Chapter Twelve
Tor
Tor was no fool, so he didn’t argue with Pel’s plan.
Instead, he lay back and did his best to let Pel do all the work.
They stripped, since the air was warm and there was probably no reason to worry about their safety.
Really, it had been a long time since they’d been completely naked for one another.
Pel insisted on a lantern instead of Tor lighting their way, even though Tor was sure he could manage a small ball of magic for light.
“The healer said to rest,” Pel repeated sternly.
“It’s almost no effort,” Tor grumbled.
Honestly, before his magical coma, he wouldn’t have thought about it at all.
Pel eyed him, and then his lips quirked up. “How about this: you pick how you would like to minimally exert yourself. You can give us one light, or you can enjoy what I have planned for you tonight.”
There was no contest, of course—and Tor suspected that even if he’d picked the light, Pel would have convinced him not to do it. But lanterns worked just fine, and naked Pel was one of Tor’s most favorite things.
“So pretty,” he breathed out.
Pel let out something like a laugh. “I was just thinking the same thing.”
Pel stroked Tor’s pecs, down his torso, and to his abdomen, which Tor flexed, because Pel always liked that. Indeed, his pupils went wide with lust, and his breath caught, but then he admonished, “No exerting yourself.”
Tor pouted. “I still have to use my muscles, or I’ll fall over.”
Pel gently swatted at him. “But that was showing off, and you know it. Now can you stay still, or can’t you?” He grinned, sharp and wicked. “I can make it worth your while.”
“Oh, can you?” Tor could feel his blood heating in anticipation.
Pel began a leisurely exploration of his body, using mouth and fingers like he was learning Tor by touch alone. He pressed kisses to his eyelids and cheeks and jaw, then bit gently at his throat, causing Tor to make an embarrassingly needy sound.
Pel spent a long time on Tor’s torso, leaving Tor panting and squirming. Whenever he tried to move or use his hands or anything, Pel stopped. Tor would have to lie back once more and desperately try not to move at all.
“Patience is a virtue,” Pel sang out as he moved lower still and then skipped Tor’s cock, because of course he did, skimming down his legs instead.
Tor had taught him well.
Tor’s chest was heaving like he’d run a race by the time Pel made it back up to his groin. Tor hadn’t realized that many places on his body were so sensitive. His cock was achingly hard and leaking, and he let out a desperate moan when Pel finally sucked him down.
The heat and suction were perfect, and Tor twisted his hands in the blankets making up their little pallet and tried desperately not to come.
But when Pel pulled off, Tor whined.
“You want me to finish you with my mouth?” Pel asked, eyes dancing, lips slick and pink. “Or do you want me to ride you?”
Tor’s cock leaped. “Ride me.”
Pel grinned at him. “That’s what I thought you’d say.”
Tor twined his hands deeper into the blankets, so eager to reach out but knowing Pel would stop if he did.
Pel prepped himself, which was incredibly alluring in its own right, but Tor ached to be the one doing it.
Still, he loved Pel’s confidence in an act that had seemed awkward to him not so long ago.
Pel stretched himself wide so he could slide down Tor’s cock.
They both groaned, and Tor’s hips give an abortive thrust, making Pel settle more firmly on top of him.
“No exertion,” Pel admonished him.
Tor just groaned again. Was it possible you lost all your stamina when you were in a magical coma? It definitely felt like that—but maybe that was just how amazing Pel was and how long it had been since they’d last had sex.
Being surrounded by Pel’s tight heat was perfection, only Tor wanted to move, wanted to surge up into Pel and make sure they felt this for days—but Pel stopped moving when Tor grabbed Pel’s thighs.
Whining in protest, Tor barely managed to unclench his greedily clasping hands and instead clench them once again in the blanket. He was pretty sure he was shaking. “You’re evil.”
“You love it,” Pel told him confidently.
All Tor could do was smile helplessly at the man because he really, really did, even when Pel was being a total tease. He’d set up an obnoxiously slow rhythm, rising up and then sinking down just fast enough to make Tor crave more.
Pel had to stop three more times when Tor forgot all his good intentions. Pel wouldn’t even let him grab Pel’s cock, which was bobbing between them and could clearly do with some more stimulation.
“Nuh uh,” Pel sing-songed. “You’re resting.”
Tor gritted his teeth and glared at the other man, even as he was filled with so much love and so much lust it felt like his heart was going to burst. He was never going to wind up in a magical coma ever again. And as soon as he was feeling better, he was going to fuck Pel into the floor!
