by T D Cloud
“Do you have friends, Sorin?” Navidae’s wine red gaze cut him to the quick, holding him in place easily. “People you can trust?”
Sorin furrowed his brow, thinking. “I have family,” he said after a minute, the drink slowing things down to a syrup-like crawl. “You have to trust them, though. Friends are… difficult.” He’d had friends once upon a time or so he had thought. It was easy to pretend and easy for them to pretend right on back. You could fight alongside a person for a year and still find yourself abandoned in a town, money stolen, pack ransacked by a so- called friend. Sorin hadn’t tried to be friendly after learning his lesson the hard way. They were complicated, friends. Family could ridicule you to hell and back but they’d still welcome you home with open arms—
Sorin’s eyes went wide when Navidae pitched forward, laughing so hard he half worried he might topple off the sofa.
“Gods, what a blessed existence you humans lead,” he gasped, wiping tears from his eyes. “Family? You can always trust that, can’t you? I can’t even imagine what that must feel like, and yet friends are… Friends are so aggravating.” The Drow spat his words between fits of mirth. “I fuck her, she fucks me— We kept it up even after she married, kept it up for over a century, but it’s now of all times that she finds the prospect inadvisable. A risk to her standing.” Navidae dragged his hands down his cheeks. His laughter subsided with a rueful snort. He looked at Sorin with a smile that came off as more of a grimace. “My oldest friend, the one ally I had always trusted, won’t even fuck me now because of the mess I’ve gotten myself into. Gives me some thin excuse to exclude her from my shame as if she ever cared about the bruises I left on her when I let her cut me to ribbons in return.” He turned his gaze to the ground. “It’s such a mess. Everything. Me included. Gods Below, I’ve fucked everything up.”
Sorin set the empty bottle on the ground slowly. Shit, time for the booze-drop. “Tonight didn’t get you the support you needed, did it?” he guessed, wondering how to comfort someone like Navidae. If even his closest friend had abandoned him to his fate, then there couldn’t be much more they could do to resist what was happening.
“Astute as ever, aren’t you?” Navidae bit without much heat. “I can see now how you managed to make it so long in a business such as yours.”
“Snap at me all you want, it won’t make you feel better.” Sorin glanced around the room, hoping more alcohol might appear within reach. “I am trying to help you here, whether or not you act like it.” When he didn’t see any bottles, he let out a sigh and sagged into the sofa, resigning himself to whatever this was. He just prayed to God that the buzz might last him through the worst of it.
“No one can help me now,” Navidae muttered, proving well enough he wasn’t going to make any of this easy. “Tonight proved it. I’m utterly out of options. No one will believe me if I foist the blame and no one will back me if I tried to do it anyway. She’s got me backed against a wall. It’s just a matter of time until the charges gain enough traction to see me fall.” “Sounds like you’ve given up.” Sorin gave Navidae a judgmental look. The fear from before and the liquor sharpened his tongue. He wasn’t in a mood to argue, but that didn’t mean he felt like putting up with Navidae’s cynicism. “I thought you were going to fight this. That you had ways of getting around obstacles.”
“Don’t act like you know,” Navidae muttered, his eyes burning when he finally looked at Sorin. He leaned in, baring his teeth. “You just— You sit there acting like you know best. Like you know me. You’re just a human. Some stupid, meddling human who has no stake in any of this.”
There was no point in trying to argue with him; Navidae clearly didn’t want to be anything but angry. “I’m not going to fight you, Navidae,” Sorin told him, wrapping his fingers around Navidae’s wrist when it looked as if it might come flying at his head. “I’m clearly not the outlet you want me to be and I’m not drunk enough to pretend to be just so you can have your little tantrum.”
Navidae didn’t seem inclined to agree with that. He snarled and yanked on his trapped hand, raging against everything closing in around him. “You’re as good an outlet as any,” he bit, pressing even closer when he found himself unable to pull away. The heat of him burned Sorin. Everything about this place was cold and dank, uninviting and inhospitable, but Navidae…
Right now Navidae felt as good as sunlight against Sorin’s bare skin.
