“You’re wrong.”
“Sure,” Kell said. “You were just looking at the stars after you managed to lie to an archfey. Stop it. She asked us what hurts us, Saeldian. We all told the truth. And so did you. I didn’t understand that at first.”
“Well, you get it. Congratulations.”
It was freezing out here. Saeldian was so cold. They’d been shivering out here the whole time Kell had lounged in the bath doing his best to ignore them.
“Drop it. You’re out here fighting tears like you’ll die if you let them fall, and that’s not true. So let’s hear the truth. What hurts you the most? What do you fear most in the world?”
“Stop.”
“No,” Kell said. “What do you fear most in the world? I know already, so just tell me.”
“I can’t.”
“Then I’ll tell you.”
They were stiff, but they didn’t pull away or fight, and Saeldian was better at close-quarters combat than he was. If they really wanted to get loose, Kell would be on the ground.
He relaxed his hold.
Saeldian didn’t move.
All right, then. They couldn’t tell Kell. But Kell could guess. “You’re the other side of my coin. You always have been.”
A drop of water from Kell’s wet hair landed on his neck, cold enough that he felt it roll all the way down to the collar of his robe. “I’m always afraid that the people I care about most will leave me, or something will take me away. You’re always afraid that you will leave someone, or something will take you away.”
Saeldian gasped and went still.
“Every friend you make, every partner, everyone who claims you as theirs, something will take you away.”
They shook. “No. It’s because I’m selfish.”
“You never had a lover. You could seduce anyone if the game asked it, but you never courted anyone. You could charm anyone, but you never made a friend. Besides me. And then the day came that something took you away.”
Saeldian let their head fall on Kell’s shoulder with a thump and raised it again just as quickly.
“And it’s happened again,” Kell said. “Something has happened that will take you away from Jubilee. Everyone in your life who looked at you and saw a friend, a part of their family, a beloved who let you into their hearts—you have to leave them when they get into yours. And when this job is done, you’ll be gone.”
Saeldian’s breath hitched. Their fingers squeezed tight on Kell’s shoulder, but Saeldian waited, listened.
“You can never accept what they give you, because you can never give it back.”
Saeldian fell into him, sobbing. They pounded his shoulder blade with one fist and wailed. Kell scooped them up and carried them back into the warm cabin and let them cry in his arms, and he rocked them the way they had rocked themself alone.
This was why Saeldian left him in Baldur’s Gate. This was why they left everything to him. They couldn’t give him anything else once something had taken them away. Kell stroked Saeldian’s hair and hummed a bit, letting the sound rumble in his chest until the storm of tears passed, their hitching breaths evened, and they didn’t let go.
Osalor had never held them like this. Kell knew it down to the sinews. What if no one had? Saeldian had one eye on the exits and the other on whoever was most likely to make trouble, and theyalways knew when tempers would boil before anyone else caught a hint. How would anyone who always needed an exit accept anything that felt like a trap?
Sap popped in the hearth behind Kell. Their rocking had slowed to a gentle sway. Kell ran his hand over Saeldian’s silky curls and pressed his lips to their temple and didn’t realize until Saeldian went still.
Still, but not stiff. Kell kept his lips where they were and kept from tensing up or going too still. Saeldian would spook like a fawn either way.
Slowly, Saeldian tilted their head without pulling away. Their chin dragged across his collarbone, their nose pressed up against his throat. When Saeldian’s lips actually glided up his throat, he still lifted his chin to give them more room.
Saeldian tilted his head back down and kissed his mouth.
Kell knew he should wonder why, but instead he pulled them close, kissing back.
