The king felt his smile shatter. He shifted, lifting a hand to cradle the angel's face gently. Solon forced Arin to look at him, using his other hand to tug away the other man's hands. "I think we should take things slow. It's going to be torture, but that might be best. I want you to enjoy yourself." He let his hand flow down, brushing his fingers against the other man's neck.

Even lower, he let his hand trail until he could slip it under cloth to meet skin. There he let it rest, all the while keeping his eyes on the angel before him. "You've been treated badly before, and you're afraid now. The last thing I want to do is go too fast." Pleadingly, he gazed at Arin with his mismatched eyes.

Arin sniffed, trying to look away from the King. He was just so confused. These feelings were circling inside of him, one moment he was longing to kiss Solon and the next, he was dreading what might happen if he did. The King was right, as always. He had been hurt multiple times before. Maybe that's why he felt so conflicted? He smiled weakly and leant against the warm hand that touched his skin.

"If I had my wings... They'd be black," he muttered in his language, knowing that Solon wouldn't understand him. He sighed sadly, remembering his soft, white wings. They were so warm when he wrapped himself in them and so strong... He missed them everyday.

The king leaned forward to let his lips push gently against the angel's. He pulled back with a soft smile. "What are you so sad about? I didn't say no." In fact, Solon had said quite the opposite. The charm around Arin was irresistible to the king. So sweet and enchanting was the little songbird, he didn't think he could ever refuse him anything.

It made him wonder. What was kingship to him? He could abdicate the crown, and leave everything behind. No, he couldn't leave his children behind, and the consequences to their mother... to them ... He sighed as he thought of such things. He would have to talk to them all and see, but then Opal would ask why such a sudden thing filled his mind.

He was certain he could convince her, with a divorce. So long as she allowed him to be a father to their children, he cared not whether they were married or not. Then he would truly be free to be with Arin

"I just... Miss a lot of things," he muttered, letting himself be cuddled into the King's strong arms. He couldn't find words to explain how he really felt. "I feel stupid."

If only he had listened to his father and not fallen for the charms of Jonathan. He was foolish to think that the human really loved him in the same way. He was lured from his homeland and asked to mutilate himself, which he did without question. Then Jonathan had gone. He was stranded in a world he didn't understand and soon fell into the hands of slavers.

But now he was safe, and somewhat happy. As long as Solon was his Master, he knew nothing bad would happen to him. But he still felt stranded and sad. He sniffed again and closed his eyes. It was getting late...

He found himself sighing, curling his arms tighter around the other man. The king bent his head, let his teeth nip the skin of Arin's neck. "It's normal to miss things, especially when you know it's impossible to go back." His own past had reared its head. Solon slipped a hand up beneath the cloth covering the angel's back. He felt the ridges of scars, dug his nails into them and pulled Arin even closer to him then before.

Solon knew he was pushing it, especially after his earlier words promising to take things slow. He lifted his head, lips parted slightly, to peer at Arin questioningly. They could both forget ....

Something deep inside of Arin snapped. A small part of him he hid from others, from the shame that it would give him. He moaned lightly, shaking not from fright, but from pleasure. His eyes snapped open and he hugged Solon tightly, moving his body as close to the man as possible.

The pain... It was what made him like this. A secret he had tried to hide all his life. Now it was out, turning him into a moaning, lustful creature. He brought his lips to the King's kissing the man hard, biting and drawing blood. "S-Solon... I..." he wanted to apologise for his sudden change in behaviour, but the feeling was getting worse.

Surprise slammed through him, along with a good dollop of need."Sh, Arin ... Just tell me what you like." The king shifted slightly as he thought of how to make things so much more pleasant for the both of them. With a quick flick of his wrists he slipped off Arin's tunic, and then made quick work of his own. He licked his lips, gazing at the other man with hunger. The king didn't bother to hide it. Instead, he reveled in the wanting and let his nails drag harshly over Arin's skin to show it.

Even so, Solon was careful. He didn't want to actually harm the other man, but to leave his mark and a pleasantly stinging sensation behind? That was another matter. He wanted to please Arin. It was quite the role reversal really.

Arin moaned more, his body moving to Solon's rough touch. No... He couldn't do this... He couldn't show the King this side of him... But yet, he was spiralling out of control. The light stinging pain that ran down his back made him shudder and cry in ectasy. Yes... He was losing control.

He remembered a faint memory, one that hurt him to think about. Jonathan had discovered this side of him as well, and seemed pleasantly surprised. Apparently it wasn't too uncommon for his kind to be into pain, it had something to do with their DNA... Psychology or something... He couldn't quite remember the conversation.

"Have me... Take me... Now," Arin whispered into Solon's ear, biting it like a crazed animal.

Solon let out a moan of his own. His breath came in gasps as he shifted his body and Arin's so they both lay upon the sofa. Once he was certain that they'd both found their pleasure, the king collapsed. The warmth of having the other man so close after what they had shared .It was magical.

The king curled around Arin protectively, head leaning against the other man's shoulder. "I'll find a way to keep you close ... If you want." The thought of Arin not wanting such a thing made Solon wince inwardly.

