Aqrabuamelu Boyfriend: Vasumat Part One (complete)

My parents were part of a rebel group whose goal was to destroy the Aqrabuamelu as a whole. Their faction was intent on creating soldiers who were immune to the poison of the Aqrabuamelu, particularly their Deathstalkers. Like most children in our small village, I was raised on regular injections of poison to build up a tolerance to them. I grew up quite weak, if you could say I grew up at all. Even now, I get mistaken for a child. 

My parents and the other rebels were all captured and tried for treason against the kingdom. When it was discovered they were poisoning their own children, additional punishment was laid upon their heads. The Aqrabuamelu royal family took it upon themselves to help the children like me who were being raised to be soldiers. They helped us convalesce, gave us an education, and gave us a chance at a better life. 

Not all of us stayed, but I did, happy where I was and eager to continue working in the royal palace. Due to my unique abilities, I earned a spot of high honor within the court. I became the royal taster, able to spot imperfections and possible poisons within the food. Due to my immunity, I got a stomachache at most, depending on the toxin. I became a regular fixture in the Royal court, attending to Rajarshi and his guests.

After my humble beginnings, growing up in the palace was completely strange to me. I was given baths every day, had a warm bed every night, and was surrounded by strong, handsome knights in gold armor. I was used to the idea of fending for myself, or vomiting all night from training for poison immunity. The foods I was given were rich and delicious, nothing like the scraps I lived on when I was small. The schooling I received placed me beside children of nobility and the children of the high court. This was a common practice, intended to keep the royal children humble and aware of the world around them. This did not stop some children from being cruel. I was bullied, mainly for my short stature and for being the child of traitors.

But I had a protector - Vasumat, the literal golden child of the castle. He was the son of Malik, a living legend, the most decorated warrior of all the Aqrabuamelu. It was Malik’s suggestion that saved the children like me after our families were charged with treason. He was as wise and kind as he was strong and formidable. 

Vasumat had a lot riding on his shoulders, but even in youth he exuded the same heroism and strength as his father. He became my guardian, unable to stand the constant bullying he witnessed me being subjected to. He stood up for anyone he felt was being treated unjustly.

“Are you alright, Amora?” he would ask me.

“I’ll be fine,” I would say, dusting off my knees and looking up at him. 

Vasumat was beautiful, even as a child. He had long golden hair he kept braided into a circlet around the crown of his head. His skin was amber, with stripes of dark green and gold. His shell was a deep gold like burnt sand. But Vasumat’s most captivating feature were his green eyes. Most Aqrabuamelu had brown, red, or black eyes, so Vasumat’s golden-green ones earned him instant admiration.

As we grew up, I fell into my role as the court taster and became a part of Rajarshi’s entourage. Vasumat followed in his father’s footsteps and became a powerful warrior, working his way up through the ranks until he became Rajarshi’s General. 

Now Rajarshi has married Queen Erameni, and I have been given to her to become her taster and companion. The two of us have become friends very quickly, and she is more like a sister to me than anyone has ever been.

“Lady Amora,” Erameni says one morning, excitement bubbling in her voice. Why she calls me ‘Lady’ I’ll never understand. “We should go down and watch the knights train.”

I am sniffing her tea, placing my face over the mouth of the jar and taking a deep whiff. I detect nothing, so I begin preparing her morning brew. “What for?” I ask.

“Everyone is getting ready for the Golden Festival,” she says, joining me back by the table. She’s just found out she’s pregnant, and already her belly is starting to show. “This includes the Gold Rings challenge. All the knights and warriors are preparing for it. Vasumat has been leading extra training sessions.”

I chuckle, tasting the tea just in case before pouring Erameni a cup. “That still does not answer my question.”

“When I was still a maid here, I used to love going down to see the warriors train,” she gushes. “Now, they’re holding actual matches as part of their training.”

I smirk to myself. “You weren’t horny at all, were you, my queen?” I tease her gently, watching as her face blooms bright red. She sputters into her tea.

“Come now, Lady Amora!” She dabs at her mouth. “You must admit, the men are beautiful to watch.”

“Oh, sure. With their rippling muscles, sweat gleaming down their backs, and the chance to kiss their boo-boos, why not?” I offer her a cookie from a tin.

Erameni cocks her brow up at me. “Do you not like men, Lady Amora?”

“I’ve had one or two for breakfast.” I dunk my cookie, heavily spiced with Rakshasa cinnamon, into my tea. “I tolerate men, but like is such a strong word.”

“Then do you prefer women?” Erameni asks gently.

