Will shoved yet another roll of wrapping paper to the side and peered underneath it for a list he was nearly almost hundred percent certain that he’d actually made and used today while shopping and now needed to consult and possibly revise.

“How many bows did you think you’d use?” he asked himself irritably under his breath, setting aside a bag of those he’d bought today. He’d add to the bin of them that he’d gotten years ago in an attempt to make gift wrapping easier. He was going to be like all the homemaking influencers and have a wrapping station, or so he’d thought at the time. He didn’t have a station. He had the temporary use of the kitchen table and space in one of the closets. And there was no point in setting aside wrapping supplies to save time and money if every year he saw some new cute wrapping paper patterns and brought them home.

A tape dispenser clattered to the floor, startling Natalie Wood, who skittered away from Will’s feet and went back to circling the food bowls.

“Sorry, Natty.” Will meant it, but he muttered that too, bending over to snatch up the tape and then resuming his exhausted search for the Christmas list. Beside the rolls of paper and the bin of bows and ribbon were some of the gifts for various Howard cousins and niblings and siblings and siblings-in-law that he’d purchased today. He needed to make sure he had what he wanted to get, and then see what else was still left, and he wanted to do it while shopping was fresh in his mind.

Then he had to wrap them all, tonight, if he could. It would make the following weeks slightly easier. Tomorrow, he’d agreed—months ago, without thinking—to pick up Alicia and take her to the city for some comics event at a shop, which meant getting up early and lots of waiting in line… and probably seeing something she liked and getting it for her for Christmas as sneakily as he could.

If it was expensive, he’d have to use the joint card, which he frowned thinking about. All his life, he’d thought he would enjoy being like Lorelei Lee and spending someone else’s money but it turned out that when it was a reminder of his failures, he didn’t care for it.

Not failures, he immediately repeated in his head, glancing guiltily across the kitchen. It wasn’t failure to finally settle down and get a chair in an actual salon, only to end up having to go back to traveling to work for private clients because of Covid. He wasn’t the only one it had fucked over and it had nothing to do with him succeeding or failing and he was lucky, very lucky, to be okay, both health-wise and financially. He knew that, like he knew that Charlie didn’t mind Will spending his money.

Charlie would, in fact, get cranky if Will called it that and not their money. And would not like Will calling himself a failure either, for having to rebuild his savings and his career this late in the game.

Charlie would be harder on himself than he would ever be on Will, and that included spankings. Then he’d say something about how he worried less about Will knowing that their finances were linked, or say that’s what he thought marriage meant, sharing highs and lows, and if his family had money, and Will was his family, then shouldn’t Will use it?

But Will couldn’t think about that now or he’d lose focus. He was going to complete the list, handle everything like he’d said he would, and then he wouldn’t feel weird about it and everyone would have a nice Christmas. So that. He had to summon the energy and just do it. Wrap presents. Finish the list, if he could. Get ready for bed. Get up to taxi Alicia around and listen to her talk about girls and boys with wonder and a little envy he hadn’t realized he’d ever have toward young people, but there it was anyway. Bring her back here to wait for her mom to pick her up. Get ready for a holiday party which Charlie was iffy on attending for various reasons, but if they didn’t go to that, then probably spend the evening on the phone or online dealing with the rest of the shopping, or wrapping anything he failed to wrap tonight.

Meanwhile, the tree in their living room had lights on it but no decorations, there were several school recitals and one dance performance they were supposed to go see in the next few days, as well as a few more parties—including the one for Charlie’s work which was officially-unofficially mandatory, and Will needed to do a few hair consults before a late December wedding.

Not that long ago, Will’s Decembers had mostly been a small bit of Christmas shopping, first just for his sister and few friends, then for Charlie too. Then Charlie’s sisters, then everyone, even though Charlie kept insisting they could do joint gifts or that he could handle it. Of course Charlie could handle it; he’d been handling it for years before he ever met Will—and frankly for most of the years afterward. That was the point. Will was going to help him, the big, charming dope. If Charlie could insist that marriage meant sharing everything, then it meant sharing everything… even if Will was so tired.

His one Christmas tradition, born out of retail jobs with long December hours and having no family but his sister, was to find whatever channel was playing his favorite Christmas black-and-white classics, and watch them while enjoying a glass or two of champs.

Now, of course, too much champagne was out of the question because of his acid reflux and he had no time to watch anything.

He sighed for the memory of peace and quiet and Barbara Stanwyck, and also his twenties and the ability to eat and drink whatever he wanted, then dropped his head down onto his hands on the table to glare at the reindeer on the roll of wrapping paper closest to him.

In the kitchen, connected to the dining room of the larger apartment they’d happened to have moved into right before lockdown, Charlie was loading the dishwasher, pausing to handwash a few things as well and to check the time on whatever was in the oven.

Charlie had worked all day and probably fielded calls from his family and still had emails to answer or papers to grade, but he’d made dinner anyway. It was for the best; Will couldn’t cook even if he tried. And he’d been busy anyway, out shopping for the family.

Their family, Charlie would say. Like their money. And that Will shouldn’t still think he needed to be perfect and do everything for them—the big hypocrite—and how honestly, he’d been going to get the teens gift cards and Will should do the same.

He was probably right. That’s what teenage Will would have wanted from older relatives instead of bath sets or Christmas socks.

Actually, a nice bath set would be good, for him and for Charlie. He should write that down.

Where the fuck was that list anyway? He had a whole Charlie??? section that needed to be added to. He’d snuck a peek at Charlie’s To Be Read list for some book titles, and considered some fancy cookware that Charlie would probably just buy for himself if Will didn’t. Maybe Will should get Charlie a gift card too, or do one of those TikTok-esque shopping sprees in a Barnes & Noble.

Which would still be spending Charlie’s money, really. Their money, but really Charlie’s. Will was still saving up what he’d lost in the past few years, so using his own would mean Charlie wouldn’t be able to get many books—shockingly expensive things, history books.

Charlie wouldn’t care if Will spent his—their money—or spent his own and got him a cheap bath set, that was the worst part. He was always stupidly surprised to get any meaningful presents, so the amount wouldn’t matter. But Will cared. He wanted to get Charlie something he valued in with all the other stuff.

Nat returned to circle his feet, her soft meows mixed with the quiet thumping that meant Hulking had joined her. Hulking, adopted in Sam’s memory, was a stray who’d had a leg amputated and only entered the kitchen and dining area with its smoother, harder for him to navigate, floors when he was starving. Or cat-starving, anyway.

Alicia had named him. Will got up to feed them and then washed wet food off his hands before dragging himself back over the table to continue his work. He heard the momentary silence that meant Charlie had stopped, probably to watch Will go by, and belatedly looked over once he was no longer on his feet.

“God damn it, Charlie,” Will exclaimed softly without meaning to.

His nearly fifty-year-old hot piece of a husband was in sweatpants, socks, and a soft sleep shirt with the sleeves rolled up to keep them out of the dishwater. He was wearing an apron, the one that said “Silver Fox” which Will had gotten him two birthdays ago, because he was. He had more silver in his hair than dark brown, which was bad enough, but he was actually fitter than he had been because once he’d finally gotten his hip surgery, he’d been ordered to work out to help keep his balance and his strength up and he took that seriously.

