by Toby Aden
He purred in his dream, rubbing himself up against the warm heat engulfing him. A groan came from somewhere in the back of his mind, but he had no idea what that sound was or who made it. Uncaringly, he burrowed further into the warmth, nodding his approval.
Something brushed against his face, and he slapped the pesky thing away. Even still partially asleep, he felt so rested, in fact, more rested than he could remember, and nothing was going to bring him out of that state. If he could get away with it, he’d remain in this state of semiconsciousness where he felt refreshed and surrounded by warmth.
Something tugged hard on his hair this time, a groan filling the room in. Yves finally relented and opened his eyes, only to feel reality crashing down on him as he peered over his shoulder at the golden man whose face was a mask of pained torture. He felt his own face heat up in embarrassment as he felt the erect cock that he had been rubbing all over nudging his ass cheeks.
Yves froze in place, staring speechlessly at Apollo with his mouth gone dry. This was certainly no dream! He watched as amusement soon colored the other man’s face, and then a bubble of laughter erupted, shaking his lithe body with the vibrations. He frowned, confused as to what caused the amusement.
Apollo leaned into him and gave him a resounding kiss on the cheek, his lips still curved in mirth. “You precious little thing. You should see your expression.”
Yves flipped over, still lying on top of Apollo so that they were facing each other, and then pouted. “I’m not little.”
“Not at all, you aren’t,” Apollo agreed, his gaze dropping to glance between their bodies to Yves’s prick, which was already semihard but growing bigger by the attention paid to it.
Their hips perfectly aligned so that they could feel every inch of each other. Apollo groaned and pulled with his hand behind Yves’s neck until their foreheads touched. Closing his eyes, he savored the feel of the male in his arms, knowing he would not allow this closeness again until the young man had come of age. He would not allow it simply because he was not sure he could keep his hands to himself for much longer.
A regretful sigh slipped from Apollo’s lips as he knew he had to restrain himself from pouncing on his younger mate. Strong, smooth fingers lightly traced his face, gentle and steady in their tracks.
“We have to stop.”
“Later,” Yves murmured, leaning forward to drag his lips against Apollo’s cheek.
“We…should…” Apollo said, trying to form the words a small part of his mind was insisting on.
“Not yet,” Yves countered.
Yves trailed his hand down Apollo’s body, touching with inexperienced yet eager fingers. He paused at Apollo’s waist and pushed the shirt upward, exposing Apollo’s six-pack muscled stomach and the beginning of a holy trail. His breath whooshed out of him as he stared, transfixed. The man really was golden all over, with his slacks riding extremely low on the V of his hips.
Yves reached out a hand but was stopped by Apollo gripping it in a firm hold. He looked up but was met with determination set in the other man’s face. They remained like that for a short while until Apollo slipped out from under Yves and the bed, landing agilely on his feet and padding away into what Yves assumed to be the bathroom before shutting it behind him.
For one thing, his mate was definitely stronger than him. Had the choice been left to him, Yves would have ravished the other man, inexperienced or not, and enjoyed every moment of it. Falling back onto the bed, he ran a hand over his face, sighing with reluctance.
He felt a bit restless just being away from Apollo, yet soothed by the scent of Apollo surrounding him. He wondered how he’d last the month left till he became of age. There was no way he could be with Apollo every minute of the day. He also could not be without Apollo for long without this desperate feeling crawling in every cell in his body.
He understood that this was not a normal reaction in every other Fae. He also understood that because of their match, the rarity of it and their vast difference, his reaction to Apollo was unlike anything else. It was something that could not be helped, but he knew Apollo had had a lot of years, centuries even, to prepare himself for this very thing.
However, what he did not know was how they were going to survive a month of this intense, desperate out-of-body feeling. He needed answers, and the only person who could give them to him had locked himself away, trying to save their bond from going wrong.
Slipping out from bed, he saw that he was still fully clothed and padded to the bathroom door. He tapped on it.
