Chapter Text
Six days until Cheka’s coronation…
Leona doesn’t know what’s happening to him. From the second he’d heard about Nadya and Jamil’s break up, he’s been unable to keep his eyes off of Jamil for more than a few minutes.
A part of him thinks that maybe, just maybe, he’s always had feelings for Jamil, that maybe he was simply repressing it until Jamil was single, and now that he is… All of those feelings are unavoidably bubbling up.
The rest of him thinks that’s f*cking stupid, because he’s never even liked Jamil, not really. He’s just interesting company… That also happens to be Leona’s type.
Really, this whole situation makes Leona want to slam his head into a wall. Either way, feelings or regardless, Leona is now painfully aware that he’s attracted to Jamil, and in six days, he’ll have to see Jamil dressed in traditional Savanna attire. His home’s traditional attire.
I’m not going to survive this , he thinks, looking at where Jamil is brushing out his long, dark hair in Leona’s bathroom mirror.
Since NRC, Jamil has become a bit more casual with his appearance. He’s still well-kept and put together every single day, but he wears his hair down more often, and it's grown out nearly to his waist. Still, it's glossy and soft and Leona has been thinking about how badly he wants to run his fingers through it for the last five minutes.
“Staring,” Jamil says, and Leona flips him off.
Jamil smirks, setting the brush down and leaning on the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest. “Real mature, cat. Do I look that good?”
“You look like you just crawled out of someone’s bed,” Leona replies, and he’s unsure if it's a compliment or an insult.
Jamil tilts his head, apparently also unsure as his smirk shifts into a confused frown. Then he shrugs. “I’ll take that as a compliment, I guess.” He absently twirls one black lock of hair around his index finger and Seven, Jamil’s going to be the death of him. “I mean, it’s pretty hard to get lucky if you don’t look good, right?”
Leona doesn’t grace that with a response, instead choosing to roll over before he does something he regrets. If it was the last day, then maybe he would make a move, drag Jamil to him, and they’d ignore each other for a few days when they got back to Silk City. But it’s the first day of seven, and Leona isn’t going to completely ruin this whole trip just because his hormones are being f*cking ridiculous.
Jamil laughs at him, right as Leona’s phone begins to ring on his nightstand. He gives it a cursory glance and sees that Ruggie is video calling him.
Leona waves the phone toward Jamil. “Care to join us for a chat?”
“What, and let him see how debauched I look?” Jamil teasingly asks, smiling. “Sure, why not.”
He joins Leona on the bed, crossing one leg under the other as Leona shifts, sitting up with his back against the wall.
Leona answers the call, and Ruggie immediately cries, “Leo!”
“Hey, runt,” Leona says, and Jamil echoes his own, much friendlier, hello.
“Oh, Jamil, you’re there too? Great! How’s day one going, you guys?” Ruggie sets the phone down, then turns to start rummaging through the kitchen for pots and pans. Leona glances at the time. It’s only seven o’clock for him, which means it's around nine at night for Ruggie and Kalim.
As Jamil talks about their day so far- spending several minutes ranting about the grandeur of the Kingscholar palace to Ruggie, who looks amused- Leona lets his mind wander.
He’s got a fairly busy schedule until the celebration- between planning, preparing, and keeping Jamil from getting too bored, he’ll have very little time to himself. He’s not entirely upset about that, though, since time alone means time spent wondering what’s wrong with him all of a sudden.
Leona tunes back into the conversation as Ruggie talks about lunch with Kalim and Miyani, which had apparently been a pretty fun, casual affair in the courtyard of Kalim’s home. They talk for only a few more minutes before Ruggie’s dinner is ready and he hangs up to eat.
Then Leona and Jamil sit in silence for a few seconds until Jamil points out, “He didn’t mention Kariuki once.”
“Yeah. Maybe they’re fighting.” Leona can’t say he’s heartbroken about it. He didn’t care for Kariuki Kimani one bit, possible estranged Kingscholar or not.
Jamil shrugs. “Maybe.” He stands up and stretches his arms above his head. “Do we have any plans for tonight?”
“Jamil.” Leona eyes him, noting the tension in Jamils’ shoulders. Are you okay? is on the tip of his tongue, but he can’t bring himself to ask when Jamil turns to tilt his head at Leona.
“Yeah?”
Leona just raises an eyebrow at him, silently asking, how are you?
Jamil smirks slightly. “I’m fine. I’m just, you know, not thinking about it. Her.”
“Mmm. Well, good news for you. We’ve got a busy night.” Leona tosses his phone aside and gets up, moving to his closet. “Farena wants a big family night outing. That means you’re invited, since you’re a family guest.” He pulled out a sweater and shrugged it on, glancing at Jamil over his shoulder as he did. “You brought a sweater, right? It gets cold at night.”
