But Theodore was not in need of any small support like that.Peter loved seeing him give himself over to joy, and tonight he was doing exactly that, his head falling back to expose his neck, his eyes closed for the most part, though bright when they fell open.He was much like a musician lost to his instrument, like a painter filling the canvas with abandon.
The sight was beautiful and humbling both, but like a spectacle of fireworks, it wasn’t meant to last.Theodore came first, writhing with it, his cum spattering Peter’s chest.He was using Peter’s arms now, muscles straining as he moaned loudly, competing with the sounds of the movie still playing in the background.
Peter came when Theo opened his eyes and looked at him.He bared his teeth—an automatic reaction he hadn’t intended.Yet Theodore took it as a cue and reacted, leaning forward despite the mess and offering his neck.
“Mine,” Peter whispered, then he bit his lover.
Theodore, thankfully, had quickly lost any fear of the bite.He was ready for the pleasure that came with it, but Peter barely took a sip this time, so there wasn’t much of the usual effect to be had.
Still, in combination with both of them coming and with Theodore likely tired from the day, it was more than enough to have him turning soft and seeking comfort in Peter’s arms.
Peter bit his thumb to tend to the wound, even as Theodore struggled to keep his head up.
Peter cupped the back of Theodore’s head, feeling the soft hair and gentle warmth of him against his palm.“Dearest, you need rest.”
“Hmm.Need you.”
He was looking for friction and closeness both, trying to banish whatever distance remained between their bodies, touching Peter in an attempt to get him even closer than he already was.
“I’m here.I’ll take you upstairs to our bed.You’ll fall asleep in my arms, and you’ll wake in my arms.I shall watch over you while night rules and after day breaks.”
“You sound…funny.”
Theodore was slurring his words already, the effects of the bite enough to calm him, if not potent to the point of overwhelming him.Peter wrapped him in the abandoned blanket and brought him upstairs, where he dealt with the small mess from their lovemaking using one of the soft cloths he’d recently bought and put in the bathroom for just such occasions.They were a pale green color—a small touch to mirror Theodore’s eyes.
Peter stripped Theodore, who let himself be undressed with the lightest of nudges before sprawling across their bed in an unintentionally inviting way.Once Theodore was under the covers, Peter spent half an hour straightening the house, then joined him.
He didn’t really understand what Theodore had been doing all day, but he understood what it meant that even in sleep, he turned toward Peter and sought his nearness, sought the safety of his arms.
“I’ll guard you, beloved.I’ll guard you.”
Peter kissed his lover’s brow and held him firm.One day, you will ask me for a bond, whether a handfasting or any other ritual, and you will have it.You own my heart, beloved, and I can wait to be given yours.
Chapter 9
TuesdaywasTheo’sbusiestday.It started with two lectures back-to-back, then a short break, then a seminar.Tuesdays were also for film screenings, and they had one scheduled for that week.
After his morning lectures, Theo headed to the cafeteria for a quick lunch.He usually got here before the big rush, so he managed to get the seat by the window he liked, the one on the second floor that had a good view of the library entrance and the lawn in front of it, which was dotted with other students lounging on blankets, even now that the semester had started.
Theo dug his packed lunch out of his shoulder bag—the one Peter made for him unprompted, especially on Tuesdays when Theo didn’t have the time to even go to the cafeteria sometimes.That had started after Theo had come home one Tuesday, hungry and tired, and mentioned that he’d only had a candy bar on account of the cafeteria being slammed and him only having fifteen minutes after he’d lingered to ask his professor a question.Peter hadn’t made a huge deal out of it at the time, but the very next week, he’d started with the lunches, mumbling something about no one liking it when people got hangry at work.
Theo, of course, had protested.But Peter had been adamant, citing the damn contract, and he hadn’t gone without lunch on a Tuesday since.
Still thinking about what it would be like to work again, Theo set the lunch box on the table and opened it.Today’s selection made him frown.
“What the fuck?”
Peter had made a sandwich, much like he usually did, perfectly layered and with the miso and bean spread he’d figured out Theo liked all the way to the edges.That was normal.However, at some point between making coffee and serving Theo breakfast, Peter had apparently mastered the craft of turning vegetables and fruit into miniature art.
The banana was the most normal, the skin having browned out the words Peter had etched into it:Self-love is not so vile a sin as self-neglect; do not be sneezed upon, fair Puck!There was also an orange in there, pre-peeled, and the peel had been turned into either a bear or a rabbit with raisins for eyes and the stem for a nose.The apple, cucumber, and tomato had all been transformed into delicate flowers.
“What the actual fuck?”Theo repeated, turning the lunch box and contemplating how to eat the food.
He rubbed his face and pulled out his phone.
There’s an art show in my lunch box.
He sent that to Corvin, followed by a photo.
