1. Benjin
one
Benjin
Benjin awoke to the glorious smell of sizzling bacon.
Grinning to himself, he rolled over in bed and stretched with a wide yawn.
Though part of him was saddened to find the spot beside him empty, he could hardly be mad at Haldric for rising early when it meant a delicious breakfast. More quality time together beneath the sheets could wait.
After all, they had the rest of their lives to enjoy one another’s company.
Throwing back the knitted blankets, he climbed from bed and stumbled around the still-dark bedroom, tugging on the first clean clothes he could find.
He’d never been much of a morning person, and he refused to open the heavy curtains drawn across the lone window until he had some proper food in his belly.
Another waft of bacon came to him, and he narrowed his eyes as his mouth watered.
Was it his imagination, or was the smell a bit too enticing, carried a bit too far on the air?
He wouldn’t put it past Haldric to use a simple Compulsion or Alteration to enhance the scent and help coax him out of bed.
Briefly, he considered crawling back under the covers in protest before sighing and pushing the door open. Trick or not, he couldn’t deny its effectiveness.
He followed the narrow hall to the cramped living room and its adjoining kitchen. Too-bright sunlight streamed in from the curtains Haldric had already yanked open across the front of their tiny cottage.
Benjin squinted at Haldric’s familiar tall, broad-shouldered frame bustling away in front of the stove. “What are you trying to do, blind me?”
Haldric glanced over his shoulder past his mane of dark hair and arched an eyebrow, a grin playing over his plush lips. “Don’t be absurd. If I wanted to blind you, I’d conjure my own light rather than rely on something as fickle as the sun.”
Benjin attempted a scowl, but he couldn’t hold it for long.
Not with Haldric smirking at him beneath his sparkling green eyes.
Those eyes could be as hard and unforgiving as the dense jungles of Razaketh when Haldric wanted them to be, but right now they were fully open and deep enough to get lost in.
By the Goddess, how I love this man.
Disgusted by his own sappiness, Benjin tore his gaze away and squinted out the front window.
“Any sign of that Void-cursed peddler?” he asked, surveying Haldric’s garden as though intruders might even now be hidden in a rose bush or crouched behind the rickety gate Benjin had every intention of repairing someday.
Haldric shook his head with what Benjin chose to believe was fond exasperation and turned back to his breakfast preparations. “He really wasn’t that bad.”
“The man doesn’t know how to take no for an answer.” Benjin gave up on his vigil and paced across the living room, weaving around a sagging armchair and a table just big enough for two. “How many times has he been here this past week—three? Four?”
“There’s nothing suspicious about a merchant trying to procure a sale, Benjin.”
“As if anyone in Gerald’s Spring could ever afford his outrageous prices! I’m telling you, Hal, there’s something off about him, and it’s not just the absurd mark-up on his wares.”
Haldric paused in the middle of chopping vegetables long enough to shoot him another brief grin. “I love it when you call me Hal. Makes you seem almost tender instead of the unfeeling cynic you so often pretend to be.”
Benjin masked his embarrassed blush by rolling his eyes. “Trust me, I feel plenty. For example, I feel very strongly that you should’ve let me use a fire Evocation on that peddler. Now that would’ve gotten the message across.”
“And probably sent him screaming to the nearest town guard for help.”
“Worth it,” Benjin muttered. He stopped his pacing in front of another window and snuck a quick peek out at the still-empty garden.
“Are you telling me there’s nothing else you’d rather be feeling right now?”
Haldric’s teasing tone sent a spike of heat clawing up Benjin’s back. Striding over, he looped his arms around Haldric’s broad back and thick chest, marveling at the tight bands of muscle there, so dissimilar to his own narrow frame.
Haldric’s soft black hair, tied back in a loose ponytail, brushed Benjin’s cheek as he rested his chin on Haldric’s shoulder and leaned in to whisper, “I think you already know the answer to that, Hal.”
Haldric shuddered and relaxed into Benjin’s embrace.
Benjin clung to him more tightly. Even after all the time they’d spent here together, he could still hardly believe that someone like Haldric wanted to be with someone like him.
Every morning he got to wake up next to this kind, beautiful man was a small miracle…
and the biggest miracle of all was that Haldric inexplicably felt the same.
Benjin pressed his lips to Haldric’s neck, reveling in the rough scratch of unshaven bristle as he traced a path up Haldric’s square jaw, planting soft kisses all the while.