He took everything seriously. 

He was currently handwashing Will’s reusable water bottle, the one with the sticker of the French poster for Bringing Up Baby on it—L’impossible Monsieur Bébé—because he was obsessed with keeping bacteria out of it and because tomorrow morning when Will was running around, he was going to want that bottle with him. It was just like Charlie to do this to Will when Will was tired, grumpy, and frustrated.

Charlie looked over, then opened his mouth.

“Don’t.” Will cut him off before he could ask if Will had eaten.

Charlie didn’t look hurt, not exactly, but did take a second before he turned around again, because he was. And now Will was a dick… who yes, had not eaten.

“You should have let me make dinner,” he said anyway. “Or I could have brought some home.” Though even McDonalds would have strained Will’s budget these days, and probably also make him sick. Anyway, Charlie would have thought it wasn’t healthy, which it wasn’t, and made Will take vitamins or something.

Which should have made Will feel like a child but he of course was trained in the ways of Charlie and loved it.

Charlie left the water bottle to dry on a towel by the sink and then said in a mild voice, “I’m going to make some tea. Would you like some?”

There was a lot of hidden worry beneath that careful offer. Will gave up looking for the list in his mess of presents and paper and slumped down in his seat to watch Charlie be competent. “Why do you like me so much?” he wondered quietly, not whining but close.

They both startled at the same time as the words sank in. “No, nope,” Will denied it all immediately. “Never mind. That was exhaustion talking. Don’t worry about it.”

Charlie put down the kettle he’d only just filled. He walked over to the fridge, reached on top of it for a red tin that Will didn’t remember seeing before, then brought it over to the table. He sat down with a loud, old-man noise of relief to be off his feet, then popped the lid on the tin and held it out for Will to look inside.

“Fudge?” Will guessed excitedly, already taking a piece.

Charlie nodded. “And chocolate rum balls. Teddy, the new office guy, apparently de-stresses with baking and confectionary, and goes overboard for Christmas. As people tend to do.”

He gave Will a look. Will gave him a look back.

“That remark feels pointed,” Will finally said, only a little bit snippy because fudge. “I have to get gifts for your family.”

“Which I told you, you didn’t have to do.” Charlie was noticeably not eating any of the candy.  

Will took a rum ball and handed it to Charlie before taking one for himself. “I want them to be happy. I want you to be happy…. Fuck. These are incredibly good. Do we need to get him something in return?”

Charlie hummed a little around a sinful bite of chocolate and rum. “A bottle of wine should do it. I’ll take something from the house if I have no time to go to the store. All that red you can’t drink anymore just sitting there.”

“Stupid aging,” Will sighed it. “Stupid acid reflux. Years of champagne and terrible meals catching up with me.”

“Pretty sure some of it is also genetic.” Charlie shook the tin to urge Will to take more. “You didn’t eat this afternoon.” He was not guessing. “Just seasonal lattes and whatever you had for lunch?”

“The seasonal latte was my lunch,” Will grumbled. “Skim milk even. We can’t all age like you.”

Charlie put the tin to the side and folded his hands in front of him. The Silver Fox on his apron taunting Will. “What can I do to help you?”

“Charlie,” Will whined at him, his irritation forgotten, “you have enough to do.”

“I’d rather see you enjoying yourself.” Charlie accepted the whining but did arch an eyebrow. “You usually do, this time of year.” There was a hint of a question there.

Will floundered a little. “I’m just… going through some stuff, and it’s the worst time of year to do that. Taking stock before Christmas is dumb. It’s nothing. I’ll get over it.”

Charlie took a rum ball all on his own, so Will went for more fudge. “You know,” Charlie began slowly, after savoring his chocolate, “you don’t have to get me anything.” He ignored Will’s gasp of outrage that Will made very dramatic even though he had just had this thought about Charlie moments before. “Truly.” He looked Will in the eye with a serious, dark stare that would have made lesser men whimper. “I’m happy as I am.”  

“You’re dreadful,” Will returned immediately, but didn’t give Charlie a chance to be hurt. “Just absolutely… I ought to make you something handmade, and heartfelt, and ugly, and force you to display it in the house…. Except you would.” He really would. He did it for his sisters and niblings all the time. Will sighed, perhaps also dramatically. “I’m just tired. And hungry—shush, you—and poor—and I know what you’re going to say and shush for that too. Then you go and wash my water bottle for me. I want to do something like that for you.” Will gestured at the air, then reached for more chocolate. “But also bigger and grander because you should have that. You can deny it all you like, but you supported me for two years. Maybe it’s natural for you but I still want to just… fuck, make things easier for you, at minimum. Then get you something really nice.”

A gorgeous frown of confusion came and went on Charlie’s face. “What would you like to do for me?” He was almost tentative, which he really shouldn’t be.

“If I knew that, I’d do it,” Will answered, huffy. He leaned forward a second later. “You know what? I’d like to let you rest. To not have you picking up after me and taking care of me—” the alarm on Charlie’s face was touching— “just for the one day,” Will assured him. “A few hours, even. To not be a mess or stressed, and… all that. But it’s December so… the month of stress.”

Charlie took another rum ball. This conversation had puzzled him or he wouldn’t be reaching for the booze in candy form. He ate it silently, frowning into space at first and then at the reindeer-pattern wrapping paper before looking up again.

“Wrinkles,” Will gently reminded him out of habit.

Charlie gave a nod, not of agreement. More decisive. “What are you doing tonight? Wrapping?” He waved over the table.  

“I have to if I want this all out of the way before the last things arrive… and still have some to ship off, and tomorrow I’m out most of the day and…” Will groaned.

“Or.” Charlie stopped Will’s moaning with a word. “Or… we make Alicia help tomorrow. Wrapping presents for the family is a grownup activity. It will make her feel more adult but also, having big Christmases like this takes work and everyone needs to learn how to contribute sooner or later. And then you give me your list, and we just do gift cards for the teens like I suggested… and maybe a few of the adults. And they can be understanding—they will be understanding,” Charlie added, in that voice that said he meant it and the family would listen. “And how about… tonight, we eat dinner and then do nothing?”

Shocking. Scandalous. Outrageous.

Will sat straight up. “I will probably fall asleep if I do that.” But he wanted.

The softest smile of relief crossed Charlie’s face. “That’s all right with me. You know that.”

“A night on the couch with the half-done Christmas tree and maybe a movie before we’re snoring?” Will was so middle-aged adjacent because that sounded amazing.

“Could you give me that, Will? As your present?” Charlie was so delicate and fine. “You haven’t watched your December movies yet either.”

Of course he’d noticed.

