Chapter Twenty-Three
Liam cautiously perched on the edge of the coffee table beside Austin’s chaise lounge, arms crossed over his chest. Seconds of mutual appraisal passed in silence.
Liam wore a variation of what he always did: boring green jacket, boring grey pants, boring black boots.
The fabric was all rigid, ocean wet that had dried in stiff, briny lines that gave a faint crunch whenever Liam moved.
His hair was curled at the edges, the waves lying in thick clumps.
There were stamps of tiredness under Liam’s eyes, making him look to be in his fifties, not his forties.
“You’ve put on weight,” Liam said.
Austin snorted. He lifted the bottom of his tail. “Noticed, have you?”
But Liam was looking at Austin’s ribs, his chest, and his collarbones. Austin peered down at his torso. “Have I?”
“And your colour is better.”
“Is it?” His tail had gone from grey to glowing silver, but obviously that wasn’t what Liam was referring to.
“Your eyes aren’t bloodshot.” Liam scrubbed his face with both hands as tension bled from his body. He deflated. “I was imagining you hiding in a barn or living in an abandoned cove somewhere.”
Austin pursed his lips. “Why would I do anything like that? It doesn’t sound very comfortable.” A need rose inside Austin. He slid his tail sideways, and a prickle of pins and needles spread throughout his lower half. Bare feet touched the warmed wooden floor. He stood.
“No, it doesn’t. And comfort seems to be something you have in abundance here.” Liam dropped his hands from his face.
Austin crushed him into a hug. Standing and taller, his arms hooked partly around Liam’s neck, partly around the back of his head, and he felt the prickle of Liam’s beard against the bare skin of his chest. Liam’s surprised exhale was warm on Austin’s abdomen, and then nothing. Stock still, Liam didn’t even breathe.
Under his chin, Liam’s hair crunched. Austin tugged at a particularly thick clump, finding sand gritted through the strands. “I’m sure Eli offered to draw you a bath. You should have accepted.”
Liam said nothing.
Austin relaxed his grip and sank down, finding himself sitting sideways on Liam’s lap as he pressed his ear to his chest. A rapid thumping boomed against his ear, Liam’s chest expanding as he drew in a shaky breath. An unsteady hand lifted to touch Austin’s shoulder, awkward fingers rubbing him.
Austin’s bitter daydreams about Liam in America tossing nieces and nephews high into the air dissipated.
He’d hardly do that when he didn’t know how to hug someone.
An absurd image of Liam tossing Austin high into the air materialised from nowhere, and he smiled to himself. Liam might manage two or three feet.
“How high do you think you could toss me?”
“Excuse me?”
The door opened. Austin was facing away, though he sensed Tristan before he saw him. Liam lowered a protective arm over Austin’s backside, making Austin huff. Tristan came into view, setting down a tray of food next to Liam on the table. Liam’s other arm rose to shield Austin’s front from view.
Tristan picked up the silk blanket that had fallen to the floor and draped it carefully around Austin. “Try to remember what it felt like to change so you can do so easily next time.”
Austin hummed.
“I’m going to have a look at your leg, okay?
” Tristan knelt and carefully lifted Austin’s feet onto his thighs.
He uncapped a bottle of oil and warmed it in his hands before rubbing it into Austin’s feet and calf muscles.
“My joints usually ache a little when I switch back to legs, and my muscles—my calves more than my thighs—are very tight.”
Austin’s calves were quite sore, an acid ache throbbing through them.
“My calves are more sore too.” But his shin bone—the one he knew had snapped clean in two—was painless.
He reached out from within the silk blanket and began taking crackers and cheese slices from the plate.
He listened as Liam’s heartbeat steadied, losing its racing rhythm. “There’s toast. Have some.”
Liam didn’t reach for it.
Austin dug his elbow into Liam’s ribs. “I can hear your stomach growling. Eat, or else I won’t.”
The massage stopped. Tristan’s eyes snapped up, fixing on Liam.
With a sigh, Liam picked up the nearest slice of toast. “I don’t appreciate those kinds of threats.”
Austin settled more comfortably against Liam.
“Don’t get crumbs in my hair, or else I won’t eat.”
Liam released a long-suffering sigh. He twisted his head away as he chewed.
Austin, to his own surprise, ate almost the entirety of the platter. When Tristan rose to get more, Austin made an objecting noise and pushed his heels into the merman’s legs. “My thighs are sore too.”
Tristan uncapped the oil, warmed more in his hands, and began to massage away the lingering acid ache in those muscles. Austin drifted off, exhausted, and woke to a soft argument.
“He explicitly expressed that he wished me to spend the night with him,” Tristan was saying, calm giving way to annoyance.
“I didn’t hear him say that.”
“It was before we entered this room.”
“Convenient,” Liam replied. His arms around Austin tightened slightly. “He’ll stay with me until he wakes up and says he wants otherwise.”
A low growl rose from Tristan. Based on the direction, the merman was still on his knees at Austin’s feet. “He is not spending the night like this to wake up sore. He is already sore. He’ll be spending the night lying down in his bed.”
“With you to do whatever you like to him while he’s passed out? Absolutely not.”
The growl rose louder. “I take no such liberties,” Tristan hissed. “I spend the night with him because I have been explicitly invited to do so.”
Austin felt drunk with exhaustion as he tried to rouse himself. He leaned forward, sliding out of Liam’s arms and into Tristan’s. “Bed,” he grumbled. He caught Tristan’s neck in a tired nip. “Don’t growl at Liam.”
Tristan’s growl had already stopped. He carefully gathered Austin in his arms and stood. “Eli will show you your room,” he said to Liam with fat-cat pleasure.
“Happy?” Austin murmured tiredly.
“Smug,” Tristan admitted in a whisper. “Forgive me this once.”
???
Austin woke in the middle of the night to Tristan happily purring, nuzzling the top of Austin’s head.
His ear was pressed to Tristan’s chest, listening to his heartbeat as he had listened to Liam’s hours earlier.
It was beating far more rapidly. Austin’s own breaths came in rapid bursts.
He blinked, slowly becoming aware of his body.
Tristan was on his back. Austin lay mostly on his chest, his leg thrown over Tristan’s hips.
His knee hooked around Tristan’s far leg, his heel digging into thigh.
They were both naked, and Austin’s erection pressed against the crest of Tristan’s hip bone.
Tristan’s skin beneath his cock was slick and warm.
As he took stock of himself, his body settled, retreating from an edge he’d been rapidly approaching.
While asleep? No, while half asleep. Austin rolled his hips forward, continuing his half-conscious pursuit.
Warmth and need flowed through his body, focusing into a pulse of heat in his lower abdomen.
He panted into Tristan’s chest, humping until he was breathless and tired, struggling to keep up a fast enough pace to push himself over.
Tristan rubbed his buttock. His voice had a husk in it, as if he’d only just woken. “Would you like me to help? I’d like to help, very much. Please?”
The plea came before Austin had a chance to reply to anything.
A thread of frustration pulled tight in Austin. “I’m too tired,” he complained.
“I am not,” Tristan reassured. He guided Austin onto him fully and took Austin’s ass in both hands, squeezing and kneading with a delighted rumble loud enough to drown out his heartbeat.
Austin’s knees sank into the soft mattress on either side of Tristan’s hips.
Heat radiated from Tristan’s skin like a furnace.
He was firmer than the mattress, all solid muscle.
Austin grumbled, “Wait.”
Tristan’s squeezing turned into gentle stroking, then just holding. Austin caught his breath, debating. His cock was hard and a little sore, but he’d used up his energy rubbing against Tristan.
“I’m not bothered anymore.”
He fell back asleep immediately.