animatedsmoke | (no subject)

(no subject)

Who: Potemkin, Ky Kiske
When: Holy Order AU
Where: Illyria Castle
What: Dress-up, One-sided love

It was at a quiet hour shared by no one else that the dutiful servant made his way down the halls to a certain bedroom. If it weren't for his uniquely impressive physique nothing would single out this man from any other worker in the castle, his plain uniform shirt peaking at the muscles of his back because of him keeping his head down. After a polite knock with knuckles that could punch through the whole door, he opens the door for himself and steps inside. This is a big occasion which will not wait for either of them; and if his majesty forgot, then his job would be to make him remember.

Potemkin doesn't wait for Ky before he prepares, laying out the tailor's parcel he was carrying. A platform was brought in earlier, the center of a stand of mirrors, so the next item of business is the man himself. Potemkin calls out while still hunched over his work, "My lord, I've arrived to attend to you."

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Ky did forget, actually. Or rather, he might have purposely pushed it out of his mind. He's not fond of events like these, the showy and unproductive displays that they are. He'd rather bury himself in his work and continue doing what he can to improve the livelihoods of his citizen. There are too many small towns that are still struggling with post-war reconstruction and infrastructure. They depend on him for assistance.

Potemkin's voice comes as a surprise to Ky, though the larger man has good timing. He pokes his head out of the other room, having just finished what was supposed to be a brief shower before returning to his paperwork.

"I beg your pardon?" He calls out as he towel dries his long hair. Thank goodness he at least has his pants on already.

Edited 2018-04-02 05:48 (UTC)

Potemkin looks away from his accounting of every empty sleeve and sock, only for his mind to go blank when he turns around.

Everything Potemkin could say about his former commander, present lord and leading example would be no secret. That he meant the world to him, that he felt he was the man worthy for him to serve with everything up to his life. But, as Potemkin found out years ago, he didn't just admire, he came to care for the man. Ky trusting him with the closest assignments is both his most treasured honor and the most wretched curse.

But Potemkin's sight of his duties is unwavering. He's practiced in remembering the only thing to keep in mind, regardless of whatever else feelings he has.

"It's the Invitational today." Potemkin walks up to the dripping king, ready to brush off the stray and peaking hairs on his head. "You're not ready," he says factually.

One can practically see the dark cloud forming over Ky's head as he eyeballs the beautifully tailored outfit.

"Oh." He's not even mentally ready for this. "That's today."

A pause.

"It's... an optional event, isn't it?"

"For you, no, my Lord." Potemkin uses an uncompromising stance when babysitting his superior.

"You are a written part of the attendance, before it even started." Having said that, Potemkin raises his hand to pat the top of Ky's head, lightly pushing away the towel while shifting through his hair to make it neater. "Let me help you finish your hair."

At least he tried. Ky relents easily, not wanting to trouble Potemkin doing his duty. He sighs and nods.

"I appreciate it, thank you." Not that Ky really needs help with it, but Potemkin is a professional at quickly getting it dry. It's like magic. "I don't mean to complain, but I wish I could send someone else in my place. There's much more I could be finishing during the time instead, and the attendees need only a representative of the kingdom."

Potemkin is an inexhaustible mound of patience, working as an ear for Ky's laments while he moves them both over to a mirrored desk. He might have been stern, but Ky's care for all people leaves Potemkin awed in its nobility, and he has no reluctance in sympathizing with it.

"I know what you can do," Potemkin talks while leaning over his hair. He takes up the towel and buffs it along the length of Ky's freshly cleaned hair while carrying on the conversation. "But, you are still doing something for Illyria by being there."

Ky tilts his head as he obediently walks over and seats himself at the desk.

"You are right, of course," he admits. His hair fwips around in the air as Potemkin works his magic. He can feel it beginning to fluff up as it dries, strands no longer weighed down by water. "I shouldn't protest like this. I suppose I'm simply frustrated with my current obstacles in providing aid to a few towns. It shouldn't be this difficult, and yet..."

Overhead, out of range from the ends of hair flying around, Potemkin can't help but try to solve the logistics too. He may have been retired from his job, a warless soldier, but long-held mentalities like that don't adapt so easily. He keeps it in his head though. Instead he encourages Ky down a different path.

"Frustration adds nothing toward improvement. I'm no master at practicing that, but I have better hopes for you, my lord."

Ky chuckles, sheepishly ducking his head for a minute.

"Your expectations for me are far too high, Potemkin." He says with amusement. "Don't you remember my argumentative behavior during the war? I was young, then, but I don't think all of it has left me yet."

It's quite a thing to admit, but Ky trusts Potemkin. He knows it won't be used against him.

Potemkin releases an accepting sigh, as the working of the towel ceases and Potemkin gives it a rest.

"There are many who have learned less in that time. You would still be among my first guesses on the one to finally get it."

Potemkin's hand moves over to a drawer of the desk, picking out exactly which knob to pull to get a hair brush to come into view.

"You flatter me."

Ky watches Potemkin's hand gently open the drawer for the brush. He isn't incapable of tidying his own hair, but there's something very comforting about Potemkin doing it for him. It's rather selfish of him, but he enjoys the feeling. Perhaps it's a sign of becoming a little too pampered as a king...

"I don't do flattery," Potemkin grunts. He lifts the brush out of the drawer by its handle. Once it's in the open Potemkin adjusts his grip to hold it normally, even though his hand is relatively too massive for it. But Potemkin makes do, and always with surprising skill and delicateness, which is rather in line with his caring for Ky as a whole.