“Charlie.” It was probably the lack of food or the chocolate and sugar but if Will had known what he was in for, he would have dropped that flowerpot to get Charlie’s attention sooner. “It took me years to find these movies on DVD and now once I own them, they’re streaming everywhere? So rude,” he complained instead of saying any of that. “Bell, Book, and Candle could be considered a Christmas movie and I’ve been debating adding it to my usual watch. It begins and ends with Christmas anyway.” He had rambled about that for years now and Charlie had definitely heard it before and was probably very bored. But he regarded Will with that soft look lingering in his eyes. “You know this isn’t going to count, right?” Will surrendered. Will always surrendered to Charlie and was happy to do it. “I still want you to have nice things to open the morning of.”

The oven timer beeped. Charlie sighed and pushed himself up, leaving Will unattended with the chocolate because of course Charlie wouldn’t mind if Will had a million love handles as long as Will was okay and content.

Dreadful, for him to be like that. Will would do whatever he wanted, but all he wanted was this. A quiet night with Will.

Tired or not, Will leapt out his chair, startling poor Hulking as he rushed over to grab Charlie and hold him tight.

The oven beeped again.

“Fuck off,” Will said into the Silver Fox.  

Charlie exhaled the smallest laugh and gently disengaged from Will’s hold to go to the oven and take out whatever he’d put in there—sweet potatoes and chicken or something—and then, after taking his oven mitts off, came right back to Will.

That was much nicer. A much better end to the day than Will had been anticipating. Except maybe it could get a tiny bit nicer. He peeked up. “Need me to do anything else, Charlie, sir?”

“Ah.” Charlie sighed it—very pleased, Will could tell, because he used the voice when he spoke next. “Get out plates and silverware and whatever you want to drink with dinner. Make enough room on the table for that, but you don’t need to clean off the whole thing. Eat real food, and then you have as many rum balls as you like… that won’t affect you tomorrow morning.” Will didn’t think he could get drunk off candy but nodded anyway because he enjoyed being good for Charlie when he wasn’t being bad for Charlie. Charlie wiped something, probably chocolate, from Will’s mouth. “I bought more Tums today when I went to pick up my prescription, including a small travel-sized one for your workbag, since December is the month of tempting foods.”

Will considered that he ought to complain, again, and wonder how he was ever going to show love the way Charlie did, but did his best anyway. “Is that all, sir?”

Charlie hummed thoughtfully, petting Will’s mouth now, with no agenda except that he liked to do it. “There is something you’re supposed to say when you feel like this, isn’t there.”

He was not asking.

Nadir paced back and forth in front of the small garden in the center of the embassy’s first floor, and then, to mix it up, went to the kitchen before coming back to his small, well-worn path. The kitchen light was on, but Nadir was mostly using the dim purple glow from the skylight above the garden to navigate. Not that there was much to navigate. He’d walked this path for a while now, night after night, and knew it well. And anyway, Lin, currently the ranking officer with Trenne more or less on leave, wouldn’t have allowed anyway to leave any gear lying around to get in the way of a quick exit.

They were supposedly safe now, but Lin clearly didn’t think so and Nadir didn’t either—though he was perhaps biased. A doc would have something to say about it, certainly, but if the doc wasn’t on this fucking planet, then the doc’s opinion didn’t matter as much as Lin’s did. Paranoia wasn’t wrong all the time.  

Nadir passed the plants Rodian was so fond of, then shuffled around to make another pass. Back and forth. Again and again. For miles, maybe. Each pass had to add up. He should tell Nev so Nev could stop trying to pressure him into physical therapy exercises, but telling Nev meant mentioning this, and Nev would have questions. Angry ones.

Nadir had been in that Pre-C bed long enough that he should never need to sleep again but that wasn’t why he was up now, or why he’d been up last night or the night before. He wasn’t a complete idiot. He knew that, and that what was in his head was bad, because he’d gone through something like this before. That was how he also knew that this was worse. This time would be worse. This was ugly and waiting for it to get uglier was only making him more restless.

Restless wasn’t even the right word. Mouth—Taji—would know the right word, but he was upstairs for the foreseeable future in shehzha la-la land getting fucked and treasured and who knew what else, and nobody was supposed to bother him because it was sacred and all that.

A good deal. And Mouth had been through it and deserved the rest. And the dicking. So did Trenne when it came to it. Lin and Trenne stayed promoted. Nadir was probably going to get a patch he wouldn’t wear until Lin forcibly sewed it onto his nicer blacks, and also maybe, maybe, the smallest bump in pay. Everybody got what they deserved.

They didn’t though, did they? “They don’t say his name anymore” Emperor Fuckface was dead, his feet apparently cut off and displayed somewhere while Nadir had been sleeping. But nothing else was different. Same guards around him. Same people in charge, and IPTC considered the matter closed unless Nadir would like to schedule mental health talks with a doctor the next time he was anywhere close to any such doctor, which would likely be years from now unless Nev got tired of giving him worried looks and declared him unfit.

That was maybe as close as Nadir would get to a vacation. He should take it, if that happened.

Or take care of himself now, and down whatever pills Nev had left for him and maybe actually sleep.

He didn’t want to, didn’t want idle thoughts. Didn’t want dreams. Didn’t want to wake up alone and in pain.

That was a stupid thought. Mouth was in pain all the time and he didn’t bitch nearly as much.

Mouth didn’t wake up alone anymore, though. He might have, in his time in that place. Lin and Trenne’s reports were there, waiting for Nadir to read them and write his own. Taji’s, of course, would have to wait until he was in his right mind again, however long that would be. But he might have spent several nights in that place, just down the hall from Nadir, from what Nev had told him. Close enough to hear Nadir and…. Close enough to hear, but unable to do anything about it.

Once the shehzha business was over—or as much as it was ever over with however that stuff worked, Taji was going to have to deal with whatever happened to him, the same as Nadir was. Even when he got a break, that’s all it was, a break. Then right back to the shit mines.

Nadir’s legs wobbled, and since his cane was in the kitchen, he sagged against the wall for a moment of rest. His breathing was so loud he nearly didn’t hear the quiet hum of the lift, but he caught it in time to straighten from the wall, although he couldn’t do anything for his pallor or the sweat in his loose clothes or whatever was going on with his hair.

He tried to sneak off in the direction of the kitchen but he was too slow.

“Nadir? Oh.” Mouth said both words in nearly the same breath.

“Apologies.” Trenne broke into the silence as Nadir reluctantly turned to face them. “Do you require help?”

“You ought to be telling me to stay away from your shehzha.” Nadir was joking but was also serious because Dead Fuckface Larin and the others had broken that rule and someone ought to remember that.

Then he got a good look at the two of them and understood that rule a little bit more.

Taji was… Taji was wearing less than Nadir in his athletic shirt and loose pants, and what he was wearing was probably due to Trenne. Taji had an oversized robe… or maybe part of a soria, open to reveal no shirt, and sleep pants hanging off his hips. But maybe that was due to some weight loss, unless Nadir was imagining it.

Trenne was in sleep pants and only sleep pants, his hair down and free, his feet bare. Nadir automatically looked away from both of them together, but didn’t let his gaze fall to the floor again either.

