Chapter Thirty Nix
Nix
“Have fun, baby.”
Nix gets a kiss on his cheek before Luca slips into the bathroom and closes the door behind him. He hadn’t expected Luca to know he needed this moment alone with Grayson, but he was grateful for the unexpected privacy.
The scent of sweet basil is strong, even before Nix opens the door. When he does, his mouth goes dry, and his hands are immediately clammy. It’s a strange dichotomy—because Grayson is breathtaking.
He stands in the doorway, frozen, mouth parted slightly, throat bobbing as he swallows. He’s wearing a loose-fitting white button-up, the top three buttons undone, the bottom two left open just enough for Nix to glimpse the line of his abdomen. His close-fitting black trousers leave little to the imagination, and he’s already hard. His hair is half up, accentuating the high planes of his face, his full mouth bitten red, his dark eyes locked onto Nix like he’s seeing something he can’t quite believe.
Nix’s nerves tingle with barely concealed excitement, and all he can say is a simple “Hi.”
“Hi, Angel. You are gorgeous. Fuck.” Grayson’s trembling hand is around the back of his neck instantly, lips pressed to Nix’s in a kiss. He nips and sucks at Nix’s lower lip, and it’s all Nix can do to just hang on, fingertips tucked into the top of Grayson’s pants.
Time slows, and the world slips away. Nix isn’t sure how long they stand there, tongues licking into mouths and sighs of bliss echoing in Nix’s ears, his dick throbbing in time with his heartbeat. His panties rub against his hardness, and they are getting wetter by the second. His wolf thinks they could just pull them off and climb Grayson like a tree.
“Um…hey, you two lovebirds, either get on with your date so I can get out of here, or I am coming out to join in. I am feeling a bit lonely.” They break apart just enough to breathe each other’s air, and Nix meets Grayson’s eyes. There is adoration and heat in them, but also amusement.
“We should go.” Grayson doesn’t sound like he really wants to, and Nix agrees. The box spring of the missing mattress would do just as well. Even if it’s uncomfortable, Nix would let Grayson have him anywhere—he wants Grayson anywhere and everywhere.
“Yeah. I set up the Art House. It’s romantic and shit.” Grayson says it offhandedly, but his half-bond tingles, and Nix knows this is important to him.
But he chuckles because he’s supposed to. “Okay, I’d like to see it. Let’s go.” Nix steps back and raises his voice. “We’re going now, Luca. Love you.” When he looks back, Luca has already cracked the door open a sliver to watch them go, waggling a single finger through the crack in goodbye, so Nix blows him a kiss as Grayson waves.
“Bye, Luc. Be good.”
The rest of the house is quiet, the living room bathed in a golden glow from the setting sun. Nix spares a moment to wonder where everyone is and if they have found a few minutes of peace from this afternoon’s debacle. He turns his mental radar into those mates whose bonds he can see, and everyone’s lights are pulsing gently. Not content, exactly, but fine for the moment–even Jamie’s. He misses Finn’s and Leo’s lights and promises he will add them to his rainbow bouquet of bonds as soon as possible.
For now, though, he’s focused solely on Grayson Pearce.
The trip across the yard is chilly, as neither of them puts shoes on. They giggle and run down the faint path worn into the cool grass, and Nix gets his first look at Grayson’s Art House in the warm late afternoon sunshine—what do artists call it? The Golden Hour?
The sun glints off the skylights and the windows that surround most of the structure, burnishing it in the fading warmth of the fall sunshine. There is a door on the east side, and Grayson pulls him to a stop just outside.
“Promise me you won’t laugh?” The alpha’s scent is rich in nerves, and his half-formed bond buzzes like a live wire.
Pulling his mate’s hand to his lips, Nix whispers, “I would never.”
He must come to some conclusion because he nods and says, “Okay, and promise me that you’ll tell me if you don’t want to do anything I’ve got planned. Promise.” It’s sweet, and Nix just loves him more.