Now set on tackling the blond hair falling over in front of him, Potemkin starts by gently lifting it off his bare back.

After just a touch his heart flutters. For just a moment, Potemkin's feelings aren't something under questioning for their existence and unwantedness, and Potemkin only feels thankful that he has this. Without any troubled thoughts Potemkin is glad that he can be graced with touching Ky's hair, which is just as beautiful to him as when he sees Ky from afar.

The only thing watching him from this angle is the back of Ky's head, so Potemkin can let out the barest sign of a smile as he brushes.

Ky keeps his head still as Potemkin handles his hair, quiet and patient as he's brushed like a prized pet. For someone with such incredible strength, Potemkin's hands are gentle and delicate. There's no awkward bumping or pushing. It's a sign of true restraint and control, Ky thinks to himself. Potemkin can detangle any snags with Ky barely noticing. He admires the man for his ability to adjust himself.

The blond remains silent. Potemkin can't see his face from where he's standing, but Ky's shoulders are completely relaxed. The only visible sign of contentment that can be seen from behind.

Potemkin quietly notes his thankfulness that he is able to bring such peace to the King right after he had expressed all of his dissatisfaction and malcontent. His brush moves over Ky's head through his golden hair, all towards making it smooth and flawless. Potemkin checks his work by picking up a few strands and letting it flow through his fingers.

"Would you like to see what you're wearing before coming to a style?"

You'll look radiant any way you put it crosses his head, but Potemkin is good at keeping his mind ahead of his tongue and it gets squashed before it ever leaves.

Ky turns his head just enough to peek over his shoulder.

"Is my clothing different from the usual formal suit?" He asks curiously. "Wouldn't it be fine to simply put it up?"

"The expenses were paid weeks ago, but were only delivered upon now. I don't think you've ever put it on before." Potemkin thinks back to when he was fussing over it earlier, the appearance of the outfit quite clear in mind because of that. But that's very different from what it would look like when on Ky.

"Hmm." Ky ponders it for a moment. Then, he nods.

"Let's take a look at it, then." He stands. "I should at least try it on properly since we've put funds into tailoring it."

Funds that would've been better put towards something nice for his knights, but he'll hold his tongue on that one.

Potemkin nods, and steps out of the way for his king to take the lead.

While Ky makes his own way to the cleared out fitting area, with platform and mirrors and all, Potemkin moves around behind, milling around like a stagehand of the ongoing play.

Ironically he ends up there sooner than Ky, picking up a white shirt off the table before turning to Ky. "Stand straight for me, your highness."

"Sir. Yes, sir."

Potemkin is the commanding officer for now, it seems. Ky stands at attention, watching Potemkin busily move about. Despite his earlier protests, he's rather curious to see how this outfit turned out. Especially since his attendant seems to be invested in making sure it looks appropriate.

Potemkin's look has turned outright intense, with squinting and tongue-biting. A little bit of ribbing from Ky does nothing to stop him, and as soon as permission is given Potemkin fits the shirt over his back while keeping his stare on Ky the entire time.

He starts to pull the shirt together to the front, but waits for Ky to lift his arms when the sleeves cross over them.

The amused look on Ky's face never falters for a second. Who would have guessed this giant man who stopped large-class Gears in their tracks with his fists alone could be so particular about details and appearances? It never fails to capture Ky's notice. He can't help watching Potemkin with rapt attention.

The obedient king moves his arms about and adjusts himself as Potemkin needs. Playful as he might be feeling, he isn't about to hinder someone as determined as Potemkin is right now.

Edited (repetition) 2018-04-07 07:05 (UTC)

With Ky's arms raised and out Potemkin pulls the cloth over them. With both sleeves done all that's left is to close it, and Potemkin looks at the two edges held in his hands. Potemkin's thoughts were running so fast, he didn't have time to deviate from a razor's focus. It only occurs to Potemkin now that he just solved his problem of dealing with a shirtless Ky.

Potemkin wishes that those earlier nerves return to him. Potemkin naturally moves on to doing the buttons, not once questioning his ability to put each button in its button hole. But it requires him to go slow for his fingers to push each button, and it takes his hands slowly moving up Ky's chest.

He tries, again, to bring that focus back.

Edited (typo) 2018-04-08 06:12 (UTC)

Ky quietly watching Potemkin tenderly buttoning up his shirt probably doesn't help. It's a quiet bemusement combined with a peaceful comfort that stems from the other man's attention and care. His chest moves slightly as he breathes, threatening to disturb Potemkin's efforts. As the large fingers climb higher and higher along his chest, Ky can't help chuckling.

"You're too kind," he comments softly. "I could do this myself, you know. I may be a king, but that doesn't mean I should overwork you."

Each time Potemkin grazes the cloth lying on top of Ky's body or the last segment of his finger lightly bends against Ky's rising chest, Potemkin feels a spike of burning nervousness. It dissipates just as fast when he lifts his fingers, and they're never in one place for long.

He's still silently relieved that he's reaching the top of the shirt.

"It's my pride, too. I won't leave a job half-finished," Potemkin replies, his head hanging right by Ky.

Ky remains still, undisturbed by their proximity. A small huff of laughter escapes his lips.

"I know," he says. "You were like that during the war, too. There wasn't a single order given to you that was left incomplete. You were always dependable. One of our best."

His expression goes a little distant as he's lost in his memories. The war was full of many horrors and sorrow, but there were also shining moments of hope and trust during those years. The people who supported him and the Holy Order were examples of it.

"It's funny how we have and haven't changed," he muses. "I can hardly believe it's been over ten years since the end of the Crusades."