Chapter Nine #2
Vale stared at Cyril for a moment before nodding. Neither of them knew what the future held, but Cyril was scared. What if one of them got hurt? What if this was one of the last moments they had together? He wanted to forget that they’d fought and to make the most of their time together.
He kissed Vale’s cheek again. “I’ll be in bed when you’re done.
” It was a promise that Cyril intended to keep.
He understood why Vale’s phone call was important, but he wanted to forget all about Helena and her organization for a bit.
He already knew they weren’t going anywhere and that Helena wasn’t done with them.
She wanted Vale dead and for Cyril to work for her, and she sounded like the type of person who would do anything to obtain what she wanted.
Cyril would fight, but there was no way to know how it would end.
That was why he needed to make the most of what he had now.
While he could.
* * * *
VALE LEANED AGAINST the doorframe, arms crossed, watching Cyril. He felt like he was losing him, even though they’d made up. They were running out of time, and neither of them knew what would happen with Helena.
Whatever it was, it wouldn’t be good, and there was a good chance that one or both of them would be hurt.
“Are you done with work?” Cyril asked without looking up from the book he was reading.
Unless Vale was wrong, it was one of the books on necromancy that Cyril usually kept in the living room.
“I am.” Vale pushed off the doorframe and crossed the room. “It’s late. You need to rest.”
Cyril sighed, putting down his book. “I hoped to find something in here about my ability and Oscar changing.”
He was wearing a soft t-shirt and his hair was messy. If he’d been studying the book for as long as Vale had been on the phone, he had to have run his fingers through his hair. Vale knew that was what he did when he was focused.
Vale reached out, his hand hovering before he brushed a strand of soft hair away from Cyril’s forehead. The touch was light, almost tentative, but it was enough to make Cyril react. For a second, Vale thought Cyril would push him away, but he didn’t.
“You’re no good to anyone if you collapse,” Vale murmured, his voice softening. “Let me take care of you.”
There was something fragile in Cyril’s expression that made Vale’s chest tighten. It hadn’t been like this before, and Vale hoped it would stop once things between them healed. It would take some time for both of them, but it would happen—as long as Helena didn’t kill one of them first.
“I don’t know what to do,” Cyril admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I need to do something, but I don’t know what. I hate feeling useless.”
Vale cupped Cyril’s cheek and brushed his thumb over the line of his jaw. “You’re not,” he said firmly. He wanted Cyril to believe him.
Cyril’s breath stuttered, and he leaned into the touch, his eyes fluttering shut. Vale could feel the tension in him. He leaned closer, kneeling onto the mattress, his other hand coming to rest on the side of Cyril’s neck. Cyril reached up, wrapping his fingers around one of Vale’s wrists.
“You don’t have to do it all alone,” Vale murmured, brushing his lips against Cyril’s temple. “Let me help you.”
Cyril’s fingers tightened around Vale’s wrist. “I don’t know how,” he admitted.
“Then let me show you,” Vale said. He tilted Cyril’s chin up. There was a moment of hesitation, a flicker of uncertainty in Cyril’s gaze, but then he nodded, almost imperceptibly.
Vale closed the distance between them to capture Cyril’s lips in a kiss that was soft but insistent.
It wasn’t demanding—it was a promise, a reassurance that everything would be okay.
Cyril melted into it, his hands sliding up to wrap around Vale’s neck as he kissed him back with a desperation that made Vale’s heart ache.
He’d almost lost this. He still might lose it, but he didn’t want to think about it. The danger would still be there tomorrow. He could worry then.
The kiss deepened slowly, their bodies pressing closer together as the tension between them turned into something warmer. Vale’s hands roamed over Cyril’s back, tracing the lines of his spine through the thin fabric of his shirt. Cyril clung to Vale, tangling his fingers into Vale’s hair.
When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathing heavily. Vale pressed their foreheads together. Cyril’s eyes were closed, his lashes casting delicate shadows on his cheeks. Vale brushed a strand of hair away from his face, his heart aching with how beautiful Cyril was.
Vale reached for the bottom of Cyril’s shirt, his movements slow and deliberate in case Cyril changed his mind. Cyril watched him with wide eyes, his chest rising and falling rapidly as Vale exposed more and more of his skin.