“I promise. Pinky swear.” Nix holds his pinky finger up, and Grayson grins, offering his own so they can link them together. “Come on, show me. I want to see everything .” Nix waggles his eyebrows, and the tension pops like a soap bubble.
The Art House is magnificent. Grayson has turned the inside of the large room into a beautiful fae wonderland. The late-day sunlight gilds everything in gold, and there are fairy lights hung high in the rafters. There is a tiny table in front of the fireplace, and Nix is sure he’s never eaten in front of a fire before. The low table is laden with covered dishes and beautiful, fragrant pink flowers in a vase. It’s romantic, and it brings a hot pink flush to his cheeks.
Grayson leads him farther into the room, and Nix can see the low platform bed with a million candles lighting up the crisp white sheets. “Gray,” he says again, and this time Nix wants to say more. Wants to tell his soulmate that he’s overwhelmed with how thoughtful it all is. Wants to tell him that no one has ever taken the time to do anything so romantic as this.
He’s at a loss for words, but he can at least tell him, “Thank you for doing all this.” It must have taken hours, and, knowing Grayson, he thought about making Nix happy the whole time. “I love it, Gray. I love you. ”
Laughing, Grayson picks Nix up so he can swing him around. “I am so fucking relieved.” It’s so cute to see this paragon of “cool” acting giddy and like a boy on his first date. It throws Nix even farther into love.
And Grayson is there to catch him.
Hey, do I smell dinner? I’m starving.”
Nix regrets the words the second they leave his mouth—memories he’d rather leave behind. Grayson’s face falls just slightly, but he rallies quickly, smoothing it over before Nix can take it back. He’s grateful for that. If Grayson isn’t ready to call him on it, then maybe he can keep it locked up a little longer. It’s easier that way.
But not here. Not now. Not in this beautiful space. Not with this beautiful person.
He clears his throat. “Yeah. Let’s eat while it’s hot. Jay and Leo picked it up for us a while ago. I hope you like it.”
Grayson ushers him to the small eating area and onto a fluffy cushion. The lovely bouquet of pink flowers smells of summer-past. They might be his new favorite. Grayson sits as close to him as he can manage while still being able to serve their dinner, so Nix is warmed by the fire on one side and his glowing mate on the other.
There’s a delicious crisp, cold, white wine and a salad with a tangy dressing, followed by creamy pasta with vegetables. Nix still can’t eat as much as he’d like, but he makes his best effort—especially when Grayson offers morsels of savory peppers or tangy tomatoes on the tines of his fork.
While they eat, Grayson asks him all the questions Nix thinks must be first-date questions—What’s his favorite color? Yellow. Favorite animal? Dogs, big ones. But he likes all animals. Mountains or beach? Beach. He misses the beach most of all. Florida seems a lifetime away.
In turn, Nix learns that Grayson loves all colors. A rainbow of canvases hanging on the few solid walls is proof of that. When Nix asks about the house’s neutral decor, Grayson confides that it’s meant to be a canvas for their lives.
He wanted his family to be the color—to add parts of themselves. And Nix can see that’s true: Gideon’s bowls of fruit and turquoise enamel pots, Finn’s “family” bookshelf in the living room, the spines in every shade of the rainbow—little pieces of them filling the space with life.
It makes Nix want to add something, too. Someday.
Grayson revealed he loves dogs best and is allergic to cats, but would take daily antihistamines so Gideon could have a million cats if his mate wanted. He tells stories of a tiny dog he’d loved as a child and, when Rex passed, how it had been his first genuine experience with grief.
Grief is something Nix understands, and when he asks his next question, he does so with a kiss on his soulmate’s cheek. Turns out Grayson loves the beach, too—but truly, he loves anywhere he can see beautiful things and make memories.
“Would you go to the beach with me? Soon? We could swim, and I can take hundreds of photos of you.” Grayson leans in to kiss him softly, and the wine is even more intoxicating from his lips than it is from the glass.
“Yes.” Kiss. “I will go anywhere with you, Gray.” Kiss. “Anywhere.” The idea of lying naked on a beach with Grayson and their mates ignites a flame in his belly. The scent of musky vanilla starts overflowing with their closeness.
