noticing the way Soren was staring at him. "You thought what?"

Soren swallowed and forced himself to meet the man's gaze. "Who are you?"

"Oh. Captain Tanden of the WDN Wanderlust." The man leaned forward and held out his hand.

Soren instinctively moved to shake it, but suddenly withdrew when the name clicked in his mind. "Tanden?" he repeated. "Lord Tanden of West Draulin?"

"I prefer Captain, but yes."

Soren groaned. "Great Roe, what have I done..." He sat down on the bed, his back to Lord Tanden, and buried his face in his hands. He tried to calm down, but his heart was racing. He had never imagined talking to one of the Tandrans, let alone waking up beside one. He felt a hand on his shoulder and flinched away from it.

"Sorry. I just wanted to get a better look at your tattoo," the lord said. "I've been thinking of getting one myself."

Soren stayed still as the lord ran his fingers over the tattoo. Maybe the lord just wasn't used to the traditional style of the tattoos continuing over a person's shoulder. There was no other reason to be so fascinated. While the lord was distracted, Soren tried to remember what had happened. Clearly he'd brought the lord up to his room, and even now he couldn't blame his drunken self for that. The lord was every bit as attractive as Toliver, but he'd actually wanted Soren, and that was new. Soren took a deep breath, trying to mentally prepare himself to say something, when the lord spoke again.

"What's your name?"

He exhaled. "Soren, my lord."

"The title's a tad unnecessary, given last night."

Soren turned around. The lord had propped up the pillows and was leaning against them. "I... don't remember," he admitted.

The lord chuckled. "Oh... now that's a shame."

Soren wasn't sure what to make of that. The very idea that this man was in his room was shocking enough, he didn't really want to think about what they'd done. "I'm sorry, my lord, but... could you leave?" Everything was making him uncomfortable.