I know she’s not trying to be rude; she’s just curious. She wasn’t raised in the palace, with the Aqrabuamelus’ ideals of free love and sex as an experience to be shared. She isn’t used to sexuality, or at least, she is trying her hardest to understand it.

“I admire women,” I answer her. “Who doesn’t?”

Erameni nods. “I see, I see,” she murmurs. “Most of the Aqrabuamelu are like that around here, I’ve noticed.” She sets her tea down. “So, would you like to go watch the training fights with me?”

“I’m not going to leave you alone down there,” I scoff. “Those people are crazy.”

Her smile is a reward in itself. She’s like the little sister I always wanted. 

We go down to the Knight’s Wing of the castle, which are made up of the quarters for the knights and guards as well as the massive training field outside. Already, there is a large crowd of staff and nobles gathered outside. I bring Erameni to a special box made for just the royals to use. Inside, she has a chair and an extra banister to protect against thrown combatants. I stand before her while she sits, leaning over the railing as the warriors fight.

“My, my,” Erameni coos. “I swear, Vasumat must not be of this world.”

I scoff. “Trust me, I grew up with him. He is wholly of this earth.”

“How so?” Erameni chuckles. 

“When you watch someone eat their own boogers, you realize that no amount of beauty and charisma can make you otherworldly,” I sigh. 

Vasumat is fighting against two warriors. He has no armor or weapon, and his long hair has fallen from the braided crown. One fighter pulls at a swinging braid, and his hair falls out of it like a waterfall of gold. Vasumat uses his tail, wrapping it around one warrior’s neck then tossing him into the other.

Vasumat has competed in the Gold Rings tournament every year since he was sixteen. The tradition was begun to honor his father, so of course Vasumat takes it very seriously. He has won every year for the last four years - it would have been more, but he’s so often away. It has become even more important to him to win these challenges since his father became ill. Aqrabuamelu are by all accounts immortal, able to live indefinitely if they have perfect health. But they are susceptible to illness and death like anyone else. Malik has contracted a very rare and very deadly disease, and despite surviving it he has grown very weak and feeble. Vasumat cares for him and worries each year could be Malik’s last.

As Vasumat battles, he is turned towards Erameni and me. His eyes widen for a moment, and a smile crosses his face. He engages in the fight with renewed vigor, lashing out at the two opposing warriors.

Erameni gasps and claps her hands, excited by the new energy of the battle. “Isn’t this wonderful, Lady Amora?”

“Oh, sure. I love the smell of dental work in the morning.” I rise up from the banister and take a step back, placing myself in front of Erameni as a body is hurled at the banister.

Erameni yelps, and I step forward. 

“Why do you do this to yourself?” I ask the figure sprawled on the railing.

Vasumat rises up, coming extremely close to my face. He wears a grin that could melt the stoniest of hearts. “Hello yourself, my lovely Mo.” He brushes his fingertips along the side of my face, moving my hair aside. “Enjoying the show?”

I smirk at him. “Are you?”

His long hair falls along his face and chest, a rare and enviable sight. Even I must admit that, with his hair down, Vasumat is truly not of this world. I take the tie from my hair and reach out, gather up his locks and tie them away. 

“There is a shortage of perfect scalps in this world. It would be a pity to damage yours,” I tease him.

“They’ve been grabby, haven’t they?” He slips his fingers under my chin. “Give me a kiss, Mo, for luck?”

“They’re coming fast, Vasumat,” I scold him in a whisper.

“I always take my time to come,” he purrs suggestively as our lips touch. 

I tug his ponytail hard as I kiss him, moaning softly as his sharp teeth nip my bottom lip. As he pulls back, his smile is as bright as sunshine.

“Above,” I warn him and step away.

Vasumat reaches up, grabbing the combatant’s wrist and twisting his arm as he moves aside. I return to standing beside Erameni while Vasumat shows off.

“Lucky,” Erameni swoons.

“Says the Queen,” I rib her. 

She cups her cheek in her palm. “I do miss Rajarshi right now,” she sighs. “But I know he’s busy with his meetings with Ikshan and Princess Damini today.”

“You’ll have him all night, with all that built-up energy. No worries.” I pat the top of her head.

“Have you and Vasumat ever...?” Erameni trails off as she continues to watch the fight.

I sigh as memories of stolen moments came to my mind. “I’ve had him for breakfast,” I reply. “And lunch… and dinner. He’s one of the few I more than tolerate.”

“How romantic,” Erameni sighs dreamily.

“Not exactly,” I grunt. 