“Fuck.” Grayson licks Nix’s lower lip. “Good to know.” He pulls back, shifts uncomfortably so he can adjust his cock in his pants.
Nix can’t help but follow the action with his eyes, and he sees the tip of Grayson’s leaking erection over the top of his waistband. It’s dark and angry-looking, and he wonders why Grayson isn’t urgent about relieving it. “Doesn’t it hurt?” He points his finger at the leaking dick and feels ridiculous once he’s done it
Grayson coughs a bit, a blush on his cheeks. “Oh. Um…yeah. A bit, but I like it.” He runs a finger over it and shivers.
“How long have you been…” Nix whispers as Grayson licks his precome off his finger. Nix wants to taste it, too. His panties are certainly ruined now, and when he moves, they’re slippery.
Grayson smirks and leans in to kiss him, and Nix gets a fleeting taste. “Since I started this afternoon. Thinking about you here, with me, like this—it gets me going.”
Nix is on his knees before he knows it, reaching for Grayson, intending to take him to the floor and lick him all over.
But Grayson’s sultry expression is suddenly replaced by uncertainty. “Hey, can I show you something?”
It’s hard to pull the wolf back when he’s flashing a hundred ways they can get their soulmate’s bond bite through Nix’s mind at the speed of light. But this is important to Grayson, and if it’s important to him, Nix will do everything in his power to give it to him. Besides, there’s a pleasant ache in Nix’s belly. Maybe Grayson’s onto something.
He can wait.
“Is this where you show me your etchings, good sir?” Nix still finds the old euphemism hilarious, and they must really be soulmates because Grayson laughs again.
“Yup. Come on.” He throws back the last of his wine and leads him toward a large, covered easel.
“Wait. For real?”
Gray wants to share his art, and Nix has always been of the mind that art, no matter its form, is a piece of the artist’s heart and soul. He’s so honored his mate would share that with him.
When the cloth is pulled away, he is stunned. It’s undoubtedly a large canvas in oil, and it’s of him .
“Gray. Holy shit. When did you have time to do this?” Nix can see the multitudes of brush strokes in yellow and pink and black and white. Even his freckles, especially the heart-shaped one near his eye. It’s overwhelming, and unshed tears burn behind his eyes. “It’s beautiful. You are so talented, love.”
His mate’s face has a lovely pink blush. “You really think so? I finished it the day you came home—but I started it months ago.”
“But you haven’t known me that long.” Nix notices his eyes are blue in the painting. “How?” He wants to touch it and see if he can feel the brushstrokes under his fingers, see if he can feel Grayson in each one.
“I dreamed of you. Crazy, right? It was only bits and pieces until I saw you for the first time in the ICU.” The memory is painful, and Grayson clears his throat before continuing. “I should have known you would be special. Your eyes were blue in my dreams, you know? Like they are when your wolf is talking.”
“You dreamed about me before we met? Whoa. Hey, wait. My eyes are blue? When?” Nix isn’t sure which of Grayson’s statements is crazier to hear.
“You didn’t know? Yeah. In the same way, an alpha’s turns red—so not all the time. Glowy and awesome.”
That there are parts of himself that Nix still doesn’t yet know reminds him of those early days. Early days. Ha. It’s been just more than a week. Even so, they’ve come a long way. It doesn’t scare him like it did then, because learning is easier when he has his mates. He can handle the new things because while they might be frightening, his mates hold him through them, even if they’re hard.
They are only going to get harder.
“So, dreaming of me. Soulmates, then?” Nix is still looking at the painting. There’s heavy emotion in those sad eyes, and yet Grayson still sees him as beautiful.
Grayson wraps Nix in his powerful arms and puts his chin on Nix’s shoulder. “Yeah. That alright with you?” His scent is nervous, and Nix rubs his soulmate’s arms soothingly.
“I don’t know what it means, but as long as you’re with me, I’m not scared, Grayson,” Nix says quietly. “Feels right when you say it.”
