Part Two #3
Westin chose his words carefully. “Did you do this to yourself in the bath, brat?”
“Thinking of you,” Sun admitted after a moment, either needing to focus to speak or annoyed at being asked. “I wanted to be ready.”
“And you wanted to please me.” Westin hoped his disbelief wasn’t too obvious. “So you chose a scent you thought would entice me and worked yourself open, and thought of me, or of this—of getting me to do this exactly where we are so that Hely and everyone else would know I’m yours.”
“Wes…”
“Jealous enough to make a scene in the middle of an inn—again,” Westin added, his voice rough though he was far from angry.
He did wonder what had occurred in the last inn they’d stayed in that had made the brat decide the entire countryside needed to hear Westin fucking him, but that was a question for another time.
“I wanted to be ready,” Sun explained again, trembling too much to be convincingly snotty.
“Because it’s been months, and my cock is yours, so why wouldn’t you prepare yourself to take it?
” Westin soothed away objections before they could happen, if Sun could even have managed any once Westin began to ready him properly.
Westin was patient and thorough and perhaps just mean enough about it to have shocked Hely.
He took his time because he enjoyed the task and because Sun had been squirming and fretting in a bath meant to melt such worries away and he needed to learn he didn’t have to do that.
This was correction.
“I’m ready,” Sun said after long moments of Westin spreading oil but not pushing in.
“You’re not,” Westin argued, but decided to finally indulge him.
Sun tensed for the first press inside, then gave way all at once as he always did, body heavy and hot around Westin’s fingers. No fear or worry, only ever hunger that would swallow all that Westin had. Westin pressed in to the knuckle and stopped there, holding still until Sun squirmed again.
“What did you think about in the bath?” Westin wondered, sparing a hand to hold Sun in place. “Me having you on one of the tables outside?”
Sun snarled something possibly not meant for Westin to hear.
“Ah.” Westin was briefly stunned. “Hely said so, but I didn’t believe it.”
“Hely.” Another snarl.
“Hely,” Westin agreed, resuming his work at a pace that would not suit Sun’s impatience, but not letting Sun do more than wriggle and complain.
“Does Hely like it this slow?” The more outraged Sun was, the slower Westin went. “Months, and I’m no delicate inn-blossom. Be honest and fuck me.”
That was too much, too wounded.
Westin pinched the inside of Sun’s thigh before resuming his careful work over the sound of Sun’s startled, even shocked, gasp. He waited for further complaints but apparently the pinch had settled his boy.
Sun was a gift, exactly as Hely had said. Westin could offer himself in return, for whatever he was worth.
“I’m yours whenever you need me. You know that. I know you do. Brat.” Westin emphasized that with the sudden push of three fingers and Sun scrabbled at the cushion and turned his head to pant.
“West,” he complained, then, “Wes,” the softer name, the one heard much less often.
“Lark-in-my-hand,” Westin answered, curling his fingers to make Sun’s knees give out. Sun moaned loud enough to be heard beyond the curtain. “Will you come visit me? Demand this from me?”
“West,” Sun complained again, attempting to crawl back up onto his knees only for Westin to stroke him inside again, firm and repetitive, while Sun jerked and failed to get a good hold on the cushion.
His rising gasps were beautiful, announcing as much as the shivers tearing through him that he was again close to peaking.
Westin could make Sun finish this way, deeper and messier but ultimately unsatisfying because it wasn’t what Sun was currently after.
Sun wanted Westin in him, pressed close and saying his name.
He thought of Westin when Westin was gone, and desired him, and trusted him this much.
They could build a life on that, if the brat wanted.
Westin wanted it so much that he didn’t care how foolish he was for offering. “Or you could stop worrying about Hely or any others and come with me, stay with me. I’ll be yours. I am yours, brat. That’s already true and has been for some time now.”
Sun made a small, broken sound as his knees gave out again.
Westin removed his fingers in order to take Sun by the waist and move him up and over.
Sun’s eyes met his, greedy and frightened, wholly dark and focused on Westin, and there was a stir in Westin’s chest, a rush of beat-of-four blood that had never been so strong before.
Take, it said, and even terrified, Westin liked it.
He liked everything about Sun, even the risk to his heart.
