Chapter 16 #2
“Not very exciting. It never is,” Mont said as he swung himself off of his horse.
Ren vaguely listened to their conversation as he made his way over to Falk who grinned at him.
He got down and unbuckled the saddle from his steed.
“Nothing ever happens around here. Even up on the cliffs right now, everything is so quiet.”
“Most people would say that’s a good thing,” Flory hummed.
“Yeah, but it’s boring,” Mont huffed.
“Not every patrol can end with an arrest,” Ren teased the captain as Falk tugged his horse away to put him in his stall. “Was the patrol you were on when you arrested me your most entertaining?”
“One of them,” Mont hummed. “The one where Falk got stabbed was pretty fun too.”
“Fun for you, maybe,” Falk chuckled, keeping his voice quiet like he normally did around others. Ren seemed to be the only one allowed to hear his loud laugh that shook his entire body. “It was sort of awful for me.”
“Got you your first Warrior scar, though,” Mont said, patting Falk on the shoulder.
“Are you going to join us for dinner this evening?” Flory asked, looking over to where Falk had positioned himself beside Ren as he always did, a hand on his lower back as he leaned into him as though about to whisper a secret. “Or are you two going to be antisocial again?”
“We aren’t—-” Ren began to say.
“Yes, I would rather spend my time with Ren than with you all,” Falk deadpanned.
“Ouch,” Mont gasped, grasping his chest. “You wound me, Falk.”
Ren let the corners of his lips curl upward, laughing quietly into his hand at the Alphas’ banter as they all made their way back toward the castle. When Des, Flory and Mont stopped to clean up the picnic, Falk and Ren waved a ‘goodbye’ and headed back to the castle alone.
“Would you like to take a bath?” Falk asked him when they finally stepped into their chambers. Sometimes it seemed like Falk could read his mind—it was always so strange, shocking, when Falk echoed exactly what he had been thinking moments before.
“That sounds great,” he nodded. “I feel a bit gross from sitting out in the sun for so long.”
Falk laughed and turned to head into the bathroom. Ren peered after him curiously but followed a moment later. “I think you’re the one person I know who can sit out in the heat all day and then want to take a hot bath,” Falk teased.
“You offered to run me one!”
Falk turned the knobs on the tub, the crashing sound of the water on porcelain suddenly loud in the bathroom. Falk peaked over his shoulder at him before saying slowly, “I was thinking we could take a bath together. I wanted to take one as well.”
Ren’s brain stopped working for a moment, his thoughts catching like the breath in his lungs. “Oh,” he whispered.
Falk straightened, turning to him quickly. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I thought?—”
“No,” Ren interrupted. “I… I think that would be nice.”
He moved past Falk, needing a task to focus on, and grabbed some of the sweet smelling soap Flory had bought for him the last time they went shopping.
Ren had stared in awe the first time he used it as it filled his bath with sudsy bubbles.
Falk had laughed at him and told him not to use too much if he didn’t want to drown in it.
Ren pulled off a piece of the soap that he had determined to be the perfect amount from his trials. He dipped his hand into the water and swirled it around until the bubbles began to form.
“Are you sure it’s okay?” Falk asked again from behind him.
Ren nodded before deciding to put a little more soap in—maybe if he put in enough, the thick layer of white would be able to cover him entirely; hide him from Falk’s gaze.
When Ren looked at Falk again, he was already undressing and Ren couldn’t help but stare until Falk chuckled at him. “I think it’s a bit unfair you get to stare like that when I do not get to see you at all.”
Ren frowned, pursing his lips. “I won’t watch then,” he said, pointedly turning away.
He heard Falk sigh, a quick rustle of clothing, and then the warmth and solidity of Falk against his back only a moment later.
Ren gasped as Falk’s arms wound around him, holding him close.
“I’m sorry,” Falk murmured. “I don’t mind that you don’t want me to see you naked. I’m sorry for joking about it.”
“It’s fine,” Ren whispered on instinct before he swallowed and remembered Falk actually wanted to know his feelings. “It really is fine. I feel a bit childish for still being so embarrassed about it.”
“No, don’t. You’ve come a very long way. You are allowed to have things you’re still uncomfortable with—it’s okay.”
As Falk stepped into the tub, groaning at the heat from the water, Ren turned away from him and started tugging off his own clothing. He trusted Falk enough to not look—he had never given him a reason to think otherwise.
Ren climbed into the tub as quickly as he could, smiling and holding back a laugh when he saw Falk covering his eyes with his hands. “I’m in now.” Ren assured him, “You can look.”
