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kingofsummer93 · 11 months ago

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Once Cursed, Twice Shy

Part 1 of my gift to @velidewrites for @acotargiftexchange!

Summary:

Don't mix vodka and magic, they said. It will end badly, they said.

Elain's never been particularly superstitious, but when a ghost from her past comes crashing back into her life, she realizes that the old saying might have been true after all.

And that she might have (accidentally and definitely not on purpose) cursed her ex-boyfriend.

Inspired by the Ex Hex by Rachel Hawkins.

Chapter 1: A Fateful Spark, an Ill-Timed Blaze

Ao3

Ten years previously

A clap of thunder rang out over the town of Maple Glen, followed by a torrential downpour so sudden it seemed as though the sky had singled out their little village to bear the brunt of its ire.

Elain sighed, burrowing further into the couch under her nest of blankets and pillows. She envied the storm, at that moment. What she wouldn’t give to be able to dump her hurt and anger into the world for a couple hours before being reborn, fresh and dewy, her broken heart melded back together by sunshine as her memories faded like a clearing sky.

She sighed, and the storm raged on as if in answer.

“Do you ever wish you were born as something else?” she asked, swirling the dregs of her bright blue cocktail around in her glass. “Like, a bird, or a tree, or, or…”

Vassa let out a noise that was halfway between a snort and a hiccup. “There it is.”

“There is what?”

“The philosophical stage of your drunk journey. I thought we passed it two drinks ago. First we have affectionate Elain, then loud Elain, followed with a brief appearance by pensive Elain, and then-”

Elain grabbed a throw pillow and chucked it at her friend, who nearly toppled off her end of the couch as she ducked to avoid it. Perhaps they were a bit drunk.

“I mean it,” Elain pressed, draining her glass. “Trees don’t have to worry about dumb boys, or school, or finding a job. They just…” She held out her arms and lifted her head to the ceiling, wriggling her fingers around like leaves in the wind. “Hang out and bask in the sunshine.”

“Babe,” Vassa said drily, “trees get cut down and then get sawed up into building materials or burned or whatever. Dumb boys are the least of their worries.”

Perhaps it was the vodka’s fault, but for some reason this seemed incredibly sad to Elain. Her throat closed up, her eyes suddenly burning with unshed tears.

“Oh no.” Vassa flapped her hands around in a panic, her mirth gone. “Oh shit, what did I say?”

“Lucien had a tree house growing up.” The words bubbled out of her mouth before she could stop them. “He told me his oldest brother helped him build it. And then one day he went out to the forest and discovered that the section of the woods with his tree house had been cut down. Something about tree rot.”

“See,” Vassa said wisely as she refilled both their glasses from a pitcher. “And that’s why you don’t want to be a tree.”

Elain snorted, wiping the tears from her face with an already damp corner of her blanket. She’d shed so many tears in the past two days that she was shocked she hadn’t dried up like a raisin yet.

“Fuck him,” Vassa continued. “He doesn’t deserve a treehouse- or any house, for that matter. He can live on the streets for all I care.”

Elain pictured it for a moment; Lucien’s long fiery hair grown even longer from years of living as a vagabond, a scraggly beard not quite covering his devilish grin. Perhaps he’d live in the woods, in a little cave with a mattress made of leaves and moss. The image didn’t repulse her as much as it should have.

Suddenly she was enraged.

This had been her refrain for the past three days, ever since she had so unceremoniously thrown him out of her apartment. Moments of deep grief when it seemed like she’d never stop crying were followed by rage so intense it felt like her blood was on fire.

The same fire that ran through his veins, the flame that she had found so utterly irresistible.

Her gaze moved against her will, landing on the box sitting in a corner near the door. She’d been studiously avoiding it, torn between the satisfaction she’d get at throwing it out, and the desire to keep a piece of him close, if only for a little while longer.

It was irrational, but that box of stuff had somehow become a physical reminder of him, and getting rid of it would be like cutting the final thread that tethered him to her. Not to mention that a small part of her brain still hoped that he would come back, that somehow it would turn out to all be a misunderstanding.

That he would choose her, against all odds, in defiance of the path that had been laid out for him.

Perhaps even more humiliating than the rejection itself had been the deception. Because he had known- for the entirety of the summer he had spent tangled up in bed with her, whispering that she was the one, making her burn in a way she had never even dreamed possible, he had known it wouldn’t last. It couldn’t last, because by the end of the summer he was due back in England, where his betrothed waited for him.

The fucker had been engaged the entire time and hadn’t bothered sharing that information with her.

But the worst thing of all had been the way she’d so thoroughly fallen for him. Every touch, every whispered word had seemed so sincere that she’d never once questioned his devotion. What a fool she’d been. Perhaps if he had been honest with her from the start she would have allowed him to fall into her bed, but not into her heart.

Or better yet, she would have steered clear of Lucien Vanserra altogether.

Elain could still picture the moment she’d first laid eyes on him during the Summer Solstice festival. Vassa had bullied her into setting up a kissing booth (a venture that had turned out to be quite lucrative) and they’d had a steady stream of customers all morning. Around midday the energy in the crowd had shifted, like a ripple in a pond. And then the crowd had shifted, parting like the sea.

And he had appeared. Tall, his golden skin practically glowing in the summer sun, his shoulder-length hair so vividly red she immediately knew he was a witch. No human could ever look like that. He had locked eyes with her from a distance, and it had felt to Elain like she was being set on fire.

“Who is that?” she stage-whispered to Vassa, who had just given their elementary school math teacher a wholesome peck on the cheek for the sum of five dollars.

“Who?” Vassa followed her gaze, and her eyes went wide, her hand clamping painfully around Elain’s wrist.

“Ow!”

“I think he’s one of the Vanserras,” Vassa whispered, slightly awed. “He’s got to be, look at that hair.”

A smile quirked up the corner of the handsome stranger’s mouth, and Elain wondered absurdly if he had somehow heard. The Vanserras were a powerful magical family, and nobody knew the true depth of their power. She wouldn’t be surprised if they had unnaturally powerful hearing.

“I’ve never seen him before,” Elain said, stupidly. She felt slightly dazed as she continued to stare into his eyes, as if she was physically incapable of looking away.

In truth she had never seen any of them before.

Hundreds of years ago, a man called Thelor Vanserra had founded Maple Glen and tied his magic to the village. Magic ran strong here- for those who knew where to look, that is. Tourists simply assumed they had stumbled upon a particularly charming village, where commerce always boomed and disaster never struck.

But the truly odd thing about Maple Glen was the fact that it never snowed, despite being far enough north that it should by all reason get buried under snow every winter. It was like the town was stuck in perpetual autumn, with only a few weeks of balmier weather in the spring and summer. Nobody questioned it, assuming Maple Glen simply existed in a peculiar micro-climate.

It was a wonder how far people would go to avoid seeing magic, even when it existed right under their noses.

Twice a year, on Summer Solstice and Winter Solstice, a member of the Vanserra bloodline would come to town in order to regenerate the magic for the coming season before disappearing back to England. They were notoriously reclusive and haughty, and were rarely seen around town- much less strolling through a crowded festival.

“I always pictured them scrawny and inbred,” Vassa had said, surreptitiously fixing her hair.

