Sweet Clematis

by R. Cooper

  “I’ve never had to ask,” Clematis declared archly, which only delighted Flor more. “But will you?” Demanding or begging would have been so much easier.

  “Yes. Duh.” Flor rolled his eyes but then pulled Clematis in close and ran his hands down his arms. He smelled like the flower and coconut shampoo. “I have been waiting. I hated waiting. Never make me do that again. I couldn’t comfort you or hold you or tell you stuff. Lis just kept looking at me with pity. And I knew the first thing you would do when you got fired would be to panic and buy even less food. Let me feed you. Please? On our date, or tonight, or whenever. It would… it would make me feel better.”

  “Was it that bad?” Clematis slid his hands up Flor’s back to rub lightly between his wings.

  Flor melted against him. “It was fine,” he grumbled. “And miserable. But I lived. Don’t be sorry.”

  “I’m not,” Clematis said and realized how true it was. He sighed with too much happiness. “I’m not nice, Flor. I’m not good, how I ask you to say I am. I like knowing you were miserable without me. It means—” He paused to whisper, “—I can believe a little that you won’t go. Are you sure about me? What kind of happiness am I?”

  “My kind.” Flor grunted, only to relax when the caresses around his wings resumed. “I want to tell everyone about you. You don’t want me to leave, and I sure as hell don’t want to go. I don’t know, is that codependent? Are we already one of those couples?”

  Clematis didn’t have any idea of the answer but liked the idea of being any kind of couple with Flor, boyfriends, or friends and lovers. Happiness. “Will you keep me?” A thrill ran down his back. “Lis says I’m hers but that you can have partial custody if you say please when you ask her.”

  A tiny noise of outrage escaped Flor before he jerked back. “Excuse me?” His wings snapped open on the question, only to flap once and then settle calmly. Flor’s eyes were dark and still as he earnestly considered this. “How does she want me to ask?”

  Clematis staggered as all the air left him and he scrabbled to hold on to Flor to keep from falling. He sucked in a gasping breath and put his head down to sob at Flor’s shoulder. He was an idiot, but he couldn’t stop. “I think,” he said, between soft wails and startled, awkward laughs, “I think they’re happy tears this time.” He closed his eyes. “I don’t feel sad. You want me. You’re going to ask Lis for me.” That briefly made it worse. “I never dreamed of this in all the years I loved you.”

  Flor’s arms slowly, carefully, came around him again. “Should I… just let you cry, then?”

  “I don’t know!” Clematis despaired with a stomp of his foot. “This is annoying! I don’t want to cry all over you.”

  “Today’s been a lot,” Flor told him, commiserating in a way that was probably slightly teasing. But he knew how to wrap Clematis in a hug that was just tight enough, so Clematis ignored that for now. He sniffed. Flor petted his hair. “Come on. Let’s go somewhere else. Anywhere but here.”

  Clematis nodded. But he didn’t want to walk across town to get to his apartment or to Flor’s. He didn’t want to see or talk to anyone else. He caught his breath and shuddered for how gentle Flor was. “I know a place,” he revealed quietly, and filled with warmth at how easily Flor accepted that.

  FLOR KEPT twisting the ribbon bracelet between his fingers, tightening it enough to make Clematis’s pulse quicken. But then he’d release it to stroke up and down Clematis’s wrist where the plastic cuff had pinched the skin.

  Flor had used a lot of magic to get the plastic to weaken so it could be pried free. Then he’d thrown the cuff toward the porch of the university president’s house as they’d passed it. She was going to be out for hours to deal with the mess she’d allowed to grow on her campus, he’d said; let her come home to a reminder.

  He’d also thought it amusing that Clematis had brought him to the gardens around the president’s house, which lasted until Clematis walked into a covered grove of oak and laurel and ivy and turned to see if Flor would follow. The light from the house and the rising moon barely reached through the canopy above, but was enough to make the hints of Flor’s bare skin gleam.

  Flor stared at Clematis for a long time, his glitter almost silver in the dim light, then tripped after him to take the hand Clematis offered.