When the fight ends in Vasumat’s victory, he returns over to our booth. “Good afternoon, my Queen. It’s wonderful to see you here today.”

“Very happy to see you in good form, Vasumat,” Erameni blushes. “You’re a shoo-in for this year’s Gold Ring.”

“I want to be, but I’m afraid I am not the young man I once was.” He glances at me. “Unless my lovely Mo can grant me her luck again.”

I raise my eyebrows at him. “How come it works for you when it has never worked for me?”

Vasumat reaches back, taking out my hair tie so that his beautiful locks cascade around his body again. “Here.”

“Ew.” I push it back. “Keep it. You’ve gotten it all sweaty and bloody.”

Vasumat grabs my hand and tugs me close. “A reward? Thank you.” He leans in, pressing his lips to my ear. “Can I see you?”

“You’re looking at me right now,” I scoff.

“No, you ass,” he grunts. “I need to speak with you in private.”

I furrow my brow. “What’s wrong?” I ask softly. “Is everything okay?”

“Please, Mo?” he presses in a sad, quiet voice. “I need you - even for an hour, if that’s all you have.”

“If it’s urgent, of course. Meet me after supper,” I tell him. “In our usual place.”

Vasumat kisses my cheek. “Thank you, Mo. You don’t know how badly I need this.” His soft green eyes look at me like he’s lost. “I need you.”

“It’s okay,” I murmur. “I’m here for you, always.”

As Vasumat returns to the ring, gathering his hair up to tie it again. I step back towards Erameni, who takes my arm.

“What’s going on?” she asks, concerned.

I shake my head. “Vasumat and I have an agreement. When we need someone, we ask each other. I’m not sure what he needs, but he needs me tonight. I’ll leave after supper, if that’s alright.”

“Of course,” Erameni nods. “I never realized how close you two were.”

“It’s not something I like to announce.” I glance back at the ring as Vasumat helps the warriors he just fought with. “Our story is a long one.”

That evening, after supper has been had and I have tested the drinks, I leave to meet with Vasumat. There is an enclosed gazebo in the garden. The walls are made from intricately cut lattices and, inside, there are vines coming down from the ceiling that weave through the woodwork. Vasumat and I have always considered it our special place.

When I arrive, Vasumat is there. He is clean and oiled, his hair returned to its braided crown. He comes towards me as I walk in, instantly wrapping his arms around me.

“Vasumat, what is wrong?” I hold him tight. “Tell me.”

“My father,” he whispers. “I’m scared I’ll lose him, Mo.”

I touch his face and see tears in his eyes. “I’m so sorry. What’s going on? Has something changed?”

Vasumat nuzzles into my palm. “He sleeps a lot.” More tears fall from his eyes. “And it just seems like there is less and less of him each day. I don’t know what to do. I have tried everything!”

I kiss him softly. “Is there anything I can do?” I hold his face between my hands. “Anything at all.”

Vasumat leans in, kissing me again. “Just hold me, Mo,” he sniffles. He lays his head on my shoulder as his arms hang loose around my waist. “For a minute.”

“I’ll hold you for as long as you need.” I rub my hand down his back, gently stroking. I lead him to sit down on a bench, letting him lay in my lap. After a time of quiet and warmth, Vasumat lifts his head. His eyes are red from tears, but it looks like there is a weight lifted from them.

“Mo,” he sighs as he looks at me. His hand brushes against my cheek, then cups the back of my neck. I close my eyes as he kisses me, and I wrap my arms around his neck.

“Thank you,” he whispers. “You have no idea what this means to me.” He kisses my cheek and down my neck.

“I’m always here for you. You know that.” I grunt as he opens my robe. His fingers brush against my nipples, then his head ducks down, kissing them and licking them. My breasts are small, almost nonexistent, yet Vasumat treats them as though they’re something grand.

“Mo,” Vasumat slurps as his black tongue grazes my skin. “Let me thank you.”

“You don’t need to,” I fuss. I gasp out loud as he bites my nipple. 

Vasumat chuckles. “Like that, huh?” He tongue darts across his lips. “Please, Mo,” he pleads. “You always help me so much when I’m scared.”

I kiss him again. “I like knowing I’m the only one who sees you this way,” I whisper. “Is that greedy?”

Vasumat kisses me again, tangling his fingers in my hair. “I like having both my cocks inside you. That’s greedy,” he laughs. “But you’re the only one I feel myself around besides my father.” He kisses the tip of my nose. “That’s important to me.”