He had kept his gaze down, then, so no one would see his face, and there had been countless bare feet in that room.

“Nadir,” Trenne said, even and calm like he always was although he could probably hear Nadir panicking. “Taji is tired. Will you sit with him while I get food for him?”

Taji did look tired. He was also staring at Trenne as if he could ride him right there under the skylight, whether or not Nadir was there.

Which might have been a good show, if Nadir had been in the mood.

“I’m just heading to bed,” Nadir lied. He was still sacked out on the first floor, in their makeshift med bay.

Taji’s dreamy gaze left Trenne. He looked at Nadir and frowned. “You should be sleeping. Nev said you don’t sleep much the last time I… when I last talked to Nev.” He probably couldn’t recall when that was.  

Nadir was surprised he’d spoken to anyone. “And you should be upstairs,” he reminded Taji lightly, “doing things Shavians don’t mention in public, but here you are.”

“Hungry,” Taji admitted, with a fleeting expression of surprise. “I’m actually hungry,” he told Trenne, who did not seem surprised, so Taji must have said it before and forgotten. Taji turned back to Nadir. “Which is either a sign I really need to eat or maybe that the longing has faded a little.”

It would have seemed wistful but then he watched Trenne head to the kitchen and ran his gaze over Trenne’s body, and Nadir suspected that hunger had just temporarily won out over his body’s other needs. He probably didn’t realize he was making grabby hands.

“I can be out,” Taji said, slowly continuing the conversation. “Trenne isn’t like….” Taji shook his head. “It’s less embarrassing at night. When it’s just whoever is on duty in the comms room and whoever else might be up. It’s, you know… I don’t feel shame the way the Sha do over it, but it is embarrassing.”

Nadir was too tired to manage a kind smile but he did at least nod. “Well don’t let me keep you. Go let the sergeant major feed you and then you can get back to it.” He winked. That, he could do.

Taji stared at him, then moved on wobbly legs to the small center garden. He plopped down onto the short stone wall around it. “I think he’s going to bring something for you too.”

“Not a shehzha,” Nadir said immediately, loudly, for some reason. “Not his shehzha.”

For a second, the old Mouth there with him, studying Nadir with too much interest. Then he was gone and Taji was sighing dreamily. “I’m his shehzha.”

“Good for you.” It came out a bit sour but Nadir was tired and Taji probably didn’t notice anyway. Nadir waved it off just in case. “I mean that. Good for you. You should get to have that, all the things they say it is. And, Trenne’s a great fuck.” Nadir winced, then glanced down to Taji’s still, pretty face. Nadir was clearly exhausted beyond reason because, all joking aside, he wouldn’t have volunteered that otherwise. Not to their bright-eyed Mouth. “You know how it is,” he added quickly and dismissively, “lonely, bored, sometimes off-duty and drunk. You give a friend a hand. Et cetera.”

Taji gave a slow nod. “And very few on this planet would touch him.”

Nadir raised his head, although even his neck was achy and sore now. Like holding his head up all day had taken effort. “But now he has you.” That was kind. Good. Someone should have some. 

He expected more dreamy shehzha talk but he got silence. Which… ah fuck, meant the Mouth was thinking. He wasn’t supposed to be able to think right now.

The starry eyes landed on him. “Has Talfa Emperor been here since the last time I saw them?”

“Fuck.” Nadir walked back and forth and didn’t care if Taji saw. Whatever Ameyo was implying was a mistake on his part. Shehzha brain imagining things. “People say all kinds of shit in desperate situations, Mouth. It’s fine. I’ll go see Nev. Nev’ll give me something, I’ll sleep like a baby. Which is a weird expression because so many babies do not sleep. Shit, now I’m talking like you.”

“Has IPTC said anything to you?” Taji remained on his stone seat, gazing at Nadir with soft interest.

Nadir was tired. He used his own wobbly legs to get the garden and fell into a space not far from Taji. He was shaking. He’d probably been shaking.

“It’s harder to recover if you don’t rest.” Taji at least looked away to say it, gazing at the violet light above. He really was pretty. If Trenne hadn’t been all over him from day one, Nadir would have considered it. Probably made a fool of himself there too, as usual.

Taji carried on. “If you don’t like the meds, you should… well, what I used to do to help me sleep was….”

What nearly everyone did to try to sleep.

Nadir cut him off. “You can get Trenne to do that for you if you want. I’m sure he’s listening anyway.”

Taji faced him again. “No friend here to lend you a hand now?”

Nadir was not going to think about how there really wasn’t.

He grinned. “Try to resist having me for yourself. I know shehzha are greedy and sex-starved, but you’ll have to make do without me.” He didn’t check to see if Taji was amused or frowning. “Anyway, you’ll probably start a trend. Maybe all the Sha will start cruising for human lovers.” It had certainly looked that way when they’d come back from their hunt and several of them had been eyeing Taji—and Trenne for that matter—like the hunt wasn’t over. “Maybe some noble Sha will want to keep me as a status symbol.”

Except he’d never know which ones had been there to witness….

He shuddered and couldn’t hide it.

Taji took his hand.

Nadir sucked in a breath, genuinely shocked. “You aren’t supposed to—”

“Trenne doesn’t mind. Not like that.” Taji looked across the space, and oh, there was Trenne, holding a tray loaded with food in one hand, and a steaming cup in the other. He stared at Taji, and then at their hands, and then at Nadir. His ears flickered. “Humans bond through touch. It is that sort of hand you need?”

Aw fuck. Nadir turned his face away from the both of them. He hadn’t even pulled his hand away. “You two should really get back upstairs,” he said in a horrible voice, choking and sad. “You get a vacation, you take the vacation. Anyway, I know you showered but you reek of sex, and that’s just mean to someone in my current state.”  

Trenne stopped in front of him.

“Hold this,” he directed, putting the cup in front of Nadir’s face. As though that was an order, Nadir took it. Then, with only a small pause, a large, Shavian hand landed gently on the back of his neck.  

The cup was very warm and smelled of tea. Lin’s tea. She was going to be furious.

Taji curled his fingers to keep Nadir’s hand beneath his. Nadir’s throat was so tight he could barely swallow.

“Really,” he finally managed, too quiet. He had no idea how much time had passed and those two were probably eye fucking by now. He took a breath. “Go on up, and don’t worry…” when was the last time anyone had really worried about him?

That cellar… basement… dungeon from hell came to mind.

“…Don’t worry about me,” he finished. “I’m going to go to bed. Maybe not to sleep, but I’ll go.” He gestured with the cup of tea without quite meeting Trenne’s eyes. “Thank you.”

He pulled his hand away from Taji’s and then stood up.

He expected them to hurry back to the lift and their midnight meal and fucking and cuddling and all that good stuff, but had a feeling they both stayed to watch him shuffle away. They were probably being polite in the few moments of clarity before Taji started in with the begging, but it was nice of them. Friendly. Kind.

Taji flung his arms and legs outward on the soft sheets of his big bed and stretched, trying and failing to remember that though he currently felt no pain, his prosthetic issues were still there. The bedding was freshly changed. Taji had no real thoughts to spare for whoever had been collecting their laundry except to wish them well and maybe thank them some day whenever he left this room again.

