Chapter Eighteen #3
Tor looked at him with confusion, and then his face blanched, and he leaned back, away from Pel. “And I swore I wouldn’t ever do that again. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable!”
Pel blinked at him, confused. Slowly, he said, “I’m pretty sure I’m the one who kissed you.”
Tor stared at him, a furrow forming in his brow before he agreed, “Right. You did.” He hesitated for a beat. “Why?”
There was no way Pel was answering that question, so he countered with, “Why did you kiss me back?”
Tor looked confused again. “Because I wanted to?”
“But you’re not drunk,” Pel felt compelled to point out again.
The expression of confusion only deepened. “I know?”
Stomach clenching, Pel finally muttered, “You said you only kissed me because you were drunk.”
Tor stared at him blankly—and then his face twisted into one of complete horror.
“I didn’t want to kiss you only because I was drunk!” He sounded mortified. “Because I was drunk, I did what I wanted without checking if it was all right with you. By the goddess, is that why you threw that alcohol at me?”
Stunned, Pel said, “Wait. You do want to kiss me?”
Tor still looked horrified. “You thought I was kissing you only because I was drunk?”
Pel cleared his throat. His voice still sounded a little rough when he spoke. “That’s what you said.”
Tor jumped up from his seat, startling Pel, and paced around the room, whipping back and forth a few times.
“Why are you even talking to me? Why didn’t you throw me out on my ass?”
Tor’s weird anger on Pel’s behalf made him want to either laugh or cry, he wasn’t quite sure which. But it also made something unclench inside him, something that had been tightly wound since Tor had made clear—Pel thought—how much he wasn’t interested.
Pel rose to his feet so that Tor wasn’t towering over him.
He shrugged. “There was a minute where I thought you were interested, but I’m used to people not wanting me. So it wasn’t really a surprise. I just, uh, had to accept that.” Oh, goddess, that sounded terribly awkward. Hurriedly, he added, “I like being friends. Being friends is great.”
Which was why he kept kissing Tor.
Tor’s gaze was intent all of a sudden, pinning Pel in place. “That’s what all of that was, in the days afterwards? Not because you were horrified that I’d kissed you but because you thought that I’d only done it because I was too drunk to be discerning?”
Pel nodded stiffly.
Suddenly, Tor was standing right in front of him.
“So I’ve been very carefully keeping my hands off of you for no reason at all?”
His voice was low, his eyes were bright, and it suddenly felt as though a lot of the air had gone right out of the room.
Pel swallowed thickly and watched Tor’s eyes follow the movement.
He managed to nod, and then Tor was leaning down, Pel was leaning up, and they were kissing again. And this time, this time, Pel knew that Tor was kissing him because he really wanted to. Because they both wanted to.
Tor tugged him closer so they were plastered together and Pel could feel the growing hardness of Tor’s arousal pressed against his belly.
There were so many sensations. Tor’s mouth was warm and firm, and his tongue in Pel’s mouth didn’t bring the sour tang of alcohol with it.
Pel might have whimpered, and one of Tor’s hands migrated down to his ass, pressing them closer still.
Greatly daring, Pel reached up to delve his hands into Tor’s hair, feeling the softness of the dark strands. Tor made a low sound deep in his throat and leaned into Pel’s touch.
And then Tor tugged them backwards, and they were suddenly tumbling into a chair, Pel somehow seated in Tor’s lap. They were still kissing, couldn’t seem to stop kissing, and Tor had a hand up under Pel’s tunic.
Pel felt each fingertip like a burning brand against his skin.
It was impossible to both lean into the kissing and shift closer to the man’s hand on his back, but Pel sure tried.
He finally realized that he was dizzy with lack of breath, but when he turned his head, Tor just started kissing the side of his mouth, his chin, his neck.
He could feel the man smirk as he nipped at Pel’s skin, and Pel swallowed convulsively. He’d never wanted like this, not since he’d realized what it meant to be Unremarkable, to be dismissed over and over again.
But somehow, it seemed like Tor saw him and wanted him. Pel didn’t think you could fake this kind of frantic need.
It was a lot of stimulation, though, and Pel blamed that for the fact that he didn’t notice where Tor’s other hand was going. When it brushed over his cock, Pel startled badly.
This resulted in Tor removing his hand and pulling back so he could actually look at Pel.
“Sorry,” Pel muttered, feeling his cheeks heat.
Tor was looking at him intently, his eyes narrowing slightly, and then he said carefully, “Pel, have you ever done this before?”
Pel’s entire face was on fire, and he tried to scramble off of Tor, but Tor’s hands clamped down on his hips.
“Hey, hey, it’s all right,” Tor told him. Pel was still squirming. “Pel, you can move if you want, but please don’t move because you’re embarrassed. I should have handled this better.”
Pel scoffed. “I don’t think it’s you who’s been making this weird.” When he stopped trying to get away, Tor’s hands stayed on his hips, a gentle, grounding warmth.
Tor leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Pel’s lips, and Pel melted into it without conscious thought. Tor nipped at his lips and then pulled back a little, and Pel found himself chasing after the kiss.