Falk grinned as he put his hands down. The gaze that settled on Ren made him fidget, but Falk just hummed and waved a hand at him. “You’re so far away over there,” he said. “Come sit with me.”
Ren wasn’t entirely sure what Falk was asking of him, but he got to his knees and shuffled across the small space between them.
He yelped when Falk’s hands found his hips and tugged him where he wanted him. He pulled Ren until his back was against his own chest, tucked into the juncture of his legs. Ren flushed as Falk wound around him so entirely—his arms around him and his legs bracketing him in.
“Is this okay?” Falk asked after a moment, squeezing Ren with his arms. “You’re very tense.”
“Yes,” Ren said. And it was. He didn’t know why he was still so nervous about Falk touching him.
Both of their hands had become familiar with the other, their lips had learned how to move together easily, and Ren had become quite well acquainted with Falk’s naked body.
He always kept his own clothes on even when they pressed together or Falk reached into his undershorts to bring him pleasure, he stayed clothed.
He knew it didn’t make any sense; Falk had seen him undressed plenty of times when he was in prison. But his clothing seemed to act as a barrier—a last ditch attempt at keeping a wall between them.
And now, the final wall was stripped away.
Ren didn’t know what to do, didn’t know what to feel with his skin pressed up against Falk’s. It made tingles spark everywhere their bodies connected. He wanted to relax back against Falk like they normally did when they cuddled, but he couldn’t get himself to.
Falk let out a long breath and pressed his nose to Ren’s scent gland, kissing at the nape of his neck, “I’m sorry, this was a bad idea, I can?—”
“No,” Ren snapped. “I… need to get used to it.”
“It’s not that different,” Falk hummed, voice low, quiet as though he was trying to be careful not to scare Ren away. “I can’t see you—there are too many bubbles,” he chuckled. “I can feel you—which I do a lot.”
Ren blushed furiously. When would these nerves go away?
When would the butterflies stop trying to eat him from the inside out at the mere thought of him and Falk’s intimate life?
Because Falk was right—his hands petting over Ren’s stomach absentmindedly were so normal at this point that Ren barely noticed them.
He shivered and said, “Yeah, I know you’re right. It’s still… different.”
Falk didn’t speak again, and left Ren to his own internal debates for a while, occasionally kissing him on the back of his neck or squeezing him. His fingertips fluttered over his lower stomach the most, caressing the white scar there that he had never seen, yet seemed drawn to.
And eventually, Ren finally relaxed. He shut his eyes as he tucked himself into Falk’s chest, bringing his knees up a bit so he could sink lower in the water.
Falk lifted a hand to card it through his hair, humming softly as he did so.
Ren might have gotten too comfortable, finding himself near sleep at the rhythmic brushing of his hair and the warmth from the bath seeping into his bones.
“Alright, let me actually wash you,” Falk whispered an indeterminate time later.
Ren whined in complaint but let Falk sit him up to scrub his skin of all the dirt and sweat that always accumulated there. But Falk’s fingers felt good pressing into his skin and scrubbing at his hair, so he kept his grumbling to a minimum.
Once Ren was out of the bath and wrapped safely in a towel, he padded out into their main room and immediately got into bed.
“Don’t get the sheets all wet,” Falk chastised him as he tossed his towel into their hamper.
Ren scowled back and pointedly rolled onto Falk’s side of the bed.
Falk laughed. “Go put on pajamas so we can get into bed for the night.” Ren hesitated, already feeling his heart rate speed up. He shook his head as he gazed up at Falk. “Why not?” Falk asked, eyes scanning over him. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Ren said immediately.
“I can smell you’re nervous,” Falk said, walking over to sit on the edge of the bed—close, but not touching Ren. “What’s up?”
“I think I want to have sex with you,” Ren said, the words tumbling out of him all at once, chasing each other until they sounded like one, long word he wasn’t even sure if Falk would be able to understand.
Falk blinked at him. “I mean,” he said slowly. “I would hope you would but… that’s good to know?” His voice tilted up at the end in question.
Ren sat up with a groan. “No,” he murmured. “I mean like… now.”
“You didn’t before?” Falk questioned, a little ‘v’ appearing between his eyebrows.
Ren sighed and scooted until he could get up onto his knees and put his hands on Falk’s shoulders, staring into his face from a few inches away. “I want to have sex with you right now, like this very minute—I want to do… that with you. Tonight.”