“You don’t have to—” Cyril started, but Vale cut him off with a look.
“I want to,” Vale said simply. He pushed the t-shirt off Cyril’s body, letting it fall to the floor.
His hands skimmed over Cyril’s chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath his palm.
“You’re so tense,” he murmured, his fingers tracing the lines of Cyril’s collarbone. “Let me help you relax.”
Cyril swallowed hard, his hands gripping the sheets as Vale leaned in to press a kiss to the hollow of his throat. His breath caught, a soft sound escaping him as Vale’s lips moved lower, trailing down his chest.
“Vale,” Cyril whispered, his voice trembling.
Vale looked up at him. “Trust me,” he said, his voice low and rough. He needed to know that Cyril trusted him after everything that had happened.
Cyril nodded, his hands moving to grip Vale’s shoulders as Vale continued to explore his body with his lips and hands. Every touch was gentle but deliberate, designed to soothe Cyril and make him feel cherished.
By the time Vale pulled back, Cyril was trembling, his skin flushed and his breathing shaky. Vale cupped his face in his hands again, brushing a thumb over his cheekbone. “Better?” he asked softly.
Cyril nodded, his eyes searching Vale’s face. “Yes, but it’s not enough,” he whispered.
Vale smiled, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to Cyril’s lips. “I’ll take care of you,” he murmured.
They stayed like that for a moment, enjoying each other’s presence.
Then Cyril shifted, his hands moving to the hem of Vale’s t-shirt.
“Your turn,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with a shyness that made Vale’s heart swell.
Even after the time they’d spent together, sometimes, Cyril was still hesitant and awkward, and it was adorable.
Vale let Cyril pull the t-shirt over his head and toss it aside. Cyril’s hands hesitated for only a second before they began to explore Vale’s chest, his touch tentative. Vale watched him with a soft expression, his hands resting lightly on Cyril’s hips.
“You don’t have to be nervous,” Vale said gently. “We’re fine. Everything’s fine.”
Cyril glanced up at him, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I’m not nervous,” he said. “I just wasn’t sure I could still have this at one point.”
Vale caught one of Cyril’s hands and brought it to his lips. “You do have me,” he said, kissing Cyril’s knuckles. “For however long you want me.”
Cyril’s smile widened, and he leaned in to kiss Vale again, this time with more confidence.
Their bodies pressed together, skin against skin, as the world outside faded away.
For the first time in what felt like forever, Vale felt like he could breathe.
Cyril was in his arms, and everything was perfect in Vale’s world.
Vale’s breath caught as Cyril’s fingers trailed over the jagged line of a scar that ran across his chest. The touch was feather-light, as if Cyril was afraid of breaking him. Vale’s skin prickled, a shiver of warmth spreading outward from where Cyril’s fingertips lingered.
“This one,” Cyril murmured, his voice low and contemplative, “how did you get it?” His dark eyes flicked up to meet Vale’s, curiosity mixing with something softer that made Vale’s chest tighten.
“A knife,” Vale replied, his voice rougher than he intended.
He didn’t elaborate—he didn’t need to. Cyril’s gaze held his, understanding passing between them without words.
Cyril’s lips parted slightly, and for a moment, Vale thought he might speak.
Instead, Cyril leaned down, pressing his mouth to the scar in a kiss so tender it made Vale’s breath hitch.
Cyril’s lips moved slowly, following the path of the scar as if he was mapping it.
Each kiss was deliberate, almost reverent, and Vale felt exposed in a way he hadn’t in years.
His hands twitched at his sides, wanting to reach out to pull Cyril closer, but he held himself still, letting Cyril take the lead.
Vale suspected that Cyril needed it after everything.
Cyril’s fingers drifted lower, tracing another mark—this one smaller, a puckered circle just above his hip. “And this?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Bullet,” Vale said simply. His voice was strained now, the weight of Cyril’s touch making it hard to think.
Cyril hummed softly, his breath warm against Vale’s skin as he kissed the scar, his tongue flicking out to taste the old wound. Vale’s stomach clenched, a low groan escaping him before he could stop it.
Cyril glanced up at him, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Sensitive?”
Vale finally gave in to the urge to touch his boyfriend.
He reached out, tangling his fingers in Cyril’s hair and pulling him up for a kiss.