“Are you handling me?” Pel asked against the man’s mouth.
Tor’s hands slipped back so they were splayed across Pel’s ass. He squeezed gently.
“I am definitely handling you.”
Pel could actually hear the leer in his voice.
He couldn’t help but laugh, relaxing further into Tor’s touch.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Tor asked gently.
“Absolutely not,” Pel blurted, feeling his face heat again.
“It’s up to you. But you might feel better if you talk about it.” Tor’s expression became rueful. “Realizing this advice comes from someone who ran away from his own brother, of course.”
Pel laughed again, and this time it was he who leaned in, kissing Tor. This kiss was softer than it had been before, less demanding, but still hot and beautiful and everything Pel hadn’t been able to admit he wanted.
He knew Tor had changed his approach so that it would be less alarming to a novice. He wanted to be annoyed, but he was kind of touched instead. And more comfortable than he’d been a few minutes ago, goddess help him.
When the kiss ended this time, Pel sucked in a breath and then blew it out again. If he couldn’t trust Tor with this, what were they doing?
Pel sighed. “Shortly after I turned sixteen, I Manifested as Unremarkable. I was already the unnoticeable middle brother. Bavil was the heir, and he is as handsome now as he was then. Larexa was only nine, but she was pretty and funny and charming. People had already been saying for years that the beauty had clearly skipped a child, and now the magic did, too.”
Tor kissed him again, all soft affection. When he drew back, though, his eyes glittered, and he ground out, “Your father is an ass.”
Something that was a little too much like a giggle slipped out of Pel’s mouth. Tor’s eyes lit up.
Sighing again, Pel admitted, “He’s still my father.”
He knew by now that he was never going to gain the man’s approval. He was also aware Forex didn’t deserve for Pel to be seeking it out. But there was still a small part of him that wanted that approval anyway. He was Pel’s father, the only parent he had left, and Pel wanted to make him proud.
Tor’s face softened, and he pressed a fleeting kiss to Pel’s lips.
“No, I get that. My brother is my brother, and I love him—but sometimes I still want to punch him in the face.”
Pel laughed again. “Yes, exactly that.”
Maybe talking really was better, if it was with someone you trusted.
“It wasn’t just my father. There are a lot of expectations in a royal family. I’m the first person in over 600 years not to be at least Illustrious,” Pel said sourly. “I failed to live up to the standards of the family.”
Tor’s jaw tightened. “Mindful of what you just said, I won’t repeat myself about my feelings towards your father.
Instead, I’ll point out that the vast majority of people are Unremarkable, and they are good, decent people.
Having a lot of magic does not in any way predict good behavior or decency. Just look at the war.”
That was true enough, Pel supposed.
Tor went on, “But you’re right. Society puts a lot of value in it.
So much so that I wouldn’t be at all surprised to learn that your family expunged anyone from the family record that they didn’t want to glorify for posterity.
Which is absolutely their loss. There’s no way that someone who is as devoted to their people, as kind, as generous, and so fucking fantastic at archery as you are could be considered below standard by anyone who isn’t a complete fool. ”
Pel laughed again, feeling curiously light and warm.
It had never occurred to him that there had probably been others like him, perfectly decent people who’d been carefully erased to make it look like the family had always been highly magical.
They’d probably never be able to prove it, but Pel could see someone like his father doing exactly that.
It gave him a feeling of kinship that he’d never felt before.
“Thank you,” he said softly.
Tor kissed him again, warm and sweet, and Pel really liked it—even though he was aware there was probably something Tor would rather be doing.
When he drew back, he said, “Sorry I slowed this down so much.”
“Don’t you dare apologize,” Tor told him, blue eyes flashing. “No part of this is enjoyable unless it’s enjoyable for both of us, and I assure you, this is.”
“I feel like I don’t know anything.”
The confusion and uncertainty were definitely not feelings Pel liked.
“That’s what practice is for,” Tor pointed out with a grin. “In fact, it’s something I would be more than happy to provide.”
Pel couldn’t help but smile at the other man’s eyebrow waggling, but he admitted quietly, “It’s embarrassing.”
“We all had to start somewhere,” Tor said easily.
Huffing, Pel argued, “But most people started years ago.”
“But there isn’t an age requirement. And—would you like me to be perfectly honest?” Tor asked.
Pel braced himself, saying, “Yes,” even as he wondered if he did.
Tor’s gaze was intent on his face. “The notion of being your first is extremely alluring.”
Pel’s eyebrow rose. “Is it? Really?”
Tor nodded, his eyes glittering with something that Pel was pretty sure was hunger. “The idea that no one else has gotten to touch you before? That I’m going to be the first person to make you feel the most incredible pleasure of your life? So alluring.”
Pel could feel his cheeks heating again, but he made himself raise an eyebrow. “Most incredible pleasure, huh? I’ll have you know that I do know what my cock is for, and I’ve had plenty of experience giving myself pleasure.”
“But I’ll be so much better. Of course,” Tor said so pompously that Pel couldn’t help but laugh with delight and lean into the man, resting his head on Tor’s shoulder. Tor’s arms snaked around him, holding him close.