Saemund huffed and shook his head, wandering off into the controlled chaos of the lab, muttering to himself.
“I’m using harpy spit, caffeine crystals, and some dry ice. A drop of energy catalyzes the reaction and it should last for a few months before dying on its own.”
“Harpy spit?” Ezra nodded as he realized what the viscous fluid was in the dish. “Hard to get, and harder to use without the acid destroying everything it touches.”
“I’ll be sealing the charm in this tiny glass bottle and then wrapping it in treated waxed leather.” Nórr pointed to the materials on the table along the wall under the shelf. “No leaks, no spills, and the energy of the charm will naturally degrade after a few months, rendering it inert.”
“You do this a lot, don’t you,” Ezra mused, eyeing the lab setup and the various experiments in different stages of completion.
“Charms to annoy? In between my larger projects, yes. I like to be busy,” Nórr explained, and he finally saw how Raum washolding Ezra. “Oh, that’s right, you two were on a date. Why’d you come here if you were on a date?”
Ezra felt Raum drag in a deep breath and sigh, and he looked over his shoulder to see Raum’s face. He’d never seen such an expression before on another person, and he was guessing it was fondness and exasperation. He knew what exasperation looked like for sure. He’d certainly never seen familial fondness on someone’s face when they looked at him, so he wasn’t sure. A twinge went through his core, and he thought perhaps he was a bit sad about that. He mentally shook it off. His family drama was old and over.
“We were worried you’d set the lab on fire or blow something up,” Raum said. “Grandpa made it sound urgent.”
“I haven’t blown the lab up in years!” Nórr denied, brows furrowed. “I think. The years tend to blur once you get past a certain age. And Pop needs to stop worrying so much, I haven’t had any incidents since I last burned down the shed. It’s why we have these annoying vents and the like everywhere.” Nórr gestured to the ceiling and the complicated safety systems among the rafters.
The ventilation and fire suppression systems all seemed fairly new to Ezra. He wondered if Nórr, due to his age, simply had a passing relationship with time. Ezra could empathize—he lost track of time all too easily himself. Raum did mention that both his parents were centuries old, despite Nórr looking the same age as his son. He wondered briefly what the passage of time would be like, living that long—but even as a sorcerer-ranked practitioner, he wasn’t likely to see past his one-hundred and fiftieth birthday. A mere glimpse at eternity for an unmated magical human.
He had yet to meet Raum’s mother, Freya, in person, and he wondered if she saw time much like Nórr did, or if she perhaps had more of a human grasp on the concepts of time.
“My dear child, is this meant to be spilling over?” Saemund called from the depths of the laboratory, making Nórr finally leap off his stool and sprint toward his father’s voice.
“Don’t touch anything!” Nórr called out as he ran, whether to Ezra and Raum, or his father, Ezra had no idea.
“Should we follow them?” Ezra asked, content to remain leaning on Raum, relishing the bigger man’s heat along his back and side.
“Nothing’s on fire,” Raum said, leaning down enough that he could speak in Ezra’s ear, warm breath tickling his neck.
Big hands slid around his waist and hips, rubbing, gently squeezing, and Ezra lit up like one of Nórr’s experiments, heat swamping him. He put his head back and nipped at Raum’s jaw, nosing along the strong column of his throat, and Raum’s hands gripped his hips harder.
“Take me home with you,” Ezra breathed out quietly.
Raum shuddered behind him, grip tight enough it almost hurt, and Raum exhaled roughly before he nodded in agreement.
Raum gently moved Ezra away so he could move, and he took Ezra’s hand and began leading him from the laboratory. “Dad, Grandpa! We’re heading out!” Raum called out loudly enough to be heard over the hum of machinery.
They heard a distracted goodbye from the depths of the lab and Ezra willingly followed Raum out of the shed, through the backyard, and back into the garage. There Ezra was spun and gently pushed against the remaining car in the garage, and Raum’s mouth descended on his in a deep, wet kiss.
Raum kissed like his life depended on it, like he did it for a living, tipping Ezra’s head back and devouring his mouth, tongue and lips demanding Ezra yield, which he did with enthusiasm.
Raum ended the kiss abruptly, yanking his phone out of his pocket and Ezra watched in between desperate gulps for air asRaum summoned a car from the app, the phone pinging as a car was sent their way.
“Ten minutes,” Raum said, putting his phone away, and Ezra launched himself back into Raum’s arms, Raum lifting him off his feet as their lips met in another crushing kiss.
They made out for what felt like forever, but then a horn honked and they broke apart, Raum leading a dazed Ezra out of the garage and down the driveway to the curb, to the waiting car.
Ezra was checked out, mind obsessed with how Raum tasted, felt, smelled, the heat from his large frame and the way he manhandled Ezra. All of it was perfect. He huddled against Raum in the back seat of the car and held Raum’s hand, a big thumb rubbing the side of his hand and wrist, making his blood sing.
Raum smelled like clean skin, wildflowers, and sin.
He wanted to breathe Raum in and hold on to that breath forever.
CHAPTER TWENTY
EZRA
Ezra was sure Raum’s place was lovely, but they only paused long enough to shut and lock the front door behind them before Raum lifted Ezra in his arms and carried him through the dark apartment, mouths fused, hands tugging at clothing, Raum kicking off his shoes as he carried Ezra. Big hands cupped his ass and kneaded the muscles, and it drove Ezra crazy.
