It had been a long time since he felt so light—so happy he was nearly dizzy from it, and smiling so hard his cheeks hurt. He had no idea how it had happened. There was something about the absurd play and Maxen’s presence, the little casual touches Maxen bestowed on him seemingly without thinking, as if he would always do that, had always done it. Oh, Faelen loved that feeling. He wanted to bask in it, to live in it forever, and to give it back to Maxen tenfold.
When they stepped out onto the street after their meal, Faelen’s breath caught in his throat, and he stopped dead just outside the door, looking up in wonder. Maxen walked right into him, knocking them off-balance. He caught Faelen by the waist to steady them as they both wobbled.
“Sorry!”
“No, it’s my fault,” Faelen said, covering Maxen’s hand with his own. “But look. It’s snowing.”
It was little more than flurries, but there was something magical about them nonetheless. The tiny flakes danced in the air, glistening in the glow of the streetlights. Faelen turned his face up to them and laughed as another little bubble of joy burst inside him.
“I guess you were right,” Maxen whispered. His arms were still around Faelen, holding him back against his chest. Faelen made a little noise of contentment and snuggled into Maxen’s solid warmth. Despite the chilly night, he could’ve stayed right there until morning, just him and Maxen and the snow flurries.
But the door to the eating house opened again, and they had to move out of the way of the group exiting. Maxen took Faelen’s arm and looped it through his. “Come on.”
They set off through the streets toward Maxen’s house, a bit slower than was probably prudent in the cold and wet, but there was something about walking together in the hushed night with snow swirling in the air. It was as if some magic spell had fallen over them, and Faelen was reluctant to break it even to say a word. Perhaps he didn’t have to, not yet. Perhaps Maxen felt it too, with how close he kept Faelen to his side. Faelen would have tried to get even closer if he thought he could have. Thoughts began to whirl through his head as they strolled, tempting him, making him wonder.
But he was only sure when Maxen turned to him, after they’d entered his house, and Faelen was able to look into his eyes. The blue practically glowed with innocent joy and wonder and something softer when he smiled at Faelen.
“I wasn’t thinking. You probably should have gone straight home. Now you’ll have to go out again in this weather.” Maxen’s grin flashed. “I know the snow is exciting, but the long walk up to the palace will get cold fast.”
“Maybe.” Faelen stripped out of his coat and gloves, laying them over a chair. “Or…I could stay. If that’s all right.”
“Of course. One of the guest bedchambers is always made up, mostly in case Valentin or one of my brothers ever decides to stay.”
“I wasn’t thinking about sleeping in a guest bedchamber. I wasn’t really thinking about sleeping.” Faelen gripped his hands together to keep from fidgeting. “If you like…I was hoping we could go to bed together.”
Maxen stared for a moment without saying anything, and Faelen began to worry he would say no, which was fine—for them to do this, Maxen had to feel the same. Faelen would deal with his disappointment alone in the guest bedchamber, and he’d be fine again by morning.
“Are you saying…?”
“I want to be with you.” Faelen’s voice didn’t tremble. “If you feel the same.”
“I…of course, I do. Maybe more than my next breath.”
A shiver of heat went through Faelen at the intensity in Maxen’s voice, at the words themselves. “Then have me.”
He almost said please, but he wasn’t going to beg, not now, not for this.
Maxen continued to watch him, but there was a new heat in his gaze that seared over Faelen where he stood motionless. “Are you sure? Just… I know you haven’t done this before, and I need you to be certain, ready.”
“Thank you for that. But I am certain. I am ready. I want this—you—so much. If you do too, then…”
Maxen was still; he barely seemed to be breathing. Then suddenly he was moving, covering the short distance between them and curving his hands around Faelen’s upper arms.
“You’re absolutely sure?”
“I am.” He smiled and raised his hands to Maxen’s shoulders. “Kiss me. Please.”
The kiss, deep and hungry, was everything Faelen craved. He thought Maxen might devour him alive, and he thought he might enjoy it. He threw his arms around Maxen’s neck and went up on his toes, arching into Maxen’s body, trying to get closer, trying for more and more. Maxen’s arms banded around him.
