Chapter Twenty-Three #2
That brought him back. Snorting, Kai punched him lightly in the arm.
“I’m trying to be sincere, you twat. I’m trying to say that…
I’ve never been so afraid as I have been this week.
Of everything – of Menon, of myself, of what I’m supposed to do.
” Bit by bit he inched closer, and when River offered his hand, he grasped it.
“You were always steady,” Kai murmured. “Stable. When I was afraid, you were there. When I was drunk, when I felt like I was drowning, you were there. Even though I’ve been a bastard, even though I’ve hurt people and I might’ve hurt you, too, you were there.”
“Except – briefly,” River broke in. “That day, in my room – I’m sorry for how I spoke to you.” He glanced away, heating, although the flicker of surprise in Kai’s expression told him that he’d forgiven him long ago. “I should’ve apologised before this.”
“We’ve been busy,” Kai granted him.
“We have been,” River shot back, cross.
“Even though I was so hurt.” Kai mimed wiping a tear from his eyes, forlorn. “And I wrote such a sad poem about it in my diary.”
“Fuck you, Kai, I’m trying to be sincere.”
“Well, don’t stop on my account. I like it.
All of it, I – ” He lowered his face, bashful, his gaze locked on River’s hand clasped in his.
“I thought, once or twice, that I wouldn’t have the chance to talk to you.
Be sincere.” A tinge of humour. “Graciously accept your apology.” His throat bobbed, making his smile waver.
“But when I saw you were safe on Oseidos, in Soliz, I… I don’t have words for how I felt, when I saw you were safe. When I saw that I still had you.”
Reverently, he lifted River’s hand to his lips. A shiver of electricity coursed through River’s veins at the softness of his touch, as gentle as candlelight. Any doubt, any worry River had ever had about him vanished at the way Kai looked at him, at the scorching intensity of his focus.
No hint of divine silver, of Menon lurking just beneath the surface.
Just Kai, looking at him exactly as he did that golden afternoon on Oseidos. Like River was all he saw, was who he’d wanted from the very beginning.
River smiled, feeling stupid – so stupid for shoving Kai away that day.
“I would be lucky to keep you as my seleneschal,” Kai whispered. “But if you would have me as anything more, I want you to know, River…” He pressed River’s hand over his heart. “I’m yours.”
Something in those words sent a wave of heat through him, made him deeply, painfully aware of his pulse, thrumming all the way to the tips of his fingers.
River reached for him, shyly at first, brushing a wayward lock of hair from Kai’s forehead before tracing the line of his jaw, the upturned corner of his mouth.
“Now.” Kai’s arms circled River’s waist, pulled him flush against him. A hint of his usual sarcasm sparked in his eyes. “How’s that for wanting you when I’m sober?”
River huffed out a laugh, their lips so, so close. “It was acceptable.”
“What, d’you want me to get on my knees?” He smirked, revealing pointed eyeteeth. “I seem to recall offering last week, but you soundly rejected me.”
“I stand by my decision, but I’m so glad to hear your memory’s survived all the alcohol.”
“So am I.” He nudged River’s head to the side, moving so that his lips grazed the sensitive skin just below River’s ear. “Because I want to remember everything you do to me.”
That was it. All semblance of self-control shattered as River reared back and hauled him into a crushing kiss.
Fuck it, fuck everything. Menon’s manifestation had changed their lives inexorably, might set into motion the bloodshed that Ione had so badly wanted to avoid.
But right now, they were alive, and together, and River did not want to spend another minute away from the man he had admired and despised and needed for so long now.
Kai gripped fistfuls of River’s shirt in both hands, his lips parting with a hungry, breathless noise as River’s tongue swept into his mouth.
It was all-consuming, incandescent, the way their hearts crowded close within their ribcages, the way they both clung to one another like they each had the last lungful of air at the bottom of a deep pool.
If River was strength and stability, then Kai was reassurance, a lifeline, a safehouse during a storm.
Someone River could trust.
It occurred to him that Kai was probably meant to meet with Saros, but River didn’t ask and Kai didn’t stop him as he slid the shirt off Kai’s shoulders and dragged him towards the bed, their usual routine in reverse.
They broke away long enough for River to haul his own shirt over his head, a button snapping off and pattering against the floorboards.
“I need you,” Kai whispered, cupping River’s face and tugging him down onto the bed with him.
He kissed him again, slower, longing, his eyelashes fluttering against River’s.
