The guilty look that crossed his friend’s face told Alec his worst fears had been correct. “I’m not letting you go,” he said again, gripping Seregil’s sleeve for emphasis.
Seregil shook his head miserably. “I can’t stay here.”
“All right, but you’re not leaving me.”
“I thought you’d be happy at Watermead.”
“I love everyone there like my own family, but not—” Alec broke off, feeling his face go warm.
“But not what?” Seregil turned and brushed a clump of damp hair back from Alec’s face, studying his expression.
Alec forced himself to meet Seregil’s questioning gaze squarely. “Not as much as I love you.”
Seregil looked at him for a moment, grey eyes still sad. “I love you, too. More than I’ve loved anyone for a long time. But you’re so young and—” He spread his hands and sighed. “It just didn’t seem right.”
“I’m not that young,” Alec countered wryly, thinking of all they’d been through together. “But I am half faie, so I’ve got a lot of years ahead of me. Besides, I’ve only just begun to understand Aurënfaie, I still don’t know one style of snail fork from another, and I can’t jigger a Triple Crow lock. Who else is going to teach me all that?”
Seregil looked out over the pond again. “Father, brother, friend, and lover.”
“What?” A coldness passed over Alec’s heart; Mardus had spoken almost those same words when asking about his relationship to Seregil.
“Something else the Oracle of Illior said that night I asked about you,” Seregil answered, watching an otter slip into the water. “I kept thinking I had it all sorted out and settled, but I don’t. I’ve been the first three to you and swore that was enough, but if you stay on with me—”
“I know.” Catching Seregil off guard, Alec leaned forward and pressed his lips to Seregil’s with the same mix of awkwardness and determination he’d felt the first time. But when he felt Seregil’s arms slip around him in a welcoming embrace, the confusion that had haunted him through the winter cleared like fog before a changing wind.
Take what the gods send, Seregil had told him more than once.
He would, and thankfully.
Seregil drew back a little, and there was something like wonder in his grey eyes as he touched Alec’s cheek. “Anything we do, tali, we do with honor. Before all else, I’m your friend and always will be, even if you take a hundred wives or lovers later on.”
Alec started to protest but Seregil smiled and pressed a finger across his lips. “As long as I have a place in your heart, I’m satisfied.”
“You always have to have the last word, don’t you?” Alec growled, then kissed him again. The feel of Seregil’s lean body pressing against his own suddenly felt as natural and easy as one stream flowing into another. His last remaining worry was that he had very little idea about how to proceed from here.
***
It was almost like an ordinary day at Watermead after that, the same as any other visit. Only it wasn’t. Even after their admission by the otter pool, Alec could sense the lingering sadness that still clung to Seregil. It was too much to hope, he supposed, that all that had happened this morning was enough to heal the wounds his friend carried. When Seregil noticed Alec watching him, he always brightened and smiled, but when he thought no one was looking the light faded a little. So Alec kept an eye on him and kept his own council. He caught Seregil watching him, too, looking a little worried. He wondered if he was beginning to regret his words that morning.
Anything we do, tali, we do with honor.
Things had changed between them, at the otter pool.
They might have changed in a worse direction if Alec hadn’t gotten there in time. The thought of Seregil trying to leave him behind still hurt.
Seregil seemed determined to keep them busy around the farm, carrying in water and firewood for Kari, helping Micum tend a horse with a sore on its leg, and driving a wagon to a field where the hired men were haying. As they rode back with a load, Alec seized the opportunity.
“Were you going off to die this morning?”
Seregil was quiet for a moment, staring down the track ahead of them, reins slack in his hands. “I don’t know,” he said at last. “Maybe. I’m sorry I scared you.”
“Don’t do it again.”
“I won’t.” Seregil turned to him, his expression solemn. “You have my word, Alec. Rei phöril—”
Alec clasped his shoulder. “Don’t. I don’t need any oaths from you. You said you’d never lie to me, and I believe you.”
“Thank you.” Seregil smiled—a real smile—and kissed him.