“Together,” Grayson says.
“Together.”
Grayson turns him in his arms so he can press a light kiss to his lips. “Mmm. Do you want to try something with me? It’s my big ‘date’ idea. I’ve always wanted to try it, but it never seemed right, and it’s kind of messy–”
“Yes. Gray, I promise I will give it a try, no matter what.”
“Do you want to paint each other and then roll around on an enormous canvas?”
“I’m sorry?” Nix admits he hadn’t expected that. “You know what? Don’t explain it. Show me.”
“Yes! Help me?”
Grayson takes a minute to put more wood on the fire just as it starts to thunderstorm outside. The Art House is silent except for the rain and the crackling of the fire. Together, they roll the blank black canvas out on the floor. It’s large, maybe ten feet by ten feet square.
“I’ve had this body-safe acrylic paint for a while. That way, we won’t have to bathe in turpentine, and if it gets anywhere it shouldn’t, then…oh, Goddess. Shut up, Grayson.” Grayson rubs a hand down his face, and Nix decides that an embarrassed Grayson is a snack.
Nix giggles and reaches for his alpha’s shirt buttons. “Oh, pray tell, where might I be getting this paint that I wouldn’t want to have regrets?” Nix asks, voice deep. He gets the few remaining shirt buttons undone and leans in to kiss his mate right over his heart, then moves to lick his nipple and tug on that tempting piercing.
“Angel,” Grayson whines. “You said you wouldn’t laugh.”
“I’m sorry. I won’t tease. Poor baby. Come on, then. Paint me like one of your French girls.”
“That’s not very nice,” Grayson says with a pout, and Nix has to repeat it back to him with a giggle.
“I can be very nice.” He pulls the strings, holding the flowy shirt closed, revealing his tiny white panties while waiting for Grayson to say something. “Gray?”
His mate touches the healing wound he received this afternoon and looks up in shock. “Nix. Rowan said you were hurt, not that you almost lost your guts on the gym floor. What–”
“Please, Gray. Don’t. Not right now? I just want to be here with you and pretend the rest of the world doesn’t exist for a few hours. Can you give me that? Please?” The memories leave a bad taste in his mouth, and he doesn’t want to take the shine off the wonderful evening they’ve had.
Grayson hesitates, but in the end, he takes a deep breath and gives Nix a small nod. “Okay. But later?”
“Mmm.” Nix is noncommittal on purpose, and he hopes he won’t have to talk about it all. He takes his palms and runs them down over his belly in what he hopes is an alluring way, and it’s easy to get Grayson’s attention back where he wants it—on them and pleasure.
“ Fuck me, Angel. How are you even real? You were made for me.” His soulmate runs a soft finger down the center line of his body, from his forehead over his nose and lip, down his throat and over his breastbone, to his navel, where he stops and circles it gently, careful to avoid the wound this time. It causes the ache that’s been simmering in Nix’s belly to burst into flame, making his scent bloom.
Nostrils flaring, Grayson groans. That slim finger rubs over the head of Nix’s dick through his panties. “These are so pretty, Angel. I want to buy you a hundred more pairs. Then you could wear them every day. Do you like red? Or maybe pink? Fuck, yes, pale pink.”
“Luca might mutiny,” Nix says, panting quietly at the pleasurable sparks from just that single finger.
Grayson huffs. “Even he can’t possibly complain about how pretty you are in these.” Nix is aware of the irony of who they belonged to before Nix came to ruin them in Grayson’s Art House. Grayson crouches down and then looks up through long black lashes, face glowing in the heat of the fire and light of the candles. “Can I?”
“Fuck, yes, please.”
Grayson places the softest kiss on the front of the panties, right over the head of Nix’s dick, suckling at the moisture there before he tucks his fingers in and draws them all the way down. Standing, he slides Gideon’s borrowed shirt down Nix’s arms so he can lay both items over a nearby stool. He adds his shirt to the growing pile.
“Oh, Gray. It’s been too long since I saw you this way. Pants, please.”