Faelen moaned into the kiss, long and low, and a shudder went through Maxen. He tore his lips away, and Faelen whimpered at the loss. He hadn’t had anywhere near enough.
“Upstairs?” Maxen asked, his breath ragged.
“Yes.” Oh, yes, please and now. Faelen had been thinking about this from the first time Maxen and he had kissed. It wasn’t something he’d ever really imagined before, not in anything but a hazy, conceptual way. Perhaps it should have given him pause, but he needed to know what it would be like between them.
Maxen took his hand as they walked up the stairs. Faelen had never been upstairs in Maxen’s house, didn’t know where his bedchamber was, but he walked beside Maxen anyway, refusing to be led, to let Maxen think he wasn’t sure.
Maxen pushed open a door partway down the corridor and let Faelen into his bedchamber. He kissed Faelen’s palm before going to the fireplace to coax the flames higher. Faelen stood where he was for a moment, somewhat adrift, and then went to the bedside table to light the candles there. He needed to see Maxen, perhaps even for Maxen to see him. Faelen practically vibrated with anticipation for seeing him, for feeling his skin under his fingertips and against his body.
He turned as Maxen straightened and faced him, and they just looked at each other for a moment. The light glinted on Maxen’s gold hair, flickered over his face. Beautiful. What did Maxen see when he looked at Faelen?
“Are you—”
“Don’t ask me if I’m sure again, or I’ll start to think you aren’t,” Faelen said, maybe sharper than he’d meant. He bit his lip. “I’m certain of this. Are you?”
“Yes, and I won’t ask you again.” Maxen cupped a hand around Faelen’s cheek. “But I will talk to you. Ask what you like and don’t, what you want and don’t.”
Faelen turned into Maxen’s hand and pressed a kiss to his palm. “I need to know the same about you. Everything we do here should make us happy.”
Maxen bent his head and kissed Faelen again, his hand sliding back into Faelen’s hair, fingers tangling in his curls. Faelen gasped and moved closer into Maxen, but Maxen broke the kiss. “Let me undress you?”
Faelen shivered at the intimacy of the act—odd to be struck by that with what they were about to do—but he nodded. Maxen’s fingers moved over Faelen, unfastening clothing and removing it—slowly, gently—letting it fall to the floor. Faelen hardly cared where it ended up when Maxen’s hands were dancing over him, touching each bit of skin revealed, kisses whispering in the wake of those caresses. By the time Faelen stood bare before Maxen, he was flushed and trembling, aching after the tantalizing touches and whispering kisses.
“Let me.” He wet his lips. “Let me take yours off too.”
It looked for a moment as if Maxen would protest, but he only dropped his arms to his sides. “Whatever you like.”
“But tell me if I do something you don’t like?”
At Maxen’s murmured assent, Faelen raised his hands to Maxen’s jacket, smoothing over the velvet on his chest as he took a long breath and steadied his hands. Then he unfastened the jacket and pushed it from Maxen’s shoulders. He longed to take his time the way Maxen had with him, to make Maxen tremble the way he had Faelen. But he also had to see Maxen, and he couldn’t make himself go as slowly as he intended. He tossed Maxen’s clothes away until he was naked, skin
warmed by firelight. The sight mesmerized him, and he reached out slowly, putting his hands on Maxen’s chest, spreading his fingers over smooth skin lightly dusted with golden hair.
“Faelen,” Maxen rasped. He put his hands to Faelen’s hips, sweeping them up his sides and igniting fires within him. “Faelen.”
Maxen pulled Faelen forward and up on his toes until they were pressed together. Faelen gasped into the kiss, the sudden feel of skin on skin like nothing he’d imagined—and he’d done quite a bit of trying to imagine what this would be like lately. His daydreams hadn’t come close to the reality of it. He writhed a bit, unable to keep himself still, and held Maxen tightly, spreading his fingers over the firm muscles of his back, digging his fingertips in as Maxen deepened the kiss. He gasped again when Maxen’s hard length pressed into his belly, moaning when Maxen slid a hand down his back and over his backside, pulling them even tighter together.