Alec’s breath caught in his throat; it was the first time that Seregil had initiated a kiss between them. He had questions of a different nature, too, but he couldn’t seem to find the words, out here in daylight.
Anything we do—
He couldn’t help thinking of the night he’d found Seregil lounging in that green light brothel in the Street of Lights and the first stirring of attraction he’d felt then—for now Alec understood what that had been. The highly detailed murals on the walls there had left him with no doubt as to the sort of pleasures men found with each other. Some of it wasn’t all that different from what he’d done with Ylinestra and Myrhichia, only—who did what to who when it was both men? Despite occasional good natured teasing, Seregil had never touched directly on the subject in any detail, and Alec was left with nothing but a vague mix of anticipation and unease, and concern for Seregil. This morning he’d been ready to go off and die. Maybe Alec was expecting too much?
By supper time he was willing the sun to sink faster, so that they could finally be alone to sort things out. As he sat with Seregil and the Cavishes by the hearth afterwards, holding little Gherin for Kari so she could knit, he began to feel increasingly nervous and awkward. Seregil was yawning, obviously worn out.
***
Alec grew more and more quiet, the closer they got to the end of the evening, and Seregil was aware of the way Alec’s gaze fixed on him when he thought Seregil wasn’t looking. It was more than ale or the hearth fire that kept that persistent pink flush in his friend’s smooth cheeks. It deepened to an outright blush when old Arna asked Alec if he felt all right.
The certainty Seregil had felt that morning was slipping. It’s too soon. I have no right.
But his traitor memory played the words of the Oracle over and over again: Father, brother, friend, and lover. Alec’s poignantly innocent kisses on that Plenimaran beach and today left him with no doubt that they were no longer merely friends, much less master and apprentice. They’d forged a bond built on shared trust and hardship. They owed each other their lives. Seregil wasn’t exactly sure when he’d fallen in love with Alec; it had taken him this long to admit it.
Friend. Lover?
Seregil remembered his first hesitant embraces with Ilar, the mix of fear and thrill and muddled desire. As much as he’d later come to hate the lying son of a bitch, he had to admit that Ilar had been the perfect first lover: gentle, patient, and asking for so little. There hadn’t been much opportunity for privacy at that summer encampment. They’d never even been naked with each other. All the same, Seregil had loved him and lived for his caresses until Ilar broke his heart and changed his life forever.
It hadn’t really prepared him for his first night in Prince Korathan’s bed, less than a year later. It wasn’t love that put him there, but desperate loneliness. The young prince had been kind, too, but less patient and far less restrained than Ilar. Only then did Seregil realize that his love making with Ilar had been little more than foreplay. Korathan expected—and got—a lot more than that from Seregil, right from the start. Seregil had hardly been able to get out of bed the first few mornings. Fortunately Korathan had been as careful to give pleasure as he was determined to receive it. Seregil hadn’t loved him, but was grateful for the sense of peace he’d found for a little while in the young man’s strong arms. And that h
ad ended abruptly and painfully, too, when Phoria caught them together one night.
He meant to do better than that by Alec.
Seregil wanted more than that.
He hardly realized how far his mind had strayed until Kari set her knitting aside and took Gherin from Alec’s arms. “Seregil, Alec’s about to go to sleep in his chair after the long day you gave him. Go to bed, both of you.”
She smiled as she said it, but it felt like she’d read his thoughts. Was it his guilty imagination, or did her look hold a warning?
Micum stood and stretched, then scooped up Luthas, who’d been playing with a horn spoon at his feet. “Good night! And remember; I want a sword match with you tomorrow, Alec!”
“I’ll be ready. I still have a few patches of skin that aren’t bruised.”
Finally alone, Seregil and Alec sat staring into the fire in silence. Knowing they’d probably spend the rest of the night like that if he didn’t do something, Seregil stood and held out a hand. Pulling Alec to his feet, Seregil took him in a loose embrace.
Alec hugged him back, but there was hesitation in his voice as he said, “You need some sleep.”
“It’s all right.”