Sorin blamed himself for thinking with his dick at a time like this, but with Navidae so close and the scent of his skin filling his every sense, it felt only natural to close the distance between them. If he were sober, he might have tried to blame it all on mistaking Navidae for Khouri. But he wasn’t, and Khouri wasn’t here.
Ruby red eyes widened. Sorin didn’t see rejection in their depths. There was a split second of shock before everything clicked into place with the parting of their lips. A hot tongue met his own, and the moment it did was the moment Sorin stopped thinking about anything but the body next to him.
There were far better things to think in that regard. Navidae kissed the way he moved. There was intent, control, an almost frenetic drive that threatened to bowl over any poor soul unprepared for him—which Sorin nearly was—and it was only thanks to instinct that he managed to take him by the hips before Navidae tackled him off the sofa. Even then, it was a close thing. Sorin lost balance and hit the back of the seat with a huff, grunting when Navidae took fistfuls of his hair in hand and made the kiss all the deeper.
It was daunting in a way and a challenge in another. They both had been drinking too much to care either way about grace or skill.
And it felt... good? It felt better than anything Sorin might have imagined, if he had ever imagined something like this to begin with. Navidae’s teeth were sharp but his tongue was just as soft as Khouri’s. It was certainly far braver. It roved around Sorin’s mouth with a need to claim, to dominate, to take back the control he felt himself lacking in the wake of everything going on. Sorin let his hands wander. He mapped out the length of Navidae’s strong back, down his muscled thighs and across his ass. Where Khouri was lean, Navidae was strong. The disparity was heady. He dug his fingers in and savored the low growl it earned him.
When Sorin remembered to open his eyes—eyes he didn’t recall closing—he looked straight into blood red ones.
Navidae’s gaze was intense; this wasn’t the first time Sorin had been put on the spot by it, and it certainly wasn’t the first time he’d ever felt turned on from it. What were they intending to do? Navidae was hard. Sorin could feel the firm length of him rolling against his thigh. Whatever that Drow booze was, it was more than enough to make this feel like a good idea. Even without it Sorin could imagine wanting it anyway.
He wasn’t sure who broke the kiss. He hardly registered it happening until he realized he was gasping for air that didn’t quite sate, watching while Navidae did the same. Despite his dark coloring Sorin could see even darker splotches tinting Navidae’s cheekbones violet. His eyes were glazed, his lips flushed, wet, and a bit swollen. God, he was gorgeous.
“Wow,” Navidae laughed breathlessly, sharp teeth glinting in the low light of the room. “I can’t say I expected that.”
Sorin gave a lazy smirk, grabbing a handful of Navidae’s ass for another pointed squeeze. “You looked like you needed the distraction.” They both did, really. With the heat of the moment tempered, if only for a spell, the weight of the situation was quickly settling back in. Sorin licked at his lips, shivering when he tasted Navidae.
He blamed the booze and it for making him weak.
“Come to the surface with us,” Sorin said, catching Navidae off guard as he tried to fix his mussed hair. The idea was barely even there in his head but saying it gave it strength. “Don’t worry about fixing things here. We can just run above, leave it all behind.” Sorin clutched Navidae’s hips in his hands, wondering why he was so weak for pretty Drow. “I’d show you the ocean too.”
The loo
k Navidae gave him wasn’t quite as pretty as he wanted it to be. It was almost a grimace in fact, and Navidae kept combing through his hair with his fingers, looking anywhere but at Sorin. “You don’t want me to do that,” he said after a minute of terse nothing. “Someone like me doesn’t belong up there.”
Sorin took his wrist in hand, pulling it from his hair. Navidae finally met his eye. It figured that it was only to glare. “No one belongs anywhere,” Sorin said, holding tighter when Navidae tried to jerk himself free, the little control freak. “You make your own home. You can come with us. You don’t have to stay here and play the martyr.”
“I’m too drunk for this,” Navidae muttered, giving up on taking back his hand. “Do you think I haven’t considered it? Do you know what I would give to be able to go with you? To be with Khouri? I can’t, Sorin. I’m not like Khouri. I’m certainly not like you.”