“I’ll be waiting in the sitting room. We need to talk, and I need to go home before everyone gets worried about me. If they aren’t already,” Yves called out, then turned, and walked out of the room.
* * * *
In the bathroom, Apollo turned the shower off and remained standing with both hands planted against the wall, his head bowed and left hanging in the space between his hands. His body was cooling off from the cold shower he had been taking. He heard Yves calling for him and knew he could not delay the inevitable.
Apollo wiped both hands toward his nape over his braided hair, which was now wet from his shower, and then squeezed the water out of the dripping tips before opening the shower glass. He stepped out, wet and naked, then grabbed a towel from the rack, and wrapped it around his waist. Wiping his feet on the bath mat, he pulled a smaller hand towel and began vigorously rubbing his wet hair, moving to open the door as he did so.
Walking toward the wardrobe, he fished out dark slacks with a white shirt. Not a fan of underthings, he closed the wardrobe and began pulling on the slacks. Padding back into the bathroom, he turned on the hair dryer, turning it to heat, and then began meticulously blow-drying his wet and dripping braided hair.
Staying away from his mate once more was not an option for him. He would do whatever it took to ease the youngling’s overwhelming emotions, but he would not consider leaving. Even apart from the fact that it would hurt the both of them more than help, he wanted to know more about this lovely creature who belonged to him.
With sudden clarity, he realized what he wanted and needed most. If they couldn’t express their feeling in a sexual as well as binding manner, he would do his utmost best to show the youngling in other ways. With that decision firmly in mind, he turned the dryer off and smoothened his braided hair back before walking back out to the bedroom. He picked the shirt from where he had left it earlier on the bed and shrugged it on. He exited the room, only to pause at the door to silently examine and admire his mate who was distracted by getting ready to leave.
Chapter Four
“Walk me home?”
Yves paused from wrapping the sash around his neck and raised a brow, awaiting an answer. With the suns slowly setting, he needed to leave for home, so he was already preparing to leave as he waited for Apollo to show up. He had glimpsed Apollo watching him silently before finally breaking the silence between them.
Apollo nodded, watching Yves from where he was leaning with his hands in his pockets against the wall. “Whenever you’re ready.”
Yves nodded. “Okay. I am. Like, now.”
Apollo pulled his hands out of his pockets and approached Yves. “Come on.”
Together, they exited the house, taking the path back the way they had come. They walked in companionable silence for a while, just taking in each other’s presence and the beautiful scenery and greenery around them.
“Would you like to meet my family?” Yves asked, breaking the silence between them.
Apollo glanced up toward the sky and then back at the lovely man before him. He caressed Yves’s cheek. “I would be honored to. Just not today. Today, I have some urgent business to take care of.”
Yves bit his bottom lip nervously. “When are you leaving?”
“Immediately after here.”
Yves began kicking his feet against the pavement, fidgeting as he glanced at what he was doing. “And when are you coming back?”
Apollo sighed, kno
wing that was the next obvious question. He hated seeing the uncertainty on his beloved’s face, but there was no help for it. He had to leave, and he knew his answer would be one that would disappoint.
“I don’t know.”
Yves nodded, his gaze still downcast. It had been too good to be true anyway. They were just two different people who had different responsibilities and things that pulled them in different directions. He supposed he should be at least glad he’d found his mate, gotten a temporary release from the constant restlessness, but he was worried about being apart. He wasn’t the sort to be strong, and he didn’t know if he would be able to handle the distance between them.
“Do you at least know how long you’ll be gone for?”
“A couple of days, maybe weeks at most. But I’ll do my best to get back early.” Apollo pulled Yves to him, holding the slimmer body to his in a very tight hug.
A bit reluctant at first, Yves left his hands at his side, not touching yet not refusing the hug bestowed on him.
“Come now, Yves. I would not go if it was not extremely urgent.”