Pel spent a lot of time grinning at him, but he finally seemed to decide that Tor had suffered enough.
He drove himself down with increasing speed, the hitches in his breathing telling Tor that he was hitting his sweet spot as he did so.
Tor gazed avidly at the way Pel’s eyelids fluttered and pleasure washed over his face.
It was almost better than the pleasure that was coiling through Tor, making his gut clench and his balls draw up.
Tor wanted this to go on forever, and he wasn’t sure he could take another second of it.
“Come for me,” Pel demanded, clenching around Tor.
Tor was helpless to do anything but obey, his orgasm ripping through him as he bit back a cry. Pel was coming a moment later, his cock spurting between them and painting Tor’s belly and chest with his come. Tor made a very satisfied noise.
Pel had planned everything, apparently, because in addition to the oil they’d used, he’d brought a cloth for cleanup.
Reluctantly, they pulled their clothes back on. Though it was likely safe, neither of them wanted to be woken for an emergency and still have their cocks hanging out.
They curled up together after Tor exasperatedly confirmed that Pel pillowing his head on Tor’s shoulder wasn’t going to injure him.
Seriously. But he couldn’t help but smile, because it was so obvious in everything he did how much Pel cared.
Tor had never had that in a romantic partner before.
He hadn’t realized what he’d been missing.
(Pel was obviously the answer. He’d been missing Pel.)
Sleepy languor stole over him like it had just been waiting for him to have an orgasm, and he fell asleep before he could tell Pel how amazing he was.
Pel
Tor was still sound asleep when Pel woke, so as much as Pel would have liked to fit in another round of sex, he left the man to sleep instead, pulled on his shirt, and sneaked out of the tent.
(Honestly, if Tor hadn’t still been recovering, there was no way Pel could have managed it, especially because he made a number of sounds of pain as he escaped.
It turned out that hours of rowing when you weren’t used to doing that was painful.)
Beluna was the one on watch now. It was still early, but the sun was just beginning to lighten the sky, and they’d need to get moving soon.
“How was the night?” Pel asked, trying to carefully stretch out some of the tension in his arms and shoulders.
She waggled her eyebrows. “How was yours?”
Pel rolled his eyes. “I meant the watch, but it was quite lovely, thank you.”
He was pretty sure that his ears were going red, but it wasn’t like everyone hadn’t known what was happening.
She grinned. “Yeah, it was lovely for me, too. He’s very big everywhere, in case you were wondering.”
Pel made a face. “I really wasn’t.”
She laughed merrily, and Pel couldn’t help but smile back. At least they’d all wound up in good moods.
Pel shook out his hands.
“Does the rowing get any easier?”
She made a face, and he took that to mean that she was as sore as he was. Well, it needed to be done, so there was no use complaining.
“I’m going to get breakfast started,” Pel said, “and then we can wake Tor—er, Rinil—and the others and get going.”
She nodded.
Pel woke Tor once breakfast was ready, and Beluna roused Denil and Cavun. They all professed thanks for the meal, though they looked a little bit doubtful at the oatmeal and reheated sausages that had more burnt bits than were ideal.
“You’re not in charge of breakfast anymore,” Tor told him, and then kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks for the food, sweetheart.”
Pel couldn’t even be annoyed.
Beluna nudged Denil. “Den’ll cook, won’t you?”
Denil rolled his eyes but assented. He must have seen Pel’s curious look.
“We grew up living two houses away from one another. Merchant’s and scholar’s child, respectively.” He pointed at Beluna and then himself. “She likes to boss me around.”
Beluna shrugged. “His parents routinely got lost in their books. He needed guidance.”
“I’m married with a wife and child now,” Denil pointed out.
“So it’s even more important that he has guidance,” Beluna said without missing a beat.
They all laughed and managed to eat Pel’s food.
“I clearly need more opportunities to cook for myself,” Pel acknowledged as they packed up.
“We do tend to be spoiled by a whole kitchen of staff,” Tor conceded.
“Can you cook?” Pel inquired.
“Not really. I can reheat a bit better than this, though.” He winked at Pel, who rolled his eyes. “And I can supplement prepared food on a patrol or march, but even with the guard, we didn’t prepare a lot of our own meals. Varex is actually quite a good cook.”
Pel blinked at him. “Your brother? Really?”
Tor nodded, smiling the soft smile that came up occasionally when he was reminiscing but almost never when he talked about the High King in the present.
“He says it’s calming, that focusing on making sure the food came out right lets his mind relax. I never saw the appeal.”