Maxen tore his lips from Faelen’s and kissed along his jaw, mixing nibbles in with the kisses and drawing another moan up out of Faelen. He couldn’t be quiet, couldn’t think enough to figure out how to even try, but Maxen didn’t seem to care.
“Bed,” Maxen whispered in his ear.
Faelen nodded almost frantically.
Maxen lifted him and carried him the short distance to the bed, letting him down on the edge before Faelen even had time to gasp. Faelen sprawled back on the soft sheets and lifted his arms. He needed Maxen against him again—more, to know how it would feel to have Maxen on top of him. Maxen crawled up over him, giving in to Faelen’s wordless urging to give him more of his weight, sinking into another kiss. It was delicious, the warmth of smooth skin over firm muscle pressing him into the soft mattress, lighting yet more fires inside him, making him think he might just burst into flame, leaving nothing behind. But, he was also comfortable and safe because it was Maxen against him.
Faelen kissed every bit of Maxen that came close enough, caressed and touched every part of Maxen he could reach, rubbed himself shamelessly against Maxen’s whole body. Why should he feel shame for something that brought them such joy?
“What do you want?” Maxen asked in a ragged whisper.
Faelen took a moment to gather his words, his wits. Easier said than done with Maxen nibbling delicately at his neck. “I’d like you inside me. Is that something you’d like?”
Maxen lifted his head so he could stare down into Faelen’s eyes. “Very much. I’m going to ask, though.”
Faelen laughed. “I’m sure.”
“Then that’s what we’re going to do, but if you need me to stop anytime, tell me. I will.”
Faelen pulled Maxen down for another kiss. He already knew Maxen would be careful, that he wouldn’t do anything Faelen didn’t want. It was one of the reasons he trusted him enough to be there. He trusted Maxen with anything, everything.
He wished he could tell Maxen everything.
It was easy to forget that wish when Maxen kissed him, when he pressed kisses to his chest and sucked lightly at his nipples. His moans grew louder as Maxen breached him with slick fingers, moving them slowly and carefully for so, so long. By the time Maxen pushed inside him, Faelen was incoherent, babbling a broken litany of something that might’ve been pleas. He might have been embarrassed if he had room for it in his head, but he could only feel—the fullness that was almost too much, the pleasure that rushed through him as Maxen began to move. He clung to Maxen with legs and arms as Maxen wrung every last bit of bliss out him until it seemed the world exploded around him, or perhaps Faelen just flew into a million pieces. He regained enough of his wits to watch as Maxen found his release, to hold him tighter through it, to marvel at the even stronger sense of connection between them.
They lay sprawled across the bed for a long time with Maxen mostly on top of Faelen. His body felt languid and wonderfully used, his lips swollen from kisses. Maxen’s lips skimmed over Faelen’s shoulder; Faelen clutched at Maxen’s back. But otherwise, they remained quiet and still, just breathing.
Faelen used the time to find himself again after an experience that had changed everything. He’d felt a great sense of connection with Maxen before. He cared for—loved—this man. But this was more. This was everything. And he wanted it forever.
Chapter Fifteen
Faelen woke slowly with the delightful feeling of being warm and cozy. Maxen was solid against his back, an arm over Faelen’s waist holding him in place. He’d never woken up beside anyone before—waking up with his twin many times when they were children hardly counted. He snuggled into Maxen’s arms, luxuriating there as he thought about last night. There was no going back to sleep, not when he’d begun to remember.
It had been…wonderful.
Faelen regretted nothing. How could he? He loved Maxen. It was easy to admit it now as he lay safe and cherished in his bed, though he wasn’t quite ready to admit it to Maxen. And Faelen wasn’t sure Maxen was any more ready to hear the words than Faelen was to say them.
But he wouldn’t think of that now. They would have time to figure everything out. They’d been moving toward this point for a long time, longer than Faelen had even realized. It had taken Faelen longer to see Maxen in that way, but that was all right too. Maxen cared about him, and he cared about Maxen; that was the important part.
Faelen closed his eyes and let himself drift, floating on lazy warmth and contentment.
