“I fucking love how much you want this,” Bo said, words he’d offered once before. “I asked to brush your hair because I’ve wanted to since before we bonded, and we sought each other for our bed. It’s sexy as fuck, the sounds you make, how you lean in. The wayyou open your mouth for me. Fucking pretty. Same goes when you let me pull you about some.”
“I–” He didn’t know what Bo wished him to say. He didn’t know how to be wanted in the way Bo was willing to want him.
Bo tugged at his hair, gently insistent. A pull at Everil’s scalp that settled that knife-sharp need to freeze or run.
“If this is you selfish, sign me the fuck up. Especially if you’ll let me see how much more I can get you to not think.”
What could he possibly do to deserve such generosity? What was he meant to say? In his place, Bo would have the words. It would likely involve multiple creative invocations of the word ‘fuck.’
“You’re very patient,” Everil said, meeting Bo’s gaze at last. “I’m not accustomed to that. Nor to someone being so clear.” He managed a smile, hesitant but real. “It’s … appealing. But I’m not skilled at speaking with the same candor.”
“You’re doing pretty well on the candor front right now.”
Again, Everil found himself smiling. “You may consider yourself a role model. I would very much like not to ruin this.” He would giveanythingnot to ruin this. “But questions about what I want or what I like are … difficult. I want you. This. More. Is that acceptable?”
“Yeah, Everil. It’s more than acceptable.” Bo’s reassurance, fond and raw-edged and patient, stole Everil’s breath even as it allowed him his next inhale. “Just, you tell me if I say or do something you’re not a fan of. Okay? ‘Wait’ or ‘stop’ or what-the-fuck-ever. Push my arm if you can’t talk. Fuck knows I’m not going to get upset at you for it. Feelings aren’t mind reading. All that shit.”
Strange words, stranger for their sincerity. Bo meant it. He would have Everil stop him. Would interrupt his own pleasure for the sake of Everil’s comfort.
“As you wish. I’ll tell you,” he said, openly confused. It wouldn’t be easy. Everil wasn’t in the habit of objection. “My word on it.”
His oath, because otherwise, he didn’t know how he’d dare to voice dissent.
“Good.” The word came with a rush of satisfaction and anticipation, a current of heat and honey.
Bo leaned in, his grip shifting, his other hand light on Everil’s jaw. Painfully close, and still, not quite a kiss. Everil could feel a shiver go through him. He swallowed.
“I– Bo, I fear I don’t know what to do.”
“Put one of your hands on the back of my neck,” Bo said. “Like on the porch. I like it when you do that.”
Too generous, too kind, and Everil did as Bo permitted. Warm skin under burning fingers. So very tempting.Delicious. And there was Bo’s pulse, racing under the stroke of his thumb.
“I can feel your heartbeat like this,” he murmured, drunk on touch and possibility. On Bo’s equal want, as sweet and heady as mead. “Arteries are like rivers. All desire.”
“I still say the river’s missing out.”
Laughter, and then Bo’s smiling mouth, pressed to his. Soft but bold, that was how Bo kissed. Not like a reward or a punishment. Like he was exactly where he wished to be.
“The river’s here, Bo.” Everil’s tongue traced his own lips, honey-sweet from Bo’s aura. Warm with the heat of his kiss. “You’re holding it.”
“Fucking dangerous. Hungry and grasping.” Bo kissed the words into the corner of Everil’s mouth. “Told you. Most beautiful fucking thing I’ve seen. You and you and you.”
Hungry and grasping. Somehow, in Bo’s cadence, the words were a caress instead of a lash. His callus-rough fingers brushed Everil’s lips, coaxing them to part for wanting, eager noises.
“It’s unseemly, my love,” Nimai’s voice mocked. “Look at you. How you pant for it. Disgusting.”
“Unseemly,” Everil murmured the words against Bo’s fingers. “That’s what would be said of it. The way I behave, the way I wish to behave, with you.”
He needed to get Nimai’s voice out of his head. He needed Bo to say it, to take away the bitter sting.
“Unseemly,” Bo echoed as his fingers pressed between Everil’s already parted lips. Slow, and as sure as the hand still in Everil’s hair. “Unseemly, ’cause you’re enjoying yourself, giving me exactly what I want, and a fantastic fucking sight?” Back, and in and in, while Everil shook. “Their loss. You’re behaving how you want, and it’s hot as hell. I want as much of your unseemly as you’ll give me.”
Unseemly, the helpless, hungry noise he made as Bo’s thumb stroked his skin. The way he leaned in, taking all Bo would give him and begging for more. Unseemly, the word sugared with desire; poison turned to candy.
“See? Like that. Looks so fucking good.” Bo’s voice was a caress, and Everil’s fingers curled with it, stealing the heat of his skin. “It’s fucking tempting to do this all night, watch you come apart little by little, just from this.”
Everil answered with helpless, desperate whimpers. And Bo, sweet Bo, met need with generosity, filling Everil’s mouth and overwhelming his senses. Rough fingers against his tongue and further, leaving Everil swallowing against them.
