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Barok reaches up and places a hand against Kazuma’s cheek prompting Kazuma to bend down to kiss him. They are lying together on the bed, Barok on his back, with Kazuma propped up on elbows beside him.
“Beautiful.”
Kazuma whispers it reverently.
“Kazuma….”
“It’s true.”
“It’s not.”
Barok laughs at Kazuma’s frown.
“You may be the third man to ever call me beautiful, and of the other two one of them decided that the solution to the corruption among the aristocracy was to start murdering them himself, and the other urged him on.”
Kazuma lays his head down on Barok’s chest.
“I would kill for you. I would paint London’s streets red with blood, hang entrails from every streetlight –“
“This is you being romantic, isn’t it?”
“I mean it.”
Barok runs his fingers through Kazuma’s hair.
“I would create a throne of bones for you to sit upon.”
“And what about what I want?”
“What do you want? I would do anything.”
“What I’d like would be for men to stop professing how they’d kill for me.”
“If my rivals weren’t dead I would kill them.”
“Really? I’m fairly certain that you and my brother would get along rather well.”