The crooked grin on the stranger’s face widened, and Elain’s stomach dropped. He had definitely heard that.

And then he started walking towards them.

Elain froze, her stomach roiling with equal parts thrill and fear. Would he curse them? It didn’t seem likely, judging from the amusement on his face, but she squirmed nonetheless.

When he was a few paces away from their booth he paused, his eyes still fixed on her. From this close Elain could make out the color of his eyes- a warm brown, tinged russet, as if kissed by the flame his bloodline was rumored to wield. His features were sharp and elegant, his wide jaw covered with the barest hint of auburn stubble. There was a thin, crooked scar running down the left side of his face that, combined with the devilish gleam in his eyes, gave him an aura of danger. It sent a shiver down Elain’s spine, and she felt momentarily struck dumb, as if by magic.

“My lady,” he said, inclining his head. The motion made a strand of his vibrant hair fall over his face, and Elain’s fingers itched to brush it back.

Vassa giggled beside her. Elain had never, in her nineteen years of life, heard her friend make such a sound. She bit her lip hard to prevent herself from doing the same.

“If I walked through fire for you, could I get a kiss too?”

Vassa made a choked sound that sounded as though she was holding in another giggle. Elain could only stare for a moment, before realizing that she was staring at him with her mouth hanging wide open.

“I- sorry, what?”

With a casual wave of his hand a wall of flame had burst to life out of thin air. Elain jumped to her feet, scanning the crowd for signs of anyone having noticed the blatant display of magic. But oddly enough, nobody at all was looking at them. It was almost as if some force was making the crowd look away.

She glanced back at the flames just in time to see him walk through them. Surrounded by flames, with that troublesome grin on his face and his eyes twinkling with mirth, it almost seemed like she was being bewitched by the devil himself.

In the end it turned out to be not too far from the truth.

The summer romance that had followed had completely knocked her off her feet. Lucien was nothing like the boys she’d dated before. There was something charmingly old-fashioned about the way he spoke, his impeccable manners and posh accent so at odds with his serpentine tongue and devilish humour. He had felt like a drug, something decadent and rare that left her buoyant and giddy. She’d been hooked from her first taste, her fate sealed the moment he’d walked through those flames and pressed a feather-soft kiss directly to her lips. She’d let those flames consume her.

But the thing with fire, she’d learned, was that it could be doused in an instant.

Elain wondered if he ever would have said anything at all, had that vision not infiltrated her dreams. Would he simply have left her apartment and gotten on a plane back to Yorkshire without so much as a goodbye, never to be heard from again?

They had been lying in bed when the vision had swarmed her senses, limbs tangled together, a lazily swirling fan doing little to cool their heated skin. There was never any logic or reason to what triggered her visions, but something about that hazy veil between consciousness and sleep seemed to make her prone to them. One unclear reality being replaced by another, images fogging her mind so that sometimes she wasn’t sure if they were visions, dreams, or nothing at all.

But that night, as she’d laid there happy and content, blissfully uncaring about anything but the present, the future had decided to make itself known to her anyway. At first she thought she was simply drifting off into dreams of him, and she had sighed, grateful to be with him even in sleep.

Her blood had grown cold as she’d realized the Lucien in her mind was not alone, and nor was his soft smile aimed at her. There was someone else, someone with long rosewood-colored tresses and hazel eyes that shone almost golden, like a cat’s. Someone who was wearing a white dress, wrapped in the arms of the man currently in her bed.

Someone who was decidedly not her.

At first she’d chosen to ignore it. Perhaps it wasn’t a vision at all, but simply her lust-addled brain playing tricks on her. But then Lucien had announced that he needed to fly back home for a while, to take care of some business.

“I’ll be back before you notice I’m gone,” he assured her, his mouth pressed to her ear. “You won’t even miss me.”

In the span of a few seconds he had managed to rip her heart out and rip it to shreds. She’d been so stunned that at first she didn’t know how ro react.

“I’m sorry, Love,” he murmured, misunderstanding her shock as displeasure. “There’s some things with…my family, that I need to handle in person.”

Something about his choice of words had made Elain want to laugh, even as she was fighting rising tides of panic and heartbreak.

“Who is she?” had been the only words she’d been able to formulate.

Lucien stared at her in shock, the color draining from his skin until she knew for certain she hadn’t miscalculated.

Then had come the accusations, the excuses, the explanations, followed by more accusations.

He was engaged.

Betrothed had been the word he’d used, like something out of those romance novels her sister liked. He was betrothed to a stranger he’d never even met, someone he allegedly had no intention of marrying. He was going back to end it, he claimed. He wanted her, he assured.

“I didn’t want to say anything at first because I didn’t know what this thing was between us, and then when it became serious it felt like it was too late, and I didn’t know what to do, and please, Elain, just look at me…”

She had, and something about seeing him like this, his usual smooth exterior replaced by rambling words and eyes wide with panic, almost made her break. But then she’d remembered the woman in her vision, the one with such unusual colouring that she could only be a witch- and a powerful one, if she had been betrothed to a Vanserra. And most of all, she remembered the joy on Lucien’s face in that vision, the way his eyes had crinkled around the edges like they did when he was happy.

In retrospect, throwing his clothes out the window had perhaps been a tad immature, but it had been effective in getting him to shut up and leave her apartment.

Elain shook her head, clearing away the memories that refused to leave her alone.

“You know what,” she declared, slamming her glass on the coffee table with a clang, “let’s burn his stuff.”

Vassa whooped, jumping to her feet before Elain could second guess her decision. Fuck him. Fuck him and his beautiful fiancé (bethrothed) who no doubt had the perfect pedigree and wielded some powerful brand of magic to match the Vanserra’s. Something respectable, like elemental magic, or a knack for spell work. Not something weird and impossible to understand like her Sight.

“Fuck him,” she said again, getting to her feet. “Fuck her!”

“That’s the spirit!”

Vassa upended the box into their fireplace, lifting up a cloud of dust, ash, and various herbs from an ill-advised cleaning spell they’d tried to cast the week before. “Care to do the honors?” she asked, extending a box of matches towards Elain.

Elain took a shuddering breath as she looked at the sad little pile of ashy belongings. Clothes, a few books, thin leather straps Lucien had used to tie his hair back. Straps he’d once used to bind her wrists together as he-

Elain struck the match so aggressively that it snapped clean in half. The second one lit, the little flame seeming to mock her as it danced near the tips of her fingers.

The fire was slow to catch, smoking pathetically as it tried to crawl along the pile of fabric and books. And then it grew, until their faces warmed by the heat of the flames. Elain very pointedly ignored the fact that Lucien could summon flames ten times this size without so much as blinking.

“We curse you, Lucien Vanserra!” Vassa declared, stirring the flames with a poker.

“I hope you burn in hell,” Elain mumbled.

Vassa cackled. “He’d probably be happy there. Let him rot somewhere his flame can’t catch.”

Elain might have imagined it, but just for a moment the fire seemed to grow brighter in the hearth.

“And may his betrothed be frigid in bed!” Vassa added with another cackling laugh. Once again the flames flashed hotter, almost blue.

“And may she break his heart, just like he did mine,” Elain added sadly.

It seemed like she was speaking directly to the flames themselves, and for a second they appeared to wink in response. She blinked, and shook her head against a wave of disorientation. Merlin, she was drunk.

