The words seemed to break something loose in Sebastian. His movements became less measured, more desperate as he chased sensation without the mechanical precision that had always governed him. He leaned down to capture Boarstaff's mouth in a hungry kiss, tongues meeting as their bodies joined. Boarstaff could taste the faint metallic tang that was uniquely Sebastian, could feel the subtle warmth of brass against his lips.
Boarstaff shifted his hips, changing the angle to strike deeper. Sebastian broke the kiss with a cry, his entire bodyshuddering, hair falling around them like a curtain that cut off the rest of the world. They moved together with increasing intensity, finding a rhythm that built steadily rather than desperately. Sweat slicked their skin, the stone cool beneath Boarstaff's back, a counterpoint to the heat building between them. Boarstaff's hand moved faster on Sebastian's cock as he felt his own release approaching, his other hand gripping Sebastian's hip, guiding each movement with increasing urgency.
When Sebastian finally came, it was with a hoarse cry that might have been Boarstaff's name. Hot wetness spilled across Boarstaff's stomach and chest as Sebastian's body convulsed around him. The brass threading beneath his skin pulsed with light that briefly outshone the moonlight streaming through the cave entrance. Boarstaff followed moments later, gripping Sebastian's hips with bruising force as he thrust upward, driving deep inside him one final time, spilling with a guttural groan that echoed against the cave walls.
Afterward, Sebastian collapsed against Boarstaff's chest, his breathing gradually slowing to normal. They remained that way for some time, neither speaking, Boarstaff still buried inside him, the simple connection saying everything necessary. Boarstaff's fingers traced idle patterns along Sebastian's spine, feeling the places where brass components had once been anchored, transformed into something more organic, more alive.
The moonlight shifted across them, casting new patterns on their intertwined bodies. Boarstaff felt a contentment he hadn't known in longer than he could remember, a moment of perfect peace in the midst of everything that threatened them both.
Eventually, Sebastian moved to lie beside Boarstaff, one arm draped across his chest, head resting on his shoulder. The position seemed almost too vulnerable for the proud vampireBoarstaff had first encountered, yet perfectly natural for the Sebastian who had emerged from the Heart Tree. The cool stone beneath them was a reminder of where they were, not in the safety of Boarstaff's quarters, but in this liminal space, neither fully in the village nor outside orc territory. A fitting place for what existed between them, Boarstaff thought, something that couldn't be easily categorized or contained.
"Stay," Sebastian said quietly.
"Until dawn," Boarstaff agreed, knowing his duties would call him back to the village with the morning light, only a few hours away.
Sebastian nodded against his shoulder, accepting the limitation without argument. His fingers traced idle patterns on Boarstaff's skin, following the lines of old scars, mapping the territory of a body that had endured its own transformations over the years.
"You were right," Sebastian said after a long silence.
"About what?"
"When you said I should stay in your quarters." A pause. "The isolation... it's necessary, but difficult."
The admission cost him something, Boarstaff knew. Sebastian had spent centuries maintaining emotional distance, allowing only what his father's components deemed necessary for functioning. To acknowledge loneliness, to admit need beyond the physical, represented a vulnerability that no amount of combat training had prepared him for.
"The offer stands," Boarstaff lifted his hand to Sebastian's hair, fingers combing through the damp strands. "Whenever you're ready."
Sebastian was quiet for a moment, his fingers tracing idle patterns on Boarstaff's chest. "Sometimes I wish I could have you in the citadel," a wistful note colored his voice.
Boarstaff tensed slightly, memories of his imprisonment there still raw.
Sebastian shook his head, feeling the reaction. "Not like that. Never like that again." His voice softened further. "I had a bed there. Enormous. With sheets woven from silk gathered from the southern plains. Pillows filled with down." A small smile played across his lips. "Instead of this hard stone beneath your back."
"I've slept on worse," Boarstaff relaxed again. "And had far worse company."
Sebastian went quiet, a smile lingering on his lips as the tension in his body eased completely, his weight settling more fully against Boarstaff's side. Outside, the rain had stopped entirely, leaving only the occasional drip from the cave entrance to mark its passing.
In the quiet that followed, Boarstaff listened to Sebastian's breathing, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart against his own.
Not so different after all, despite everything that should have separated them. Not so impossible as everyone believed.
For that night, at least, neither of them was alone.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Soft sounds of movement at the cave entrance drew Sebastian from sleep. He opened his eyes to see Boarstaff silhouetted against the pre-dawn light, broad shoulders moving with practiced efficiency as he fastened his leather armor. The warchief was trying to be quiet, each movement measured and careful.
For a moment, Sebastian simply watched him, appreciating the play of muscle beneath green skin, the way the growing light caught in his dark braids. After centuries of vampire nobility, where every gesture was calculated for effect rather than function, there was something mesmerizing about Boarstaff's unadorned practicality.
"You don't have to leave yet," Sebastian said softly. "It's not quite dawn."
Boarstaff turned, a half-smile visible in the dim light. "Council meets at first light. Thornmaker will notice if I'm late."
Sebastian nodded, understanding without resentment. They both had roles to maintain, appearances to preserve. The previous night had been stolen time, a pocket of privacy that reality quickly reclaimed.
He rose from the simple pallet, unself-conscious in his nakedness as he rushed to where Boarstaff stood. The night-chilled stone was cool beneath his bare feet, a pleasant contrast to the lingering warmth of sleep. Outside, birds had begun their morning chorus, though the sun remained below the horizon.
"The village will be awake soon." Boarstaff’s gaze traveled over Sebastian's form with undisguised appreciation. "I should go before—"