  He still hadn’t completely let go, although they had settled at the base of one of the trees. Clematis was tired, body humming, his eyes dry but stinging. He’d started out curled at Flor’s side, but at some point he’d drifted down to put his head on Flor’s chest. Then Flor had sat up with his back to the tree and his legs bent, and Clematis had given in to the urge to put his head in Flor’s lap.

  The ground was cool. They wouldn’t have much longer before they’d have to leave for someplace warmer. But Flor had one hand in his hair and the other at his wrist, and Clematis was content.

  “So then what?” Flor prompted, hushed. The house was probably empty, but neither of them had spoken in anything above a whisper.

  “Then I blessed her.” Clematis sighed. “I wasn’t planning on it, but she was the sweetest thing. Like you, but more. It wasn’t even her colors. I just knew that she was going to be shiny, and the shiny ones need so much protecting.”

  “You think I’m like a firebird?” Flor briefly stilled. Clematis imagined he was frowning in confusion. “Wait, I don’t need protecting.”

  Clematis turned his head to look at him and opened his eyes, just for a moment. “Flor,” he said softly, “I was so scared out there.”

  Flor immediately glared at the world. “Who do they think they are, scaring beings like that? Scaring you when you would never punch anyone? I am going to find the officer who was in charge of that and—” He stopped to peer at Clematis. He seemed offended. “Are you implying I rush into risky situations when I get mad? And that I need to be protected from myself? I—” Whatever he was trying to deny, he couldn’t get out. Probably because it would have been a lie. “You’re doing the thing again.” Flor huffed finally, but then pulled the bracelet of ribbons taut around Clematis’s wrist. Clematis shivered. “Can’t believe you wore this all week,” Flor said next, surprising him.

  “I like it.” Confessions were easier with his eyes closed. “It makes me think of you and how you wanted to make me smile when you made it for me. And I like when you pull it tight. It feels… solid. Like when you hold my wrists, or when you hug me. I feel held. Secure.” Clematis shivered again. “Safe.”

  “Because I’ll take care of you?” Flor guessed after a minute or so of silence. His voice was rough. “I should get you something better, then. Something that will last.”

  Clematis curled in closer. “Please?”

  “Okay.” Flor was almost shy. “I’ve never done that before. I’ll have to think about what to do. I want to do everything right with you. Which I know is impossible, but you deserve it.” Clematis shook his head, only slightly, but Flor noticed. “I’ll make you say it,” Flor threatened, in a tone that made Clematis dizzy. “Don’t think I won’t.”

  “I deserve to be happy,” Clematis gasped immediately, his pulse throbbing against the pink ribbon. “I deserve Flor.”

  He opened his eyes and knew they were filled with stars.

  Flor’s gaze was warm. “Good. You’re so good.” He brushed his fingertips over Clematis’s parted lips, then his cheeks. “No tears for that? I’ll be a little sad when they’re gone. If those art students had ever seen you sparkling in the moonlight, they would never have let you go.”

  “You’re always worried about those art students.” Clematis could not make his heartbeat slow, not with Flor watching him like that. “I haven’t modeled in years.”

  “Well, if I’m looking back on the whole thing, I’d say I was jealous.” Flor wrinkled his nose adorably. “Artists are supposed to be like seers. But they had you, and all they focused on was how humans see fairies—which is not how fairies are—and your body. Which is very nice,” he added, when Clema
tis started to pout. “But it’s not what they should have seen. What I should have seen.” Flor was suddenly unusually hesitant. “Clematis? Someday, when you’re ready, will you tell me how we met?”

  Clematis squeezed his eyes shut and turned his face away.

  “I’m sorry.” Flor tucked his hair behind his ears for him. “I’ve been trying to remember, but the earliest thing I can think of is seeing sketches and paintings of you in one of the student art shows and knowing that they were wrong. They’d gotten you all wrong.”

  “You were with David.” Clematis spoke haltingly. “You were in love with him. And I couldn’t manage a word around you. There’s not much to remember.” He swallowed. “I know you love David and always will. I’m not bothered by it. As long as you saw me, I was okay. It was that you’d only ever look at me when you were mad. I could never get past that. I didn’t know how to make you want me. After a while I stopped trying. I never expected to be your friend.”

  Flor cleared his throat and then sniffled noisily. Clematis looked up to see Flor with sparkles in his eyelashes.