Cyril melted into it, his body pressing against Vale’s as their mouths moved together.
Vale’s other hand slid down Cyril’s back, gripping his hip and pulling him even closer until there was no space left between them.
Cyril broke the kiss with a gasp, his chest rising and falling rapidly. His eyes were dark with desire, and Vale could feel the heat radiating off him. “I love you,” Cyril murmured.
“I love you, too,” Vale murmured back.
He rolled them over, pinning Cyril under him and capturing his lips again. Cyril moaned into the kiss, his hands roaming over Vale’s shoulders and down his arms.
Vale’s mouth moved to Cyril’s neck. He nipped at the sensitive skin until Cyril was arching beneath him, his breath coming in short, uneven gasps. “Vale,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “Please.”
The plea sent a surge of lust through Vale, and he pulled back just enough to meet Cyril’s gaze. “Tell me what you want,” he demanded.
Cyril’s cheeks flushed, but he didn’t look away. “You,” he said simply. “Always you.”
Vale’s lips curved into a smile as he leaned down to kiss Cyril again.
His hands moved between them, fumbling with Cyril’s pants until he could push them down and out of the way.
Cyril gasped as Vale’s hand wrapped around him, stroking slowly but firmly.
His hips bucked, seeking more friction, more pressure that Vale was happy to give him.
“I love you,” Vale murmured against Cyril’s lips. He could feel Cyril trembling beneath him, could hear the way his breathing hitched with every stroke. It was intoxicating to know that he had this effect on Cyril—to know that he could unravel him with just a touch and that Cyril was his.
Cyril’s hands clawed at Vale’s back. “Vale,” he said and gasped, his voice breaking on the word. “I need—”
“I know,” Vale interrupted.
They were both out of patience, so he finished undressing, then snatched the lube from the nightstand and turned back to Cyril. He was flushed and gorgeous, and he opened his legs for Vale instantly.
Vale kissed Cyril’s thighs and his stomach as he got him ready.
Vale was quick but thorough—always thorough because he never wanted to hurt Cyril.
He could feel his boyfriend’s body trembling in anticipation, and he didn’t have it in him to waste more time.
Cyril was ready. Vale had made sure of it.
He shifted position, lining himself up and pushing inside in one smooth motion. Cyril cried out, his body arching off the bed. Vale paused, giving him a moment to adjust, but Cyril wasn’t having it. He wrapped his legs around Vale’s waist, pulling him deeper.
“Move,” Cyril demanded.
Vale obeyed, setting a slow, deliberate pace that had Cyril moaning with every thrust. The sound went straight to Vale’s cock, and he couldn’t help but speed up, driving into Cyril with increasing urgency.
Cyril’s hands clung to him, his nails digging into Vale’s shoulders as he met each thrust with a roll of his hips.
The room was filled with the sounds of their breathing—short gasps mingling with the slick slide of skin against skin.
Vale could feel the pleasure coiling in his gut and the way Cyril’s body tightened around him as he neared the edge.
He reached between them, wrapping his hand around Cyril’s cock and stroking in time with his thrusts.
Cyril’s back arched, a strangled cry escaping his lips as he came, spilling over Vale’s hand. The sight of him with his eyes closed and lips parted was enough to push Vale over the edge. He buried himself deep inside Cyril with a low groan, his own pleasure washing over him in waves.
For a moment, they stayed like that, their bodies pressed together as they caught their breath. Then Vale shifted, pulling out and collapsing onto the bed beside Cyril. Cyril turned to face him, a lazy smile tugging at his lips.
“You’re incredible,” he murmured, reaching out to trace a finger along Vale’s jaw.
Vale caught his hand, bringing it to his lips and pressing a kiss to the palm. “So are you,” he replied. Almost losing Cyril had been enough for him to know he never wanted to go through that again. Whatever happened with Helena, he’d make sure Cyril knew he could always trust him from now on.
Cyril’s smile widened, and he leaned in to kiss Vale again, slow and lingering. When he pulled back, there was a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Think you can go again?”
Vale raised an eyebrow. “Is that a challenge?” He’d missed this playful Cyril, and he was glad he had him back.
Cyril laughed softly, his fingers trailing down Vale’s chest. “Maybe.”