A flash of lightning lit up the night sky outside, followed by another rumble of thunder that made them both jump. With a mechanical groaning the lights inside the apartment blinked off, leaving them sitting there in the dark.

Vassa groaned. “Damn it, power’s out again.”

But Elain’s attention was still on the fire- or, more accurately, on the space where it should have been. In the space where moments before flames had danced merrily, there was now only a fine layer of ash, all traces of Lucien’s belongings having vanished, like the flames, into thin air.

Elain gulped. “Vassa? I think we might have done something bad.”

#elucien #elucien fanfic #acotar gift exchange #it's a holiday romcom folks #low plot heavy shenanigans #Lucien VanCursed

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goforth-ladymidnight · 15 days ago

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A Second Chance, Ch. 15

@praetorqueenreyna @thrumbolt @achaotichuman @northern-polaris @taymartiart @zivotzaruzi (Please let me know if you'd like to be tagged or untagged.)

I feel like I owe each one of you an apology for that last cliffhanger. I hope this chapter makes up for it. ❤️

Pairing: Tamlin x Lucien

Word Count: 7.7k (It's a long one!)

Summary: Tamlin and Lucien have a much needed heart-to-heart

Read on AO3, or read on below:

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stick around?” Jurian had asked as Tamlin unfastened his seat belt. “I don’t want you to be stranded or anything.”

“I’m sure,” Tamlin had said, not sounding sure at all. “Besides, I don’t know how long it’s going to take. I don’t want to keep you waiting.”

“Do you even know what you’re going to say?”

Tamlin sighed, curling his fingers around the door handle. “Not yet.”

Jurian’s thumb tapped against the steering wheel as he looked away. “Yeah. Me, neither.”

They sat in silence for a long moment, even though it was going to snow soon. The sky was heavy with it. The only question was whether it was going to be the sort of storm you made hot cocoa for before snuggling under the covers with a loved one, or if it was the sort of storm where you prayed that the roads were still open afterwards.

“I hope…” Tamlin trailed off, because he wasn’t quite sure what to hope for. That Vassa would be understanding? That Lucien would hear him out? That they would all live happily ever after?

“Yeah,” Jurian sighed, as if he knew what Tamlin was thinking. “Me, too.”

They nodded solemnly at each other before Tamlin gathered the courage to open the door and step out into the cold.

He was braced for a storm… He just didn’t know what kind it was going to be.

Looking at Lucien now, standing in his apartment, Tamlin still wasn’t sure… but he could hope.

“Can we talk?” he asked softly.

Lucien looked like he was on the verge of tears, and Tamlin didn’t blame him. They hadn’t parted under the fondest of circumstances. “Yeah,” Lucien squeaked, then cleared his throat. “Do you… do you want to sit down, or…?”

Tamlin wet his lips. “I’ve been sitting for a while,” he admitted. “I wasn’t sure when you were coming back, and I didn’t want to assume I was still welcome, so…”

“Of course you are,” Lucien declared, taking a step forward, then flinched back. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I’m sorry for a lot of things. I… I shouldn’t have—”

Tamlin stopped him. “It’s okay,” he said quickly, then shook his head. “I mean, not really—” He noticed Lucien’s wince. “—But I know why you did it.” He sighed and shook his head. “I’m just… I’m so fucking scared.”

Lucien’s head jerked back. “You’re scared? Why?”

Tamlin swallowed hard, then gestured to the chairs. “Maybe we should sit down,” he said hoarsely.

“Okay.” Lucien didn’t even stop to take off his coat before joining Tamlin in one of the easy chairs in front of the fire.

While Tamlin appreciated the space, he also missed sharing the same piece of furniture with his boyfriend… Come to think of it, were they still boyfriends? Or had he ruined everything by lashing out? It wouldn’t be the first time… but he couldn’t think about that now.

Tamlin took a deep breath, then braced his arms on his knees and wrung his hands and watched the flames dance through the grate.

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” he told Lucien quietly. “You know, about what you said, about your brother taking on my case. It’s not that I don’t want his help, but… what if no one believes me?”

“I believe you,” Lucien tried to interject, then apologized for interrupting.

Tamlin nodded sadly. “I know, but… Amarantha convinced everyone that I had a mental breakdown. She could spin this story any way she wanted. Maybe I tried drugging her and ended up drugging myself. Or… after I met her, I became obsessed, and that’s why I tried breaking into her house.”

Lucien sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. “I won’t lie. There is a chance that she could try that. It doesn’t mean that it would work, but that’s just how trials go sometimes. Reasonable doubt, and all that.”

“You know what’s worse than that, though?” Tamlin murmured.

“What?”

Tamlin’s throat tightened. “What if I have a kid?” he whispered. “What if Amarantha got exactly what she wanted: A baby with blond hair and green eyes and musical ability and god knows what else. They’d be about six years old, now.”

He shook his head, because he could picture it all too well.

“If I take her to court and I lose, what’s next? Will she sue me for failing to pay child support?” he went on. “I can’t afford that. I can barely afford to take care of myself, and that’s with Jurian’s help…” He sighed. “What if she wants me to have court-ordered visitation, or even give our kid music lessons? Ugh. Even saying that makes me sick.”

He wiped his mouth. “I never wanted this. But… I don’t want my kid to feel unwanted, either.”

Lucien gave him a sad look. “Do you have any idea if Amarantha actually has a kid, or…?”

“No. I made Jurian promise that he would never tell me if he knew, or even let me find out. I mean, I’ve wondered, from time to time, because working for a private investigator makes it so easy, but… Honestly, I try not to think about it.”

Lucien just stared at him, and Tamlin dropped his head in shame.

“It sounds crazy, I know,” he muttered. “I don’t even know if this kid exists. I could be getting all worked up over nothing… Maybe I have lousy sperm, I don’t know.”

“Tam.”

The seriousness of Lucien’s tone made him pause. “What?”

Lucien cocked his head. “You don’t have lousy sperm. I promise.” He raised his eyebrows and smirked.

Tamlin stared at him, uncomprehending, then when it hit him, he covered his mouth with his hand to smother his snort. “That wasn’t supposed to make me feel better.”

Lucien’s lips still twitched even as he shrugged. “It’s true, though.”

Tamlin’s smile faded, however, and he ran a hand over his hair and rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks, but… it doesn’t change the fact that I’m still scared.”

“It’s okay to be scared,” Lucien said gently. “I’d be scared, too.”

Tamlin face grew warm as he stared at the tops of his shoes. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I know you were just trying to help.”

“Please. Don’t apologize—”

“No. I have to,” Tamlin insisted, and lifted his head. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I don’t want to lose you.”

“Tam…” Lucien got up only to get down on his knees in front of Tamlin’s chair. With his big brown eyes gazing up at him and his auburn hair framed by firelight, he looked like a prince from a fairy tale. He placed a gentle hand on Tamlin’s knee. “I told you before, and I’ll tell you again: I’m not going anywhere.”

Tamlin blinked back sudden tears.

“I should have told you from the start,” Lucien said ruefully. “You know, about Eris taking on your case. I just thought that… Actually, it doesn’t matter what I thought. I should have known you weren’t ready for this. And you know what? It’s okay if you’re never ready. It’s okay to just move on. No matter what you decide, I’ll support you one hundred percent. I promise.”