“I know,” Jamil said breezily. “I brought a few. Where are we going, exactly?”
“We’ve got a smaller house up north, about twenty miles. We’ll both be staying there for two nights, with Cheka and Sirali. Farena’ll be coming back here tomorrow morning.”
“Alright. I’ll go get my stuff.”
Leona watches him leave, and not even thirty seconds after Jamil shut the door, it opens again, and Sirali walks in.
In the years since Leona saw her last, she’s changed her appearance up yet again. Before, she’d had long, chunky braids and almost exclusively wore dresses. Now she’d let her hair grow into an admittedly gorgeous Afro, and she wore a golden glittering blouse and white flowy trousers.
Leona flicks her a look as he turns to start packing a bag for the next few nights. “Sirali.”
“Leona,” she says, something peculiar in her tone.
He glances over his shoulder at her and freezes. The look in her eyes is dangerously familiar, one that she only gets when she thinks there is gossip to wrangle out of someone. Leona immediately throws his guard up as he says, “What do you want?”
“I just wanted to chat,” she says, smiling. “We hardly ever call or text.”
“Okay…” Leona says suspiciously, not believing her facade for a second. It’s not that he doesn’t think Sirali wants to know about his life. It’s just that they’ve never had a sit-down-and-talk kind of relationship; it’s always been more of the kind of relationship where they casually mentioned things about their lives in other conversations, and they each retained that information for reference later.
“Tell me about what’s been happening with you,” Sirali implores, taking a seat on the end of Leona’s bed.
As Leona packs, he tells her about Ruggie, Kalim, and Jamil- about their obnoxious relationship struggles, about Ruggie’s strange fascination with becoming a doctor, despite never showing an interest in it before, about how upset Kalim was that he wouldn’t get to see the other Kingscholars. After ten minutes, Sirali gently cuts in with, “Are you seeing anyone?”
Leona eyes her. “Hm. I knew that was what this was really about.”
“What do you mean?” Sirali co*cks her head to the side.
“You never ask about my life like that.”
Sirali blinks, a little guiltily. “Well, you know. It’s just, I was expecting you to bring Ruggie. I mean, you two are practically attached at the hip! Then, when Cheka said you arrived with a very pretty boy with you…”
“Very pret- Jamil ?” Leona crosses his arms and snorts. “Yeah, I’m not dating Jamil, if that’s what you think. And I have no interest in dating him, either.”
Sirali tilts her head ever so slightly further. “Why not? He’s cute, and Cheka says he seems to like you quite a bit. He said that Jamil kept looking at you while the three of you were together.”
“Why not? Well, for one, he’s annoying and stubborn. Two, he literally just broke up with his girlfriend of five months earlier today. Three, I’m not interested in f*cking around with my friends by dating one of them.”
Sirali smiles softly. “I see.” She stands up and gently brushes off her trousers. “Well, if anything changes, you’d better let me know, alright?”
“Yeah, whatever,” Leona says dismissively, waving her off.
“Leona.”
“Alright, alright. Fine.”
“Good. Now, we’re going to be leaving in three hours. Make sure you’re ready.”
“ I know. ”
-
Jamil stands at the end of a very, very long staircase leading up to the front door of the Kingscholar’s vacation home.
The other Kingscholars went inside several minutes ago, but Jamil feels rooted to the spot. Disconcertingly, Leona has been at his side since they stepped out of the car, one eye on the setting sun and the other on Jamil, like he’s fascinated by both.
Jamil isn’t stupid. He knows things are shifting rapidly, that things began shifting long before this morning, long before Nadya and Jamil even met. He simply refuses to acknowledge it for longer than a few seconds at a time.
Of course, Jamil shakes himself and glances at Leona. “We should go inside.”
Leona wordlessly nods and picks up his bag, flipping his hair back into place as he straightens. “Give me your bag,” he says, and Jamil pulls away from him slightly.
“What?”
“Give me your bag. Farena’ll be on my ass if I let you carry it yourself.”
Jamil frowns but hands his bag to Leona. He follows Leona up the stairs, eyes flicking between the yellow doorway up ahead to Leona’s back to the rapidly darkening sky. A thought scratches at the back of his throat, and Jamil swallows roughly to shake it away.
It has been less than twenty-four hours since Nadya left his apartment for the last time. Jamil is not going to treat Leona like any kind of rebound, emotional or sexual. He wouldn’t do that to anyone, but especially not one of his three closest friends.
Especially not Leona.
