#narcirys

24. Deep kisses where they have their hands tangled in each other’s hair to pull them closer.

It had started rather innocently, Narcissus swears it. They had been having a simple cuddling session, just sitting on the couch, tangled in each other, and Emrys was telling him about his day. Narcissus had been listening, he had been, but then Emrys had absently flicked his hair away and his shirt had ridden down his shoulder, exposing tan, freckled skin, and Narcissus, weak as he is, had been unable to resist the pull that urged him to press a kiss right there.

He felt Emrys freeze slightly, then get right back to chatting about the last drag show he’d seen, shimmying in place in Narcissus’ lap and making the shirt ride down even further, until the top of his chest was visible. Narcissus didn’t even need to look up; he could hear the smirk on his boyfriend’s face, all too aware of the effect he had on him. He let his mouth wander across the expanse smooth skin offered to him, kissing here, nibbling there, feeling the vibrations of Emrys’ voice through his chest and his heartbeat fluttering under his lips. He reached a pulse point, right under his jaw, and lingered there, nuzzling, kissing, and scraping his teeth against soft skin, until Emrys pulled him back with a hand in his short hair.

“You’re not listening to me.” he commented simply, matter-of-factly, but with a hint of something that made a shiver run down Narcissus’ spine.

“Yes I am.” Narcissus said, like a liar. 

“No you’re not.” Emrys leaned in slightly, just enough so that his breath ghosted over Narcissus’ lips, but without touching them. “That’s not really the attitude of a good boy.”

Narcissus’ breath hitched. His cheeks flamed and he almost cursed himself for being so sensitive and eager, but Emrys could undo him with a simple word, and he was powerless against it. And you love it, his brain supplied through the lusty haze that had begun to settle. He did. He did love it, being at Emrys’ mercy. Maybe because he knew that Emrys would never abuse of his trust in him.

Emrys tugged lightly on his hair.

“I’m going to kiss you now, if that’s okay with you.” The gentleness of his tone contrasted with the determination of his first words, and that alone reminded Narcissus why again he had fallen so deep for him.

“It’s very much okay.” Narcissus nodded, a little frantically, wide eyes zooming in on Emrys’ lips, until Emrys bridged the gap between them, and his eyes fluttered shut.

Emrys kissed him like he held all the air of the world between his lips, with a treasure of promises in his mouth, and sparkles of magic on his tongue, leaving him breathless, gasping for breath and more at the same time. Narcissus wrapped his arms around his shoulders and buried his hands in long green hair before Emrys could pull back entirely, pushing him back into him as he sunk in the couch. Emrys placed a knee between Narcissus’ thighs as he bucked into him, whimpering into his mouth as he touched him through their clothes. He couldn’t tell where he ended and Emrys began anymore, and he found that it stopped mattering the second Emrys had laid hungry eyes on him. He felt like heaven on earth, tasting ambrosia on every caress of his lips, soft hair under his fingertips like the finest China silk, and the touch of hands igniting a roaring fire under his skin that spoke of sweet burning, of gasps muffled on hot skin, of a song perfected with every rhyme.

Emrys pulled himself back. Narcissus chased his lips desperately, but stopped when a firm hand was placed on his shoulder. His cheeks were flushed pink and his eyes sparkled like champagne bubbles.

“Anyway, she had a gorgeous dress, you should have come...” he said, babbling on about his drag show as if nothing ever happened.

He is Ready.

He's got hot chocolate, blankets and hugs for whenever Emrys needs them.

The market was bustling around Emrys as he wandered around the stalls, humming to himself. He had spotted, a while ago, a nice-looking woman who sold, brightly coloured scarves that he thought Narcissus would like, and a burly man with a basket full of jewellery he would very much like to peruse for himself. As he strolled around, his eye suddenly caught on a shock of reddish hair, and his heart sped up, bringing a smile to his lips. He jogged up to the figure, light on his feet, and was around to jump into the arms of who he thought was his boyfriend – when he realised that it wasn’t him, but a young woman with long red hair buying pomegranate with a white fennec fox on her shoulders. Disappointed, he turned back, and almost collied with another person.

“Shit, sorry, I’m-” the person spoke.

Emrys’ blood froze in his veins. He knew that voice. He knew it all too well, and he never wanted to hear it again.

“Emrys?” Dahlton said.

He didn’t look up, almost shell-shocked, dimly registering that his body was shaking like a leaf. The sound of his name in his mouth… he had almost forgotten it. He had wanted to forget it, to erase all traces of him, and he had almost succeeded. He had filled his heart with all the love Dahlton never gave him, and more, and he had thought there was nothing left he could feel for him. But his memory, his body, had not quite forgotten, and as he stood there, paralysed, all the things Dahlton had done to him came back rushing, numbing him all over with fear and anger.

More words were coming out of Dahlton’s mouth, but Emrys could barely hear them, as if his head was underwater. He could, however, see the hand Dahlton was raising and, through the tears that had started to form in his eyes, watched as it came closer, and closer to his face, until–

“Don’t touch him.”

–it was snatched back by another. The new voice – familiar, relieving, beloved –snapped him back to the present. Emrys looked up, eyes wide and tears helplessly rolling down his cheeks, to see Narcissus standing tall between him and Dahlton, his beautiful features sharpened by a look of cold fury Emrys had never seen on him before, long fingers wrapped in a crushing hold around Dahlton’s wrist.

“What the–” Dahlton struggled uselessly under Narcissus’ hold. “Who the fuck are you? His pimp?” he spat.

Narcissus’ pointed ears flattened on the side of his head and his irises thinned as red-hot energy started to pulse from his palm. Wrong thing to say.

“Get away from him.” he growled behind clenched teeth.