Haldric sucked in a breath. “Benjin,” he exhaled in a gasp before spinning and grabbing Benjin’s head, drawing him in for a fierce kiss.
Brief gratitude flickered through Benjin that Haldric had thought to set down his knife first. Then, all conscious thought fled as he lost himself in the firm press of Haldric’s lips. The play of his breath. The intoxicating taste of his mouth.
“I love you,” he heard himself whisper, scarcely able to believe himself capable of such a declaration. “Until the Immortals cast back the Void for good, until the warring tribes of the Gaumuron Swamps make peace, until the final star in the Great Beyond goes dark, I love you, Haldric.”
“And I you, Benjin,” Haldric murmured in-between stolen kisses.
They stood there, locked in each other’s arms, basking in their shared contentment, until Benjin caught a whiff of acrid smoke.
Pulling back, he raised an eyebrow. “How about until the bacon burns?”
Cursing, Haldric broke free of their embrace and rushed to the stove. Azure runeflame laced with threads of silver coated his hand as he channeled a quick Evocation of wind and frost to lower the temperature.
Benjin always enjoyed watching Haldric perform magic.
His precise hand gestures were so much more graceful than Benjin’s half-trained fumbling.
Benjin might have been born with a certain innate gift for Evocation magic, but what Haldric lacked in raw talent, he more than made up for in study and dedication.
“Go on. Sit.” Humor glinted in Haldric’s eyes as he shooed Benjin away. “You’re distracting me.”
Chuckling, Benjin obeyed, settling onto his preferred stool by the table. While he waited for Haldric to finish cooking, he amused himself by conjuring a small puppet made from flame. The animated fire danced across the tabletop in a crude approximation of a twirling ballerina.
“Must you do that at the table?” Haldric complained good-naturedly. He slid a platter of bacon in front of Benjin, along with fresh fruit from the garden and a heaping pile of scrambled eggs. “It leaves little scorch marks all over the wood.”
“Then, it sounds like there’s no harm in me continuing to do it since the damage has already been done.”
Haldric gave Benjin a flat look as he settled in the other stool across the table. Benjin fixed him with an innocent smile, holding it for a span of heartbeats before dispelling the animated fire with a tiny burst of runeflame. He dug into the food with unbridled enthusiasm.
“We really should think about investing in a couple chickens,” Haldric said, nibbling on a piece of bacon while he watched Benjin gorge himself. “Prices are only going up thanks to the shortages, and we’d save a fortune in gold gallants at the rate you go through eggs.”
“And I suppose you’d expect me to care for them?” Benjin protested through a mouthful of food.
“I bet you’d take right to them. Give it a week, and you’ll be demanding we keep the chickens inside with us so they don’t get too cold in the autumn chill.”
Benjin hated that Haldric was probably right. The Void-cursed man knew him too well. “I mean, it would be the prudent choice. We’re far enough from town that all the wolves and other predators might try to eat them.”
“Wolves.” Haldric shook his head and chuckled. “Right.”
They ate in companionable silence until Benjin leaned back in his chair with a satisfied groan, resting a hand over his belly. “I’m not sure I can eat another bite.”
Haldric grinned. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
He rose and began gathering up the used dishes before Benjin laid a hand over his, stopping him. Haldric looked at him questioningly.
“Here, let me,” Benjin said.
“Oho,” Haldric laughed, his emerald eyes sparkling. “You really are feeling sentimental today, aren’t you?”
Benjin flushed and stalked toward the kitchen.
A wave of his hand and a flash of runeflame sent the dishes careening after him.
In his haste, however, he’d imbued the Evocation with a touch too much force and had to scramble to catch the plates before they shattered against the wall.
He sheepishly deposited them in the basin.
“Well, what do you expect with all that talk of love?” he said, attempting a more complex Conjuration to fill the basin with water. Once again, the spell refused to cooperate, spraying water across the front of his tunic and britches.
Haldric was there in an instant, his delicate fingers working runeflame to dry Benjin off. “Are you all right?”
“Everything except my pride,” Benjin sighed, hunching over the filled sink.
He tensed when Haldric draped his arms around him and pressed a tender kiss to the back of his neck. “Nothing to be ashamed of, love. Your pride is intact.”
Benjin avoided looking at Haldric. A familiar shame coiled in his chest. “I wish I had your control,” he said, his voice quiet. “Magic comes so naturally to you. It’s like…like watching a master musician or dancer, every note they play or movement they make effortless.”