Inside, Jamil is led to a sprawling, gorgeous living room that’s easily the size of Jamil’s entire apartment in Silk City. Cheka has already settled onto the plush rug in the center of the room, powering on the TV and one of the six gaming systems. He sends Leona a glance and says, “I’m gonna play Zombie Chop .”
“Okay,” Leona says, looking unimpressed.
“It’s multiplayer.”
Leona gives Cheka a flat look, then gestures with his chin to his very full hands. “A bit preoccupied, chatterbox.”
“Oh…” Cheka’s ears flick, and he turns away, pouting up at the TV.
Jamil nudges Leona, hard . He sends Cheka a meaningful look, and Leona heaves a silent sigh, then says, “Maybe once Jamil and I are settled in. Maybe ,” he repeats when Cheka turns to him with perked-up ears and a big smile.
Leona heaves another silent sigh as he and Jamil trudge up the staircase together. “You know, I have to admit, I think I like this place better than the palace. It’s more homey,” Jamil says, walking fast to keep pace with Leona as they wind their way through the second-floor hallway.
“I’m not a fan,” Leona says shortly.
Jamil gives him a glance as they step into what is presumably one of several guestrooms, likely where he’ll be sleeping for the next two nights. “Why?” At Leona’s glare, Jamil guesses, “Bad memories?”
Leona unceremoniously drops Jamil’s bag onto the bed. “It’s where I got my scar.”
Jamil pauses, his hand halfway outstretched toward the bag. He almost wants to press the issue, but one look at Leona’s expression changes his mind. Whatever happened to Leona, it’s not his business, and he has the feeling that he’d be risking his safety if he pressed too hard. Instead, he hums and says, “I get that. The Asims have a summer home out by an oasis in the northern Sands. I could never stand being there when I was a kid. It’s where I first got poisoned.”
Leona shifts his weight slightly, looking uncertain of what to do with this sliver of information about Jamil’s childhood. “What?” Jamil asks, laughing slightly. “It’s not like it’s the worst thing I went through. Just one of the first things."
“That's-” Leona cuts himself off with an aggravated huff. “How can you laugh about that? You could’ve died.”
Jamil thinks about it as he pulls his sweater over his head, leaving himself in just a red tanktop and his jeans. “When I was at NRC, I wouldn’t have laughed about it. I would’ve blamed Kalim. Held it against him. Now… It’s just sh*tty circ*mstances and capitalism. Besides, once Kalim takes power, things’ll change. It’ll be better for the staff and servants at the palace. I don’t trust most people for most things, but I trust Kalim to do that much at least.”
Jamil turns back to Leona to see the beastman watching Jamil with an odd expression, a question plain on his face. Before Jamil can tell Leona to spit it out or knock it off, Leona simply hums and says, “Maybe you’re not as awful as you were when you were seventeen.”
Jamil snorts. “I mean, it’s been five years, but thanks, cat.”
“My pleasure, snake,” Leona bites back, smirking.
From downstairs, Cheka’s voice calls, “UNCA LEONA! ARE YOU COMING?” and Leona’s face falls.
“f*ck,” he mutters. “I was hoping he’d forget.”
Jamil snorts. “Yeah, right. Little kids don’t forget anything. Ever. Except for Kalim. Ugh, he couldn’t remember anything .”
“Couldn’t?” Leona asks, canting his head to the side.
Jamil laughs, a bit cruelly. “Right. He still can’t.”
“UNCA LEONA!?”
Leona heaves his third sigh in fifteen minutes and shouts, “I’M COMING.”
Jamil grins up at him, turning him by the shoulder and poking him on his spine, nudging him bit by bit toward the door. “Better get going, cat. I hear lion cubs can be pretty feisty things.”
-
It is roughly 11 P.M., and everything is achingly quiet. The loudest thing around Leona is Jamil, halfway asleep on the couch, and Cheka, curled up half on top of Jamil. The movie that Cheka had so loudly insisted that they watch had been turned off the second Cheka fell asleep, and it’s been silent since then.
Mostly, anyway, save for the half-hearted questions Jamil throws Leona’s way. Base-level things that they already know about each other, but ask anyway, simply for the sake of talking, of remembering in this all-consuming silence that they aren’t alone.
“Favorite color?” Jamil hums, one hand idly playing through Cheka’s curly mop of hair, longer now than it had been when he was eight. The other dangles limply off the edge of the couch, fingers brushing the floor.
“Hm. Orange. Favorite food?”
“Curry, exactly the way Kalim hates it. Extra spicy.” Jamil sighs quietly. “Seven, I’d kill for curry the way Najma makes it. It’s like a religious experience.”
“She’s as good a cook as you?” Leona asks from where he’s sitting on the rug in the center of the room, supporting himself with just his hands as he leans back, peering at Jamil in the moonlit dark.