Arin closed his eyes, cuddling into the sweaty warmth of Solon. What had he done? Why had he snapped? The pain... Why did it change him so...? Jonathan had told him a long time ago that angels enjoyed pain more than demons did, but he never understood how and why this happened. He felt dirty, but also pleased to have made Solon happy.

He remained quiet, hiding in the King's chest as he tried to forget his sins, what he had just done with a married man. A human... Perhaps he had become a whore, just as his father warned.

Solon was worried. The other man hadn't spoken a word, simply cuddled up against him, hiding away. "Arin?" The king's emotions filled his voice. With the angel he couldn't hide what he felt, just couldn't. It wasn't a matter of wanting to.. It was more not being able to. Odd eyes wide, he tilted his head to kiss the other man's shoulder lightly.

"Is there ... something wrong?"

Arin smiled weakly, shaking his head. He didn't want to worry the King about his moody behaviour. He slowly sat up, trying to ignore his aching body and the various bite marks and scratches Solon had left all over his delicate pink skin. He knew that he bruised easily, so he found his top to cover his body as soon as possible. It was starting to get dark and Arin felt his stomach rumble.

He got up, pulling on his pants. "I'll make us dinner," he said, not really looking at his Master.

He made his way to the small kitchen and searched the cupboards, finding something good to make for the King. He settled for a salad, made from the vegetables found outside in the gardens. He used herbs and water to make a nice dressing, and then boiled up some potatoes to make into a soup. He hoped the King wouldn't mind a meatless dinner.

Solon found himself sighing. He too stood and clothed himself, all the while wondering what had gone wrong. Insisting as he had, it hadn't been a good idea. Now the delicate relationship between the king and the slave had frayed somehow. Repairing it seemed impossible, and yet Solon had to try.

With a last tug at his clothing, he moved into the kitchen. The soup's delicious scent, of fresh spices and crisp greens, wafted forth. Was there anything Arin couldn't do? "The soup smells wonderful." Words were supposed to be his strong point, as a king he had a duty to know how to address others and make them comfortable, but that ability now failed him.

Arin smiled at Solon, hoping he hadn't offended the man. The act of a few hours before was still lingering on his skin and inside of him. He had no idea if he really enjoyed it or if he felt ashamed for acting the way he had. He didn't want to offend the King, though. He dished up the food, placing it on the table for Solon to eat.

He sat next to the King with his own plate of food, eating the soup quietly. He wasn't that much of a good cook, only knowing how to make simple dishes. It wasn't anything like the food that the cooks made in the Palace, but it reminded him of home. His mother loved to make soups and different dishes out of the vegetables and fruits she had grown herself in the gardens. They rarely ate meat, as killing any living creature was against their nature.

Solon took a quick spoonful of the soup, and found himself savoring its earthy taste. It was fresh, different from the thing he had become used to. "Where did you learn how to cook? This is delicious." It sounded so cold to be speaking in such a way after what they'd shared. He'd pushed the other man too far. Solon was ashamed of himself, but didn't know how he could make it up to Arin. It would feel like paying for a moment he'd wanted to have for naught more then ... love. The thought that it wasn't so sent a shard of sadness through his heart.

Arin was a slave. He had done what was expected, that was all. Solon truly cared for him, knew he was falling in love, maybe had already done so ... And he'd thought Arin had felt the same way. But this, these moments, were beginning to prove otherwise.

"From my..." Arin went to reply, searching for the right word. "Mother...?" He tilted his head and watched Solon eat, happy that the King was satisfied with his simple cooking. "It's not much... I don't know how to make anything else." He toyed with his own soup, watching the ripples swim across the surface. Solon still seemed sad. After what they had shared, had he not been happy? How could Arin make the man truly happy?

The king nodded encouragingly at the word, and found a tiny smile lifting his lips. That was right, Arin was still learning the language of Solon's country. "It's more then I was able to make, when I had just reached the age to go traveling." He'd done that, but in a way he'd never imagined, or wanted. A puppet ... Solon turned his head to the soup and let the spices and herbs within ease him into a place of comfort he rarely ever knew. No matter how Arin felt about him ... In the end Solon could find comfort with the slave.

"I'll try and find a way to get you home," stated the king all of a sudden. His strange eyes blazed with determination. It was the only thing he could think of that would make the other man truly happy.It would be difficult of course, but that was no challenge to someone such as he, who had seen hardship before and conquered it. The chance that his family might fall completely from his reach, it did worry him, but not so much that it would stop his plan to simply run away.

Solon wanted to take Arin back home, but he knew that this was impossible. Not only did you need wings to reach his homeland, but humans were rarely allowed in. Jonathan had been one of these lucky humans. If his parents knew what he had done in order to stay with the man...

Even if they did find a way to go back to his home, his family wouldn't accept him back. Neither would his people. A wingless angel was as good as a human in their eyes. He looked sadly into his soup. "I... Appreciate the offer but..." He swallowed hard, trying to stop himself from crying. How could he tell the King that it was impossible?