He tugged Sun’s pants the rest of the way off and tossed them to the other bench on top of Sun’s knife.
He pushed Sun’s knees up and half kneeled on the bench, and then he was sinking into Sun while Sun shuddered and sucked in breaths and tried to pull Westin in to force him deeper.
Sun would take all of him, Westin thought, over and over.
All of him, until Westin was balls deep and still, and even then, Sun would try to get more.
The space between them was hot, the position uncomfortable. Westin rocked into him with their faces close. Sun’s gaze was almost fae-black in the dim light and fixed on Westin. His mouth was open, his hands tangled in Westin’s hair.
“Lark.” Westin exhaled it, sweeping a hand along the outside of Sun’s thigh and then down beneath Sun to haul Sun against him, bending Sun nearly in half to meet his hips with every short thrust.
Sun gripped Westin’s shoulders and a handful of what remained of Westin’s braid and called Westin his private name for him clear enough to be heard at the bar.
“Wes. Wes, please.” With his voice hitching and the breath squeezed from him, and Westin doing all the work.
Westin panted over his ear and pulled Sun’s legs up higher, tighter, and Sun made a stuttering, wet sound and yanked Westin’s hair in his fist as he finished.
That was another order; Sun liked to feel a fuck long after the act was over.
Westin thrust into him a few more times to make Sun’s cries pained and pleased, and then pulled out to grind into the mess and add his own to it.
Sun liked that too, Westin’s seed all over him.
He liked Westin to spill inside but he sometimes begged for the mess.
Better than a cuff for showing who Sun had been with, or so the long-denied beat-of-four inside Westin insisted as Westin groaned and reached down to coax another few pearly drops onto Sun, and watched Sun’s muscles flutter beneath the spill, a sight far lovelier than gold.
He still had one of Sun’s thighs pushed nearly to Sun’s chest. Sun was breathing hard but not objecting, although he would soon. Westin thought the common room had grown louder, but it might have been the blood still pounding in his ears mingling with distant shocked murmurs.
He brushed a kiss over Sun’s forehead, the damp hair and the traces of sweat, and hoped he didn’t appear too anxious when Sun’s eyes came open.
“We should eat soon,” Westin heard himself saying, which, though true, was not what was in his heart. “If you still want to stay with me after, the bed will fit two.”
Sun narrowed his eyes, which suggested some displeasure as though he wasn’t catching his breath or covered in seed. The hint of color along his cheekbones was probably also at the back of his neck, bringing out the freckles he disliked so much but which he often allowed Westin to kiss, one by one.
Secret, stolen moments, Westin had always believed. Times when a recently-pleasured Sun allowed Westin to be foolish and tolerated his affection.
That was not the case, and if it ever had been, Sun had long since come to expect those moments. Even to look forward to them, Westin suspected, and released a deep sigh. Sun had trained Westin to please him, but Westin had done some training too, even if he hadn’t intended to.
“A bath in the morning,” he continued, wishing he’d brought enough with him to pay for two nights. “Violets for you? Gardenias? Roses? It’s not jewelry, but…”
Sun slapped a tired hand over his mouth. “Will you be with me in the bath?”
“Not if it smells like roses,” Westin answered honestly. “But I could be in the room, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Sun pulled his hand away. “You enjoyed thinking about me having the bath. That’s what you said.” He observed Westin intently. “If you’re with me, you could watch. Although, then—” Whatever he’d been about to say, he forgot as he moved his leg and winced.
Westin was off him in a heartbeat, reaching for a towel before gently helping Sun lower his legs and get comfortable. The brat lay back with his thighs open and his posture loose, allowing—expecting—Westin to clean him with his chin ever so slightly in the air.
“West,” Sun called after a while of Westin straightening his clothes and setting the towel aside and not thinking about the world beyond the curtain.
He wasn’t ready to leave yet. But Sun must not have been either, because he curled a finger to get Westin closer, then patted the spot on the bench next to him.
Westin sat with his hands on his knees, glancing briefly and with some small despair to his knitting, which had been shoved to the floor.
But he forgot it again quickly, startled by Sun curling up along the rest of the bench and using one of Westin’s thighs for a pillow.
Westin snatched his hands out of the way only just in time.