  “And Tulip?” Flor asked thickly. “Did he know that? Am I your curse?”

  “No.” Clematis raised himself up onto his hands and knees. “All Tulip knew was that I was scared. He gave me what I was scared of. Or made me think he did. I don’t really know how it works, but today, when I saw the firebird and I said those things, I thought of him.” Flor still looked distressed. Clematis shook his head and then climbed over Flor’s lap to take his face in his hands.

  Flor held his breath. Clematis studied the black of his eyes and the stubborn tilt in his chin and his sweet, giving mouth. “Almost the moment Tulip said those words I ran to you, and you saw me and stayed with me. I should have known then what Tulip had done wasn’t a curse at all, not how people think.” Flor made a small sound, sad and longing, so Clematis kissed him. A short, soft kiss that made Clematis sigh as he drew back. “It was a blessing. This is a blessing, Flor.” He almost laughed, but it would have been slightly bitter. Tulip was smarter than all of them.

  Flor wrapped his arms around him and pulled him in, and Clematis ended up in Flor’s lap, with his wings to Flor’s chest and Flor breathing hard at the back of his neck. Flor held him like that for a long time before letting go. Long enough for Clematis to close his eyes and wriggle down to get more comfortable.

  He could feel Flor moving every once in a while, tugging on something or shifting in place, but the week had been strange, and the day even more so, and he was so tired of everything but Flor, that staying where he was for a few more hours sounded amazing. He would get hungry soon, and cold, but Flor would wake him, if it came to that.

  “It’s kind of rough.” Flor abruptly broke the silence seconds before placing something gently on top of Clematis’s head. “I’ll make a better one later.”

  Clematis blinked a few times before inching forward, and then whatever it was fell crookedly over one ear and partly into his face. He saw part of one dark green, star-shaped leaf, and his mouth fell open in surprise.

  “I didn’t have a lot within reach, and nothing to really tie it together,” Flor explained in a hurry. “And it’s dark. But I was thinking ivy before, and since I had some….”

  “What—” Clematis spoke in a rasp. “What does ivy mean?”

  “Affection.” Flor adjusted the crown for him. “Friendship.” He lowered his voice. “Love. The faithful, wedded, happy kind. Are you going to cry again?”

  It was very possible. Maybe he was already crying.

  Clematis stared into the dark for another moment, then turned around to straddle Flor’s lap. Flor uncurled his legs to let him. “You’re going to keep me?” Clematis asked, to be sure.

  Flor’s nervous look instantly became a scowl. “I’m going to keep you so hard. There will be no doubt you are loved.”

  Clematis fluttered his wings open. He felt… he felt beautiful.

  “I’ll give you anything,” he promised. “Anything you want.”

  Flor exhaled harshly and lifted his chin. “You can make me do anything,” he countered, then groaned. “You even made me leave you. Nothing else could have.”

  Clematis slowly rose up onto his knees, then leaned forward to put his hands on either side of Flor. He dug his fingers into the bark while Flor devoured the sight of him. “You could have me. Right here,” Clematis offered, close enough to feel Flor’s breath.

  “We don’t have anything. You were sore last time,” Flor protested softly but slid his palms over Clematis’s hips and untied the sleeves of his sweatshirt so it fell away. “I was sore last time,” he added, as though Clematis hadn’t heard his complaints about chafing in the moments before he’d healed and the pain had faded.

  “You took me like a fairy,” Clematis reminded him in whispers against his mouth. “Like they would have done in the forests before humans found us. Like a fairy tale.”

  “It was in a bathroom,” Flor pointed out breathlessly, his hands at Clematis’s fly. “Hardly a forest.”

  “A garden could do. There are trees and the moonlight. I could be naked for you.” Clematis inched back and shivered at the intensity of Flor’s stare. Clematis pushed out his bottom lip, then slouched down petulantly, just a little. “You gave me a crown. What else will you give me?”

  “So many things,” Flor promised instantly. He thought of Clematis as fairy, as dangerous, but he made that promise anyway.

  Clematis felt the air stir around them. Glitter swirling and mingling in the shadows at the edge of his vision. Flor watched his mouth. Clematis shook his head.

