“I've a feeling the information may have not sunk in, yet.It's… quite a lot, on many fronts.”
Talk about a fae sentence.And Antonio just let it hang there, in the now silent kitchen.
Declan deserved better.Been treated like shit for so long he didn’t realize what he was worth.And Antonio could, what?Not treat him like a disease?Screw him on a desk chair?Getting laid wasn’t going to do Declan much good against someone like Aultyr.
Thoughts for later.Or never.
“And I,” Aisling chimed in, her voice soft as ice crept up the side of her teacup, “am very angry.They want to kidnap you and kill my boy.That won't do at all.”
“Didn’t even send a card first.”Bitterness turned Antonio's voice dry and as cracked as leather left in the sun.“Rude bastards.Next thing you know they’ll be using the wrong fork.”
Declan snorted, made everything that little bit better by pressing his mouth to Antonio’s shoulder, where he could feel him smiling.“Drink from the finger bowl, perhaps.”
And now Antonio was snickering, just a little, dark humor easing the moment into something he could breathe through.He couldn’t do any of this without Declan.He wouldn’t want to.
Somehow, they’d live through this.Both of them.Hopefully.
Chapter Twelve
Declan
“Ioweyouanapology.”Too abrupt.No lead up.The words had been crowding Declan’s tongue since the breakfast table.
Antonio was little more than a riot of emotions.Some warm.Others acidic.A tether of leather strips and old chain, keeping him grounded on the desert floor.Hard and safe and still in need of care, lest the chain dissolve into rust and the leather snap.
“For what?”Antonio sounded so genuinely confused.
A fae would understand what he meant.Or they’d have framed the question to make it appear that they did.Voids, Declan was so very glad it was Antonio he’d bonded to.
“I should have considered the potential backlash to my finding a bond.I would have informed you before our oaths if I had.I am a … controversial … figure,” he said.“When we spoke of our situations, I told it as I knew it.”
There was more, of course.Apologies for not reacting as Antonio would have preferred, giving in to that quiet cold at the breakfast table.If he allowed it to melt away, reveal the fear that lurked under, Antonio would have felt it.And he already feared so much about Faerie.Fae.Everything Declan was made of save for Declan.
“You talk a lot of bullshit sometimes, Murderpunk.”Antonio scoffed, even as Declan felt that fear ringing bright in his too-quick pulse.“It’s a big jump from getting snubbed at a party to murder.”
“For fae, it isn’t so shocking a leap.”
“Pretty sure they’re skipping some steps, leap or not.‘Sides, it wouldn’t’ve changed my mind.”
“My duty is to be as pessimistic and dramatic as possible,” Declan said, prim as he could manage, and only partially joking.
Better to joke than to mope about, hoping Antonio would keep treating him as he had.With those touches and that rough, surprised laugh as he looked at Declan the way Declan had always wished to be looked at.Seen.The cracks and void of him.
“You’re a trip, Murderpunk.”
Club candy and a needle high.Hit like a freighter.
Anallotment.With Declan’s head and Antonio’s captivity as the cost.
“The gravity of the situation may have finally sunk in.”Declan swallowed hard, his eyes studiously, firmly, on Antonio’s collarbone.“May I hug you?”
Antonio drew him in, just like that.A hand at the center of Declan’s back and pulling him flush to Antonio’s chest.
“Don’t gotta ask.”Antonio kissed Declan’s hair and wrapped his other hand around the base of one of Declan’s wings.Rather than a thrill up his spine, the touch thrummed through him, quiet and settling.
Thiswas worth keeping his promise of four hundred years.This moment, here, and Antonio’s affectionate, unasked-for kiss, the bloody perfection of their bodies leaning together.
“It wouldn’t have changed mine, either,” Declan admitted into that broad, solid chest, arms wrapped firm around Antonio.Holding on.He needed it.“I liked you too much.”