“... Not quite,” Jamil says after a few seconds. “But in a year or two she’ll probably be kicking my ass in the kitchen. Once she makes some recipes of her own instead of just stealing all of mine to impress the Asims.”
Leona silently takes in that information. He’s well aware that Jamil doesn’t talk to his parents much anymore, since he stopped being a servant of Kalim and started being an employee of him. Najma, though, had Jamil’s back through everything. Leona’s not surprised. He’s seen them together a few times, and knows that if it came down to it, Jamil would throw anybody’s life away to protect his sister, and she’d do the exact same for him. “Your turn,” he says at last.
“Uhh… Favorite animal?”
“Seriously,” Leona deadpans, and Jamil bites his lip to keep from laughing.
“Right, stupid question. Okay, favorite song?”
“There we go,” Leona hums approvingly. “‘ Family Jewels. ’”
“Oh, you mean that song about how families suck that you always play when you’re getting ready for something? There’s a shocker,” Jamil says sarcastically.
“f*ck off. Favorite season?”
“Autumn.”
“Oh, you mean the season that’s all red and gold and brown? There’s a shocker,” Leona snarks, throwing Jamil’s words back at him.
This time Jamil can’t stop the snort that escapes him, and he swats at Leona’s leg. “f*ck you, cat.”
“Hey, watch it, snake.” Leona pulls his leg out of Jamil’s reach, trying to ignore how his heart stutters- awful, embarrassing, childish - at the contact.
“Shut up. Favorite movie?”
“ King of Beasts .”
Jamil shifts slightly to see Leona better, still cradling Cheka gently to him. “That’s about Scar, I assume?”
“Yeah. It’s a… mostly historically accurate retelling of his life. How he rose to power by overthrowing Mufasa.”
Jamil is quiet for a few seconds, then he says, “You remember those portraits in Crowley’s office? At NRC?”
Leona hums and Jamil continues, “I heard rumors that they could speak. Like, they communicated with Crowley. The Dark Mirror, too.”
Leona tilts his head to the side, then says, “That’s almost definitely bullsh*t. But I guess if anyone could pull that kind of magic off, it’d be the Seven.”
Before Jamil can reply, Cheka suddenly shifts, squirming in Jamil’s grasp, and sits up. Sleepily, he mumbles, “Where’s Mom?”
Leona and Jamil exchange looks, then Leona climbs to his feet and picks Cheka up. “Go back to sleep, chatterbox. I’ll take you to her.”
Cheka sniffs once, identifying Leona in his sleepy haze by scent alone, and nuzzles into Leona’s chest, letting out a tired yawn.
Jamil quietly rises from the couch, brushing his hand against Leona’s arm to gain his attention. “I’m going to go to bed. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” Leona murmurs, carefully keeping his voice low to not disturb Cheka.
Jamil looks up at him for a second, looking like he wants to say something else, then shakes his head and silently leaves.
Leona stands in the living room for a second, looking out of the tall, arched windows at the silent savanna. Then, where no one can see him, he presses a kiss to Cheka’s head and murmurs something to the boy. Without another word, he takes Cheka to Farena and Sirali’s bed and wakes Sirali up just enough for her to take Cheka and bundle him up in the middle of the bed.
Minutes later, Leona collapses into his own bed and stares at the ceiling. There’s something at the back of his mind, a vague thought that he’s too tired to properly grasp. As he tries to catch ahold of it, his eyes fall shut against his will and he falls asleep.
-
Five days until Cheka’s coronation…
Jamil wakes up to the curtain of his room being flung open and about 100 pounds of lion cub being dumped unceremoniously on him.
He groans, holding up a hand to shield his eyes from the harsh glare of the sun, and peers up past his fingers at Leona, who’s looking down at him with a smirk. “ What ,” Jamil snaps, glaring.
“Up and at’em, Sleeping Beauty. We’ve got a busy day ahead of us.”
Jamil groans and sits up, rolling Cheka off of him in one fluid motion. Cheka erupts into a fit of giggles as his head is temporarily lost in a mound of blankets. “What are we doing?”
Cheka’s head emerges from the mass of blankets. “We’re going to the zoo,” he happily announces.
Jamil raises an eyebrow at Leona, who simply shrugs. “Farena’s going back to the palace today, and Sirali and Cheka want to go to the zoo. We’re leaving in an hour.”
With that, Leona grabs Cheka by the back of his shirt and effortlessly picks the boy up, slinging him over his shoulder. Cheka yelps and dissolves into another fit of giggles, and Leona rolls his eyes as he turns to leave.
Jamil watches them go, then checks the time on his phone. 9:24. He shuts his eyes and falls back into bed, groaning. He gives himself only a few minutes to rest before he rolls out of bed and walks into the en-suite bathroom.