He frowned fleetingly at the idea of moving from this room, from this bed, and rolled over to press his shoulders against sweet-smelling pillows and spread his legs in sensual delight. His skin was scrubbed and clean, oil massaged in by Trenne himself, gently urging Taji this way and that, finally allowing Taji to lick at his pussy and suck his cock in exchange for Taji’s stillness while he made sure all of Taji’s skin was moisturized and soft.

Then he’d placed Taji on the bed to rest so he could quickly clean himself before returning to the bedroom. He put a protein bar in Taji’s hand. Taji meant to glare at him for it, but he looked up and was immediately distracted by Trenne’s lovely, delicate eyes. So big and so deadly when he needed to be, but so delicate.

“Eat, peha.” Trenne said that because he was clever and wonderful and knew it would make Taji eat, at least a little.

“Trenne,” Taji sighed back at him, but took a horrible, dry, crunchy bite of something that wasn’t his eshe. The crunchy ones were his favorite, Trenne would say if Taji complained. His ears would dip down. He would worry. Taji took another bite and even chewed and swallowed it, but only to please him. “Why are you so pretty?” he complained, disliking the sensation of crumbs on their bed and turning to sweep them away.

He turned back in time to catch Trenne’s ears twitching the way they always did when Taji paid him compliments. “So strong,” Taji went on breathlessly, not teasing although he’d meant to. “With markings I want to kiss. Will you let me kiss them next, eshe? Ah twitch twitch go your ears now. You’re lovely. Trenne,” Taji caught himself whining and at least cut that much off. He dutifully crunched away at the awful food Trenne wanted him to eat and hummed when Trenne’s eyes would meet his.

Trenne stood at the end of the bed, too far away, checking his DD for news and updates from the others. That was important. Taji tried to remember that.

“So smart,” he sighed this as well. “Clever and brave. They’re counting on you even now. You must be tired. Are you tired, Trenne? Come here and rest with me.”

“Water now,” Trenne said, not asking and also not climbing on the bed with Taji to rest or anything. He took the wrapper of the protein bar away and replaced it with a cup, and stood there, ears forward and attentive, while Taji frowned but drank the water.

Trenne stepped away seconds later, dealing with the wrapper and cup.

“I’m such a bother,” Taji realized, vaguely certain he’d realized this before and suddenly, impossibly tired. His bones were heavy. He could barely follow Trenne’s path around the room. “So much work for you when you’re already tired. I’m sorry.”

Trenne’s ears went to the side and then flattened. He looked at Taji directly, then came closer to the bed to cup Taji’s jaw. “It is my honor.” He brushed a tingling, sensitive space beneath Taji’s ear and then did the same to Taji’s mouth. “And it is pleasant work.”

Taji was basking in warmth and lighter than air. He smiled.

Trenne’s ears came back up. “Rest, peha. I will not leave.”

Rest did not sound fun with him close enough, naked from his shower and still damp while touching Taji. But he picked up the DD and began to skim the information again, petting Taji as he did. Taji pressed into his roughly, textured palm and let his eyes close. He had to be patient. The information was important. Trenne was eshe but they did not have soldiers to spare. He still had to be sharp.

Trenne could be patient. Remarkably so. He was Sha and not human and could come many times without ejaculating. He did that for Taji when the longing was too much, and in the meantime, answered Taji’s begging by letting Taji use him like a toy, stimulating him on his cock until Taji was a pitiful, shivering wreck and only then giving him a taste.

Sometimes, in odd moments when Taji was suddenly aware again, he worried over Trenne putting in all this work to please him while also still working to protect everyone else. He thought of that now and didn’t whine or plead or beckon Trenne to the bed. But he opened his eyes to watch him and the tiny movements of his ears as he absorbed whatever the others had to tell him.

It was good that he wasn’t distracted like Taji was. If Taji had been Shavian too, Trenne would have to fight the longing. But he had probably wanted that, when he’d dreamed of this in his youth. Now he’d never know it because Taji couldn’t give him that.

He exhaled mournfully.

“So soon?” Trenne looked down to ask, a question that didn’t quite make sense.

Taji gazed up to his still face and concerned ears. “You’re so good. My eshe.” He shivered a little and pressed his face hard into Trenne’s palm until Trenne began to lightly touch him again. “I’m more work. I can’t give you the longing. Not much of a…”

“Taji.” Trenne stopped him with a voice so firm that a hot pang went through Taji’s chest. Trenne stared down at him with the Sha version of wonder. “I believe myself fortunate that you cannot. They would judge me and they would be harsh if I gave in, even in the smallest ways. You as you are, Taji shehzha. A star for my own.”

Taji slid forward to put his face against Trenne’s thigh. “All of that and I…. I worried. In Laviias. If something happened to you and the longing would be as painful as they insisted it was. I didn’t know it then, so I believed…. I told—I told them I could live without you if I had to. That’s not very…”

“My wise shehzha.” Trenne stopped him again, one hand curved to Taji’s nape. “Clever Taji Ameyo. I would have you survive. Is that… not the answer I should give?”

His uncertainty cut through some of the warmth in Taji’s mind. He tipped his head back.

Trenne studied him with the quiet that spoke of worry. “Is it not what you want your eshe to want? I would have you survive.”

“Even if it meant another touching me?” Taji shook his head as he asked it. “I wouldn’t want it. If that had happened,” he kissed Trenne’s skin and curled his hand behind one knee, “I would imagine you,” he promised. He licked his lips and had to kiss Trenne again, shivering as he made his way up Trenne’s thigh.  He shifted to get closer, pulling Trenne toward his greedy, hungry, shehzha mouth. “I’d want this.” He used his fingers to part flesh and then his tongue to taste it before shifting to rise up higher. “Want you.” He found Trenne’s cock and sucked hard on one of the bumps that felt so good inside him. Trenne’s cock was just for him. He didn’t want some phantom eshe. “Only you.” He found a new spot to suck, but it still didn’t give him what he wanted. What he needed, hot and nutty-sweet in his mouth. “Please. Please Trenne.”

“Take what you please, peha,” he was told softly, Trenne’s palm sweeping over his shoulders and then down to help draw Taji up onto his knees. The DD was in his other hand. He needed to work and Taji should care about that and not only filling his mouth and getting Trenne to spill so much it fell to his cheek and then his chest and Taji would have to lick it from his fingers to be satisfied that he’d gotten it all.

“Trenne.” He dipped his head to find other secretions and slid his knees apart. No pain, just an open body meant to receive.

He glanced up.

Trenne took a deep breath, the one that meant he was fighting to focus. Taji kept his eyes open while lapping up what he could for now and then returned to Trenne’s cock.

“My shehzha, not yet,” Trenne told him, firm and strong and clever, the DD falling to the bed before his hands were on Taji to position him how they wanted. Taji was slick from before and open enough it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but Trenne pushing him down, pushing inside him slowly to give him so much that he whined and bit his lip and swallowed what little taste he’d had so far.