Grayson complies, and in seconds, they’re both bared to the firelight. He’s so long and lean, covered with smooth golden skin, and Nix can’t wait a moment longer. “Gray, if we are painting, can we do this? Because I need you sooner rather than later.”
“Impatient,” Grayson huffs out with a small laugh. “I want to remember this forever, Angel. Gonna hang this in the living room so everyone can see the art we made the night we joined our souls together for eternity. You can hang on for me, right?” It’s whispered as his soulmate tilts Nix’s chin up and runs his thumb over his wet lower lip.
Oh, fuck. Nix hopes Grayson doesn’t mind slick mixed with the paint on his canvas because it’s coating the insides of his thighs.
“Yes. For you. Anything,” he pants.
Grayson fills his palms with lavender and yellow paint from the bowls on the workbench. The first touch is cool, but it slowly warms under Grayson’s large palms. He slides them over Nix’s shoulders and down over his chest, slicking over Nix’s hard nipples and down his belly.
The shapes of his large hands are marking Nix in ways that are more than skin deep.
He adds pale blue, and Nix is already breathing hard. Grayson is focused on how the color covers Nix’s skin, but when he reaches the tops of his thighs, he looks up, and there is fire burning in his gaze.
“Oh Goddess, Gray,” Nix begs. “Yes.”
Grayson grasps his dick in a firm hand, using the pale blue paint to smooth his way, pumping Nix slowly until he’s impossibly harder. Grayson finds a spot on his hip where he’s missed putting paint, and he licks and sucks the skin. Nix’s moans are loud in the room, and he almost cries with his frustration when Grayson doesn’t sink his teeth in, but stops and rises to his feet.
“Now you, Angel,” Grayson pants, lips red.
Okay, he can do this. He can hang on for Grayson.
Nix chooses a deep blue and a shimmering bronze. He slides both hands over Grayson’s shoulders and down his sides, obscuring his rose tattoo and, finally, over his abs. Grayson is gilded even more in the firelight, and now he glows like a sculpture you’d find in a museum. He follows the line of Grayson’s happy trail down and tries to grasp his alpha’s cock, but a hand stops him.
“Paint as lube is probably not the best idea, Angel. Don’t want to hurt you—just in case.”
It gives Nix a brief flash of where that cock is going to be soon, but it’s that his mate is so thoughtful that it makes his soul soar. “Okay. But next time?” It feels so good to be loved and that someone is thinking of ways to protect him and not ways to hurt him.
Grayson nods, and his next choice of paint is a bright turquoise and dark purple. He comes up behind Nix and drops into a low crouch. He runs both his hands up Nix’s legs and mixes the slick from between his thighs into the paint. Nix feels Grayson’s nose press into the base of his spine. “Already have fairy glitter here, Angel-baby. Makes me want to lick it off.”
“Luca says it’s edible. So do that. Lick,” Nix gasps.
Grayson’s tongue is hot, and when Nix looks down, he sees two handprints in paint on his hips over Gideon and Luca’s bites. Grayson stands and runs a hand up his back, and Nix tries not to flinch when he feels his mouth between his shoulder blades.
Memories of another mouth causing pain threaten to surface, but this time, Nix’s wolf helps him hold the lid on that mental box firmly closed instead of always trying to rip it clean off. Grayson has gone stock-still behind him, clearly having felt the tension in his body.
“It’s okay,” Nix murmurs. They both know it’s not, but for now, it can be.
It’s only a moment before Grayson resumes his slippery painting over Nix’s ass, and by the time Grayson is done, Nix is covered neck-to-toe with color.
“My turn, love.” More handfuls of red, pale green, and the softest yellow bathe Grayson’s lean muscles, and his mate is breathless. “So beautiful.”
It’s whispered into Grayson’s chest and punctuated by a sharp nip. When Grayson is finally covered in color, Nix thinks that together, they look fit for a fairy ball.
“Now what?” Nix’s urgency has faded somewhat into a steady ache, and, together with the soft touches and their combined scents, he thinks he might be able to exist forever in this state of arousal.