He washes his face, brushes his teeth, then eyes his reflection. He hasn’t braided his hair out of his face since NRC- he’s been too busy, too tired, he claims, but really, he just prefers simple ponytails as opposed to hairstyles that take hours or very exact magic. Still, if he’s going to be outside all day, then he doesn’t want his hair loose or getting in his face.
With a sigh, he grabs his magic pen and flicks his wrist, styling his hair into what had once been his signature look with an effortless burst of magic. Then he tosses his pen onto his bed and starts getting dressed.
Fifteen minutes later, there’s a knock at the door seconds before it is unceremoniously flung open. Jamil startles up from where he’d been dozing on his bed. Cheka stands in the doorway, dressed now in khaki shorts and a floral patterned button-up. He really does look like a mini-Farena, at least until he speaks. “Mom said it’s breakfast time. C’mon!”
Before Jamil can even move, Cheka’s at his side, using a frankly terrifying amount of force to drag Jamil halfway out of bed. “Cheka,” Leona snaps from the doorway. Cheka glances at Leona, co*cking his head to one side at Leona’s sharp tone. “Don’t drag people around like that. The f*ck is wrong with you?”
Cheka lets go of Jamil, who very nearly falls out of bed at the sudden loss of support. A second later, Jamil claws his way to his feet, off-balance and blinking hazily at Cheka. “You’re strong,” he notes.
Cheka turns back to Jamil, chest puffed out proudly. “I know! I’ve been practicing!”
“Boys!” Sirali calls from downstairs. “Let’s go !”
Cheka’s gone in a heartbeat, running down the hall. Jamil gives Leona an amused look. “I think he’s the most hyperactive eleven-year-old I know.”
“One, you don’t know many eleven-year-olds. Two, he’s not hyperactive. He’s immature.” Leona starts down the hall, and Jamil follows him, eyeing him the whole way.
“You always do that,” he notes. At Leona’s confused glance, he explains, “You always talk about Cheka like you can’t stand him, but you always give in to what he wants.”
“You can love someone and not be able to stand them,” Leona points out. “And I only give in to him so he’ll get off my ass for a few minutes.”
Jamil gets to Leona’s side and nudges him lightly. “So you do love him?”
“Of course I do.” Leona shakes Jamil off and says, “Now shut up.”
“Hm. Why’d you come up to my room if Sirali sent Cheka?”
“Because she sent me . Cheka just decided he wanted to see you.” Leona sniffs once. “I think he likes you more than he likes Ruggie, and he’s practically obsessed with him.”
Jamil smirked. “He has good taste.”
Right before they stepped into the dining room, Leona sent Jamil a skeptical glance. “Highly debatable.”
Sirali glances up when they walk in, beaming. “Jamil, good morning!”
“Good morning,” Jamil says, thrown off by her enthusiasm so early in the day. It reminds him of mornings with Kalim, and oddly enough, although the thought would’ve once been like poison to Jamil, it makes him smile a little.
Sirali gestures to the table, where six steaming plates are set out. “I made mandazi and kaimati.”
“And fruit salad,” Cheka says happily, stabbing at a strawberry on his plate.
Leona makes a face at the action, sending Jamil a look that says, all yours .
They all settle into their places except for Sirali, who heaves a sigh and says, “I’m going to go hunt down Farena. You boys start eating.”
She returns three minutes later with Farena in tow, and they all settle down to eat. Shortly after they finish, as Leona and Sirali start cleaning up, Farena calls, “Leona. I need to talk to you.”
Leona’s shoulders went rigid. “Busy.”
“Leona,” Farena says, sounding annoyed. “You never help clean after meals. We need to talk.”
Sirali gently says, “It isn’t anything bad, Leo.”
“ Leona . Not Leo ,” Leona snaps, then passes the stack of plates he was carrying to Sirali and stalks out of the room. Farena sends Sirali a glance, then follows him.
Jamil watches them go, then turns to Sirali. “Is everything alright?”
“Yes, of course,” Sirali says breezily. Then she pauses and says, “Well. You’re Leona’s friend, so… You know Leona and Farena don’t get along, right?”
“Yeah. Leona said it was because of the throne.”
Sirali purses her lips. “Something like that,” she murmurs, looking conflicted. She glances around to make sure they’re alone, then steps closer and says, “Do you know how Leona got his scar?”
“No, he doesn’t talk about it. He just… Said it happened here?”
