Chapter 9 #2
A few children were watching him and giggling. Petur eyed them, contemplating whether he should change into a more defensible form, but then one of them tentatively held out a piece of dried squid, and … Well. That was certainly permissible.
He spent the next hour playing with the children, accepting treats and doing little tricks for them. Some of their parents came out to watch and make sure he was no danger, but a few bats of his big otter eyes were enough to soften them.
“Shifter Corps?” one of the older men asked. Petur nodded.
“Good on you,” he said. “Was a hound myself, back when the old king and queen ruled. Got a grandson I’m training up now, in case he wants to go for it too.”
That was nice. It was heartening to see families that had the ability, carrying it on from one generation to the next.
“You like working for the prince and his Harrier?” the old man went on.
Petur nodded briskly.
“I’ve heard good things, but I’ve also heard bad.”
What? Who was saying bad things about Deyvid? Petur would string them up by their toes.
“They say the prince is a wild thing, too clever and confident by half.”
Oh, they were saying bad things about him? That was acceptable. Petur did a little back-and-forth tilt of his head, trying to indicate that he didn’t have much of an opinion either way.
“You work with him?”
Petur nodded.
“Must be high ranking, then.” The man smiled. “Should I be saluting you, sir?”
Petur lifted himself up onto his hind paws and struck as close to a formal pose as he could. The old man burst out laughing and then, true to his word, gave him a salute. “Well, then! Pleased to make your acquaintance, sir. Glad that your route took you out our way today.”
“It would have been nice if you’d let the rest of us know,” a new voice said. The old man stiffened with alarm, but Petur turned and bounded over to where Deyvid was leaning against a wall, pleased as could be to have been hunted down by him.
I knew you’d look for me. You love me, adore me, you can’t live without me. Right? Right? You feel the same way, don’t you? He cavorted back and forth in front of his lover, and Deyvid laughed.
“Yes, you’re a very wild and free creature, aren’t you?” He glanced over at their company. “I hope this soldier hasn’t been disturbing you.”
“Not at all,” the old man said, his hackles slowly lowering. “He was good company, good to the children especially. Not sure why you sent him out so far, but we’ve enjoyed him.”
“He sent himself,” Deyvid replied wryly. “But I’m glad he behaved. However, it’s time to return to the barracks.” He looked down at Petur. “I’ve clothes if you’d like to shift back.”
Part of him wanted to, but more of him liked being exactly as he was.
He shook his head, and Deyvid laughed again.
“Have it your way. I brought Mara; she can take you like this.” Mara was the latest horse he was training up for Petur’s use, and part of that was getting her accustomed to being comfortable around him in all his forms. She could handle everything except the warrior, and Deyvid was confident he’d get her there.
He brought Mara around, then placed Petur at the front of the saddle before getting up himself.
“Enjoy your evening, sir,” Deyvid said before turning Mara toward the palace.
“Aye, you two as well.”
Petur, tired after the day he’d had and comforted by the scent of his lover so close, closed his eyes and relaxed against the saddle horn.
He fell asleep between one step and the next and didn’t even register they were back to the barracks until Deyvid was lifting him down but keeping a hold on him.
“The bath’s been refreshed for you,” he said quietly as he handed Mara’s reins off to someone else. That was unlike Deyvid; he usually preferred to tend to his horses on his own, as part of the bonding process. Something must be wrong. “I’ll take you there, all right?”
Oh, he thought something was wrong with Petur.
That would explain it. Petur thought about shifting right then and there to remind Deyvid that he was always perfect, thank you very much, but …
it felt like so much trouble at the moment.
And his arm still hurt, and Deyvid’s embrace was strong and warm, and …
He gave in and let Deyvid carry him. They had a private bath, one of the few luxuries Deyvid allowed himself in the barracks, and when they got there, the water was cool and refreshingly clean.
Petur slipped from Deyvid’s arms into the tub and turned some lazy circles, then surfaced and began grooming himself again.
He kept his eyes on Deyvid, though, and when it looked like his lover was just going to stand there and watch, he splashed a paw full of water at him, sending spatters all over his jerkin.
“Thank you so much,” Deyvid said with an eyeroll. “Just what I needed. I’m fine here.”
Splash.
“Petur!”
Splash.
“You absolute menace,” Deyvid muttered, but at least he was getting undressed now.
A moment later, he joined Petur in the tub, shivering just a bit.
The shivers went away as he adapted to the temperature, and then he was reaching out and rubbing his fingertips over Petur’s belly, messing up all his careful grooming work and doing so delightfully.
Petur rolled and preened, lifting his arms to encourage more pets, and Deyvid hissed in sympathy.
“What happened here, sweetheart?”
Ha, like Petur was going to tell him. It was already mostly healed anyway. He’d be without fur there for a day, but the damage to his skin was repairing itself quickly, the benefit of shifting magic.
A benefit Deyvid didn’t have. Magic couldn’t touch him; he’d built his entire life around that fact, honed his skills to reflect it.
But as unique and exceptional as those skills were, they meant that Deyvid was uniquely vulnerable as well.
He could be hurt, just like any man, and die of those wounds instead of healing them magically.
He could be poisoned, and no spell would be able to save him.
He could get a fucking splinter, which could fester into something terrible, and Petur would only be able to watch as Deyvid suffered and died.