“Is this about the sun thing? You send Drow above to do your dirty work for you all the time,” Sorin reminded him. “If they can do it, so can you. We can get you a hat like Alacrita has and—”
Navidae leaned forward and kissed him silent, and if Sorin knew he had done it for any other reason than to shut him up, he might have enjoyed it more. But Navidae pulled away quickly and averted his eyes, pleasure clearly not the goal in mind.
“You’re such an idiot,” he muttered. “An optimistic fool.
They won’t let me run so easily. They’ll chase me if I try, and if I can find you while you’re away, they can certainly find me when I am.” He met Sorin’s gaze with a fatalistic little laugh. “I don’t belong anywhere but here, Sorin. Even if the sun wouldn’t blind me, I’m still no good to anyone up there.”
“That’s not true,” Sorin murmured, dragging Navidae against his chest. It took no effort to lay down along the too- small sofa, and even less to unbalance Navidae in his tipsy state. “You’d be with Khouri,” he said against Navidae’s lips, staring into his eyes. “And you’d be with me. That’s plenty of good right there.”
“You are the absolute worst.”
Sorin felt the words as they were spoken, and they made him smile as Navidae gave in and kissed him again. It was far easier than talking. Given everything going on, kissing was easier than anything else they’d been through tonight. Easier and better.
God, Navidae was a good kisser. Sorin let go of Navidae’s wrist and wrapped his arms around the man’s waist, melting into it fully.
A hundred years probably gave a man plenty of practice with such things. And when a thigh slipped between Sorin’s legs, pressing just so against his groin, he let out a groan, knowing Navidae knew all sorts of tricks from his long life of seeking pleasure. Sorin ran a hand up Navidae’s back, dragging his loose shirt up with it. Warm, silken skin met his fingertips. Heat rushed through him in a wave when Navidae seemed to purr into the kiss. They were going to do this, weren’t they?
At least, it seemed they were up until the sound of a door opening cut through the need building between them. Sorin opened his eyes when a gasp sounded in the doorway. Navidae went stiff in his arms. The kiss broke, leaving Sorin panting for breath. He had a feeling he knew who had just caught them, and he didn’t need to wait long for his assumption to be proven correct as the Drow straddling him scrambled to sit up.
“Blackbird, what are you doing out of bed?” Navidae pushed Sorin’s face away, frowning at whatever state Khouri was in. Sorin shoved Navidae’s hand away from his eyes and looked for himself. “You aren’t even wearing a robe. Aren’t you cold?”
Khouri didn’t answer. He kept staring at them, at the scene he had walked in on, and cold was the furthest thing he looked as his cheeks began to darken. He took a step closer, arms wrapped around his middle tightly. True to Navidae’s word, he wore only the shirt from before and the bloomers he’d brought back from Mastha’s. Sorin didn’t need to think to know the look was arrestingly pretty.
“What are you two doing?” Khouri breathed, a note of heat in his voice. “I didn’t want you to sleep without me again. But you’re here, getting drunk at a time like this, without me…”
Navidae let out an honest to God snort, flopping down atop Sorin hard enough to punch the breath from him. “Sounds like the little bird feels left out,” he whispered in Sorin’s ear, soft lips teasing the shell and lobe. Whiskey-sweet breath washed over Sorin in a wave; Navidae’s intent became all too clear.
“Can’t have that,” Sorin murmured, turning his gaze to take in Khouri. Beautiful, beautiful Khouri. God, he must be drunker than he thought if he was really thinking of going along with this. He held out his hand and Khouri rushed forward to take it, bringing it to his cheek as if he craved the comfort it offered.
He stroked his thumb over Khouri’s cheekbone, guiding him closer when Khouri dropped to his knees beside the sofa.
“Do you want to play with us, pet?” came the warm croon of Navidae against Sorin’s ear. He had turned just enough to look at Khouri, his thigh still planted between Sorin’s legs in a most distracting manner. “Do you want us to warm you up?”
“Will you really get along long enough for that?” Khouri pouted a little, shivering more and more. “And stay with me?” His eyes still looked red from crying. Sorin ached to see him smile.
“Anything for you,” Sorin said, surprising himself, Navidae, and Khouri too. Embarrassment itched at his cheeks, but he swallowed it down. “Anything at all, Khouri. Even that.”
