Chapter Twenty #2
“How was that?” Pel was biting his lip and looking at Tor a bit anxiously.
“It was wonderful,” Tor assured him, speaking nothing but the truth, voice still a little languid post-orgasm.
A dawning smile lit Pel’s face, bright and contagious. And Tor was completely, hopelessly, totally besotted.
He’d just rutted against someone and got off like he hadn’t since he was a teen, probably—and it was still one of the best experiences he’d ever had.
Tor had never believed anyone who told him it was different when emotions were involved. Turned out they’d been right after all.
And then Tor wiggled. “Lesson number one: cold semen is gross, and when it dries, it’s even worse.”
Pel laughed. “Oh, yes, that’s true. Sorry.”
They cleaned him up, and Pel seemed to be as fascinated by his flaccid cock as he had been with his erect one.
“I’ve never seen another man’s cock,” Pel answered when he noticed Tor’s gaze. His cheeks went pink. “I mean, probably a glimpse here or there, but this is, uh, different. Being in bed with it. You.” The pink got brighter. “Oh, that sounded so foolish. Sorry.”
Tor was grinning. “You have my permission to stare at me as much as you want. All parts of me. Honestly, it’s my preferred experience.”
Pel scoffed, but he was smiling, and then he kissed Tor, which was the best. Tor wanted Pel to feel confident to take whatever he wanted from him.
Also, he hadn’t experienced a lot of kisses that weren’t just a prelude to fucking. This was really nice.
He’d told the other man that there was a lot for them to discover. He’d meant it, but he’d thought he was exaggerating a little so that Pel would feel more at ease. Instead, Tor was beginning to understand how true it was. There was so much for them to figure out together.
But maybe not right now. Because that was definitely morning light starting to creep in the window.
Regretfully, Tor said, “If you’re here much longer, we’re likely to be interrupted.”
Pel made a face, but Tor couldn’t interpret what it meant.
“You’re absolutely welcome to stay if you’re prepared for the gossip,” Tor clarified, worrying suddenly that it had sounded as though he was kicking the man out. “I know this is your home, so I don’t want to do anything that’s going to make life difficult for you, that’s all.”
Pel blew out a breath, though Tor still couldn’t interpret his expression. “Maybe it’s a little early for everyone to know that I’m in your bed. Especially since nothing even happened last night.”
Tor caught him by the chin and pulled him into another, filthier kiss.
“Lots happened last night,” he corrected Pel sternly when he finally pulled back. “We had an amazing time last night. Unless you’re telling me you didn’t enjoy yourself?”
Pel’s eyes were soft and hot. “You know I did. Yesterday and this morning. But I think I’m not quite ready for rumors to run rampant. Is that how you deal with it? Have people leave before the night is over?”
“Sometimes,” Tor agreed. “We don’t always end up in my bed at all. Sometimes, it’s a short encounter. We don’t sleep together. And sometimes I don’t care if anyone knows. I don’t know if you noticed, but I don’t have a lot of shame about this sort of thing.”
Pel snorted. “Yeah, I noticed.” His gaze shifted away. “Did you want to say something?”
Well, Tor had got that wrong. He leaned in to press a softer kiss to Pel’s lips this time.
“I want very much to leave this decision up to you. Because this is your home. The repercussions are different for you than they are for me, and I’m pretty sure we’ve been in a relationship for less than one night.
Can we count from yesterday? I’m counting from our first proper kiss. Is that acceptable?”
Pel looked bemused. “Yes, that’s acceptable. I, uh, don’t have the slightest idea how to be in a romantic relationship, but I’d like to try with you.”
“Me too,” Tor told him. “And if you think about it, that means you’re getting to this seven years sooner than I am. Which I think makes me the late-bloomer.”
Pel laughed, but he also looked a little pleased. Tor didn’t want him feeling self-conscious about his lack of experience.
Tor wanted everything to happen right now.
He wanted to shout that they were together from the rooftops, and he wanted to Tendril, and he was pretty sure he wanted to bond…
but most of the time they’d been properly together so far, they’d been sleeping.
Pel had never been with anyone before, and Tor had never been in a relationship.
He was definitely rushing his fences.
Which meant it made way more sense to take a bit of time, to keep it between the two of them while they got a little more used to it… which meant watching with reluctant acceptance as Pel finally rolled out of bed and pulled on his clothes from the night before.