“When he was eight. He… His father. He suffered from severe paranoia, and one night, he attacked Leona. Nearly took his eye out.” Sirali wraps her arms around herself, looking so deeply upset that Jamil almost tells her to stop talking. Before he can, she continues, “Farena stopped him before he could hurt Leona anymore. Leona… For some reason, he begged Farena not to imprison their father. He convinced Farena- both of us, really- to exile him, to ensure he could never get close enough to Leona to hurt him again, but not to charge him.”
Jamil forces a breath out. “sh*t,” he chokes out. “I always figured it was a fight or something. Not… Not that .”
Sirali’s eyes glitter with loathing. “It ruined Leona. He was always a quiet kid, introverted, but after that he became downright hostile.” Her expression softens slightly. “But he was still so kind-hearted. Even after everything, all of the rumors and lies the public spread about him when he was a teenager, everything with his parents- he wants to help people. He just doesn’t know how. He thinks he can only be useful if he has a crown, and he… He’s mad that he won’t. For his own sake, but also because he doesn’t think a prince can do much to help people who are suffering.”
Jamil leans against the counter, tapping his nails against the edge of it. “He’s kind of stupid like that. Always laser-focused on one way to get what he wants, and he refuses to see any other way. Even if the other ways would be easier, better, faster.”
Sirali laughs softly. “He wants what he wants, exactly how he wants it. He’s always been stubborn like that. I’d even say spoiled.”
Jamil shoots her a smile, amused at her brutal honesty, then startles as the back door slams open. Leona stalks past without a word, a murderous expression on his face, and Jamil listens as the front door opens and slams shut a second later.
Farena appears in the doorway, a hollow look on his face. “Sirali,” he says softly, and she’s at his side in an instant.
“What is it, love?” She asks, blatantly worried.
“Leona- Our-” Farena makes an aborted gesture at his side. “He’s back.”
“Who is?”
“Our father.”
-
Leona’s at the garage, hauling the door open, when the front door slams open. He hears rapid footsteps, and he snaps, “Not now , Farena.”
There’s a rush of a painfully familiar scent, something spicey and warm- something like comfort, like safety - and Jamil says, “ Leona .”
Leona turns to him, and Jamil draws up short at the look on his face. “Your father,” Jamil says, slightly out of breath. He can’t be so out of shape that running such a short distance would wind him, and Leona’s at a loss for what could be stealing his breath, until he sees that gleam in Jamil’s eyes. He hasn’t seen it since NRC, but he remembers it anyway- it’s the look Jamil got immediately before dueling someone, something wild and angry and viciously confident.
It makes Leona feel a little breathless, too.
“ Leona . Your- Sirali-” Jamil gestures weakly toward his face, and Leona understands. Sirali told him. Of course she did. “He came back-?”
“f*cking apparently .” Leona forces a hand through his hair, sucking in a painful breath. “Apparently he wants to come back for- for Cheka’s coronation. He wants to meet him.”
He’s not getting anywhere near Cheka, not unless he finishes what he started eighteen years ago and kills Leona. Jamil hesitates, eyes flashing. “Farena won’t let him. You know that.”
“It’s not Farena I’m worried about. It’s him . He’s f*cking- he’s insane, Jamil,” Leona hisses. “He’ll find a way to get in if he really wants to, and if he lays a hand on Cheka-”
“I know,” Jamil says. “ I know , Leona.” His hand drifts to the pocket of his black jeans, where Leona can see the tip of his magic pen. It’s a wordless threat, or maybe a promise, and Leona feels like he’s going to throw up.
Instead, his vision blurs with tears and he whips around, dragging a hand down his face. “Leona,” Jamil says quietly. His hand brushes against Leona’s.
“He won’t get to you. Or Cheka. You know I won’t let him.”
Leona scoffs. “ I won’t let him.” He pulls away and looks down at Jamil and realizes that Jamil knows . He knows what Leona is only just accepting, what Leona has been ignoring for months. “I’m not some helpless cub.”
Jamil smirks at that. “I know that. Think of me as a back-up plan.” He flips his hair over his shoulder. “Plan B.”
Leona shakes his head but can’t help the snort of amusem*nt that escapes him.
Jamil’s smirk fades into a Look . “Do you still need some time? Or do you want to come inside?”
Leona runs his fingers through his hair, sighing. “I’ll be in. Just give me a second.”
Jamil nods once, then silently left. Leona leans against the car, watching Jamil make his way back to the house. The idea of Jamil being a back-up plan, someone willing to keep Leona safe, makes Leona feel… strange. Not in a particularly bad way, though. It makes him feel embarrassingly warm .
Leona shakes his head and goes back inside.
-
Four days until Cheka’s coronation…
It’s three in the morning, and Jamil has been tossing and turning for hours, trying to get some rest. He’s exhausted after being hauled around the zoo by Cheka the day before, so tired that his eyes are dry and his bones feel lined with titanium, but his brain doesn’t care. It won’t quiet down long enough for Jamil to get any real rest.