He arched as River ran a hand down his chest, his stomach, hooked his fingertips around the buttons of his trousers and unfastened them.
Kai traced the shape of him through his trousers; squeezed, lightly, smiling when River suppressed a groan. “Please, Riv.” He took them both into one hand and worked in long, lazy strokes. “I need you.”
After a moment River understood what he meant.
River pinned Kai’s wrists to the bed and closed his mouth over his, earning from Kai a small, hitched breath that set his blood aflame.
“We can’t,” he said in between kisses, his hips rocking against Kai’s.
“I don’t have any oil or anything, it’d hurt. ”
“That’s fine.” Kai hooked a leg around River’s thigh, pulling him closer. “I’ll heal it.”
That was probably true, but the thought of hurting him after all of this twisted River’s stomach. He pushed Kai back down, kissing his lips, his jaw, his throat. “I won’t hurt you,” he said into the crook of Kai’s neck. “I want to make you feel good.”
Kai didn’t protest to feeling good when River pressed his mouth to his stomach, his hips, lower. He broke free of River’s grasp around his wrists and twined his fingers with River’s, his other hand resting on River’s cheek, fingers in his hair, thumb tracing his browbone. Worshipful, pure. Real.
“You’re beautiful,” Kai murmured – and Kai too was beautiful, limned with gauzy autumn light, his hair mussed and face tranquil for the first time in too long.
This could be their only chance, River thought as Kai tensed and called his name, as he tasted salt and sweat and pleasure.
After this, Kai would be Menon again. Warden, weapon, god.
But right now, he was just Kai, and the way he looked when he nudged River off, onto his back, face flushed and eyes bleary with want as he lowered, made some long-present twist of fear within him slowly begin to uncoil.
Getting out of bed felt insurmountable. Walking the wide, open-air passage to Saros’s meeting room to discuss what exactly the Archpriest had in mind for his goddess, now that Sowelan was in play, was worse.
Kai held himself well as they strode through the busy halls, decked out in south seas regalia – a gift from Malia’s tailor – and wearing a bored, lofty expression as aristocrats and shopkeepers alike bowed to him.
He certainly looked the part, they both did, Kai in a midnight blue cloak decorated with mist and ancient fish, and River in a dignified indigo dress uniform trimmed with silver waves.
The perfect Menon-and-Seleneschal unit, formidable deity and steadfast guardian.
On Kai’s lapel, a crescent moon brooch crowned with a single garnet glimmered in the afternoon light, half of a pair.
He had pinned the other half, embellished with a sapphire, onto River’s collar.
Kai shifted self-consciously as Nalu and a handful of his men passed them, each hefting a box of canned goods down to the kitchens – and as Kai moved, a faint mark showed on his neck.
Mine, it said. It was an effort for River to tear his gaze from it. “Pull up your collar.”
The illusion cracked as Kai bit back a smile and adjusted his clothes. “Godsdamn you,” he muttered wryly. “I hate buttoning my shirt all the way. It’s hot.”
“Suffer the clothes for now and I will personally remove them from you later.”
A hint of red tinged his cheeks as Kai nodded at a pair of guards flanking the double doors to Saros’s meeting room, the cool mask slipping back into place. “Eyes forward, Seleneschal Fontaine,” he commanded mildly, although he winked at River as the guards bowed and pulled open the doors.
They were, given their last-minute tryst, late.
The chairs at the long table were already occupied by an assortment of high-ranking folk Kai barely spared a glance at, all rising and greeting him with a blessing.
At the head of the table opposite the last empty chair, Saros watched, drumming his fingers against the mahogany as Kai ambled to his seat.
“Arright,” Kai began, sitting; River stood at his right and scanned the rest of the table: high priests and priestesses from shrines all over, investors from Polaros, guard captains from Sterlingdale, naval officers, including Kai’s mother, from Coralpool.
And finally Saros, his smile a jarring contrast to the icy focus he levelled at Kai.
Kai smiled right back. “What’ve I missed?”
A muscle in Saros’s cheek feathered. “I was just bringing the rest of our company up to speed about your little field trip to Soliz.”
“A huge success, if I say so myself,” Kai said. “Or it would’ve been if I hadn’t gotten punched in the head.”
“The situation called for it,” River said.
“Aye, and I appreciate it,” Kai retorted facetiously. “I still maintain that my being there indirectly helped Ione escape. Distractions and all.” He rested his elbows on the table and caught Penina’s eye. “Ineen’s well?”