His canines had sharpened, his every hair stood on edge, his yellow eyes glowed with an unnatural, bright golden light tension pulling his muscles taut, and the red energy blazing in his hand had started to draw a small crowd around the three of them. Dahlton cried out in pain. Blisters had formed under Narcissus’ touch, and bright red spider webs were slowly creeping up his arm.

“Let go of me, you freak!” he managed to shout.

Narcissus leaned in close to him, features almost animalistic.

“If I ever see you near Emrys again,” he said slowly. “You will suffer a far greater deal than you are right now.”

He let go, and Dahlton stumbled a couple of feet back, clutching his injured hand. The spider webs still marked his skin. He looked from them to Narcissus, fury twisting his features, and lunged towards him. Narcissus caught him by the hem of his shirt, hand still flaring red.

“I am good friends with the Palace.” His demeanour was much calmer than it just was, but Emrys could still see the tension running through him. “You will be put under a restraining order.”

This time, when he let go, Dahlton fell to the ground.

“Now leave.” his tone brook no argument, and a threat was still clearly present.

Dahlton got up, his gaze alternating between Narcissus, radiating power and anger, and Emrys, shocked beyond words, and fled the market without another word.

Narcissus exhaled through his mouth, his entire body shaking with the force of his magic receding. He turned to Emrys.

“Hey.” he tried softly, hesitant, almost shy.

Emrys blinked several times.

“Are you- Are you okay?” Narcissus asked, tentatively reaching out, unsure if his touch would be welcome after that.

Emrys threw himself in his arms, shaking, almost knocking him to the ground.

“Thank you.” he whispered against his chest, tears soaking up Narcissus’ shirt.

Narcissus buried his face in Emrys’ green hair, breathing him in.

Please understand that Narcissus would be completely torn between admiring and gushing about the art pieces and admiring and gushing about Emrys because fuck he's got the best boyfriend in the entire world and oh no he's definitely gonna cry.

Emrys woke up with a start, sweat dampening his skin and making forest green hair cling to his brow. Disoriented, he felt around the mattress, looking for the long, warm body who made his nights a little more bearable– There was nothing. Only the bed, which seemed to stretch on forever, empty of the comforting presence of his boyfriend. Confusion meddled with residual anxiety from his nightmare, and he sat up quickly, looking around the dark room with bleary eyes. He couldn’t see a thing, but he knew almost instinctively that the one he yearned for wasn’t here.

“Narcissus?” he croaked out, voice hoarse with sleep.

No answer. Biting his lower lip, Emrys got out of the bed, draping the blanket around his shoulders like a cloak. His head spun with a little vertigo, then he shuffled slowly out of the bedroom, bare feet making no sound on the thigh carpet. When he opened the door, he spotted a little light in another room, and suddenly the darkness felt less stifling, like he could breathe again. He found Narcissus sitting at the kitchen counter, hunched over a textbook, as usual, eerily reminiscent of the painting of his namesake, long legs folded under the tall stool and pale skin almost glowing in the low light – candlelight, Emrys realised. Had he been more awake, Emrys would have chuckled at the picture of a man from the romantic period Narcissus painted – Narcissus had told him about romanticism and had shown him his favorite art pieces to illustrate the lesson – but in his state, only a faint, fond smile made its way past his lips. He padded over to his tall boyfriend, who barely had the time to register his presence that Emrys had wrapped his arms around his waist and buried his face in his collarbone.

“What are you doing up?” he mumbled against his boyfriend’s skin. He was so warm. “Come back to bed.” he whined slowly.

There was a beat during which Narcissus fumbled for something; his hearing aids. Emrys understood without having to look up. That was why he hadn’t heard him before.

“Sorry, I lost track of time.” Narcissus said, kissing the top of Emrys’ head apologetically. “Did you have a nightmare?” His tone was serious, but tender, and the hand he carded through long green locks more comforting than anything Emrys had ever felt.

“I missed you.” Emrys muttered. “Come back to bed.” he repeated.

Narcissus glanced hesitantly at his textbook, then back at his boyfriend, almost already asleep in his arms. A fond, hopelessly in love smile curled his lips upwards.

“Okay.” he whispered. “Let’s go back to bed.”

“I love you. I love you. I love you.” his mind murmured as Emrys burrowed further into him, a content smile on his face.

It was the small things that tipped him off. When sunlight hit Emrys' eyes a certain way, they seemed to shimmer and reflect a thousand years old forest, alive and deep with ancient, secret folks long forgotten. The freckles on his sun-kissed skin seemed to wander across his body, never twice in the exact same spot. If Narcissus didn't blink, he could almost see Emrys' ears elongate and take on a pointy edge. Animals sometimes stopped on their ways to look at him, more intensely than they did with anyone else. Sometimes when they kissed, Narcissus could feel a sharp edge to his teeth that wasn't entirely natural. Emrys always seemed to vibrate minutely, as if inhabited by an energy, a power barely reined in, like a glass full ready to spill over at any moment. Like he wasn't totally human.

Narcissus found him beautiful. He was beautiful sprawled out on a worn couch, moaning about debts and coffee and adult life. He was beautiful hunched over a textbook, brows furrowed in concentration and tongue poking out as he deciphered the ever growing paragraph in front of him. He was beautiful munching on a slice of cold pizza at nine in the morning, hair mussed and eyes bleary from sleep, snuggled up in a shirt that wasn't his. He was beautiful waking up, shaking and crying, from a nightmare, swallowed by the darkness of the night, voice cracking as he told Narcissus to go back to sleep, that he was fine, he was okay, it would pass. He was beautiful bantering with his siblings about a resurrected raven, lips twitching to fight back a smile, eyes sparkling with mischief. He was beautiful beaming with pride, dimples cutting deep into his cheeks while his laughter filled the room, warming Narcissus' heart and probably the entire world as well.