He’s given up trying to sleep, to be fair. He's not even sure why he’s still in bed. As soon as the possibility to leave occurs to him, he throws the blankets aside and stands. He pulls a sweater out of the closet and shrugs it on, then opens the door.
Leona stands right outside, one hand lifted to knock, and he blinks at Jamil with a vaguely surprised look. “Hey.” His voice is barely audible.
“Hi. Is everything alright?”
“I can’t sleep,” Leona admits, one ear flicking in embarrassment. “I was coming to see if you were still up.”
Jamil spreads his hands, smiling thinly. “Well, here I am. Wanna go outside?”
Leona steps back and when Jamil starts down the hall, Leona follows. The air outside is nearly freezing, and it makes Jamil shiver despite his hoodie. He sits on the stairs, and Leona wordlessly sits next to him. Jamil isn’t sure how long they sit like that, perfectly silent, gazing out at the desert before them, but the sun is just barely kissing the horizon when Leona says, “Wanna go for a drive?”
“Sure,” Jamil says, but neither of them move. At length, Jamil asks, “Where to?”
“I don’t know.” Leona’s head bobs slightly like he’s too tired to hold it up, and when Jamil looks over he realizes Leona is shaking slightly, his eyes barely open but fixed on the ground. Jamil rests a hand on Leona’s shoulder.
“Hey,” he says softly. “Leona, are you okay?”
Leona nods once, stubborn to a fault. Jamil eyes him, but he knows Leona well enough to know that pushing the matter will get him nowhere. So he merely leans back on his hands and says, “Ready when you are.”
After a few more minutes, Leona pulls himself together and rises. Jamil follows him to the garage. Leona prowls between the countless cars for several minutes while Jamil watches, until he finally settles on a huge white SUV. He kicks the tire and says, “Let’s go,” without looking at Jamil.
-
Jamil, sitting in the passenger seat of Leona’s favorite car, is a sight to behold. If Leona wasn’t the one driving, he’d probably be staring at Jamil, and as it is he takes regular glances. His hair is loosely bound at the nape of his neck, swept back from his face. He’s wearing no makeup or accessories at all, only the striped sweater he accidentally stole from Ruggie months ago and black sweatpants, but Leona thinks that Jamil might be the most beautiful man he’s ever seen.
Neither of them speak as they drive out into the desert, but Leona can feel the tension and concern pouring off of Jamil in waves. He’s embarrassed about that near break down he’d had on the porch, but he’d been fighting off thoughts of his father all day and sitting there in the comforting silence of Jamil’s presence, he found that he simply couldn’t hold it back anymore.
His scar is itching. It’s too cold outside.
He stops the car when they reach a steep overhanging rock ledge. It looks out over an endless savanna, and they both peer out of Jamil’s window to look at it.
“It’s gorgeous out here,” Jamil says. “There’s so much more than in the Sands.”
“More what?”
“Everything.”
Leona looks at Jamil as best he can, and after a moment, Jamil turns to look at him. Leona doesn’t realize he’s touching his scar until Jamil reaches out and carefully pulls his hand away. “Scratching at it won’t help. We should get back home so you can get moisturizer or something.”
Leona looks down, examines the contrast between his hand and Jamil’s. His hand is broader, his fingers thicker, the cuticles picked at and a bit red from the constant anxiety he’d felt yesterday. His skintone is cooler than Jamil’s.
Jamil’s nails are covered in a glossy black nail polish, slightly chipped at the top.
Leona moves their hands, shifts their fingers until they’re interlocked, and holds their hands up so he can examine the faded scars on Jamil’s skin. He wonders if these scars ever itch, or if they’re only surface-level scars. The tension in the car is palpable, and Leona lifts his gaze to Jamil’s, just to see if he’s crossed a line.
Jamil’s eyes are wide, his expression both enamored and uncertain. “Leona,” he says softly.
Leona lets go of his hand and leans back, watches Jamil’s expression shift into a strange mixture of relief and disappointment. “We should head back to the palace before Sirali and Cheka get up.”
Jamil nods once, holding his hand close to his chest. The car ride back is silent.
-
Jamil finds Leona in his room a few hours later, lightly dozing. The door is cracked open, so Jamil knocks lightly on the doorframe and watches Leona stir. “Hey,” he says.
“Mmm. What.” Leona props himself up on one elbow, staring blearily at Jamil.
“I came to see if your scar was still bothering you.”
“Well now it is, now that you’ve got me thinking about it again.”
Jamil smiles apologetically. “Sorry. I’ll grab some moisturizer.”
Leona collapses onto his bed again. “Thanks, snake.”