Tamlin sniffed, and wiped his wet cheek. “You promise?”

Lucien nodded. “And if you need space, I’ll give you that, too. Whatever you want.”

Tamlin managed a deep breath, then took Lucien’s hand as he stood, pulling him to his feet. “I don’t want space,” he said quietly.

Lucien’s eyes searched his. He seemed so hopeful that Tamlin wanted to think he was already forgiven, but he had to make sure.

Still, he felt almost… shy, holding Lucien’s hand like a gawky teenager instead of the grown man that he was. Even though they had just had hot gay sex just the night before. Embarrassed about what he was about to say next, he dropped his gaze to their joined hands and whispered, “Can… can we go back to being boyfriends now?”

“Did you think we weren’t?”

Tamlin’s face flushed. “After I lost my temper, I wasn’t sure…”

Lucien squeezed his fingers. “You had every right to be mad at me,” he said gently. “And yeah, I was worried you never wanted to see me again, but… I never stopped wanting to be your boyfriend.”

“Neither did I.”

“Good.” Lucien reached up to tuck Tamlin’s hair behind his ear, then smiled when he met his gaze. “Seven hours apart is nothing,” he teased gently. “Let’s just make sure it doesn’t turn into another seven years, okay?”

Tamlin nodded, his throat strangely tight. “Okay.”

Lucien leaned in halfway, then hesitated, but Tamlin knew what he wanted, because he wanted that, too. When he brought his lips to Lucien’s mouth, their kiss was almost chaste in its softness, but it lingered in its longing.

“Thank you,” Lucien breathed, as though in prayer.

“For what,” Tamlin whispered, as though they were in a church.

“For forgiving me. For keeping secrets from you. I know I shouldn’t have…”

Tamlin sighed, and reluctantly pulled away, but not far enough away to drop Lucien’s hand. “It’s not like I haven’t been keeping secrets, too,” he admitted, albeit reluctantly.

Lucien’s lips pursed into a tight smile. “Well, you trusted me with your biggest one, and I went and told my brothers and my mom, so…”

“You told your mom?”

Lucien winced. “Yeah. Alex and I went to see her after… after what happened this morning. For what it’s worth,” he added quickly, “she’s on your side in all this. She thinks Amarantha should rot in hell, if not prison, and she said I shouldn’t have done anything behind your back, even if I meant well.”

Tamlin sighed. That was some comfort, at least. “How is she?”

“My mom? She’s good. Great, actually. Here—” Lucien dropped his hand to rush for the bags he’d dropped by the door. “—She made cookies. I hope you like gingerbread. Oh! And I got you another Christmas present. Two of them, actually. Merry Hanukkah, Tam.”

Tamlin took a half-step back as Lucien pressed three bags into his arms.

“This is all for me?” he said numbly.

“Of course!”

“But… I yelled at you…”

Lucien waved dismissively. “I bought these before that. Then afterwards, I wasn’t sure when I would be able to give them to you, so they’re not wrapped or anything—”

“Lu…”

“—I hope you don’t mind. I still have—let’s see—five gifts left to give you. Four, if you count the cookies—”

“Lucien.”

Lucien stopped, startled. “What?”

Tamlin gave him a wincing smile. “You don’t have to do this.”

Lucien’s shoulders slumped a bit. “But I want to. You’re so special to me… I just want to show you how I feel…”

Tamlin’s face flushed in shame. “I just… I don’t deserve it.”

“Sure you do—”

“No. I don’t.”

Lucien looked truly confused, and somewhat hurt, too. “Why not?”

Tamlin took a deep breath, then gently set his gifts on the chair behind him. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate what you’ve done,” he said slowly, then wrung his hands. “I told you I had secrets, but what happened seven years ago is only part of it.”

Lucien’s eyes widened. “There’s more?”

Tamlin raised a shoulder and let it fall. “I think I’m the reason your last boyfriend broke up with you.”

Lucien looked at him askance. “Huh?”

“Well, you know I work for a private eye, right?”

“Yeah… And?”

Tamlin took a deep breath. “So about three years ago, your dad hired Jurian to take pictures of some woman who was dating one of his sons.” He made air quotes with his fingers. “‘Jesminda.’ I didn’t know she was a drag queen. He? I don’t know. I just know that I didn’t want to be involved, because I knew you, or at least I used to, and I just couldn’t face you. Even if you never saw me.”

Lucien’s brows furrowed as he crossed his arms, but he remained silent.

Tamlin had to finish his story, and quickly. “Anyway, I made Jurian do it alone, which he was pretty pissed about, but it was made worse by the fact that your dad never paid up, because the woman wasn’t actually a woman. I thought it must have been a case of mistaken identity or something, which pissed Jurian off even more because he’s actually good at what he does… but by then it was too late. I didn’t realize Jessie and Jesminda were the same person until you told me on Saturday.”

Lucien’s eyes narrowed. “So our breakup is your fault… how?”

Tamlin blinked in surprise. “Well… I thought that—”

“That if you had taken Jessie’s pictures instead, my dad wouldn’t have realized his secret identity?” Lucien snorted. “Yeah, my dad was pissed about me dating a drag queen, but he didn’t cut me off because I’m gay. He cut me off because of how much I was spending on my boyfriend.”

“Oh.”

Lucien shrugged. “That doesn’t mean he approves of me being gay. It’d be a pretty bad look for the CEO of a major corporation to publicly come out against his gay son, when the company is all about family, so this was his secret way of punishing me.”

Tamlin winced. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be.” Lucien shrugged again and looked away. “Besides, Jessie could have stuck around if he wanted to, but he didn’t. And that’s not your fault, either.”

Tamlin sighed. At least that was one less thing to worry about, even if it was unfortunate.

“Is that all?”

“Is what all?”

Lucien smiled a sad half-smile. “The last of your terrible secrets? You haven’t scared me away yet, you know.”

Tamlin blew out his cheeks. “Well, there is one more,” he said hesitantly.

Lucien huffed a laugh and shook his head at the ceiling. “All right, big guy,” he said wryly. “Hit me with your best shot.”

“I’m serious.”

Lucien’s amused smile faded. “Okay.”

Tamlin took a deep breath. “It’s about Vassa.”

Lucien straightened. “What about Vassa?”

Tamlin’s heart skipped a beat. This might be the moment where he lost Lucien forever. “That day in the bookstore… I was doing surveillance.”

“Okay…”

“I didn’t know you were Vassa’s friend,” Tamlin said quickly. “I was just supposed to verify that a woman matching Vassa’s description was here in Prythian. We were hired to take pictures and send them back to some guy in Scythia. I don’t even know what he wanted with them, and it wasn’t my job to find out. But the second I saw you, I knew I couldn’t go through with it.”

“Because I was Vassa’s friend,” Lucien repeated flatly.

“Yeah,” Tamlin said, and his hopes for forgiveness wilted.

Lucien breathed out a heavy sigh, then turned and ran a hand over his hair. “This is not good.”

“I know.”

“Does Vassa know?”

Tamlin lifted his palms, then let them fall. “Jurian dropped me off before driving out to Vassa’s hotel. He was going to tell her tonight.”

“That he’s been spying on her?”