No one else would compare. Taji shifted back and dropped his head to moan open-mouthed for more. “Only Trenne,” he managed, a thrum in his blood, “only you.”

The Wren was one of the nicer inns on the way to the city that had sprung up around the largest palace of the Durii. Jaks preferred it to others when he was traveling to and from the unofficial—but official—capital of the Three Kingdoms. It was cleaner, for one thing, but also had a nice, big public room full of other travelers who were often inclined to Jaks’ notions about shared beds for a night or two and then going back on their way.

The public room also had a strictly enforced rule about no weaponry that meant travelers like Jaks could relax without worrying over fighting or tensions between nobles and their betters, or haughty runi upset over the different “perverse” ways here, or wizarding students raising a ruckus.

The students of magic didn’t need weapons, of course, but a wizard attacking someone unarmed? They’d be kicked out of their school once word got out. The Queen and Rabil, her wizard, didn’t tolerate that kind of thing.

So, after a week’s worth of walking and a quick bath in the bathing room, Jaks was more than ready to settle down with a meal and an ale and maybe find a companion for the night if he was lucky, although food and ale were far higher up on his current list of needs.

At least, until he saw the broad figure in wizard’s robes still dusty from travel, seated alone at a table in one corner. The wizard was duad, and very likely tall, judging from the size of him, with sleek dark hair worn high on his head and a growth of beard that was probably a result of travel more than his usual style, unless he was only just beginning to grow it in. His eyes appeared dark as well, and his hands large, and Jaks wouldn’t mind those hands pressing him down into a mattress, no he would not.

Unlike many of the other visitors to the inn, the wizard sat back with easy confidence. Used to some travel, then, and more than likely able to take care of himself if things grew tense.

Jaks scarcely had the thought before the wizard turned to reach into a bag at his side. He pulled out a scrap of paper and a book—and the book opened itself a moment before a candle in the iron chandelier which must have gone out burst back to life.

That kind of absentminded power made Jaks pause, his heart beating faster. But then he thought of that power might be like when applied elsewhere and moved toward the charming wizard without stopping to order himself some food.

“Have you visited the Wren before?” Jaks asked even before stopping, even before the wizard had looked up, and then winced to himself at what a horrible opening that was.

But the wizard turned to him and looked up, eyes dark as Jaks had predicted and rather lovely. He was very focused, the wizard. The intensity of his look didn’t fade when Jaks smiled.

“I’m here fairly often and I’ve never seen you before,” he added in case the wizard was angry or annoyed. It wouldn’t do to annoy a wizard.

“I’ve never stopped here,” the wizard answered after a pause. “Usually we travel straight through to my—to the palace with everyone else.”

“A royal wizard?” Jaks asked with genuine interest, taking the opportunity to slide into the chair next to the handsome stranger.

The wizard gave a start, then glanced down over himself before shaking his head. “Ah. Of a sort. But this time, there’s no larger group, and I wanted a hot meal.”

“Fine food here,” Jaks agreed. “It’s one of the reasons I choose the Wren.”

“What are the others?” the wizard wondered immediately, blinking in surprise when Jaks inched forward.

Their eyes met. The wizard’s really were lovely. But then within a moment, they were directed away from Jaks toward the counter at the other end of the public room where… well, Jaks understood the distraction.

The figure at the counter was small but noticeable. From the bits of livery visible, he had to be a guard, and probably a palace guard considering where they were. But he wasn’t dressed like the rest of the guards Jaks had seen. He wore a jerkin and undershirt, but the undershirt had no sleeves, leaving muscular arms bare for all to see, the skin decorated with some scars as well as bright lines of ink. A runi then, judging from the tattoos and their size. Jaks hadn’t known they let runis become guards of high rank, so this one must be fierce indeed.

Fierce and pretty, Jaks could admit. Almost startlingly pretty with short, shorn hair that only made the wide eyes and full lips more obvious. The runi filled out his tight leathers well too. He had no visible weapons, not in the Wren, but Jaks was willing to bet he still had some on him. It was in the way the man moved, following the barkeep to a different side of the counter as though someone near them had been loud. The runi guard slinked, for lack of a better word. Jaks half-expected to see a tail behind him, like one of the Durii’s cats.

“You do, don’t you,” agreed the wizard, as if Jaks had said part of that out loud. He turned to Jaks with a friendly smile.

“He’s pretty,” Jaks said next, to find out how the wizard felt about men, but also with some disappointment because Jaks did all right, but he wasn’t anything like that runi guard, if that was the wizard’s taste.

The book closed gently as the wizard turned to give Jaks a closer study. Perhaps Jaks had offended him.

“Though not as pretty as you,” Jaks added quickly, in case. “But I have to say, you’re pretty in an entirely different way.”

“Pretty?” the wizard echoed, sounding as if he’d never heard the word before. “I’m not… how am I pretty?”  

He seemed a bit too sincere for it to be flirtation, but whether it was a game or not, Jaks was willing to play along.

He made himself sound thoughtful but kept his tone light. “He looks like danger. You look like trouble. But I always did like a bit of trouble.” He smiled again.

It earned him another startled pause, and then a puzzled, but charming, frown. “I’m not trouble.”

“Oh yes you are.”

The interruption made them both turn.

The runi guard stood on the opposite side of the small table, not quite looming because he was too small for that, but watching in a way that was as near to looming as he could probably get. His words were teasing. His expression was blank.

He had a mug, probably full of ale, in one hand, and his other hand at his side, where, Jaks somehow knew, a weapon usually hung from his belt. Jaks felt he was being deliberately reminded of this.

But without sparing a glance for Jaks, the guard addressed the wizard. “They don’t serve your tea in here.” At this, the wizard gave a suffering kind of sigh which only made the guard continue calmly as if he’d expected that. “You’ll have to make do with a pot of what everyone else drinks.”

The wizard grumbled something about how he wasn’t spoiled just for liking certain kinds of tea more than others.

The guard ignored that like the sigh, and turned to Jaks. “I’m not sure what your friend wanted.” The words were cool. His eyes were not.

Jaks had seen eyes like that before. In processions toward the palace or on their way elsewhere, some royal or noble visitors would show up with their guards in tow, and some of those guards walked alongside the big, red and gold cats of the Durii. Firecats.

They’d looked right at you sometimes, as though considering whether or not you should be lunch. The cats, that was. But Jaks supposed the guards did too.

He almost flinched as he looked to see if one of those cats had followed this guard inside, but of course, not even a royal guard would do that. No weapons meant no firecats either. A firecat would probably dwarf this runi not that it mattered. That hot stare said clearly enough that the runi didn’t need a firecat to hurt Jaks if he wanted to.

“He’s not an assassin, River,” the wizard remarked, giving Jaks a reason to look away.

“Oh, I know,” River answered easily, then sat down with effortless grace. He didn’t take his gaze from Jaks. “That’s why I didn’t stab him.” Jaks jumped in his seat. River put the mug down with a tiny smile. “Wouldn’t Faddal be pleased at my progress?”