Pel looked down at himself and then up at Tor and said ruefully, “I suppose wearing clothes from the night before is totally normal?”
Tor couldn’t help but laugh. “It would definitely not be the first time that I’ve done that. But if it will make you feel more comfortable, I would be perfectly happy to keep a change of clothes for you here.”
“Or you could have clothes in my room,” Pel challenged.
“Or yours. Or both, so we have lots of options,” Tor agreed easily.
Pel made a face. “My rooms aren’t that far from Bavil’s and Larexa’s. We’re definitely coming here.”
Tor didn’t think Bavil or Larexa would be either surprised or censorious, but this was about Pel’s comfort. Also, the notion of running into King Forex was genuinely cringe-worthy, especially if there was a chance Forex would assume Tor had been coming from one of Pel’s siblings’ rooms.
No. Just no.
Tor slipped out of bed, still in his nightshirt—and still with half a mind to haul the other man back into bed—but cognizant of time slipping away and the very real chance that servants would be in soon with fresh water and tea.
They always checked the fire, too, and relaid it if Tor had used it.
The damp held in a chill in the early mornings, though the days were usually pleasantly warm now.
Tor gave Pel a gentle kiss on the lips and then stared into those soft brown eyes, wondering how he’d ever thought them boring.
“Thank you for coming after me,” he said quietly. “Last night and this morning were the best, and I’m so sorry yesterday was terrible.”
But Pel just shook his head. “I’m going to remember yesterday as one of the best days of my life, even if there were moments that weren’t perfect. You have nothing to apologize for.”
Tor thought that was Pel being overly generous, but he appreciated the sentiment.
“You’d better get going,” Tor chided. “Or I’m going to drag you back into bed again.”
Pel looked particularly tempted for a moment, and then he sucked in a breath, smiled at Tor, and headed for the door.
Tor watched him go and tried to figure out when he’d stopped seeing a perfectly ordinary, perfectly unnoticeable person.
He couldn’t pinpoint an exact moment; all he could be certain of was that his perception had been completely altered.
He must still be plain, but when Tor looked now, all he could see was Pel, and Pel was very dear to him.
It was a weird phenomenon. Did it always happen, Tor wondered, and he’d been missing out all this time because he usually took beautiful people to bed for a night or two?
Were people transforming all around Tor, and he’d never looked?
Or did Pel transform because Tor looked, and other people were transforming when people who cared about them looked at them?
Or maybe it wasn’t Pel who’d transformed at all, but Tor?
He’d come here to pretend to court Pel, and if he’d succeeded in charming him to begin with, he would probably have slept with him, let the rumors spread, and gone back in all triumph to his brother—and missed out on the most amazing thing that had ever happened to him.
He couldn’t forget that he’d actually met Pel before this and completely forgotten him. How did you not notice the person you were meant to be with? Only if someone had told Tor that he’d be courting Pelun of Tond in earnest a year ago or even six months ago, Tor would have laughed in their face.
Instead, the feelings had sneaked up on him—perhaps the only way this could ever have happened.
But he was so glad it had.
A servant came in with hot water, and Tor greeted her just as he usually would, and then cleaned himself up, shaved, and dressed.
He was already anxious to see Pel again, which was ridiculous. Tor was sure he hadn’t acted like this even when he was a callow teen. It was embarrassing… and he just kept feeling it anyway.
He headed to the kitchens and reminded himself that he and Pel would see one another soon. He greeted the kitchen staff and refreshed the crystal lights to the usual murmur of thanks as they presented him with breakfast.
Ever since he’d started with the lights, they didn’t seem to mind if he tucked himself away in a corner and ate his breakfast. He was still the High Prince, of course, but maybe Pel was rubbing off on him a bit—ha!
—and he was also just a person who could eat without it needing to be a big spectacle.
There was sweetened porridge with nuts, a roll with butter and cheese, two fried eggs, a winter apple—wrinkled but sound—and fella-root to drink. Tor began to eat with gusto. He hadn’t been able to stomach the idea of food after the competition, and lunch yesterday had been a long time ago.
He’d intended to ask Larexa if she’d take over with the crystals, since he knew better than to ask King Forex.
The man lit plenty of crystal lights that were useful to him, but it was equally clear that he wasn’t concerned about the comfort of his staff.
Tor suspected that Larexa just hadn’t thought about it.