“No,” Tamlin said firmly. “He went to tell her that he won’t be spying on her. He turned down the job. This Koschei guy was willing to pay through the nose for those photos, and Jurian refused.”

“He did?”

“Yeah. We really could have used the money, too.”

Lucien looked skeptical. “All for a few lousy photos?”

“Well, not just any photos,” Tamlin said, somewhat defensively. “Photos of Vassa.”

“Doing what, exactly?”

Tamlin shrugged. “I don’t know. Just photos of her standing on the street. Proof that she was in Prythian, I guess.”

“So, not like… nude…?”

Tamlin made a face. “No. Of course not. We don’t do stuff like that.”

“Oh.” Lucien scratched at his scar, looking pink, then he dropped his hand with a sigh. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“Because it sounds terrible,” Tamlin declared. “The only reason I was in the bookstore that day was to do a job. And I couldn’t exactly tell you why I was there when the target was standing right next to you.”

“The target being Vassa… Not me.”

Tamlin shoved his hands into his pockets. “Yeah.”

Lucien blew out his cheeks and tiredly ran a hand over his hair. “I hate to say it, but I’m actually kind of disappointed,” he said with a sad chuckle.

Tamlin’s shoulders slumped. “I was afraid you would be.”

“Don’t get me wrong. I am disappointed that you felt like you had to keep all of this a secret, but… I’m more disappointed that you weren’t there for me.”

Tamlin smiled sadly. “I kind of was, though.”

“Oh?”

Tamlin shrugged. “I hung around a lot longer than I was supposed to. It was so nice hearing your voice… Watching you choose books with Vassa… I kind of thought she was your girlfriend, at first.”

Lucien snorted, and tried to hide his smile behind his hand. “Sorry. But you’re not a very good detective, are you?”

Tamlin’s face turned warm. “I never said I was. Jurian’s the detective, not me.”

Lucien’s amused smile faded. “So, you really stuck around… for me?”

Tamlin nodded. “Yeah. I don’t think I would have had the courage to say anything before you left, but… I wanted to. I was surprised at how badly I wanted to.”

“What did you want to say?”

Tamlin gestured back and forth. “‘Hey.’ ‘How’s it going?’ ‘Good to see you.’ ‘How have you been?’ ‘It’s been a long time’…” He took a deep breath and dropped his hands. “‘I missed you.’”

Lucien’s eyes glistened. “God knows how much I missed you.”

Tamlin managed a smile, though it was a teary one. “I wish I could have told you… under different circumstances.”

Lucien nodded sadly. “Me, too,” he murmured, then took a deep breath. “So, really? You’re not going to turn in Vassa’s photos?”

“We never took any.”

“Good. That’s good.” Lucien nodded distractedly. “Now, what did you say that guy’s name was? Koschei?”

“Yeah, Koschei. Why? Do you know him?”

“No. Vassa just told me she was on the run from some pretty bad guys, and she needed a quiet place to stay and lay low for a while.”

Tamlin blanched. “She’s on the run? Really?”

Lucien nodded grimly. “She didn’t want to tell me, but I did ask. You know how nosy I am.”

Tamlin winced. “You were just being a good friend.”

“A good friend wouldn’t have asked in the first place,” Lucien countered, then he sighed. “Anyway, I don’t know all the details, but she’s safe now. She’s staying in a hotel under my name until she can find more permanent arrangements. It’s the least I could do, since we knew each other from before.”

“When she drank you under the table back in college,” Tamlin remembered.

Lucien rolled his eyes skyward before pinching the bridge of his nose. “I am going to kill Alex for telling you that,” he muttered.

Tamlin bit back a chuckle, then his smile faded. “I didn’t know you and Vassa were so close,” he said softly. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the job, but… I couldn’t. Besides, she was just a name on a piece of paper to me, back then. She’s not now, obviously, but for all I knew, this guy Koschei just wanted to find her so that he could get his stuff back. You know, like a bad breakup. Who gets to keep the hoodie, and all that.”

Lucien cocked his head. “A hoodie? Really?”

Tamlin spread his hands wide. “You would not believe some of the things people try to hire us for. It gets weird.”

Lucien breathed a laugh, then sighed and shook his head. “I guess I can’t blame you for trying to do your job,” he said quietly.

“It was just a job,” Tamlin agreed. “Until it wasn’t.”

Lucien nodded, looking thoughtful. “I guess it all worked out in the end, anyway,” he mused. “Out of all the private eyes in the city, Koschei picked the ones who actually have a conscience.”

“Hey, we’re not all sleazy,” Tamlin joked, then grew serious. “Jurian really does care for her, you know. In case you were wondering.”

“I didn’t wonder,” Lucien said gently. “But you know, if nothing else, I’m glad she has someone else to talk to. Scythian isn’t the most common language around here.”

“That’s why Koschei hired us,” Tamlin agreed. “Well, he hired Jurian, I mean. I’m just the assistant.”

Lucien smirked. “His cute assistant.”

Tamlin blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Koschei doesn’t know what I look like.”

“That’s too bad,” Lucien teased. “You might get a lot more business if people knew what a good-looking guy you are… Then again, maybe it’s better that they don’t.”

Tamlin blushed deeper, though he smiled. “Yeah, it kinda defeats the purpose of being a private eye, otherwise.”

“Yeah,” Lucien murmured.

They stood in silence for a moment, listening to the crackle of the flames, but it was not an uncomfortable silence.

“You know,” Tamlin mused. “If it hadn’t been for this job, I never would have gone into that bookstore that day. Who knows when we might have seen each other again?”

“I mean, you had the chance three years ago, when I was with Jessie,” Lucien began, then stopped himself. “But you weren’t ready to see me, yet… I guess.”

“And you were dating someone else,” Tamlin reminded him.

Lucien nodded and stuffed his hands into his coat pockets. “Yeah, I was,” he murmured.

The silence was not as comfortable this time.

After a long pause, Tamlin offered shyly, “If it had to happen, I’m kind of glad it happened this way. Even if Koschei was responsible for making it happen.”

Lucien nodded slowly. “How about we give Vassa the credit for this one,” he said thoughtfully. “When we tell people the story of how we met, and met again, let’s just say it’s because of Vassa.”

Tamlin’s head jerked back in surprise. “You want to tell people the story of how we met?”

Lucien smiled. “Of course. Isn’t that what boyfriends do?”

Suddenly overwhelmed with emotion, Tamlin threw his arms around Lucien and held him tight.

“Whoa. Hey,” Lucien said with a surprised chuckle. “You okay, there, Tam?”

Tamlin nodded and buried his face in his boyfriend’s shoulder as Lucien’s arms slid around him. “I didn’t think you’d ever forgive me for this,” he mumbled. “That’s why I didn’t want to tell you.”

Lucien gave him a firm squeeze, then pulled away to look into his eyes. “There’s nothing to forgive,” he said kindly. “You were just doing your job. And, hey, at least no one got hurt.”

“Yeah, I’m really glad about that,” Tamlin said, relaxing at last. “Jurian even found someone else who wants to look into this whole Koschei business. But don’t tell anyone,” he added, wincing.

Lucien merely chuckled, and his eyes twinkled. “Don’t worry. I won’t,” he promised, then stepped back and gently poked him. “But speaking of secrets, do you have anything else you want to get off your chest? Because now would be the time.”