“He wouldn’t stab you.” The wizard faced Jaks, apparently trying to reassure him. “He doesn’t know that you think he’s pretty.”

“Pretty,” River scoffed. “He didn’t sit here to tell me I’m pretty, Gav.”

But he glanced away from Jaks to exchange a look with the other one, his Gav, his expression sort of knowing and pointed, like Jaks had stepped into an old argument between them.

“But he didn’t…” Gav replied at last, only to trail off. “I’m so sorry,” he said to Jaks, who stared blankly back at him. “We’re only just returning from our first assignment away from my m—from the palace, and I’m still not used to people approaching me.”

“Been hiding in castles too long,” River muttered under his breath.

“And when they do,” Gav continued over that, “it’s usually not for….”

“Interest in just a fuck?” River supplied helpfully. He gave Jaks a smile. It was a smile with teeth but it was still a smile. “Thank you for that. I keep telling him he’s beautiful, and he insists that’s my fondness for him talking. That no one would take one look at him and desperately long for his hands on them.”

“River.” Gav was suddenly sharp and stern. And it didn’t matter that a royal guard who had a firecat was across from him, he was a wizard. A royal wizard, very likely, with such power that he didn’t even notice it. He could carry out any threat he might make.

River shifted in his seat but was otherwise undeterred. “I’m thinking of it right now, in fact.” The sharp smile and hot gaze returned. “And all of I will let him do to me, which is more than he knows, even now.”

Gav, a wizard with the interest of a royal guard, and maybe also the protection of one, and probably the heart of one from the sound of their bickering, actually ducked his head in bashful surprise.

It was, despite Jaks’ embarrassment and fear, an incredibly appealing sight. Although, despite River’s words unbalancing him, he wasn’t silent for long. “Let you,” Gav echoed in a chiding manner, “as though you won’t beg.”

He had been appealing alone but now Jaks was lost in the image of the two of them fucking, and how it would be between them, which River and now Gav had all but told him. River, this dangerous creature, begged. And Gav was, or could be, stern with him—but of course, he’d have to be strong to taunt this deadly cat and apparently still get to fuck him.  

Jaks caught himself staring, then turned quickly toward River to apologize.

River tore his intense, furiously yearning gaze from Gav to give Jaks a smile of surprising sweetness. It was fleeting, but Jaks could feel it making him warmer while wondering foolishly if Gav normally got all that sweetness alongside the ferocity.

“Go now,” River ordered, before adding, with a soft grumble of his own, “please. Wait,” he added a second later, then pushed his ale toward Jaks. “As thanks for helping him convince him.”

“You haven’t convinced me of anything. I didn’t need convincing,” Gav insisted, although Jaks barely heard it.

He was up and out of his chair so fast he nearly knocked the chair over, but he took the ale so as not to be rude to the firecat in tight leathers.

“See?” said the firecat as Jaks hurried away, “no stabbing.”

“I don’t think ‘not stabbing’ deserves the reward you clearly think it does,” Gav answered, voice just as stern as before. Despite himself, Jaks shivered.

River used his key to get into Gavin’s room then dragged himself forward to plop himself into the chair at Gavin’s desk. His ass was in the seat for only a second before Gavin looked up from his reading, saw him, and then River was gently pulled into Gavin’s lap.

They were on Gavin’s bed. River noted it as he straddled Gavin, but honestly was too happy to put all his weight on Gavin to think about fucking. Not yet, anyway. For the moment, he was all aches and pains and the wonderful feel of Gav’s hands sweeping up and down his back.

“The state of you,” Gavin murmured, pausing when his roving hands made River stiffen and whine a little before trying to shift his position. “I’m trying to heal you,” Gavin informed him, as though River hadn’t known that. As though Gavin didn’t just do that now whenever River came to see him in his tower, or anywhere really; run his hands over River to find every scrape and bump and soothe it away.

River stirred, trying not to press into Gavin’s gentle hands. “Faddal says I should leave the soreness for a day or two to remind me to be careful.”

She was a brutal instructor. But she let River hit the dummies as hard as he could. And she was the best of the royal guards River wanted to be the best too. He needed to be, for Gav.

Gavin stopped his hands and hummed thoughtfully. Then he resumed magicking away River’s pains. “I’m not taking advice from someone who runs from the person she’s in love with,” he said decidedly.

River sighed deeply as his aches disappeared, leaving only his general exhaustion behind. He inched forward to rest his chin on Gavin’s shoulder, leaving Gavin to hold him up. Gavin’s studies could wait a moment. River wasn’t moving. “Wait. Is your moth—is the queen in love with Faddal? I thought she was just chasing her. You know. To scratch an itch.”

“An itch?” Gavin demanded in a scratchy voice. He stopped his hands again although they’d just been petting River now and not healing anything. “She approached her with respect… at least at first. Before whatever happened that made Faddal… Are you saying that happened to you before? Someone chased you while you ran away?”

River debated pulling back to look at Gavin and judge his reaction to that, but in the end chose to wrap his arms tighter around Gav and stay put. “Yeah,” he admitted cautiously, “but they weren’t in love with me. They just wanted into my pants.”

Gavin’s wonderful hands, resting on River’s hips now, just above his hands, moved quickly up to River’s ribs.

River, sighing again, an embarrassing, fond sound this time, moved Gav’s hands back to his hips and his pants and left them there.

“So the queen really loves her too? Does Faddal love her?” River didn’t wait for an answer. “It’s a fucked business, all of it.”

“All of it?” Gavin echoed, possibly hurt.

River inched back to look at him and caught the glint in Gavin’s eye. “You think you’re so clever, wizard,” he growled, although it was a weak growl. Cari could do better and she was not close to full grown.

Gavin just kissed him, cupping River’s face to keep him still and drive him wild with how gentle it was. Gavin could do whatever he wanted to River and he chose that. River nearly couldn’t stand it sometimes, but then somehow he always did.

Gavin kissed River senseless for a good, long while. Deep, slow kisses to make River tremble; River had done his work too well. Then, with River stunned and soft and quieted, Gavin let River slump against him again and resumed rubbing his back. He was probably still reading, using his magic to turn pages while he calmed River. River really ought to protest or leave him be. Anything but bury his face in Gav’s neck and let the tension fall out of him.

“The queen came by to talk to her today actually,” he informed Gavin after a while, burrowing in like a wild animal that had just discovered warmth and comfort in one of the beds in the mews. “But she just kept talking to me.” It wasn’t terrifying, exactly, but River could have done without royal attention—from Gavin’s mother, no less. No matter how much she said she wanted Gavin to be happy, she couldn’t like seeing Gavin with a runi beastminder, even if River was a royal guard now, or soon to be.

Gavin, of course, believed his mother was happy about it, and so didn’t have those concerns. He kissed River’s neck, and asked an idle question as if he wasn’t trying to melt River into a puddle. “What did she talk about?”

“Cats.” River moved to get another kiss on his neck and only barely held in his moan when this was granted. “She asked how the firecats go about it.”

