Chapter Three
Brandon woke to a comforting presence in his bed.
Fatigue fogged his mind, and for a moment, he didn’t understand what had happened or who he was with.
He blinked his eyes open, finding warm morning light falling through the cracks in the shutters.
It was later than when he usually got up, much later.
He turned his head, and everything came rushing back to him—Pax showing up in his hut, offering himself, sprouting wings at the height of ecstasy. He’d promised to stay, and he had. Brandon smiled at Pax wrapped in his arms, fast asleep.
He’d stayed. He wasn’t going to leave.
Happiness, like he hadn’t felt in a long time, ran through Brandon. He wasn’t alone. Pax was with him. Brandon had never received a better winter solstice gift, and he cherished it with all his heart.
He pressed a kiss to Pax’s brow and slipped out of bed to restart the fire.
Once the flames were going and the shutters open, Brandon cooked breakfast. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d done that, normally sustaining himself on a dry piece of bread and a glass of water in the mornings.
Not today. Pax had done so much for him, and Brandon desperately wanted to make him just as happy.
As he mixed flour, milk and eggs, he kept glancing at Pax, who peacefully slumbered, his mouth drawn into a cute pout. Brandon whisked up a batter, then searched his food storage for side dishes.
When the scent of freshly cooked food filled the hut, rustling from the sleeping corner alerted him to Pax’s waking up—just in time for breakfast.
Brandon smiled as Pax sleepily peeled out of the sheets, a drawn-out stretch revealing the full glory of his naked body.
“Good morning,” Brandon said.
His eyes half closed, a languid smile on his lips, Pax sauntered over and placed a kiss on Brandon’s cheek. “Good morning. It smells delicious. What are you making?”
“Pancakes with maple syrup and a side of scrambled eggs and bacon. I hope you’ll like it.”
“I know I will.” Pax beamed up at Brandon. “Thank you so much. You’re wonderful.”
Brandon preened, a gentle heat crawling up his neck. Pax should get used to elaborate breakfasts—Brandon was going to visit the market in the afternoon and buy food to cook more delicious meals for him.
He couldn’t help his gaze gliding down Pax’s body. His wings had retreated at some point during the night, but his skin positively glowed, and further down—
Brandon would have to get him something to wear if he didn’t want to be distracted all day—not that it was a hardship. He glanced at the discarded loincloth, Pax following his regard.
Pax blushed. “I should put on clothes.”
“I’ll get you something.” Brandon wiped his hand on his apron and went to his storage cabinet, pulling out garments. Everything was old and frayed or made of scratchy wool. None of it was good enough for Pax and his delicate skin.
“I like this.” Pax picked up a worn shirt from the pile Brandon had discarded.
“No,” Brandon said, horrified. He couldn’t let Pax wear that old thing. “There’s got to be something better…” There wasn’t. He added clothes to his mental list of things to get from the market.
“It’s perfect,” Pax said and held the shirt to his nose. “It smells of you.”
The shirt was several sizes too big on Pax, exposing one shoulder and reaching down to his mid-thigh, but Brandon had to admit Pax looked cute in it. He found him a pair of trousers and a belt to hold them up; the legs rolled up easily enough.
Were it not for his pointy ears and supernatural beauty, one could almost mistake Pax for a young man from Winterbourne. Almost.
They ate breakfast, Pax digging in with just as much appetite as Brandon.
They were hungry, having worn themselves out the night before, and more strenuous activity was sure to come.
As they ate, Brandon told Pax about his family, about the worry he had for his children and the life he’d had with his late wife.
Pax listened, nodding, his hand on Brandon’s arm when he got to the painful points. When Brandon asked, he shared stories of his life in the faerie realm and his experiences in the human world.
Pax helped Brandon clean up when they were finished, throwing glances at the stacks of leftovers. Brandon had gone overboard with the cooking and prepared more food than two people could eat in a day.
“Maybe we could share the leftovers with your neighbors?” Pax suggested as they put the dishes away.
It was a good idea. There was enough to feed an army.
Brandon nodded, and they fixed a couple of plates, pancakes piling high—how had Brandon thought they could eat all this?
He must’ve still been out of it. He smiled to himself—oh yes, he had been.
And how could he not after a night of endless orgasms and whispered promises of more?
Wrapping themselves in cloaks, they left the house and knocked at the hut across the way, the winter morning chill crisp in the air.
It was Thelda who opened the old wooden door, a finger to her lips. “The children are still sleeping,” she said quietly.
Brandon nodded. “I made pancakes this morning—would you like some?”
“Yes! That’s so lovely of you.” As she took the plates and thanked him, her regard landed on Pax. “Oh, you must be Brandon’s friend.”
Brandon had almost forgotten about the lie he’d told Thelda when he hadn’t wanted her to know he was spending the winter solstice alone. Hot-eared, he introduced Pax. “He will be staying with me.”
Realization of who Pax had to be to Brandon bloomed on her face. “Right! Well, why don’t the two of you come for dinner tonight? That way I can return the favor,” she indicated the plates in her hands, “and we can get to know you, Pax?”
“Mommy!” a small voice called from inside the hut.
“So much for sleeping children,” Thelda chuckled. “Well, I have to go, but you two are coming tonight, right?”
“We will,” Brandon said, genuinely happy for the invitation. He’d always liked his neighbors; he just hadn’t wanted their pity. With Pax by his side, gorgeous and kind, there’d be none of that. Brandon could be himself. A new sense of belonging swelled in him.
They said goodbye to Thelda for the moment, and as they walked back to their hut, Brandon took Pax’s hand, interlinking their fingers. This was only the first of many happy winter solstices.
THE END
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