Maybe he wouldn’t even be able to watch, maybe he’d be married and sent away and—
“Sweetheart.” Deyvid gathered Petur in close, and only then did he realize he was whining squeakily, little otter noises of distress. Deyvid pulled him against his chest, and before he knew he was going to, Petur shifted back into his human form.
“Oof.”
“Sorry,” Petur breathed, wrapping his arms around Deyvid’s neck. “I’m sorry, that was too fast, I just … I need to hold you.”
Deyvid, to his credit, just nodded and hugged Petur tight around the waist. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “Whatever it is, we’ll be all right.”
No we won’t. Because Tania was going to find some way to ruin everything as soon as she found the right candidate. It might not happen soon, perhaps not even this year, but …
Now it was Petur’s turn to shiver. “Take me to bed.”
He wasn’t flighty enough to try and get Deyvid to carry him—Petur had forty pounds on the other man—but he didn’t let go of him either, not even so that Deyvid could get dressed.
Not that it mattered when they were just across the hall from Deyvid’s sparse little room, but it was a level of neediness he rarely let himself express.
Even rarer was getting to their bed, lying down on his back, and pulling Deyvid in between his legs. “Will you?”
Deyvid’s eyebrows rose. “You want me like this?” Inside of you?
They rarely had sex that way, Petur vastly preferring to be the one on top, and Deyvid happy to accommodate him, but whenever they did, it was because Petur needed it like he needed air.
He needed the reassurance, the closeness, the feeling of possession that only came from taking Deyvid into his body.
“Yes.”
That was all Deyvid needed. He leaned over Petur and kissed him, lips cool but slowly warming against Petur’s as he began to gently rock against him.
Not penetrating, just touching, skin on skin and rising heat that melded their scents together.
It was comforting, soothing, and just what Petur needed.
They kissed until he was fully relaxed, settled in a way he almost never was and as hard as a hammer, waiting for Deyvid to get inside of him.
Deyvid never stopped kissing him, not even when he slicked his fingers and began to slowly, methodically open Petur up.
He kissed down the line of Petur’s neck, nipping sharply at the tendons there and making Petur whine with pleasure.
He kissed his chest, suckled for a moment at his nipple before doing the same on the other side, then dipped down and kissed the tip of Petur’s cock as he curled his fingers and brushed Petur’s prostate.
Petur made a sound that would have embarrassed him any other time. Right now, though … “In me,” he mumbled, almost incoherent with need. “Deyvid …”
“Mmm, you’re ready,” Deyvid agreed. He removed his fingers and slicked himself, lips pressed against Petur’s sweat-slicked skin the whole time, then sat up and pushed Petur’s thighs farther apart as he slowly, steadily pressed into Petur’s body.
It stung, but Petur didn’t care. As soon as Deyvid was fully inside him, he wrapped his arms around him, holding him so close he couldn’t even thrust, just grind deep in a slow, pulsing rhythm.
His stomach was tight against Petur’s cock, giving him just enough friction to make him wet, and their mouths might as well have been fused together for all the distance between their lips.
So close, so intimate … Petur couldn’t imagine having this with anyone else.
He would fight Tania on this, fight her hard because this tenderness, this vulnerability, it was just for Deyvid.
He was the only one Petur could trust, the only one who wouldn’t hurt him; he couldn’t do this with anyone else.
“Sweetheart,” Deyvid murmured as his breathing began to get thready. “Are you close? Please, talk to me.”
Petur could have come ten minutes before. “Yes,” he said, “yes, now, Deyvid, now, now …”
Deyvid ground up again and again, and on the third deep press, he began to come, loosing himself inside of Petur and triggering Petur’s own orgasm.
It started as slow as a tidal wave and was just as inexorable, dragging him out of his conscious control and into a place where he almost never went—a place that was nothing but calmness, sweetness, absolute assurance of safety and care.
Petur lay there in quiet bliss as Deyvid pulled away long enough to clean them both up, then dragged a blanket over them as he settled in by Petur’s side.
Because he knew Petur—knew him like no one else did—he tugged Petur into his arms so his head rested on Deyvid’s chest instead of the other way around.
It was so comforting, so perfect that Petur almost wanted to cry.
As the bliss slipped away, Petur realized that he owed Deyvid an explanation. His lover would never demand it, but he had to be curious. “Tania wants me to marry,” he said at last.
“Ah.” Deyvid’s voice was neutral; he knew the responsibilities of a prince as well as Petur did.
“She wished to discuss a potential candidate.”
“Not suitable, I take it?”
“Not at all. I think I managed to convince her of that, but …” Petur sighed. “I’m afraid it’s only a matter of time.”
Deyvid nodded slowly. “We knew it would happen someday.”
Petur bit back a curse. “I loathe that you’re so sanguine about this.”
“I don’t mean to hurt you.”
I know you don’t. “I hate it,” he whispered. “I don’t want anyone else.”
“I know,” Deyvid said, then kissed the top of Petur’s head. “No matter what happens, you’ll always have me. All right? Nothing and no one will ever keep you from me. You’re the best thing in my life, and I will never give you up. Do you understand?”
It was terribly comforting to have confirmation that Deyvid was just as committed to Petur as Petur was to him. Not that he hadn’t known, but … “I understand.” He looked up at Deyvid. “I love you.”
“I love you as well. Always.”