After all, one couldn’t reallyenjoyrejection when acceptance was sought.
“I’ll do it.”
Flat.Devoid of any joy, disgust, fear.Empty.
Declan had expected it to be like this if he ever found someone willing to take him as a bond.Once, young and ridiculous, he’d allowed his hopes to creep up.That’d been Tsuri.Dismissed with an impersonal letter, rich with formality.A lesson hard learned and closely kept.
He knew better than to look up at Antonio with a thrill offinallyin his breast, eager for a future with someone who might, perhaps, someday, not mind his very core.He did, had been taught better, and still met Antonio’s eyes so the man’s expression could snuff those thoughts out fully.
It shouldn’t have hurt.
“You’ll do it?”Declan ought to look back to Antonio’s busy hands.He didn’t.
“If you’re still ‘inquiring.’I’ll do it.I just need you to protect me.”
“I… Did something happen?”
Antonio stopped picking at his fingers long enough to reach into his pocket and pull out a crumpled letter.He held it out to Declan, hands on the wrong side of unsteady.
“I got this today.”
Declan took the paper, half crushed by a desperate hand.He smoothed it on his knee, eyes narrowed.Flowery bloody bullshit.Calloway.Declan’s lip curled despite himself, disgusted.
“Thisis why I dislike it when fae try to be poetic.They become their own bloody heroes.”Declan allowed his distaste to drip into his words.Antonio shrugged and shoved the paper back into his pocket with rough force.
“He’s not making it up.I wish he was.”An obviously uncomfortable admission, Antonio’s voice tight with it.“I said it.About staying with him.Fuck,marryinghim.Just, I was twelve.A stupid fucking kid.”
A stupid fucking kid, but to the fae, a promise was a promise.Declan understood that.He hesitated, feeling the solid comfort of leather over his shoulders and sharp metal at his mouth.Declan licked the taste of it, Antonio, from his lips.
“There are things you must know about sluagh before you agree in full.Will you hear me out?I’m happy to weave between duck shit while I explain.”
And Antonio– Antonio shoved himself to his feet.Turned, and held his hand out to Declan.
“What I know about sluagh is Calloway’s fucking terrified of them.That’s about it.”
The fact he extended his hand to Declan showed that in spades.Humans and family willingly touched Declan, sometimes.Mostly his mother and human lovers who didn’t know him as a fae.Minders, when he had been younger, chosen for their lack of family and strong outside friendships.
And Antonio, Hollow Antonio who saw Declan from bone wings to black claws to boots, offered his hand with its wide palm and blunt nails without hesitation.Declan, helpless to resist the temptation of contact, willingly given by someone who agreed to be his bond, took that warm, callused hand and stood.
Declan would protect the human for this moment alone.No bond needed, just this.Declan’s palm sang and sang and sang.
He kept that to himself, even as he tucked the memory of rust, earth, and leather away.Though he let go of Antonio’s hand, he did so with care.It wouldn’t do to jerk away as ifAntoniowere the sickening thing.
“Calloway isn’t alone in that fear.For double surety, we can always put in our bond oaths that neither will wed without approval from the other.”He meant it as a joke, wry smile and all.
“Bond oaths,” Antonio echoed, taking the first few steps back along the path.Declan fell in step beside him.“Bo never said anything about oaths.He just said they touched and it happened.Was– Fuck, wait.”
“Mm?”Declan shot him a curious glance.
“Was that it?Did I– Shit.Shit.”
Ah.
“You didnot,” Declan said with as much conviction as one could without sounding angry.He aimed for emphatic.For whatever would get air in Antonio’s lungs again.“Everil and Bo are a unique case withveryspecific circumstances.Oaths are for surety, safeguards to protect a person or family from exploitation, or to– What’s the phrase?Sweeten the pot.Make an unappealing bond more agreeable.The bond itself, we make withintent.”
Antonio, thankfully, breathed.Breathed and smiled in Declan’s direction, vaguely apologetic.He kept walking, too, his shoulder nearly touching Declan’s.Declan, selfish Declan, allowed himself the luxury of that closeness, and returned the smile, though without apology.
The rich brush of leather and metallic tang of a show gone too loud and too long, with a pit that begged to be thrown into anyway.The soft earth and grass underfoot did little to chisel away the ghost touch of solid ground, cracked and dry, sun-baked.