Tamlin huffed a laugh. “I’m pretty sure that’s everything.”

“Are you sure?” Lucien teased. “You didn’t forget that you’re secretly a werewolf or something, did you?”

Tamlin blushed. “I guess you’ll have to wait until the full moon to find out,” he said shyly.

Lucien’s eyebrows rose at his playfulness. “That’s this weekend!” he remarked. “How do you expect me to sleep until then?”

Tamlin ducked his head to try to hide his grin, but failed. “If you have silver, I think you’ll be safe.”

“Mm, I much prefer gold,” Lucien said with a wink. “But they say that music will tame the savage beast, so—” He reached behind Tamlin for the shopping bags. “—how about a song, maestro?”

Bemusedly, Tamlin accepted the bags and reached inside. “New strings,” he murmured in awe. “And rosin.” He unscrewed the cap and breathed in the sweetly familiar scent. “Oh, it smells like a Christmas tree,” he sighed.

“It does?” Lucien dipped his nose toward the small container, then made a face as he jerked away. “If you say so.”

Tamlin chuckled. “I mean, I wouldn’t wear it as cologne or anything…”

“Thank god,” Lucien muttered, rubbing his nose.

Tamlin grinned. “But I like it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Lucien said, smiling back. “Just let me know if you need anything else for your violin, okay? If I’m going to survive until this weekend, I need to keep you happy.”

“I am happy,” Tamlin said warmly. He set his gifts aside and dusted off his hands and looked at the tree. Their tree. “I can’t remember a better Christmas,” he murmured. “Not since my mom died.”

“Well, Christmas isn’t here yet, and we’ve still got Hanukkah,” Lucien said, trying to keep his voice light, but Tamlin could tell he was truly touched. “I’m glad I get to spend it with you.”

“Me, too.”

They stood in companionable silence for a moment, until Lucien loosened the top button of his coat. “So…”

“So,” Tamlin echoed.

As Lucien worked his way down the buttons, he asked, “What do you want to do now?”

Tamlin shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said honestly. “I wasn’t sure what was going to happen tonight. I knew I could always get a cab if things didn’t work out, but…”

“But they did,” Lucien pointed out.

“Yeah, they did,” Tamlin said with a relieved smile.

“So, it’s just going to be us tonight?” Lucien said, finally shrugging off his coat.

Tamlin found himself blushing again. “Yeah. I mean, unless you think another one of your brothers is going to drop by,” he said shyly.

“Oh, god, I hope not,” Lucien moaned, walking to the closet. “I love them, but I have plans tonight, thank you very much,” he declared, hanging up his coat.

Tamlin blinked. “Oh, you do?”

“Yep.” Lucien closed the closet door with a flourish, then leaned against it. “And they all start with You.”

“‘U’ as in underwear, or…?”

Lucien laughed as Tamlin realized his mistake, and stepped forward. “God, I love you.”

Tamlin’s breath caught and Lucien paused as they both realized what he had just admitted, but Lucien laughed it off.

“You know,” Lucien added quickly, scratching at his scar. “The Scythian way.”

Tamlin nodded. He was blushing so hard, he had broken into a sweat. Or maybe it was because he was standing too close to the fireplace. Not that he was willing to move away. Not now. “Come here,” he told Lucien softly, nodding him over.

Looking almost shy, his boyfriend crossed the room to join him.

“I want to tell you something,” Tamlin said, feeling shy himself.

“More secrets?” Lucien said teasingly, but he was blushing. He was actually blushing.

Tamlin nodded. “Just one more.”

“Okay,” Lucien said softly. He seemed to be quivering.

Tamlin took a deep breath, then he smiled. “I love you, too.”

Lucien’s lips parted in surprise.

When he didn’t speak, Tamlin added, “You know, the Prythian way,” only half-teasing.

Lucien smiled slowly, but it was a pleased smile. “Is that different from the Scythian way?” he teased back.

Tamlin tried, but he couldn’t contain his grin. “Very.”

“How so?”

Tamlin wet his lips. “Well, for one thing…” he said, then slipped his hand around Lucien’s neck and kissed him. Lucien’s hands slid around Tamlin’s waist and pulled him closer, leaving Tamlin’s hands free to slide through Lucien’s hair as he kissed him, and then kissed him again.

Lucien’s breath was hot against his mouth when they parted. “I think I like the Prythian way,” he murmured, breathing hard. “It leaves no room for interpretation.”

“Yeah,” Tamlin agreed, breathing hard himself. “I think so, too.”

Lucien’s hands clung to Tamlin’s sweater as he sighed, then he pressed his forehead against Tamlin’s. “I want to say it back, but I don’t want to sound like I’m just saying it back,” he whispered.

“It’s okay,” Tamlin tried to say, but Lucien pulled away to shake his head.

“No. I mean it,” he said. His eyes shone bright in the firelight. “I’ve loved you for a long time. I think I always have. And even if you don’t want me to, I think I always will.”

Tamlin cradled Lucien’s face between his hands, and stroked his cheeks with his thumbs. “Now I’m the one who doesn’t want to sound like I’m just saying it back,” he said with a shy laugh, trying to keep his emotions under control.

Lucien wrapped his hands around Tamlin’s wrists and simply smiled, but he looked like he was trying to hold back tears, too.

Tamlin swallowed. “So, how do you say ‘Me, too’ in Scythian?”

Lucien laughed tearily, then grabbed Tamlin’s face and kissed him. Between kisses, Lucien taught him the proper phrase, then kissed him again when he got it right.

“Not bad,” Lucien teased when they parted.

Tamlin blushed. “What can I say? I had a pretty good teacher.”

Lucien grinned, then wrapped his arms around him and kissed him again.

You’re amazing.

I love you, and I always will.

Me, too.

* * *

Lucien was too contented to move. Not that he wanted to.

His head was resting against Tamlin’s bare chest, and rising and falling with each slow, steady breath. Tamlin’s fingers were lazily curling the ends of his hair, and he could hear the gentle thumping of his boyfriend’s heartbeat right below his ear.

There was another movie about dinosaurs eating people playing on TV, but the volume was on low. Since they’d already missed the first half, he wasn’t paying close attention.

Then, his stomach rumbled again, and Tamlin must have heard it this time, because he chuckled.

“Was that you, or the TV?” he murmured, still stroking Lucien’s hair.

Lucien reluctantly lifted his head to look into his boyfriend’s eyes. “That was me,” he said in a lazy drawl, then smirked. “You hungry?”

“Yeah, I could eat,” Tamlin mused, then moved his fingers to brush a stray hair from Lucien’s forehead. His thumbnail gently traced the scar above Lucien’s eyebrow.

Lucien rested his chin against Tamlin’s chest. “What?”

Tamlin slowly shook his head, looking thoughtful. “Just… thinking about luck, I guess.”

“Yeah. Me, too,” Lucien murmured, then pressed a firm kiss against Tamlin’s sternum. “Sit tight. I’ll be back with some sustenance shortly.”

Tamlin sighed as he pulled away, then tucked his arm beneath his head as he watched Lucien reach for his pajama bottoms. “Hey, aren’t those mine?”

Lucien chuckled. “Yeah,” he said, fastening the top button with a playful smirk. “I could wear mine, but… yours were closer.”