Alec rested his head on Seregil’s shoulder for a moment, then took his hand and led him into the bed chamber they’d shared so chastely.
Arna had banked the guest room hearth. Warmth lingered in the air, and with it the scent of pine kindling and the mingled perfume of carved cedar wood and sweet strewing herbs. The night wind sighed softly in the chimney, making the tinkling embers glow red under a thin pall of ash. Mice stirred restlessly in the thatch over the rafters and a lonely cricket chirped from some shadowed corner.
Alec came to a halt beside the bed, then took him by the shoulders far more gently than he had at the pond and kissed Seregil again in that firm, earnest way of his. Unskilled as he was, there was a naked honesty to it that warmed even the coldest, most shadowed reaches of Seregil’s battered heart.
“Talí.” It was the only thing Seregil could think of that encompassed everything he felt right now.
Alec smiled. “You called me that by accident the first time, remember?”
“Unthinking, perhaps, but no accident.”
Alec’s cheeks went crimson as he declared softly, “You’re my talí, too.”
***
Something was going to happen tonight, Alec knew; something that would probably change the way they looked at each other forever. Seregil was his friend. Alec didn’t want that to change, and yet he did.
They stood there for a moment in each other’s arms. “What now?”
Seregil’s chuckle sent a tickling vibration through his chest. “There’s nothing to be scared of.”
“I’m not scared!” It didn’t sound very convincing, though, and he felt his face go red.
“You’re my friend, Alec, and my talí. You and no other. If you don’t want this, it doesn’t change anything for me.”
Alec tightened his arms around Seregil’s waist. He could feel Seregil’s heart beating hard against his own. Warm fingers caressed the back of his neck. Warm lips kissed his forehead. Seregil said nothing but Alec knew he was waiting for an answer.
He kissed Seregil and murmured, “What do we do now?”
“Bed.” Seregil released him, then shucked off his clothes. He was thinner than usual, thanks to his summer of mourning, but still as beautiful in Alec’s eyes as ever. Then he noticed with a pang of embarrassment that Seregil’s cock wasn’t stiff in that patch of dark hair. Neither was his, for that matter. “Something’s wrong.”
Seregil smile. “No, it’s not.”
Blushing furiously, Alec looked away and began to undress, but when he was down to his long shirt Seregil caught his hand and stopped him. “Lie down.”
Alec’s heart beat against his ribs as he pulled back the quilts and slipped between the clean, sun freshened sheets. It beat a little harder as Seregil climbed in beside him.
Lifting Alec’s right arm out of the way, Seregil slid under it to settle close beside him with his head on Alec’s chest and his arm snug around Alec’s waist. Then he yawned and Alec felt the tension leave his friend—his talí’s—body. Something of the feeling of their morning embrace came back to him; this felt easy and right. Heat settled in Alec’s belly as he stroked Seregil’s silky brown hair and watched the shifting shadows above the rafters, enjoying the soft rhythm of Seregil’s breath against his chest through the thin material of his shirt. He’d slept beside Seregil many times, but never like this.
After a few minutes Seregil looked up at him. “I still see questions in your eyes.”
Alec hesitated, screwing up his courage to finally voice his main concern. “Remember when I found you at that green lantern brothel?”
Seregil grinned. “It was quite the memorable moment.”
“Well—” This was as difficult as trying to make himself jump from the tower of Kassarie’s keep! But this time he managed it without being thrown. “It’s just—I’ve been thinking of those murals.”
Seregil raised an amused eyebrow. “You want a tavern board to choose from?”
“No! I just—I’m not so sure I want to do some of those things. A lot of those things!”
“Forget all that.” Seregil smoothed a stray strand of blond hair away from Alec’s cheek. “I think I know what you’ll like tonight. And you can always say so when you don’t.”
Alec paused, then shifted away just enough to pull off his shirt without elbowing Seregil in the face. Then he kicked back the covers.