In his floaty space, Nix can already see his glowing silver light reaching out toward Grayson and a faint iridescent pink meeting it halfway. The soulmate bond has already begun with just their intentions—the bite will only complete what they’ve already begun.
“Here. Let me–” Grayson picks him up and lays him gently in the center of the canvas on his back, only to step back to just stare. “Oh fuck. You look like an Angel for real, baby.”
“Hurry, Gray. I’m cold without you,” Nix says, eyes slipping closed.
“Look at me, Angel.” Grayson is kneeling on the canvas beside him then, and Nix just opens his arms.
“Love you, Gray. Make me yours.”
Grayson groans and runs a hand with iridescent purple paint over his throat and up over his lips. It’s tasteless except for the tinge of his slick.
Grayson leans in for a demanding kiss. “Let me in.”
Nix opens his mouth, and Grayson’s tongue licks into his mouth, only to bite at his lower lip and pull. “So beautiful, and you smell like heaven. My heaven.” Grayson rolls over on the canvas, pulling Nix with him. His dark hair fans out while his body makes his mark on the canvas.
“You are a work of art, Gray—inside and out.” Nix straddles Grayson’s belly, and he can’t resist any longer. Wiping his palms on the canvas, he’s still aware enough to be mindful of Grayson’s warning. When he’s free of most of the paint, he gets a hand on Grayson’s cock. It’s still so hard after all this time, and the base is thick enough that when Nix squeezes it, Grayson shivers.
Nix bends over and sucks him deep into his mouth. His soulmate’s sweet taste takes him back to that first night when he bonded with Gray, not knowing what he was doing but needing it just the same. Pulling off, Nix licks over his mark. All healed. Seeing it makes his wolf want to renew his bite.
“Do it, Angel.” Grayson grasps the canvas in his fingers, bracing for Nix’s teeth in his skin.
He doesn’t need a second invitation and sinks his fangs into the same place as he’d given the bite a week ago. This bite won’t stay, but for now, it’s beautiful—maybe he’ll renew it every time it fades from pink to white. He only has a moment to admire it when Grayson rolls him onto his back, with Grayson’s chest flat on his own. They slip together, mixing the colors of their love into a lustrous mess.
It’s not long before Nix lifts his legs high on Grayson’s waist, grinding his hardness up into his mate’s, only to hiss in pleasure. It’s so good. Gray cleans his fingers off on the canvas, too, making Nix shiver at the thought of where Grayson is going to put them.
In no time at all, Grayson’s long fingers are sliding in between his cheeks. He shivers at the feeling of two pushing past his rim. Nix clenches tight as his body tries to suck them in.
“Such a hungry hole.” Gray pulls them out only to come right back and push three in up to the second knuckle. Nix feels full—but not full enough—and when his soulmate pumps them in and out, they glance against his prostate.
It lights him up, his calm fleeing in the wake of his desire—Nix is not above begging. “Fuck me, Grayson. Fuck me, now.”
“I feel like I have missed you forever.” In the next instant, Grayson is up on his knees, pulling Nix’s legs up around his waist, paint-covered chest lit up with a shock of lightning overhead. “But I love to hear you beg. Relax for me.”
He lines up his cock, and then he’s pushing the tip inside. Grayson is deliciously thick as he slides in. Crying out in relief, Nix bears down, wrapping his hand around Grayson’s neck so that he can pull him in for a kiss.
Grayson starts at an unhurried pace, and the pleasure builds like rolling thunder. Fast and then slow, wave after wave of pleasure. Pushing them toward the edge and then drawing them back, only to start again. Nix inhales the scent of fresh basil, incense, and paint, letting that floaty place carry them both without thought or time.
When Grayson finally takes them higher, thrusts hard and more erratically, Nix can feel the fire in his soul ignite. “Come with me, love,” Grayson begs.
Nix’s pleasure explodes then, and he shakes and shudders, shouting Grayson’s name. His soulmate pushes his knot past Nix’s tight rim with a deep groan as he works to keep Nix riding the crest of his orgasm.