Tamlin smiled as Lucien slipped his arms into the unbuttoned pajama shirt. “Green looks good on you,” he observed. “Maybe I should get you a matching set for Christmas.”

Lucien grinned, then braced his hands on the mattress to lean in. “Didn’t I ever tell you?” he said softly. “I don’t wear pajamas.”

Tamlin’s bemused smile turned slack in shock. “What?”

Lucien chuckled, then kissed the corner of his stunned mouth. “You were so shy when you first spent the night, I didn’t want to scare you away,” he explained playfully, then straightened to button the center button. He flicked up his eyebrows. “But I always sleep naked.”

He left Tamlin lying speechless on the bed while he laughed his way into the living room.

By the time his bare feet hit the cold kitchen tile, though, his thoughts had already turned to food. He opened the refrigerator door and squinted against the cool white light, but it illuminated little in the way of leftovers. There was still some of Tamlin’s homemade chicken soup left, but that wasn’t the sort of food to take to bed. There were some ingredients, like eggs, blueberries, milk… Hmm. Alex hadn’t eaten all of the pancakes, so at least that was an option… albeit a sticky one. Not entirely out of the question, though…

“Find anything good?” Tamlin called out as he walked into the living room.

“Mm, maybe,” Lucien called back, frowning.

Distantly, something crinkled, then Tamlin’s voice came closer. “How about these?”

Lucien’s eyes took a moment to adjust as Tamlin stepped into the dim kitchen. Something crinkled again, something cellophane, and Lucien straightened with a smile.

“Oh, yeah! My mom’s gingerbread cookies,” he remembered happily, and began to close the refrigerator door. “Those are perfect—ly hot. What are you wearing?”

The cool light revealed Tamlin’s shy smirk as he gestured to himself. “I thought it was only fair.”

“Fair?” Lucien echoed, looking him over. He was wearing Lucien’s gray sweatpants, and a snug white tank top that clung to his defined pecs and showed off his muscular arms. “I don’t think it’s fair that you look better in my clothes than I do,” he complained.

Tamlin chuckled and lightly tossed the bag of cookies up in the air. “You want me to take them off?”

“Not yet,” Lucien said, drinking in the sight of him.

Tamlin stepped closer, still smiling. “You’re letting all the cold air out, you know,” he murmured.

“I know,” Lucien said in a low voice. “But I’ll pay the bill if it means keeping my wits about you. I’m starving.”

Tamlin chuckled. “Here,” he said, handing him the bag. “Have a cookie. Let me take a look.”

Lucien accepted it without a word, and mindlessly removed the colorful ribbon as Tamlin bent down to look inside the refrigerator.

“Hmm. You really don’t eat in much, do you?”

“I don’t cook much,” Lucien reminded him, taking a bite of spiced gingerbread as he tilted his head and admired the way the tank top clung to his boyfriend’s muscular form.

“All you really need is a good loaf of bread and some great condiments,” Tamlin said, straightening. “Butter. Jam. Cheese. Pickles…”

Lucien grimaced as he swallowed. “Not in the same sandwich, I hope.”

Tamlin chuckled again, and tucked his loose hair behind his ear. “No. But sometimes it’s nice to have something with your coffee in the morning.”

“Mmm. Pickles and coffee. My favorite.”

Tamlin rolled his eyes. “You’re such an ass,” he snorted, then closed the refrigerator door, plunging them into darkness. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I know I am,” Lucien said as Tamlin reopened the refrigerator.

“I meant the lights.”

“Oh, so, I’m not an ass?”

“Oh, no. You still are,” Tamlin said, smirking.

“You’re so romantic.”

Tamlin snorted again. “If I were really romantic, I’d light some candles, but I guess the overhead light will have to do.” He moved away from the open refrigerator door. “There’s a switch around here somewhere…”

“Don’t. I’ll go blind,” Lucien begged, then pressed the cookie bag against Tamlin’s chest as he stumbled over to the stove. Click. Soft, warm light illuminated the marble countertops without flooding the entire room. “There,” he said, smiling in relief. “That will do until I can rustle up some proper candles,” he joked.

Tamlin closed the refrigerator door without commenting. His head was bent over the open bag to inhale the fragrant scent of fresh gingerbread cookies. “I can’t remember the last time I had some of these,” he murmured.

Lucien nibbled on his own cookie as he walked over to join him. “You can have the rest of them, if you want,” he offered. “I know my mom would be happy to make some more for you. It’s kind of her thing.”

Tamlin smiled wistfully, then shook his head and held out the bag. “I’d rather share. I don’t want you to starve, after all.” His eyes twinkled.

Lucien smirked. “Now I remember why I came in here,” he teased, and took another cookie. “Sustenance.”

He was pleased to see a warm blush steal across Tamlin’s cheeks, even in the dim light.

As Tamlin took a cookie for himself, he murmured, “Is it always going to be like this?”

“What?”

Tamlin took a small bite before answering. “You know,” he said shyly. “The sex. The snacks. The jokes afterwards.”

“I hope so,” Lucien said honestly, and wiped the crumbs from his mouth. “Because there’s no one else I’d rather have snacks with in the middle of the night… Even if you do look better in my pajamas than I do.”

Tamlin chuckled. “You don’t wear pajamas, remember?” he teased.

Lucien’s eyebrows rose. “You’re right. I don’t.” He unbuttoned the single button, then shrugged off the satin shirt as Tamlin watched him with widening eyes. He shivered but tried to hide it as he set the shirt on the nearby counter, then placed his hands on his hips. “All right,” he declared, tossing his head to shake the loose hair from his eyes. “Your turn.”

Tamlin’s gaze had been slowly traveling downwards, then he snapped to attention. “Me?”

Lucien put on a brave smirk. “It’s only fair.”

Tamlin looked at him askance, but at least he smiled. “I didn’t ask you to take off your shirt.”

“It’s your shirt,” Lucien countered. “Besides,” he added, gesturing to the room. “Are you really going to leave me standing around half-naked in a cold, dark kitchen all by myself?”

Tamlin’s bemused smile grew wider. “You’re serious.”

“About sex? Absolutely.”

Tamlin pointed at the floor. “Right here?”

“Right now. If you want to,” Lucien added quickly.

Tamlin bit his lip as he considered this. “Okay.”

Lucien’s insides suddenly fluttered as he watched Tamlin set aside the bag to reach for the hem of his tank top. In one smooth, easy motion, he peeled it up and over his head. He shook his long blond hair free, then let out a quivering breath as he set the garment aside.

“It’s, uh, kind of cold in here,” he said softly. Shyly.

“Yeah,” Lucien breathed. Tamlin’s nipples were already hard and erect, as were his own. As were other things.

They were each clad in a single bottom layer, which Lucien was acutely aware of as Tamlin came closer. “It’s your turn,” he murmured.

“I guess it is,” Lucien whispered, sliding one arm around Tamlin’s waist as he backed them up against the counter. The cold marble bit into the bare flesh of his hip, and he flinched away. “Um…”

“Oh. Maybe if we, uh…”

“Yeah. There’s a towel in that drawer if you want to… um…”

“Did you want to turn around, or kneel down, or…?”

They both glanced at the pathetically small rug at their feet, then burst out laughing. As they clung to each other for support, Lucien was glad to feel how blissfully warm Tamlin’s chest was against his own.