My heart is aching for him. “I like both your cocks too. That’s just sharing.”

Vasumat laughs. “You want to share then?”

I kiss him, pressing close. “Just tell me you’re okay,” I plead. “Don’t hide yourself in pleasures to escape your pain. Promise me?”

Vasumat presses his forehead to mine. “I promise, Mo.”

I open my robe up completely, exposing my body to him. He picks me up, easily carrying me. As he removes his belt, his cocks spring out, slapping against my ass. I wrap my legs around his waist as he rubs himself against my ass and thigh.

Vasumat has always been the type of person to use sex as a tool to cope. He’s a regular fixture at the orgies, and has many lovers of all kinds. I have been his only constant, as he has been mine. 

“I’m going in,” Vasumat moans to me as his cock presses to my slit. As he fits inside me, the second rubs against my belly. I reach down, touching the tip as Vasumat moves me. He gasps and moans, his lashes fluttering as he buries himself in me.

“Your hair,” I whimper. “Take it down.”

Vasumat lays me down on the marble seat. He stays inside me while he takes down his hair and runs his fingers through the braids. His long, golden locks hang around him, granting me my favorite sight. 

I reach for him, pulling him down to kiss him. He moves again, shallowly, knowing that going too deep sometimes hurts for me. Then he takes his other cock and, using the slick fluid from the tip, uses it to press a finger into my ass. He then eases the tip of his second cock inside, using more of his own precome to ease the way. Once he’s inside, I start to tremble.

“You ok, Mo?” he whispers.

I nod, gulping down a breath. “Yeah,” I moan. “You know what this does to me.”

Vasumat smirks, kissing my neck. “I know, and I like doing it.”

I whimper as he rocks his hips, moving slowly inside me, using both cocks to pleasure me. A chill goes through my body, making every hair stand on end. I gasp, clutching his arms as he starts to move faster, harder. 

Every fiber of my being feels alive, each one aching to be touched and aroused by Vasumat. My back bends off the cold marble, lifting my body up. I cry out as Vasumat does, his body jolting, bucking, then stilling as he releases inside me.

We lay together, curled up in the shadows. I breathe the scent of his hair as my fingers glide down his skin.

Vasumat lifts his head, kissing me. “Thank you, again,” he murmurs.

“I would do absolutely anything for you.” I wrap his hair around my fingers and kiss it. “You’re important to me.”

Vasumat nuzzles my neck. “I’d be lost if you weren’t here.”

“You’re smart. You’d find your way again,” I sigh. I lay back as he rests his head on my chest. “Let me come by and see your father,” I murmur. “Even just to understand a bit better.”

“I don’t want you to worry.” Vasumat hides his face.

“I already do, you fool,” I grunt. 

Vasumat lifts his head again, looking at me with teary eyes. “Alright,” he says. “Maybe it will help somehow.”

I kiss him again. “When you cry, it breaks my heart. I just want to take care of you.”

“Kissing helps,” he moans.

I smile, letting out a soft laugh. “I bet it does.”

Vasumat picks my robe off the ground and drapes it around me. “Come around in the morning, if you can. That’s usually when the nurse is there, and he’s at his best.”

I cup his cheek in my hand. “You’re a good son, Vasumat. No doubt in my mind, Malik is so proud of you.”

Vasumat kisses my palm. “Are you proud of me too?”

I smile. “We’ll see.”

In the morning, I make sure Erameni is taken care of before I leave to go to Vasumat’s home. He lives outside the palace, in a house that was given to Malik after he married. When Vasumat was born, his mother left them, and for a long time their family has only been the two of them.

Malik’s nurse is a Kobold woman named Sopa, who is very educated in medicine. She’s sweet and dotes on Malik, but I don’t really care for her. Something about her sweetness bothers me.

“Amora, welcome!” Sopa greets me as I come into the door. “Would you like anything this morning?”

Vasumat comes out of the back. A smile spreads across his face when he sees me.

“I’m fine. Thank you, Sopa.” I shake my head. 

I notice Vasumat reach for something Sopa has prepared, and she slaps his hand away. “No! No! That is your father’s!” She points. “Yours is there.”

“Oh, thank you, Sopa.” Vasumat goes over to a separate pot of tea, which he pours for himself. 

I glance back at the kettle Sopa was worried about. It seems odd she would bother with making two pots when Malik probably won’t drink more than a single cup.

“Sopa,” Vasumat says, “Mo is here to visit with Father.”

“Uh-” Sopa glances at me with a wary expression. “That’s good! He needs more visitors, you know?”

