The memory of Nimai’s words, as close to his skin as Bo’s were now.“Why must you fight so, my love? You make me hurt you, then play the victim. I know it’s in your nature to be selfish, but I ask so little of you.”
“You’re not obligated to share jack shit.” And it was odd, how Bo sounded like he meant it. “Besides, if it wasn’t ‘yours to take’ earlier, don’t see how it’s mine to expect from you. Which I’m not fucking mad about, by the way. I get worse as jet lag. A heads up next time would be appreciated is all.”
“I’m entirely obligated. Bo, you seem to know the fae. The old stories.Rememberthem. Our people are defined by oaths and debts and laws of courtesy. When I say I am indebted to you, that isn’t pretty words or kindness. I am not kind. I’m bound to the obligation, whether or not you choose to acknowledge or collect.”
“I never told you I know the old stories.” That old, still raw hurt flared through the bond. “I can’t fucking acknowledge somethingI don’t understand.”
Everil allowed his arm to rest more solidly against Bo’s back. There was history and pain and guilt there, and if they survived the day, perhaps he’d eventually learn its source. Now was not the time to argue, to dissect Bo’s every obscure reference to the fae.
“My mistake. I apologize for the presumption.” Everil allowed himself another hesitant trace of his thumb down Bo’s neck, hoping it might offer some comfort. “You healed me when I was injured. And I took what wasn’t mine to take.”
Bo calmed, relaxing further into Everil’s touch, and Everil could barely breathe for wanting him to remain there. He kept still, his arm a careful weight against Bo’s back, not holding him close so much as offering support. Or, at least, that was the intent. Everil’s intentions rarely carried well.
“We bonded.” Bo’s tone was no less confused. “I– Fuck. Okay. Let’s say we met on the street and decided to bond. No one was injured. No one took anything without asking. Would you, me, or both be obligated to share energy?”
“If we met in the street, and I recklessly went against ages of Protocol and bonded to a human, we would establish an understanding prior to fixing the bond in place. There’s generally an oath and obligations are nested within it. The specifics vary.”
The list, with Nimai, had been a long one. Everil’s family had been so desperate to see him bonded, to hold what they had. They’d been willing to give much, to have Everil give much, in return for Nimai’s willingness.
“And instead we had you trying to stop me from pawing at that music thing, and me catching you.” Bo spoke, slowly, the puzzlement still in his voice. “Since you were … injured, you took stuff we didn’t negotiate on. So you’re indebted to me, with an obligation to share your energy if I want it?”
“I am indebted to you,” Everil confirmed. He could have left it at that, allowing Bo his misapprehension of the situation. Fae didn’t lie. Nor did they have any obligation to tell the truth. “That’s the whole of it. The nature of the obligation is fluid.”
“Not just energy then.” Clarity breaking through that confusion.
“Fluid, but not limitless.” He eased the weight of his arm against Bo’s back, his touch once again becoming the barest graze of fingertips. There was no proper way to hold someone while saying you could kill them at any time. “I’m not bound against doing you harm.”
“That’d probably be frightening if I’d assumed you couldn’t at any point before this. I just figured you didn’t want me dead,” Bo said. “Fine. I acknowledge the obligation and that you can cause me harm. What about the fact I was probably going to poke atsomething magical and we only bonded because you tried to stop me? Or did stop me, actually.” He paused, then, and Everil could feel the discomfort that prefaced his next words. “Could you put your hand and arm back how they were? It felt nice.”
Everil didn’t deserve this human’s persistent generosity. Still, he had told Bo he would follow his lead. He did so, arm and hand settling back as they had been.
“I hope it’s clear by this point that I don’t want you dead.” Not that he hadn’t considered the solution. “Your actions are immaterial. I set no conditions on your entry.” He hesitated a moment, turning Bo’s questions over in his thoughts. “You needn’t worry, Bo. I’m not seeking some counter to hold against you.”
“Yeah, no. I’m the one looking for an out,” Bo answered, then fell into silence. A long beat in which they only stood, feeling each other’s breath. “All got our damage, right? I get in my head sometimes. Robin calls it my inability to accept a fucking thank you.”
Robin. Friend? Lover? Someone who knew Bo well, certainly. Though perhaps not, as Everil could have made the same observation, and he and Bo were nearly strangers, for all that the man was leaning against him. Tucked close and his skin warm under Everil’s fingers.
Everil would visit the river. Yes. He would shift and let the waters fill in the hollows where his essence had bled away. Perhaps that would further ease Bo’s desire to be near him. Everil was bitterly aware that there was no banishing it entirely. But he could save Bo the indignity of clinging to a man he didn’t even like.
“I’m afraid I must tip the scales between us yet further. Declan will witness your oath to Talia if you still wish to give it. After which, I have an errand to attend to. But then we must depart. This is a known place. Leaving it should grant us a little more time.”
Everil braced himself for irritation. Instead, hope welled through their bond, golden as honey and so very sweet.
“Do you need us to go anywhere specific?” Bo’s hand was tight on Everil’s wrist, and the other reached to grip Everil’s shoulder. “If it can be anywhere, that would actually help me out a lot. Like, a ridiculously stupid amount.”
Everil froze, unsure if he felt more like a rabbit in the shadow of a hawk or a cat watching a mouse wander unknowingly closer.
“Nowhere specific.”
“Sorry I shouldn’t have–” Bo’s grip loosened with that abortive sentence, his hand falling from Everil’s shoulder.
“No. My apologies. I was only startled.” Startled, unsure. Terrified by the rush ofpleasurebeing held brought. “You have somewhere you wish to visit, then?”
“I’m supposed to be in Florida in a few days. Aunt’s birthday. I’d promised my brother I’d be there. Robin’s– I had to work really fucking hard to get him to trust me again.” Bo gave a one-shouldered shrug, his voice tight with emotion. “Figured, if I didn’t die tonight, I’d talk to you about it tomorrow. But if we need to peace the fuck out anyway, it’s seventeen hours away and it’d mean a fucking lot, Everil. Genuinely.”
The words came with a rush of apprehension and fragility from Bo. Tied to guilt but not of it, and Everil felt the growl in his throat, a desire to threaten someone, to offer some protection to the man in his arms. His bond.
But there was no one here but Everil himself to fight. So he would have to find another way.