Seregil’s eyes widened, no doubt surprised at this breach of Alec’s usual modesty. Then he leaned forward and kissed Alec, sliding the tip of his tongue lightly across Alec’s closed lips. Strange thing to do, but it felt surprisingly good, so Alec did it back. This won him a hum of approval. He could feel the long hardness of Seregil’s shaft against his hip now, and his own against his belly.
Pulling back a little, he gasped, “Show me.”
And Seregil, ever the willing teacher, did so, slowly at first, with fingers, lips, and tongue, touching him in ways that made Alec gasp and shiver. Seregil showed him sensitive places he didn’t even know he had: the side of his neck, the crook of an elbow, an ankle, behind his balls. Drowning in sensation, he lay there, letting Seregil do what he wanted; this was like nothing he’d ever felt, not even with Myrhichia. His cock ached but Seregil didn’t touch it, even when Alec began to move under his hands, trying to coax him there.
Seregil chuckled softly, then stretched out beside him and kissed Alec’s right knee. Then just above it, and a bit higher, and then a little higher, slowly working his way to the edge of the small island of dark blond curls at the base of his shaft. Alec’s breath quickened as Seregil swirled his tongue across the sensitive skin between there and his hipbone. Myrhichia had taken him in her mouth and pleasured him with her tongue. That had been exciting and pleasurable, but it was all the more so when Seregil did the same, and with skills rivaling those of the courtesan. Stroking Seregil’s hair with shaking fingers, he was half aware of his own whispered, incoherent pleas for release. But Seregil stopped too soon. Far too soon.
“Not yet, talí,” Seregil said, tracing the length of Alec’s shaft with his tongue one last time from root to foreskin. He guided Alec up to sit with his back to Seregil’s chest and began kissing and nipping at the back of his neck and across his shoulders, all the while caressing his chest and belly, just a few tantalizing inches from where Alec most wanted to be touched again.
Seregil murmured something in Aurënfaie against his skin.
“What?”
“My heart is yours forever.”
“So is mine—” Alec gasped as a thumb skimmed his left nipple. “Yours, I mean.”
Seregil laughed softly, a deep, rich throaty laugh, then licked Alec’s ear and teased the stiffened nipple again between two fingers.
Alec felt a little faint. Ylinestra had been domineering and had
cheated with magic; Myrhichia had been sweet and kind. For the first time now, Alec experienced the confluence of love and sex and it was better than any magic.
Too good, in fact. When Seregil took Alec’s cock in his hand and stroked it as he nipped at that place where Alec’s neck met his shoulder, it was too much. Alec arched in his arms, vision gone white in a long agony of pleasure, and came all over his chest, belly, and Seregil’s hand. Mortified beyond words, he weakly tried to struggle free, but Seregil held him tight.
“It’s all right, talí. I take it as a compliment,” Seregil murmured against his cheek, then licked one glistening finger, like it was coated with honey.
Alec felt a fresh spike of desire . He found his discarded shirt and wiped away the mess. Then, twisting around in the circle of his lover’s arms, he cradled Seregil’s balls in one hand and ran his fingers up the length of his smooth, hard length with the other, amazed at the weight of another man’s cock in his hand. “Show me more.”
***
Seregil had never seen anyone look so innocent and so wanton at the same time, but somehow Alec managed it. That, and Alec’s amazingly sure touch, nearly undid him. Pulling Alec down with him, Seregil whispered, “Touch me the way I touched you.”
Alec had always been an apt pupil, and this was no exception. Seregil swallowed something dangerously close to a giggle as he thought, if only he was this quick learning sword play!
Kneeling on the bed beside him, Alec ran his hands over Seregil’s chest and sides. The tips of the fingers on his right hand were slightly rough from pulling a bowstring. Seregil shivered deliciously as those hands roamed further afield, over his shoulders, down the insides of his thighs. He cursed softly in delight as Alec traced the arch of his foot with his tongue. Then he kissed him from throat to navel, soft blond hair raising gooseflesh as it brushed Seregil’s skin, but stopped just short of Seregil’s cock.
Glimpses: A Collection of Nightrunner Short Stories Page 8