As far as nightsto flee into the darkness went, they could have chosen worse. Clear and crisp, the evening wind a gentle nip rather than a sharp bite to exposed skin. Everil was quiet as they made their way into the forest. Well, except a murmured‘If I may’and the offer of a hand at Bo’s elbow after the second time he’d nearly tripped over a fucking root in the dark.
Fucking gorgeous, the whole of it, and their silence a comfortable one. Everil seemed more at home in the darkness. He was warm and sure beside Bo, those long fingers the only thing preventing Bo from stumbling straight into a broken nose.
“The river’s just ahead,” Everil offered, releasing his careful hold on Bo’s arm. The trees thinned only a few steps after he spoke, giving way to the rocks of the riverbank. Theburble of running water joined the soft sounds of insects, leaves and shadow giving way to the gleam of moonlight on dark water.
Bo closed his eyes and breathed deep, dimly aware of Everil’s equally full breath beside him. It smelled like the kelpie. Growth and damp, fresh earth and cold stone, the wash of clean, chilly water over thick moss.
The nagging twist of tension in their bond eased, so consistently tight that Bo’d stopped noticing it, that constant sharp note of anxiety. This felt like a sigh, let out slow so your limbs loosened. Except replace ‘limbs’ with ‘souls’ or whatever it was they had tangled between them.
He opened his eyes to see Everil watching him. His attention akin to the rush of a river, sweet and tempting on a bed of fresh greenery. Bo tasted it on the tip of his tongue, the sifting of loam and moss over fingertips. Something to sink into. He could feel the beat of Everil’s heart through their bond, rushing in time with the river. Heat shivered under the icy swirl of his aura.
“I’ll not be long,” Everil said, slipping out of his loose sweater and folding it into a neat, precise square. “Are you cold? I can weave a bit of warmth for you if you require.”
For a moment, Bo thought of taking that half step closer, reaching out to touch newly exposed skin burnished gold under the stars. A brush of fingertips just to see if Everil welcomed an answer to the way he’d briefly looked at Bo.
Fucking tempting, the thrum of Everil’s response to the river in his core, want unfurling along the seam of their knitted together magic.
“I’m good,” Bo answered, holding out his hand. He managed to sound steady. That in and of itself was a win, his eyes still trailing over Everil’s torso. “I can hold your stuff? Keep it safe from raccoons. And cats.”
Talking meant not thinking about Everil stripping under the night sky. It even helped to pull Bo’s gaze back up to the man’s (disgustingly pretty, freckled) face, as if Bo were someone whowasn’ta creep.
Everil swallowed hard, shifting again to glance at Bo. Want and the river licked at their bond, parched throat sated, and the world grown anew. Everil handed Bo his shirt, his fingers burning where they brushed the inside of Bo’s wrist.
No fucking wonder people followed kelpies to the water’s edge.
Not even a half hour earlier, Bo’d wondered how to draw Everil out. He’d thought about how not many expressions seemed to linger for Everil, especially not the positive ones. How his shifting towards Bo with his hands at his sides was a big deal.
Apparently, the answer to all of that wasrivers. At least this specific river for this specific kelpie. Bo didn’t want to assume. He had Everil’s touch burning on his wrist with the curl of those long fingers, damn near scalding, and a tidal rush in his ears.
Rivers loosened the line of Everil’s bare shoulders and rivers were why Everil stepped out of his pants without a moment’s hesitation. To swim, or splash, or whatever he planned to do that probably didn’t involve eating Bo.
The kelpie folded the pants with the same care as his sweater, handing them to Bo without the accompanying drag of fingers.
“The raccoons know better,” he murmured, soft voice gone husky, a line of heat up Bo’s spine. “But I appreciate your intercession with the cats.”
More than one way to fucking drown a man. (At least this way Bo could still breathe and survive. Each inhale tasted like Everil.)
Lean lines and long limbs belied the strength Everil had shown earlier, when pulling Antonio around. Freckles splashed intermittently on his smooth, moon-gilded skin. Bo watched the spill of dark hair over his shoulders as Everil moved, still feeling thattouch.
He didn’t think about what Everil’s skin might taste like under his tongue. He didn’t shiver at the near purr of his words, either.
Fuckingvoicethe man had on him, pretty as he was, smooth and level, even when standing in front of Bo without a stitch of clothing, hard and wild. Beautiful, that voice.
It’d sound so much better if just a little more breathless and wrapped around Bo’s name.
“I like to knock shit off counters too,” Bo said, just this side of rough, unable to look away from Everil’s face. He took that half step closer, reaching for Everil with his free hand. “We get along.”
Everil didn’t move, still but not frozen like he’d been on the porch. Cold fingers met too-hot skin, jarring and so fuckingright. The bond caught between them, lit like a flame. Careful, Bo slid his hand back, palm light against Everil’s soft cheek, fingers curving along his jaw and the shell of his ear.
The contact didnothingto smooth the edges of Bo’s voice. Neither did the way Everil parted his lips, the hint of his tongue touching teeth as he breathed deep, like he could taste Bo on the air. Fuck, maybe he could.
“Need to tell you something before you go in,” Bo said, quiet. “Nothing bad. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Everil leaned into the touch, his attention fixed on Bo’s lips. “I’m listening.”
And, fuck.Fuck. The two of them fed off this. That was the only way to say it. Everil leaned in more under Bo’s study, lips still parted, all invitation. They’d be warm under Bo’s, soft and eager. Everil wouldwelcomehis kiss, same as he did Bo’s touch at his cheek and temple.
Just a nudge. A little push, the slightest pressure, and they could fall together, touch and taste. Everything they both wanted.