Khouri sniffed and closed his eyes. Navidae quickly got off of Sorin and joined him on the floor, wrapping his arms around Khouri’s narrow shoulders. “Come on, pet,” he murmured, stumbling a little as he coaxed him to his feet. Sorin was quick to sit up. Too quick in fact. Black rushed his vision and he swayed, blinking away the darkness until Khouri was all he could see.
This was probably a bad idea.
“Carry me?” Khouri whispered, reaching for Sorin slowly, hesitantly. How was he meant to say no to this? To any of this?
Sorin stood up and took Khouri in his arms, nodding for Navidae to lead.
It was probably a bad idea, but he’d definitely made worse.
Chapter Fourteen
Sorin walked fast. His legs were long, his natural patience short. It made him a fast walker. Khouri had noticed that far before this moment had come to pass. He’d notice it when they were above and Sorin far ahead of him, head bowed against the wind and temper flaring as Khouri fought to run after him, always playing catch up with his shorter legs, lighter build. It was an annoyance in those circumstances.
Right now, it wasn’t.
Thank the Gods for Sorin’s long, long legs, and for his natural impatience. The trip to the bedroom was blissfully short because of that. Khouri pressed himself to Sorin’s chest, mouthing at his neck with a fervor he couldn’t even hope to restrain. He was hard already, sweating from the memory of Sorin and Navidae together, laid out on top of one another and attacking the other’s mouth with a ferocity that stirred more than just the mood of the room.
“Put him on the bed,” Navidae ordered somewhere behind them. He sounded winded, harried. Perhaps he had just experienced what Khouri felt so often when traveling above with Sorin. Khouri lifted his head from the crook of Sorin’s neck to see for himself, but before he could manage more than a glimpse of Navidae, he found himself falling. Back, back, back onto the bed, the familiar sheets still mussed and warm from the sleep he’d been pulled from when he’d woken and found himself alone once more. Khouri let out a breath and lifted himself up, taking in the two men hovering at the edge of a precipice.
Navidae was flushed, his eyes practically burning. Sorin, on the other hand, looked as stiff as a board. His eyes were hard and avoidant. The bulge in his trousers gave away his excitement far better than the rest of him did.
Khouri licked at his lips, unsure of what to say or do to move this along in the direction he wanted it to go. It seemed an almost unspoken conclusion, them all sleeping together.
Common sense. He want
ed them both, and clearly the two of them weren’t opposed to the idea either. Khouri closed his hands around the bedding, shifting impatiently when neither made any move to do much of anything.
“Please,” he implored them, his voice weakening towards the end of the word. He met eyes with them both, but it was Navidae who took a step closer and ran a hand through his hair. Sorin inched closer, uncertain but clearly unwilling to be outdone. Khouri gave them both a smile and whispered, “Please. I’ve wanted this for a while now.” Khouri held out his hand to Sorin; the man needed the invitation. “It’s all been a bad dream tonight. Just let me have a good one now. Please.”
Sorin stuttered to life, joining Khouri on the bed. “Alright,” the man breathed, melting into the embrace. Warm hands settled on Khouri’s hips, holding him loosely but close. “Alright, Khouri. I’ve got you,” he said, but Navidae stayed standing.
That just wouldn’t do. Khouri looked past Sorin’s cheek and gave his lover an encouraging look. It just opened up his neck to Sorin’s lips, his tongue. Please, he mouthed silently, looking only at Navidae. If you want it, I want it.
Navidae sighed a fond sigh, shaking his head a little as he stripped off his shirt over his head. “Alright, pet. Let me get some things if you’re so set on doing this,” he muttered as he made for the chest at the foot of the bed.
Sorin looked up at that, tearing himself away from where he’d been kissing Khouri’s nape. He draped himself along the mattress, kicking off his boots as he observed Navidae with narrowed eyes.
“What are you getting?” he asked, suspicion coloring the simple question.
Navidae glanced over the lid of the chest, raising a brow. “If you really have to ask, I’ll have to wonder if you’re an idiot or not.”
Khouri covered his face with his hand. Great. This again. “Please don’t fight,” Khouri said firmly, dragging his hand