Fray appeared on Tobin’s boat. “You two ready?”
Sawyer stepped onto the boat with zero hesitation. “Hell yes.”
Ciaran followed him on, unable to stop smiling. They were really doing this.
Fray took the wheel, and they pulled away from the pier, his blond hair tousled in the cold wind, his blue eyes focused ahead of the bow of the boat.
He wasn’t wearing his trademark smile, and Ciaran hated that. “Was Tobin okay?”
Fray made a face in reply.
Ciaran hated that Fray was dealing with everything. Unrequited love, pining from afar.... It had to fucking suck. “I’ll talk to him,” he offered.
Fray shot him a look. “If you spend one minute of the next two days thinking about anything but each other, I’ll be disappointed.” Then he shot Sawyer a toothy grin. “Almost as much as he will be.”
“I’ll be what?” Sawyer said loudly, obviously not hearing over the motor, the wind.
Ciaran went to him, blocking him from the wind, at least. He fixed Sawyer’s beanie, getting lost in his sky-blue eyes, flushed cheeks, and timid smile. He brushed his fingers along his cheek, his jaw. “You okay?” Ciaran murmured.
Sawyer nodded. “About to be a whole lot better.”
Ciaran chuckled, because damn. But doubt simply wouldn’t leave him alone. “Just so we’re clear,” he began. “We should probably set some guidelines. Expectations, perhaps. When we first arrive, I should get a fire started for you. The hut will be cold, and I want you to be comfortable. And should you wish to talk first, if you have any other questions?—”
“Talk? If you wanted to talk, we could have stayed at my place.”
Ciaran heard Fray snort-laugh behind them, but he didn’t turn around.
“Are you sureyou’recertain you want to do this?” Sawyer asked.
Ciaran laughed but it lacked much humour, because damn, if Sawyer only knew. He stepped in closer, pressing Sawyer up against the table with his body. He crowded him in, moaning at the contact, letting him feel how certain he was.
“I’ve never wanted anything more in my life,” Ciaran murmured. Sawyer tried to kiss him then, but Ciaran put a finger to his lips. “But your informed consent is my priority. This cannot be undone.”
Sawyer’s eyes narrowed as if he was pissed off. “I know that. I’m very well aware of the situation because I’m not an idiot.” He stared at him for a good long while, then he sighed. “Sorry. I know you... I know you want me to make the right decision. The decision that’s right for me. But I know what I’m doing. And it’s not just me anymore, is it? I want to make the right decision for you too.”
Ciaran opened his mouth to contradict that, but Sawyer wasn’t having it.
“I’m not finished,” he said. “I need to make the right decision for you too. I need it in ways I can’t explain. It’s not only sexual. I feel it here,” he said, his hand to his chest. “I need to do this.I want to do this. Whatever this bond is between a cephamorph and a human, no matter how weird it might seem to some, it’s real to me. It’s not pheromones or whatever. It’s fucking real. Fuck, like there’s a string right here, pulling me towards you.” His eyes scanned Ciaran’s, searching, imploring. “I appreciate your concern, that you want to be certain I know what I’m signing up for. Ciaran, I know. I know what I want, what I need. And I do appreciate you wanting to talk, to lay out some expectations and communication, blah blah blah. But you need to know something too. When we get to this hut, or whatever it is, you can fix the fire, if you insist, but youaregoing to rail me. Are we clear?”
Fray laughed so loud, Ciaran couldn’t help but turn around and glare at him.
“Oh, he’s freaking perfect for you,” Fray said, shit-eating grin in full effect.
Ciaran tried to sneer at him, but he was trying too hard not to smile to pull it off. Instead, he turned back to Sawyer. “Your wish, my command.”
Sawyer’s smile was smug and victorious. He slid his hand along Ciaran’s waist and pulled him in close. “You should probably try getting used to being wrong a lot,” he said.
Ciaran’s eyebrows rose. “Is that right?”
He nodded, eyes darkening as he ran his hand down to Ciaran’s arse and gave it a squeeze. Ciaran’s dick twitched making Sawyer grunt. “Or maybe we can compromise.”
“I can compromise,” Ciaran murmured, eyes drawn to Sawyer’s mouth. He leaned in, just about to press his lips to Sawyer’s. He needed to kiss him, taste him.
Devour him.
Fray cleared his throat. “Jesus. Not even the fresh air is helping. Can you two wait, like, thirty seconds?”
Ciaran turned to growl at him, but Fray nodded up ahead.