Yves buried his face further into Apollo’s chest, inhaling the sweet scent of his fated mate. “Really?”
Apollo smiled against Yves’s head, holding the smaller man even tighter. “I would love nothing more than to spend time with you. Get to know you better and fall deeply in love with you, but I really have to go.”
At that, Yves relented and wrapped his arms around Apollo, holding on for dear life. He liked that he wasn’t the only one feeling this way. He did not want to let go of the other man or even let him out of his sight.
“I am going to miss you a lot. I don’t know if I can go so long without seeing you,” Yves said, his voice muffled by Apollo’s chest.
“I will miss you more, youngling,” Apollo said and laid a kiss against the side of Yves’s head.
They stayed in the embrace for a while, simply holding on to each other and not letting go. It was hard, but Yves reluctantly released his grip when Apollo finally pulled back. He took his sweet time, painstakingly releasing Apollo slowly. He traced his hands down Apollo’s arm until he wrapped his around Apollo’s hand.
“I have to go now.”
Yves nodded, squeezing the other man’s hand. “I know. Just give me a few more minutes.”
One side of Apollo’s lips rose in a smile, and then he pulled an unsuspecting Yves forward, making the man stumble into his arms. Yves, who had been taken by surprise, held on to Apollo’s arm to maintain his balance. He glanced up at Apollo in surprise, wondering what the man was now up to.
Apollo leaned down and took Yves’s mouth in a kiss. He parted inexperienced lips with his tongue and sucked the bottom lip into his mouth, nibbling and sucking on the tender, succulent flesh. He licked the lips in his mouth, playing and paying attention to them.
Yves moved his lips with eager enthusiasm, following Apollo’s lead and reciprocating. Yves had never felt anything like this before, and it sent tingles down his body. When Apollo slipped his tongue into his mouth to pull his tongue out to play, he moaned.
He felt his legs turn to liquid beneath his weight with the onslaught of desire pouring into him and held tightly on to Apollo for balance. He was ever grateful for Apollo also supporting his weight with one hand around his back and the other fisting a handful of hair at the back of his nape to hold him in place.
He wanted nothing more than for Apollo to devour him and to merge with the other man. Joy and excitement had replaced the constant feeling of overwhelming restlessness that always besieged him. He found peace in the arms of his lover, a peace unlike what he had felt. It was like coming home after a long, long, perilous journey.
Apollo broke away from the kiss, resting their foreheads together as they both breathed raggedly. They stayed like that for a while, just holding each other. Soon, Apollo moved back, gazing lovingly at his beloved before pressing a kiss to Yves’s forehead one last time, whispering, “Until we meet again, youngling.”
* * * *
Yves was walking on cloud nine, ecstatic yet missing Apollo with every step he took away from the other man. Finally, he had what his brother did, or the beginnings of one.
The moment he opened the door to the house, little Kelric, the one-year-old son of his brother, Aaeren, and Radisq, bumped into him, clinging to his legs and screeching in laughter. He grinned down at his incorrigible nephew, who after learning to walk proved a terror to the entire household.
Kelric had grown so fast over the months. Time flew by so fast with the young one in the house. He’d moved from a child who cried at all times of the night, keeping his parents awake through the early morning, to a toddler who put anything and everything into his mouth, making everyone extra anxious and watchful for the little kid. Now, Kelric was at the stage where he was chased down by everybody to get the boy to do anything.
Swinging Kelric into his arms, he threw the boy up into the air a few times, eliciting carefree laughter.
“Up…up!” Kelric screeched with laughter.
From the corner of his eyes, he spied Radisq with a smile on his face, shaking his head at their tactics while holding a bathing towel, obviously for the little terror in his arms. He shook his head back at Radisq, smiling until the other man just folded his arms across his chest and glanced at them with a raised brow. Yves sighed as he caught Kelric in his arms and held the boy in place, against his chest.
