“Gethin?” Oh, if that wasn’t the sweetest sound in the world.
Gethin narrowed his eyes to mere slits and processed colours and patterns as they coalesced into things. He felt as if he’d had binoculars glued to his eyeballs. Why was everything so sharp and detailed? Oh wow, was this vampire vision?Fucking hell, my hand is pale.
Under his arm was the rich brocade of a woven seat covering. He recalled lying down on it. At the time he’d vaguely admired its dusty salmon pink pattern as ‘a nice antique’, but now he could make out the individual threads in the fabric, and every stitch.
He continued his journey. A flash of thickly-tufted carpet, then there was the soft dark blue he associated with his favourite of the several pairs of suit trousers that he’d been lucky enough to witness adorning Sorley’s slender figure. His gaze followed the trousers from the knee upwards, resting for a moment at the juncture of Sorley’s thighs, before it kept going, alighting on a leather belt, a fine silk shirt in the softest cream shade. A shirt that was open at the neck, a tie slung around it as if the owner couldn’t wait to remove the offending article after a meeting.
And finally his reason for all this. The face he wanted to wake up to every single day for the rest of his—For the rest of eternity. The pale, freckle-faced, utterly gorgeous grey-eyed wonder that was Sorley.HisSorley.
He blinked. “Hey.”
The smile that blossomed across his lover’s face could have shamed the sun into quitting its place in the heavens. “Hey, yourself,” Sorley croaked. He reached out a hand, then withdrew it as if touching Gethin would be wrong.
Gethin frowned. “What’s up?”
Sorley’s swallow was a sharp click. “I don’t want to crowd you,” he said carefully.
“Huh.” Gethin swung his legs off the chaise, instantly slamming them into the armchair Sorley was sitting in. “Oops, going to have to learn how to slow down a bit, obviously.” He cracked a grin. “On the plus side, that won’t even bruise, will it?” Now upright, his bigger physique made him almost the same height as Sorley. He winked at him. “Nice benefit, that, and I’ve not even stood up yet.” He rubbed self-consciously at the back of his neck. “Is there, like, anything special I need to do first? I’m beginning to realise that reading articles isn’t anything like the same thing as experiencing it first hand.”
Sorley gaped at him. “Are you all right? You’re not confused or overwhelmed or anything?” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Not thirsty?”
Gethin considered all of this. “I could do with a pair of sunnies and some noise-cancelling headphones,” he ventured, after Sorley began to look concerned at the time he took to respond. “But I guess I’ll get used to the overload in a bit, when I’ve had a few days to adjust.” He glanced at the curtains and felt a shudder ripple through him. “Bloody hell, I didn’t think it would be so easy to never want to see the sun again. The mere thought makes me queasy.”
Sorley looked relieved. Then he smiled again, but this time it was hesitant. “So, do you want to feed? Or, umm, I don’t know…watch some TV?”
Gethin laughed. “I was hoping we could go upstairs and fuck like bunnies.” He took Sorley’s hand and guided them both to standing. “Because television bores you senseless, and you’re regarding me like an unexploded bomb in the middle of a shopping centre.” He caressed Sorley’s cheek, running his thumb over his smooth skin which now felt exactly the same temperature as his own. “This,” he gestured at himself, “changes who I am, sweetheart. It doesn’t changehowwe are.” He felt himself smirk. “Well, unless it means I literally never get tired from fucking you. That really will be an amazing benefit.”
He tugged at Sorley’s hand, towing him towards the door. “I can see every single one of your freckles in high definition, babe. I have never been so horny in my life.”
As he pulled open the door, he stopped on the threshold. “Dalziel.” All at once, Sorley seemed to fade somehow, even though he knew he was still holding his hand. Dalziel was…important? In charge? “Uhh…”
Dalziel motioned for them both to follow him. He walked along the corridors to the bottom of the main staircase, then indicated Gethin should sit down. “Simply because your height makes it impractical for me to address you when we are both standing. There is nothing wrong.”
Gethin sat.
“Right,” Dalziel said, looking more befuddled than Gethin had ever seen him. He was pleased to note he could alsofeelthe confusion coming from him; evidently that aspect of his shifter nature hadn’t changed. “Right. Usually this is the part where a sire is frantically corralling their newly-turned offspring to feed without drawing attention to themselves, or preventing them from draining some unsuspecting human dry. Or urging them to walk slower, or hugging them tightly while they moan and wail about too much noise and light.” He stared at Gethin, then at Sorley. “Has he been like this since he awoke?”
Sorley grunted. “You were outside the door, Dalziel, you know damn well he has.”
Gethin sat forward on the stair, trying to see the problem. “Are you saying youwantme to be a needy heap of issues?”
“Of course not. It’s just extremely unusual.”
“Not something Dalziel’s come across before,” Sorley supplied.
“Perhaps it’s your shifter genes. Maybe they have a calming influence on—Are yousureyou’re not thirsty?”
Gethin pondered for a moment. “My throat is a bit dry,” he said finally. “Nothing bothersome, but—”
“Let’s get you some blood. We can fuck later.” Sorley’s eyes widened. “Not something I ever imagined myself saying, but I suppose there’s a first time for everything.”
Gethin watched while Dalziel took a glass from a cupboard in the kitchen, then opened the fridge, apologising for bagged blood not being as good as fresh. As he withdrew a familiar opaque packet though, his reaction was anything but familiar.
“Oh God,” he moaned. “Gimme.” His mouth was suddenly over full and awkward.
Dalziel glanced at him as he stepped towards the microwave. “Sit down.” His tone was laced with something Gethin couldn’t pinpoint, but it drove into his centre and demanded he obey. He dropped into the nearest chair and quivered with the effort of remaining seated. Heneededthe contents of that blood bag. Right damn now.
Dalziel handed him the full glass. “Try not to spill it on your clothe—” He grinned, a wide, unguarded smile that transformed his usually sombre expression to one that hinted at mischief and maybe some as-yet-undiscovered sides to him. “Well then, I see you’re going to be a tidy feeder as well as a controlled one.” He took the empty glass back and peered at it. “Barely necessary to stick it in the dishwasher.” He studied Gethin intently, going as far as to circle him to check him from every angle.
