Begging. Asking. Needing. Joy and wonder and pleasure, asking for more, forBo, and Bo’d told him he’d give him fucking everything. Wasn’t hard to groan a quiet, “Fuck, yes, mine, fucking perfect, my goddamn beautiful kelpie.Yours.Your Bo.” To break in the best ways.
Bo shook apart as he came, hips tucked close while his world broke into shards, blades of grass in the winter wind, cutting and focused and too fucking surreal. Too good. So fucking good.
Auras. Souls. Energy. Cool silver streams and thick bonfire nights. Ever’s quiet moan, sweet and close.
Too much. Took everything to not collapse on Ever’s back and stay there. To only let his fingers trail through ink-black hair and hold on to his hip, gentling them both just enough to ease out of Ever with a hiss.
He stayed close. Didn’t let go. Wouldn’t let Ever think it was a one-and-done, no touching allowed after, or whatever the fuck else his shitty past partners were like. (Ever’s brief discordant note through the singing heat of their bond banished all fucking doubt Bo might’ve had about the shitty past partners.)
(Only brief, though. Gone when Bo kissed his back again.)
“You’re amazing,” Bo rasped, shaking and still unable to catch a full breath. “Fuck, Ever.”
Ever shifted. Collapsed. He settled onto the bed, was what he fucking did, still shivering and apparently giving zero fucks about the wet spot under him.
“I– Stay close? I’m still– I don’t usually–” A breathless exhale, nearly a laugh, and Bo grinned at the sound. “Never. I’ve never been quite this–”
Bo dropped to the side, greedy hands reaching for Ever and his gorgeous almost laugh. Mutual happiness, damn near fucking giddy. Limbs heavy with climax or not, Bo dragged Ever to him. Held him to his chest, that stupid fucking grin still in place.
“I’m more than okay not being alone in the ‘holy fuck that was awesome, and I’m riding a kind of high.’ ” Bo nuzzled Ever’s hair, letting his hand travel over Ever’s chest. The other, he wiped on the sheets. “ ’Cause holy fuck, Ever.”
“I can’t seem to stop shaking.” Ever’s voice was warmer than he’d ever heard it. Bo could practically see his smile.
“Fucking valid. There with you, too.” Another grin, quick and hidden. Everything felt fuckinggood. Bo nudged Everil with his knee, lazy and sated. “Your Bo with my Ever. I want to kiss you.”
“YourkelpieEver answered, with a gentle, laughing emphasis on ‘kelpie.’ He turned in Bo’s arms, pointed teeth visible in his smile. “You’d not wish to kiss me just now. You’d cut yourself.”
Ever, his kelpie, smiles and light in Bo’s arms. And hewassmiling, sweet and delighted with the razor teeth of a river predator, watching Bo from black moonlight pools like he wanted nothing the fuck else in the world.
“Mykelpie,” Bo murmured in agreement, reaching to stroke his thumb over Everil’s lower lip. Lovely Ever, with or without the sharp edges of his smile, still lined with silver. “My pretty kelpie.”
Ever pressed his lips together, and when they parted again, serrated points were blunt once more, though the rest of him stayed all fae.
“There.” Another smile, small and shy. “Though you’ll have to settle for my Bo, as ‘my pretty human’ has rather unfortunate implications among my people.”
“Yeah?” Bo shifted closer, tangling their legs together as he stroked Ever’s neck, his chest, his back. Ever sighed, his eyes fluttering shut, and lips curled into another smile at the brush of Bo’s lips to his.
“Quite.” Everil’s fingertips hovered at Bo’s hip, not quite touching. “May I?”
Bo wrapped a few strands of hair around his fingers and tugged, gently. “Touch me? Fuck, yeah. Yes. I like the way you feel.”
Ever sighed, soft and wondering, then his heated fingers trailed along Bo’s side, along the line of his scar. The touch kicked Bo’s still galloping pulse a notch higher. Weird to still feel this high.
“You’re my bond and my … lover, not my pet,” Ever said, soft and considering. Bo hummed in agreement, watching Ever with heavy-lidded eyes. “An important distinction.”
“I’d make a horrible pet. Best keep me as a bond and lover.”
Ever rewarded him with a small smile. “I’m inclined to agree.”
Bo would do ridiculous, horrible things to see him smile like that. Stupid shit, dangerous stuff, or, as it turned out, kiss him again.
“I meant what I said,” he said, somewhere between light and warm. Bo tasted Ever’s lips as he spoke, water and cold sunlight and still places. “About you and us.”
A little too ambiguous, and he knew it. Too late to take it back. But Ever didn’t stop touching him: fingers soft and claws gentle up Bo’s side and back down again. When he spoke, the words were more careful than even his touch.
“Forgive me, but I’m an ill study of people. I don’t doubt your sincerity. But you said … much.”
“I meant everything.” Bo stretched against Ever as well as he could to give him more room to pet. “Definitely the beautiful, fierce fucking kelpie parts, and talking about you being perfect. Mine and yours. Doing fantastically.” He grinned. “Make you a coherent list when I can think again.”
