“Nothing.” Noah paused and gave him a gentle pet. “Just... I keep smelling smoke. Not the cigarette kind. Need to shower. Go back to sleep, but if you get up, don’t forget to eat. Dane will eat me if you go hungry.” He grabbed a towel from the back of the door and padded out into the hall.
Lindsay dozed off again, but the sound of the shower from down the hall kept dragging him back up out of sleep. He lay there a moment, soaking up the warmth left by Noah’s body. Sleeping with Noah had felt wonderful, but his conscience nagged at him about something, forcing him to pay attention until things became more clear.
In flashes of wakefulness that had flickered between long, dark silences of deeper sleep, he’d pressed himself against Noah, as close as clothing and skin would allow. That was how he slept with Dane, the lines between sleep and the suggestion of sex blurred by their intimacy and familiarity.
Damn it. He’d felt safe and close, his body had been seeking and provoking the arousal that reassured him he was wanted, without regard for the fact that he was offering himself to the wrong person. And how could it be the wrong person, when no one but Dane had ever made him feel safe before?
Only that realization kept him from feeling more guilty than he did already. With Noah, it wasn’t supposed to be like that. Lindsay was supposed to be the one keeping Noah safe. He should have been offering Noah reassurance and comfort, not sex. Sex didn’t mean those things between them. It shouldn’t mean anything at all, except that Lindsay had gone and done that. It wasn’t the first time his sleep-addled instincts had driven him across a line he never would have crossed awake.
He hoped Noah would understand. At least Noah hadn’t seemed out of sorts. He’d just gotten up and left. Given how disastrously Noah had reacted to Kristan, Lindsay thought he’d know if Noah was distraught. Noah had been turned on, though, breath thick on Lindsay’s neck and cock hard against his ass, but thankfully, even with them both half-sleeping and Noah half-drunk, it hadn’t gone further.
Pushing his hair out of his face, Lindsay sat up. He should go. He just...he hadn’t expected Noah to respond to him. Now that Lindsay was awake, Noah’s response was almost more perturbing than Lindsay doing something thoughtless in his sleep. Dane was the only one who’d ever shown any hint of that kind of interest in him. He hadn’t thought to look for it from someone else, especially not someone he was attracted to, like Noah.
At least he could talk to Dane about it if he had to. Dane would probably laugh at him, the way he’d laughed when he’d been the recipient of Lindsay’s improper early-morning affections. The shower cut off and Lindsay made himself move. Noah needed his privacy. And maybe Dane would be ready to let Lindsay in.
He slipped out of Noah’s room before Noah came out of the bathroom, and padded up the stairs as quickly as he could manage without sounding like a herd of cattle tromping through the house. Partway up, he collided with something solid. Dane.
Writing Ezqel was as painful as if Dane had done it in his own flesh with a knife, and the pain lingered instead of fading. For once, the wretchedness of dealing with Ezqel had nothing to do with the icy truce between them. If Dane had reason to hate Moore before, he had ten times the reason now. Her madness, and the complicity of those around her, was killing Cyrus. Dane wanted this over, and was ready to do anything to make it happen.
Cyrus’s prediction that Dane would fail him one day had always felt like it would manifest in a single, terrible event. Instead, it was happening over weeks and months. In little ways, every time Dane set out to do something, he failed. Even how he felt about Lindsay was a failure, in terms of doing what Cyrus truly needed of him.
Dane wanted to regret that, and the fact that he couldn’t nagged at him. How could he regret anything about Lindsay, except that he’d never known Lindsay existed before Lindsay saved himself from Moore?
In spite of all his efforts to chastise himself for putting Lindsay first time and again, he could only regret that Cyrus hadn’t sent him after Lindsay sooner.
Vivian would take care of the letter when she returned, which Dane expected any hour now. Cyrus slept under Negasi’s care. And Lindsay... Dane unlocked the door to their room. He hoped Lindsay had been with Noah, but now that he’d done what Cyrus needed of him, he wanted Lindsay to himself.
Dane could hear the bathroom fan running and, over the noise, he was sure he could hear the near-silent patter of Lindsay’s feet on the stairs. He kept as quiet as possible himself, not wanting to wake Cyrus.
Sure enough, Lindsay was almost at the first landing, head down, watching where he stepped. Some habits were harder to break than others. Dane wanted to shake him for it sometimes. Instead, he held still and let Lindsay collide with him. Lessons could wait.
Lindsay made a deflating sound like he’d been holding his breath until he’d run into Dane. His head came up and the apologies started almost before his mouth had opened. “I’m sorry. I— Are you—?”
Dane cupped Lindsay’s face in his hands and kissed him. Words were rarely his strong point and suddenly having Lindsay there took away the handful he had at his disposal. There was no way he could be coherent about everything he felt, but Lindsay understood the language of his actions.
The kisses in return were hot and wanting. Lindsay pressed against him, arms winding around his neck like vines. Yes, Lindsay understood.
Dane swept him up and held him close the way he had when Lindsay was barely more substantial than a ghost. Lindsay had grown stronger and taller over time, but he still weighed nearly nothing in Dane’s
estimation. He carried Lindsay back upstairs and nudged the door of their room closed behind them. All he wanted was a moment of peace—time out of mind—with his Lindsay.
Carefully, as though Lindsay was still as fragile as he had been when Dane found him, Dane laid him down on their bed. He pulled away from Lindsay’s sweet, hot kisses and stroked his silky hair back from his face. Flushed, Lindsay was only barely touched with color. Everything about him looked like it was washed in moonlight, from his white-gold hair to his cloud-gray eyes. The animal in Dane wanted to hoard Lindsay like a treasure, protecting what was his from thieves and predators. He brushed a kiss over Lindsay’s forehead, breathing in his scent and finding it tangled with Noah’s.
Dane’s beast would have been more settled at dragging Noah back as well. That way, Lindsay would have no worries, and Dane would know that everything that was his was safe. He needed to know, when so much else was wrong, but it would have been unfair to do that to Noah. He nosed in Lindsay’s hair, rumbling contentedly as the scents there calmed him. Unfair now, but maybe not for much longer. At least something was right. One small thing.
“I don’t want to wake Cyrus,” he murmured, as he was nuzzling in the soft, sweat-perfumed hollow under Lindsay’s ear. “Please.” He let his head rest in the curve of Lindsay’s neck, defeated by his fears and inner conflicts.
He heard Lindsay’s breath catch, then Lindsay nodded and stroked his hair. “It’s done. No one will hear.” As though nothing had changed, Lindsay drew Dane up with his hands in Dane’s hair and kissed him.
“Thank you.” Dane pushed aside the feeling of failing again. He hated to think of Lindsay using his magic to deceive in their own house. Lindsay’s kisses distracted him well, though, and he let Lindsay pull him in for more.
Lindsay’s clothes kept Dane from his skin, and they stank of the chaos that had been on the air at Wildwood. Dane let his shape slide, settling back into the way he’d been when Lindsay had first come to him, and drew his claws down Lindsay’s chest. The fabric of Lindsay’s shirt parted without a sound, leaving the skin below untouched and bare for Dane to kiss.