  “That isn’t what I want.” He had dirt and scraps of tree bark on his palm, but he cupped Flor’s cheek and stared into his dark, dark eyes. “Flor,” he murmured, too far away for a kiss. “Flor, please.”

  “Anything.” Flor leaned forward, trying to erase the distance. “Anything you want, sweetheart. You know that.”

  Clematis closed his eyes. “I make you say that. No one else.”

  Flor pushed away from the tree enough to wrap his arms around Clematis and draw them back together. “Yes.” He kissed Clematis’s shoulder and the side of his neck. “You don’t want Sasha. You want me.”

  Clematis tangled a hand in his hair. “Flor.” It took effort to stay up, his legs weak like he’d been edged for too long. He tipped his head back and the ivy slid into place at his crown, tickling his ears. “You’ll keep me.”

  “That crown, it—” Flor pushed Clematis’s jeans down and spread his fingers over the curve of his ass. “I’m yours, sweetheart. I get to be yours. And you’ll give me so much.” Clematis pushed back into his hands with a soft whine. Flor got Clematis’s pants down to his thighs before returning to squeezing his ass. “Going to buy you a fanny pack and it’s going to be filled with lube and candy at all times. Maybe fruit. I don’t know. Highlighters and paper clips and coupons. How’s that for a sugar daddy?”

  Clematis froze for a moment. “People will make fun of a fanny pack.”

  Flor stopped sucking fleeting marks onto his shoulder. “I don’t give a fuck. A fanny pack and—what do you want, buttercup? A cuff? I’ll get you that too.”

  “To hold tight when you fuck me?” Clematis sighed with pleasure. “Will you fuck me now? Like I’m your fairy?”

  A tiny growl escaped Flor before Flor pulled him down for a kiss. The flower tumbled from behind his ear and fell between them. Clematis had never asked what it meant. Maybe it didn’t matter. Flor certainly didn’t miss it.

  Flor ran his hands over Clematis’s nearly naked body as if needing him even closer. “My Clematis,” Flor told him fiercely, fingers starting to tease in a way that meant yes, he would give Clematis everything. Flor kissed him until Clematis’s lips were swollen. He held him tight and Clematis believed suddenly, with all of his newfound heart, that Flor would not let him go. “Sweet Clematis.” Flor gave him another kiss, softer, and he was so beautiful Clematis began to cry again. Flor slowed his hand
s and nuzzled his wet cheek and then pulled back to show Clematis his smile. “My fairy.”

  Clematis touched him, touched Flor, who was so good. Then he kissed his pretty face, a silly, stupid kiss on the tip of his nose. “My fairy,” he agreed in a stunned, happy whisper. “My Flor.”

  Epilogue

  CLEMATIS HELD his breath until the car was in Park. Then he turned off the engine and took out the keys. “Sorry,” he apologized automatically, although the tires hadn’t even brushed the spotlessly clean curb. The suburbs were weird. “Driving still makes me nervous. I don’t do it much.”

  Flor patted his hand. Clematis turned to see him smiling as he shoved his collection of snacks into a backpack. “We got here. You did good. You were very good.”

  Clematis knew his face was going pink from how satisfied Flor got. Flor unbuckled his seat belt and uncurled his body from where he’d been wedged against the center console. Then he leaned over to buss a soft kiss over Clematis’s burning cheek. “Very good,” he said again, so pleased, Clematis wanted to blow him right there. Honestly, it would have helped with his nerves.

  It was quiet in the suburbs. Traffic was distant. Every streetlight probably worked. Driveways were filled with identical family-size vehicles. Nearly every yard around them had a lawn of trimmed green grass or flowers bordered by white picket fences. The only yard that didn’t was the one in front of them, an overgrown array of bushes and vines and two fruit trees that had likely been designed to look carelessly abundant by Flor or his parents. Glass sculptures peeked out from the greenery. A wooden sign hanging from one tree invited people to help themselves to the cherries and plums whenever they were available.

  The hints of Flor in this yard were both the reason Clematis could relax at all and the reason he was nervous in the first place.

  He reminded himself that he had agreed to this, and why. It didn’t take away any of the butterflies in his stomach.