He ran his hands down the muscles of Tamlin’s back and sighed. “Maybe sex on the kitchen floor in the middle of December wasn’t such a hot idea,” he mused, then kissed Tamlin’s shoulder.

“Maybe not,” Tamlin murmured. “But I hear sex by the fireplace can be pretty hot.” His lips grazed Lucien’s ear.

“Mmm… I hear bed sex is pretty hot, too,” Lucien murmured, trailing slow, lazy kisses up Tamlin’s neck.

Tamlin turned his head to look into his eyes, then his gaze drifted down to Lucien’s mouth. “As long as it’s with you, anywhere will do,” he said, then kissed him. Flecks of spice still clung to his lips.

When they parted, Lucien let out a rough exhale. “Anywhere?”

“Anywhere.”

They never did make it to the fireplace. Or the bed, for that matter. With their pants pooled around their ankles on the cold tile floor, it made it hard to walk very far. Not that they needed to.

“I take it back,” Lucien panted, bracing his sweat-slicked arms against the cool marble countertop. “That was pretty fucking hot.”

“Yeah.” Tamlin’s breathing in his ear was as ragged as his own.

Lucien let out a weak chuckle when he didn’t continue. “You’re so poetic.”

“I’ll write you a limerick next time,” Tamlin said, then pressed his lips against Lucien’s shoulder. “That was intense.”

“You’re telling me,” Lucien agreed breathlessly, then turned to face him. “That was… wow.”

Tamlin braced his hands on either side of him. “Now who’s poetic?” he teased, still breathing hard.

“Roses are red, violets are blue,” Lucien quipped, then slipped his hands around his neck and kissed him.

“Mm. That’s not a limerick, but it will do,” Tamlin finished, smiling.

Lucien gave him a bemused smile. “Hey, that was pretty good.”

“Give me a minute to think of something that rhymes with ‘good’, and I’ll keep going,” Tamlin said, sighing as he stepped out of his fallen clothes, then pushed himself away to go to the sink. After washing his hands, he brought a towel to Lucien. “Here. For your manhood,” he said, half-joking, which made Lucien laugh.

“God, you’re good to me,” Lucien said as Tamlin began cleaning him up.

“Not as good as you are to me,” Tamlin said softly. His words were as gentle as his touch.

Lucien’s chest suddenly tightened with emotion. “Here. Hand me another towel,” he rasped. “Let me do you.”

“Oh, um… That was the last one,” Tamlin said regretfully. “Maybe this would be easier in the shower,” he suggested.

“Yeah, maybe,” Lucien said, freeing his ankles from the confines of Tamlin’s pants, but he stayed where he was. “I’ve been meaning to buy more towels anyway, but I never had a good reason.”

Tamlin said nothing, but continued gently wiping the single warm towel against Lucien’s bare skin.

Lucien took a deep, though trembling breath. “I need to buy a new rug, too. Maybe one of those thick foam ones that are good for your feet. Would you like that?”

Tamlin nodded slowly. “That would be nice.”

“And matching aprons,” Lucien continued. “And good bread, and… and condiments…”

Tamlin chuckled and moved away to rinse the cloth in the sink. “You make it sound almost kinky.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Lucien said ruefully, watching Tamlin wring out the cloth. “I just want the kitchen to feel like it’s yours as much as it does mine.”

Tamlin paused and smiled bemusedly. “What do you mean?”

Lucien’s tongue felt strangely thick, but he somehow managed to say, “I want you to move in with me.”

Tamlin stared at him. “What?”

“You and me… I want us to live together.”

Tamlin was so stunned, he dropped the cloth in the sink. “You mean, like… all the time?”

“Yeah,” Lucien said, suddenly feeling shy, and not just because he was naked. “I mean, if you want to.”

Tamlin looked truly taken aback as his hand drifted to his neck, as if he, too, were suddenly and acutely aware of being naked in the middle of the kitchen. At least they were on the same footing, in that regard.

“Well? Do you want to?” Lucien asked hesitantly.

Tamlin laughed in amazement and rubbed the back of his neck. “I just can’t believe that… Wow. You really want me to move in? Just like that?”

Lucien shrugged. “I mean, it will probably take a few days to get you settled, but… yeah.”

“Even though we just had sex?”

“Especially because we just had sex,” Lucien said, half-teasing. “Why? Do you think I’ll change my mind?”

Tamlin bit his lip. It was clear that was exactly what he thought. “It’s just… what if we fight again?”

“Then I’ll sleep on the couch,” Lucien quipped.

Tamlin laughed, then shyly dropped his gaze to massage his palms. When he didn’t speak, Lucien moved closer.

“Hey,” he said gently. “If it’s too soon, you can tell me. I know most people wait six months or more until they move in together… But you and me, we’re not like most people. We first moved in together before we knew each other’s first names, remember?”

That made Tamlin chuckle, which made Lucien smile.

“If you want to wait, I’m okay with that,” he said softly. “When you’re ready, I’ll be here.”

Tamlin met his gaze. “Okay.”

Lucien’s heart skipped a beat. “Okay?”

Tamlin nodded. “Yeah. Okay. Yes. Or whatever it is you say to a proposal like that. To move in together, I mean,” he said, blushing.

Lucien smiled a slow, hopeful smile. “You mean it?”

“I do.”

Lucien grinned, then seized Tamlin’s face and kissed him. “I love you,” he said between kisses.

“I love you,” Tamlin echoed in Scythian.

As their mouths rejoined, their arms slid around each other and closed the gap between them. Tamlin’s skin was cool to the touch from standing in the open kitchen for so long, something Lucien intended to remedy, and soon.

“Something tells me we’re not going to get any sleep tonight,” Lucien said as they slowly made their way into the living room.

“Something tells me you’re right,” Tamlin murmured. He paused when their feet touched the carpet. “I think I feel something coming on. I better call off work tomorrow.”

“Good idea. Then we can finally play Doctor.”

Tamlin chuckled. “I guess it’s a good thing I made chicken soup.”

Lucien grinned. “It’s a very good thing. You know, I’m starting to feel a little feverish myself.”

“Oh, no. What’s the remedy for that?”

Lucien pulled him close. “A hot shower and lots of bed rest.”

“Mm… I don’t know how much rest we’ll get, but that sounds pretty good to me.”

Lucien smiled as he leaned in. “Me, too.”

When they parted, Tamlin whispered, “Hey, Doc?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you think I’ll be feeling better by this weekend? I’ve actually got plans, so…”

Lucien blinked. “Oh… You do?”

There was a smile in Tamlin’s voice when he replied, “Yeah. I’m moving in with my boyfriend.”

Lucien kissed him again. He couldn’t help it. “I’ll make sure you’re all better,” he murmured. “But I’ll get you some silver, too, just to be safe.”

“Silver? Why?”

“Just in case you turn into a werewolf.”

Tamlin pulled away and sighed and shook his head. “Something tells me you’d be into that.”

“Something tells me you’re absolutely right,” Lucien declared, then led his boyfriend into the bedroom.

#posting before the self doubt demons rear their ugly heads #we're getting so close to the end now #about time too #it's been about a year #just in time for another holiday season #how time flies #tamcien #tamlin x lucien #my writing #my fanfic #acotar fanfiction

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