“Gray.” Nix tilts his head to the right as if he’d known that Grayson would want to leave the left side as sacred for Jamie.
“You are mine, Angel.” Grayson rubs his hand over the spot high on his throat under his ear and bites.
It scorches through the bond, and Nix screams. It’s a fire burning through his soul, and he can see the two halves of his and Grayson’s souls sealed together behind his eyes. It’s pain—like fire and rebirth.
They are remade.
Again—finally, a single soul, a silver-white and rose shimmering nebula that surges when Grayson comes with a shout.
Nix comes a second time, the dark behind his eyelids lighting up with fireworks.
When Grayson collapses on top of him, he draws a deep breath and locks his ankles over Grayson’s ass, using his grip to pull him even further in. He’s heavy, but Nix is grateful Grayson’s knot is keeping him right there.
He abruptly remembers that they are lying on the rapidly drying canvas, and there is paint in their hair and other places Nix probably doesn’t want the paint to dry. Even if Grayson said it was body-safe and non-toxic, Nix is not taking any chances.
“Gray, show me your beautiful eyes.” He runs a messy hand through Grayson’s hair. It had fallen out of his ribbon, and now it lies over his eyes and cheeks. So beautiful. Like their soul, joined at last. When Nix looks inward, he can see Grayson’s rose merging with red, magenta, turquoise, and purple, pulsing and twisting together in a rainbow of color.
Still missing two, but closer now than he’s ever been to finally feeling complete. It settles his wolf with a deep satisfaction. This quiet symbiosis is much appreciated, and Nix thinks he could live with it just like this.
Grayson groans and opens his eyes with a smile. “Hi.”
“Hi.” Nix wiggles and Grayson groans.
“After my knot goes down, we should shower, and then we can have some dessert. I have chocolate.” Grayson shivers and groans as Nix clenches.
Nix wiggles again, and Grayson’s knot slips free. Nix can feel the mix of slick and come—of Nix and Grayson—soaking into the canvas. “Gray, how are we getting out of this? I don’t want to wreck it.”
“Good fucking question. If you lie still, I’ll try to get off and then lift you out. Okay?” Grayson stands, and he pulls Nix almost straight up and into his arms, placing him on his feet at the bottom of the canvas.
Nix can’t believe it. The canvas is…well, it’s perfect.
The black background is covered in tiny shimmering splatters like a night sky, and while it shouldn’t be possible, there are Nix and Grayson shapes in rose-gold and silver-white. The most incredible thing is that there are streaks of the same colors in streaks bursting out from their bodies like an explosion, like the manifestation of their soul bond, made art.
“Um…Grayson. How does it look like that?” It’s not at all where they had applied the color on each other’s bodies. In fact, Nix had been sure it would be a muddy mess. There’s something off about the paint, but Nix can’t put his finger on it. It’s not just the shapes…but something else, too.
“Fuck if I know. Holy shit. It should be a fucking mess.” It should be, but it isn’t. He sighs and kisses Nix’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s get the paint off and then look at it again with fresh eyes—maybe we’re both having paint fume hallucinations.”
Nix lets his skepticism show on his face, especially since there were no strong scents. The only thing Nix can smell is basil-vanilla, incense, and come. Delicious.
Nix lets his skepticism show on his face, but Grayson just kisses his temple and pulls him toward the shower. The steam rises around them, washing away the last traces of paint—but when they step out, Nix catches something out of the corner of his eye.
The painting. It hasn’t changed.
Still pink and gold and silvery-white—their bodies too perfect to be real.
Nix swallows. Something flickers in his chest, a shiver of recognition, but before he can grasp the thought, Grayson tugs him forward, warm and solid in the candlelight. They run barefoot back to the nest, hand in hand, laughing like they’re untouchable.
For tonight, they are.
Tomorrow, there will be questions. There will be worries. There will be the pack and everything waiting outside this perfect little world they’ve created.
But for now, there is only Grayson.
And the way their souls shine, even in the dark.