“Here, then.” I offer to take the tray. “Let me serve him breakfast, and you can have a break.”

Sopa doesn’t let go, keeping a firm grip on the tray. “I would rather serve him,” she says. “He’s used to me and I know how to treat him.”

“That’s her job at the palace, Sopa,” Vasumat chuckles. “Take a rest. You work so hard around here.”

Sopa reluctantly releases the tray. “These are special, only for him,” she tells me sternly. Then she watches me as I take the tray into Malik’s chambers.

“My, my, I know these eyes are failing, but I swear, this visage looks like Amora.” Malik’s voice is weak and tiny. 

“It’s me,” I chuckle. I sit down, placing the tray on the edge of the bed. Malik looks frail and small. Back in his day, he was the biggest Aqrabuamelu in all the country. It would be hard to believe that, seeing him now.

“It’s so wonderful to see you,” Malik breathes. “Sopa usually doesn’t allow me many visitors.”

As I pour his tea, I notice a strange scent.  Malik goes to reach for the glass, but I hit it with the kettle, knocking it over.

“Oh, it’s alright,” Malik replies.

I move the tray, placing it aside, and taste the tea on my fingertips. Every hair on my body stands on end, and I rush from the room. Sopa stands as I lunge at her. I grab her by the neck and hit her head against the wall.

“Mo! What the hell are you doing?” Vasumat shouts at me.

“She’s been poisoning your father!” I roar.

Sopa strikes me, clawing my face and knocking me to the ground. She tries to escape, but Vasumat has her on the ground in a moment.

“Is this true?” Vasumat snarls. “Have you been poisoning my father?”

Sopa remains silent, struggling as Vasumat holds her. He takes her to the palace, where she is to be held until trial. I stay with Malik to fix him a meal and tea - probably his first untainted one in years.

“I’m so sorry, Malik,” I whisper to him. “Had I known what was going on sooner, you might be well again.”

“How could you know, Amora?” Malik pets the top of my head. “It is no one’s fault here.”

I hold his hand tenderly. “We at least know now, and we can get you on the mend.” I smile at him. “There is a bright side to all of this.”

“I just ask you take care of Vasumat,” Malik murmurs. “He will blame himself for this, I know he will.” He squeezes my hand. “You are the only one he listens to. Please. He will blame himself for my condition. I do not want him to fall because of this.”

“I’ll beat him if I have to, Malik.” I sit back, allowing him to eat slowly at his food.

Malik is asleep when Vasumat returns and he falls into my arms. “You saved his life! How can I ever repay you?”

“I never liked Sopa,” I grumble. “But you don’t need to repay me. I just want to see your father get better again.” I look up at him and smile. “I want you to be happy, okay?”

“How can I be? When this was happening in my home?” Vasumat covers his face. “How can I face him?”

“Hey!” I snap. “Don’t you dare, you giant ass! Don’t you dare!” I rip his hand away from his face. “If you blame yourself at all for this, I will tear you a new one and call you my bitch. Is that clear?”

He stares at me in shock, his eyes wide and jaw slack.

“You did everything you thought was best for him. You did everything right. You’re a good son.” I frown at him. “If you start blaming yourself, I’ll be so mad at you!”

Vasumat presses his forehead to mine. “I can take most things. But if you were to ever be mad at me, I’d probably be defeated.”

“Then take care of your father. See he gets well. Don’t beat yourself up about this.”

Vasumat kisses me. “Mo, I love you.”

These are words that have never been spoken between us, but words that had been hanging in the air all our lives. I avoided them, knowing that deep down, they were never words meant for us. I kiss Vasumat one last time, pulling myself away from him.

“Why’d you have to say that?” I shake my head. “I saved your father. You’re only feeling grateful right now.”

“No!” Vasumat scoffs. “I love you. I always have.” He takes my hands. “When we were little, while we grew, I always came back to you and always will. I love you, Amora.”

I pull my hands back. “You can do better!” I shout at him.

Vasumat’s expression goes blank. He stares at me. “No. I really can’t.”

“You should!” I blurt. There is a pain in my eyes as I start to cry. The tears burn, and my body aches as they fall. “You don’t want me.”

Vasumat puts his hands on my shoulders. “You’re my north star.”

I shake my head. “Don’t say that! You can have anyone! Why would you want me? The poisons have rotted my body! I’m not good to anyone!”

Vasumat wraps his arms around me. “You’re the best for me.”

I cling to him, sobbing into his chest.

Vasumat kisses the top of my head. “Be mine, Mo, and I will worship you.”