The neck kissing stopped. Gavin raised his head. “My mother asked how the cats fuck?”

He was incredulous. River supposed that made sense. It wasn’t his fault Gavin had scrambled his brains with that mouth of his.

“No.” He kissed Gavin’s neck, awkwardly trying to soothe him in return. “The rest of it. The cats do try to court each other, you know.” With violent results a lot of the time. “There’s lots of fighting, which I told her. And she asked how I got a cat,” River paused, remembering now that the queen had asked this while looking Faddal right in the eye. “I admitted I wasn’t trying to at the time, but I’d slept near them, and cared for them, and when Cari played, I played with her.”

Gavin was still unmoving. “What did my mother say to that?”

River gave his neck another quick kiss. “She sighed heavily and said, ‘I see.’ Then she looked away from Faddal and left shortly afterward.” River frowned at the memory. “She’s in love with Faddal, and Faddal loves her back, but Faddal won’t do anything about it? Why not? They’re duad not runi.” The Dua were fine with such relationships as the Horun were not, at least, without questions of rank and royal blood popping up. “How long as this been going on?” he asked finally.  

“Years.” Gav was probably making the same face he did when he couldn’t translate some old dead wizard’s code to read their work. “Although my mother escalated it fairly recently, after Faddal left the palace and came here. She’s needed here, but privately, I think she was running. Now that you tell me this… my mother sent me a message today saying she was returning to the Durii palace soon, so she wanted to see me before she left. So… that must be that, then. She’s chosen to end her attempt at courting Faddal. She’ll be upset. I should talk to her tomorrow.”

River wondered if he ought to rub Gavin’s back. “If it’s what Faddal wants then there’s nothing to be done. But… if a runi beastminder…”

“Royal guard trainee with a firecat,” Gav corrected as he always did, which River ignored, as he always did.

“…Can openly love a Durii prince…” River was not blushing. He wasn’t. “Then I don’t understand why she won’t allow herself that.”

“Because you were so easy to convince?” Gavin asked in return, light, but also not really light at all. “You still aren’t convinced. That’s why you say ‘beastminder’ and not what you are now.” Gavin firmed his grip to hold River still when River tried to shift away. “You’re expecting to be told you can’t have this.” Gavin’s hands came up to River’s neck and shoulder, while the pressure stayed at River’s waist to keep River right where they both wanted him to be. Gavin urged River’s head up so he could look River in the eye. He leaned in and spoke softly. “But I will have you, River. If I have to leave here, and run away with you and Cari, I will have you. Do you think I’m lying?”

River had no way to dodge but tried anyway. “Nobles doing whatever they—"

“River.”

River gave in with a shudder, although he did close his eyes. “Yes. I believe you. I believe that you mean that. But not that they will let us stay together. I want to. But…” he lowered his voice even more, barely whispering, “you haven’t been to Horun, Gav.”

A gentle kiss was his answer and his undoing. “We can wait years for you to trust us. The Durii are a patient family.”

As Faddal should have known, River thought. But River hadn’t thought it either. Of course, River hadn’t known any Durii until Gav. “Faddal val Ian is noble,” he said aloud. “That’s a noble name to the Dua. And she doesn’t think she’s acceptable for the queen but I’m supposed to—"

Gavin kissed him again, and again, and again. Slow and controlled and intending to leave River helpless in his lap. He was too good at that, he really was. And in easing River down to the bed onto his back and settling over him to lightly crush River while he resumed kissing River’s neck.

River was holding handfuls of Gavin’s hair. He had no idea how that had happened. “Ah, I love you, Gav.” He was a wretched runi who never learned. Then Gav rose onto his elbows to smile at him and River could feel himself about to say it again.

“What?” he asked quickly so Gavin wouldn’t look too smug.

“You win a cat with care and attention… and pets,” Gavin revealed, smiling as if if he didn’t smile just then, he’d burst into flame or something equally magic and strange.  

“Hmph.” River should silence him by reaching for Gavin’s pants. “Fine,” he agreed without doing that, running his fingers over his mouth to make Gavin go wide-eyed. “I’ll just tell Faddal to let the queen pet her, shall I?”

Gavin wrinkled his nose. “I don’t need to imagine that.”

“You brought it up.” River got to be a little smug. But only for a moment. “You know,” he began, finding himself captivated by Gavin’s shoulder instead of his handsome face. “The Durii, at least, the two I have met…”

“So far,” Gavin interjected, likely just to make River momentarily panic.

“…Have been,” River wasn’t clever enough to know the word, “dangerous,” he decided on, ignoring Gav’s surprise. “Everyone talks about the cats, and the guards with the cats, and how intimidating Faddal is.” Or how attractive she was, to certain people. “But the Durii are… you could destroy me, Gav. You could take everything. All I’d have left is Cari and… maybe the Durii could take her too.”

“We—”

River shushed him with a hand over his mouth. “Faddal has more to lose, doesn’t she? That’s all I mean. You got me to trust you because… because you held me down and made me.” Gavin frowned, probably at this description of events. River moved his hand so he could trace Gavin’s mouth instead. “And I still worry. And all right… maybe you didn’t make me trust you. Maybe you just kept being willing to be seen with me. Shit.”

“My mother has done that with Faddal,” Gavin argued thoughtfully.

“How did I gain your…?” River stopped short, unsure of the right word again.

“Interest?” Gavin supplied. “Or heart?”

“I sucked your cock.” River might have tried to sound annoyed, but Gavin responded by accepting River’s fingers into his mouth for a moment, so he was too breathless to be convincing. “And taught you how to kiss and other such things.”

“And tried to protect me, over and over again though I didn’t realize it at first.” Gavin sighed. “And then demonstrated to everyone in Aminah that you would die for me. Which I am still angry about, if you were wondering.”

River glared at him and said not a word for several moments. “That wasn’t to court you.” But then he looked away. “I see your point, I think. If you had one, other than to upset me. And… when you speak to your mother tomorrow, tell her that… if she hasn’t already… to make it clear that she will wait for Faddal to move first.”

“It’s been years.”

“Of your mother pursuing her. If she wants Faddal to….” River looked up to Gavin’s eyes. “I would never have said or shown it more than I had without prompting. Even though that was an accident. To save you I did it though it was the last thing left to protect myself. And I would say it again if I thought it would ease any pain you had. But you couldn’t have forced it out of me otherwise. And you think Faddal is like me. It’s not enough that the queen wants her. The queen, I mean, your mother, will have to bare her heart too, so she has… not as much to lose as Faddal, but more than she does now.”

Gavn studied River for several moments, then leaned in to kiss him, sweet and too short. “If we got Faddal to pursue my mother, my mother would grant us anything we wanted.”

River was surprised into a laugh, then scowled, then pulled Gavin down on top of him. “Royals, always scheming when you could be fucking me.”

“Demanding cats,” Gavin returned, but sucked a kiss on River’s neck that made River writhe and pant into the air above Gav’s head. “I’m the only royal, right? The only one fucking you?”

River hissed without even meaning to.