It was only when his stomach started to rumble that he began to reluctantly think of getting up. But perhaps they could come back after breakfast if Maxen didn’t have anywhere else to be. Faelen hoped he didn’t.
Sighing, he gave in to the inevitable. Turning slightly, he tried to gently wake Maxen, first whispering his name and then saying it louder. Maxen only grumbled, mumbling something that could have been words but didn’t sound like any of the languages Faelen had studied.
After a few moments, Faelen shook his head. Maxen was not going to wake up anytime soon, which meant Faelen would have to seek out food on his own. Maybe he could find something to hold him over and then crawl back into bed beside Maxen. An excellent idea.
He slipped out from under Maxen’s arm, expecting some sort of resistance that didn’t come. Maxen immediately rolled and buried his face in Faelen’s pillow, his hair in utter disarray. Faelen laughed quietly, barely a breath of sound, unaccountably fond of Maxen at that moment. He was tempted to reach out and smooth his fingers over Maxen’s soft hair, but he didn’t want to wake him. If that was even possible.
Faelen couldn’t find all of his clothing, but what he did hadn’t fared well overnight on the floor. He draped the items over a chair in the corner to deal with later and stole Maxen’s dressing gown off the bench at the foot of the bed. Pulling it on and belting it tightly, he had to stifle a giggle. He looked like a child playing dress up. Shaking his head, he turned up the sleeves a couple of times. It was the best he could do.
The bedchamber door opened silently under his hand, and he slipped out. He walked toward the stairs, dressing gown dragging on the floor. He had to hold it up to keep from falling down the stairs. Was this even sensible? He froze in place on the stairs, just a few steps up from the bottom, paralyzed with indecision. Should he continue on this search for food? Or should he return to the warmth and comfort of Maxen’s bed, Maxen’s arms?
He hadn’t made up his mind when the front door opened, and Tristan walked in.
Tristan saw him immediately and stilled, his expressive face going blank. Faelen bit his lip, a wave of anxiety sweeping through him. Then he straightened his spine. He wasn’t ashamed of spending the night with Maxen, and he wouldn’t act that way in front of Tristan, even if he was Maxen’s older brother.
Tristan seemed to shake himself into action. “Good morning, Faelen.”
“Good morning.”
“Is Maxen awake?”
A blush heated his cheeks. Why did his fair skin flush so easily? “No. He’s still in bed.”
Tristan nodded. “Then it’
ll be a while. Have you eaten breakfast yet?”
“No, I was just…” He gestured vaguely in the direction of the dining room. “Let me get Maxen for you.”
“Don’t bother trying. He’s impossible to wake in the morning.” Tristan gestured toward the dining room as well. “Come eat, and we’ll wait for him.”
“Oh, I…I should dress at least.” What had he been thinking coming down this way in the first place?
“Don’t worry about it. You’re fine.”
Tristan left him with no option except to follow him into the dining room, so Faelen went with as much dignity as he could muster. Tristan looked as comfortable as if the house were still his own, unlike Faelen—his uncertainty was only growing.
They’d just seated themselves when the maid came in. She left a chocolate pot on the table between them and only briefly looked at Faelen. Servants knew everything—always—so Faelen’s presence couldn’t have been a surprise.
He and Tristan were quiet as they poured out chocolate for themselves. Faelen immediately raised his cup to his lips. The chocolate was rich and smooth, and he savored it.
“I see you share Maxen’s love of chocolate.”
Faelen started at the sound of Tristan’s voice after so much silence. “Doesn’t everyone?”
Tristan smiled. “Not really. I like it well enough, but I could easily do without.” He laughed. “Oh, your face! I can tell you’re not quite awake yet because you aren’t controlling your expression the way you usually do.”
“Everyone should like chocolate.” He let himself speak about chocolate, though he wanted to grumble about Tristan’s observation.
Tristan’s smile was so like Maxen’s that it startled Faelen. He loved Maxen’s smile.
“You like your sweets,” Tristan said. “That’s one more thing I know about you, and I’d like to know you better if you and my brother are…”
“I suppose we are.” He hoped they were…whatever the word was, as long as they were together.
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