“Unca Vee. Up!” Kelric protested when Yves stopped tossing him in the air.
Kelric still wasn’t able to pronounce his name properly, so he had been stuck with being called Unca Vee by his one and only nephew. He loved the boy to pieces. In fact, they all did. On Kelric’s birthday, he had presented them with several paintings of Kelric in a series that he’d been working on for a very long time.
It was a series that showed the various stages of the growth of Kelric, and everyone had been so stunned when he’d presented the paintings. It had been an amazing gift as Radisq had pointed out, and they were now hanging on the walls of Kelric’s bedroom.
Yves shook his head, holding his nephew to his chest. “Time to meet Papa.”
Kelric turned, searching for his papa, so Yves turned until the little boy could see Radisq. An excited squeal left the boy’s lungs, right into Yves’s ear.
“Papa!”
The little body began squirming to get down, and with a short laugh, Yves set the boy on his feet. He watched in amusement as those small legs carried Kelric away with his arms waving wildly in the sky until he crashed into his papa’s legs.
“Kelric, love…” Radisq began, amused and exasperated by his son’s antics.
It was all Yves could do to hold in the laughter ready to burst out of him when he saw Kelric’s next move. Apparently, after spying the bath towel, the little terror had known what was coming for him and had quickly raced in the other direction. When he saw Radisq let out a put-upon sigh before beginning his chase once more, Yves could no longer hold it in and started laughing.
There was never a dull moment in the mansion for any of them, and their mother, Arianna, had taken a lot of joy in having a child in the house once more. However, all this had only been a brief relief for him from the constant, desperate restlessness that had besieged him in the past. Yves shook his head, not wanting to relive or think about those moments. He was sure it was going to be extremely difficult in the weeks to come at least until his beloved showed up again. He wasn’t ready to give a head start to the desperation he was absolutely sure he would come to feel.
Passing by Aaeren’s study, he paused to stare through the open door, remembering how many times he’d stood at this very spot to watch their father. How many times had their father spotted him standing out here, only to pause whatever work he had been doing to call him in? How many times they’d talked and laughed, playing with words to deliver their point across. Diplomatic speeches and words they’d thrown at each other, testing each other’s wit and so many mor
e things.
Oh, how he missed the man who had been a father and husband first to his family before a king to their nation. When he lost their father, he didn’t just lose a father. For him, he lost one of his best friends, a comrade who understood him and pushed him to be the best he could be.
A hand on his shoulder shook him out of his reverie. Turning, Yves spotted Aaeren staring at him with a knowing look.
“Come in, brother. Have a drink with me,” Aaeren said, walking into the study with the expectation of Yves following.
“You know I don’t drink,” Yves said, walking in and shutting the door behind them.
“Just a sip.”
Yves barked a short chuckle. “That’s the second time today.”
Aaeren raised a brow, eyeing Yves questioningly as he poured a small amount into the glass for his brother. “Second time? Where have you been all day?”
Yves got a dopey smile on his face and accepted the glass from Aaeren, watching as his brother poured a decent amount of whiskey for himself. They clicked their glasses together in a silent cheer and then downed the contents.
Yves was unable to stop the smile curving his lips. “Somewhere special.” He smiled and had a faraway look in his eyes, memories of his time with Apollo making him giddy once more. “Definitely somewhere special.”
Aaeren nodded, glad to see the glazed and happy look in his brother’s gaze. They had all been worrying about him, and whatever had caused the good mood, he was glad for it but wasn’t going to pry.
Aaeren leaned against the bar, looking down at the glass in his hand and gathering his thoughts to voice. “I miss him, and I think about him sometimes you know.” He glanced up to stare at Yves, inclining his head in a nod before taking another sip of the strong alcohol. “Father, I mean.”
Yves placed the glass on the bar top. “I know the feeling. It hits me hard sometimes, like just now. I thought about how much we talked and laughed and tried to outwit each other, and they are such good memories.”