Jamil nearly gets lost in Leona’s walk-in suite bathroom. It’s huge , obscenely so, and Jamil feels like it was designed specifically to confuse him. After a minute of searching, he finds a shelf stocked with various skincare products, including several jars and tubes of moisturizer. One reads: Zum Mond, für die Ewigkeit. Beneath it is a smaller label that reads, lavender, rose, jasmine, chamomile, and orange.
Jamil grabs that jar, just because it sounds like it smells fantastic, and the handwritten labels looks familiar, and takes it out to Leona. He sits next to Leona and says, “Let me,” before Leona can sit up.
Leona opens one eye- the unscarred one- and says, “You were gone for a minute. Get lost?”
“Almost,” Jamil says, laughing. He turns the jar so Leona can see the label and asks, “What does that say?”
Leona’s expression twitches, and his other eye opens. Carefully, he takes the jar and says, “ To the moon, for eternity . It’s from Vil.”
Jamil raises an eyebrow. “Huh. Didn’t realize you two were close.”
“It’s from NRC. Vil’s second year. He enchants all the products he makes so they don’t ever expire, and I just… I was never able to bring myself to throw this away.”
Jamil stays quiet as Leona talks, then carefully takes the jar back and says, “Close your eyes.”
Leona does, and Jamil scoops a bit of the cream onto his fingers and dabs it over Leona’s scar. Slowly, careful not to irritate the surrounding skin even more, he rubs it in and hears Leona sigh as it begins to take effect. “If it bothers you again after this, you should try a cool compress. They work great.”
Leona’s eyes open again, and Jamil realizes that he’s fully leaned over Leona, close enough that when Leona sighs this time, Jamil can faintly feel it ghosting over his cheek. “Jamil,” Leona says.
“Yeah?”
“You should go away before I do something we both regret.”
Jamil’s nerves spike, and he twitches away for just a moment before stilling. “I don’t want to,” he says softly. “I won’t regret it. Would you?”
“It’d ruin things. What we’ve got going on right now is perfectly fine.”
“For you . Maybe it’s not for me.” Jamil turns his head away and sits back, and Leona readily follows him, frowning.
“How could it not be fine for you? It was fine when you were dating Nadya.”
Jamil shrugs stiffly. “I liked Nadya. I did. But not the way I like you, Leona. I think I was using her so I didn’t have to acknowledge that I wanted things to change between us.”
Leona raises an eyebrow. “That’s f*cked up.”
Jamil winces. “I know. I’d call her to apologize, but she already blocked me. I think she figured it out when I said I’d rather come here with you than stay there with her.”
Leona’s expression changes ever so slightly. “Probably. If you said it like that, then yeah. You didn’t exactly make it hard to figure out.”
“That’s… Basically how I said it, yeah.”
They stare at each other for a moment, then Leona slowly says, “You want things to change between us?"
“Yes.”
“Alright.” Leona leans forward ever so slightly. His voice changes when he asks, “Can I kiss you, Jamil?”
“If you don’t, I might tell Sirali to put me on the next flight home.”
Leona laughs at that, and Jamil shuts him up with a kiss.
-
Leona and Jamil have been curled up together for… Leona could swear it’s been days, weeks, just the two of them locked in their own world of inside jokes and slow, sweet kisses, but realistically he knows it’s only been an hour, maybe two.
Jamil tastes like something Leona has had before but can’t quite remember, like the memory of a treat from weeks before. He’s warm, everywhere he touches Leona- running his fingers through Leona’s hair, trailing his jaw with kisses, tracing circles on Leona’s hip- and the way he kisses is something Leona could lose himself in for the rest of his life. Leona has kissed more people than he can name, but he doesn’t think he’s ever been kissed like this. Like the entire world begins and ends with the two of them, like Leona is the only person Jamil has ever truly wanted to kiss.
Leona is hopeless, and it’s only dawning on him now. He gets shaken out of his thoughts by a finger tapping against his collarbone. “Hello?” Jamil says. “Dialing Leona. Anyone home?”
Leona swats Jamil’s finger away. “What?”
Jamil’s head is nestled against Leona’s shoulder- they’re not kissing right now, but literally only because Jamil had complained that his lips were going numb. If Leona had it his way, they’d never stop- and he tilts it just enough to smile at Leona. “You spaced out on me.”
Leona tightens his arm around Jamil’s waist, pulling him closer. “I’m tired.”
“Go to sleep,” Jamil suggests, bemused. “We’ve both been up since yesterday.”
Leona hums, his eyes already drifting shut. “You should sleep too.”
“I will,” Jamil promises, and the last thing Leona feels before he falls asleep is Jamil kissing his cheek softly.
