Then Falk appeared in halo of cold radiance, carrying a bucket of fried chicken and a six-pack of Anchor Steam Beer.

Jason rolled out one of the many Persian carpets and they ate on the floor in the warm fluttering light of the smoldering ember. Initially, hunger rendered Jason oblivious to everything but devouring hot drumsticks, salty biscuits, and cool beer. But slowly he became aware of the way the Henry watched him as he slowly drank his beer.

“Do I have something on my face?” Jason asked. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand self-consciously.

“Yeah,” Falk replied. He leaned close. “Let me get it for you.”

He kissed Jason and his mouth tasted like beer and something earthy and strong that Jason couldn’t name but yearned for. He leaned into Falk, kissing back and feeling the sensation of Falk’s lips and tongue shiver through his entire body.

He wanted this so very badly and yet he didn’t know if he trusted where it would lead. Falk’s hand curled around his shoulder and Jason thought he would pull him closer, but he didn’t.

Jason drew back. Falk held his gaze even as he allowed him to withdraw.

“I thought you didn’t…” Jason wasn’t certain of what he wanted to say except that after they’d screwed this morning Falk had seemed so cold, almost angry with him, and Jason didn’t want that to happen again. “This morning…”

“I was an asshole this morning. Sorry about that, I wake up surly. But I don’t think I ever said anything about not wanting you.” Falk’s mouth curved like he might laugh, but his gaze remained intense and fixed upon Jason. “What about you? What do you want?”

Jason wasn’t certain how to answer that. For such a simple question it asked so much—from his long-ranging romantic ideals to a preference of sexual positions.

In response Jason simply caught Falk’s scarred, calloused hand and drew him up onto the silken divan.

They undressed together. Jason felt self-conscious, comparing his soft naked body to the ropey muscle, rough blond hair, and scars of Falk’s tall frame. His inexperience seemed so obvious.

But it relieved Jason to see that he wasn’t alone in his feverish, flushed skin or excited, shaking hands. Jason tossed his T-shirt aside and Falk kissed his bare chest and then his abdomen, sending tremors through Jason’s flesh.

“You’re beautiful all the way to your bones, you know that,” Falk told him and then he pulled aside Jason’s underwear.

Jason gasped as Falk’s mouth engulfed him, his silver tongue lashing waves of pleasure through him. He didn’t know if it was magic or simply a result of Falk’s vast lifetime of experience, but never before had Jason felt ecstasy rock him so powerfully or linger so long after.

As Jason lay, sticky and catching his breath, he noticed that the ember had died out. It didn’t matter; Falk illuminated him, bathing him in a glow as radiant as starlight. Jason touched Falk’s weathered cheek and he wasn’t sure if Falk’s expression was sad or tender as he gazed down at him.

“Are you worried?” Jason asked.

“Maybe a little…” Falk stretched out beside him on the divan. “Mostly about rolling off this thing.” He pulled a crooked grin.

But Jason could tell he was lying and Falk seemed to realize as much because his expression sobered.

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Falk admitted. “But that’s life. Sooner or later everyone loses something or someone.”

“It’s not like I’ve never lost anyone.” Jason searched Falk’s angular face. He didn’t know how he could look so rough and handsome at the same time. Like one of those tough-guy detectives from an old-time movie: the kind that talked mean and then sacrificed everything to save some hapless heroine in the end.

But Jason wasn’t a heroine and he wasn’t hapless. And most importantly he wasn’t going to let fear of an unknowable future keep him from embracing his freedom now.

“Look,” Jason said, “I can’t promise that I—or you for that matter—will be safe and sound for all time to come. But we’re here together now. And this is good, isn’t it?”

“It’s very good,” Falk admitted. The smile that curved his mouth this time was genuine.

“Then let’s enjoy now,” Jason suggested.

Falk kissed his brow lightly.

“If we’re going to keep enjoying ourselves, I need to get something out of my coat pocket,” Henry informed him.

Jason guessed that even magicians needed lube and condoms.

When Henry returned, he lay down behind Jason. His hands felt hot as he stroked the muscles of Jason’s bare back and traced curling designs down the length of his spine.

“Is this all right?” Falk asked.

Eight hours ago it might not have been, but now Jason nodded.

He relaxed, allowing Falk to arouse his languid body, while he built a song of passion and rapture in his mind. Falk shifted them both up to their knees. Jason’s skin shivered with delight at the sensation of Falk’s hair brushing over his back and buttocks. The heat of Falk’s skin and the smell of his sweat filled Jason’s senses as his hard width filled Jason’s body.

Falk moved so carefully, easing into Jason as if he were delicate beyond imagining and in response Jason whispered the first notes of his longing. He felt Falk’s entire body respond. His hands dug into Jason’s flanks and his hips rocked deep and strong.

Jason’s breath caught.

“Don’t stop,” Falk groaned into Jason’s shoulder. And Jason realized that Falk was in his power in this moment and giving himself up to Jason’s longing.

 Jason called out in the rhythm of desire and coupling bodies. Falk answered him with a primal drive, pinning Jason hard and fast to the power of his own demands. They rocked and thrust, both caught up in the possession of yearning.

Shaking, as ecstatic sensation rushed through his body, Jason whispered only for more, plunging them both deeper into his song of ecstasy.

At last Jason’s voice broke in a hoarse moan and Falk called out with him.

Jason collapsed against the cool silk of the divan and Falk fell beside him, breathing heavily and shining like the sun. Jason thought he could feel Falk’s heart beating against his back.

“I can die happy now,” Falk muttered. “My God, you’re…fucking amazing.”

Jason grinned. He didn’t think he’d ever felt so utterly pleased to be so spent. His eyelids drooped and he nearly dropped off to sleep right then. But he realized that he ought to say something.

“You were great too,” Jason mumbled. “Amazing fucking.” Falk gave a dry laugh and Jason let himself drift into a contented doze. Falk shifted beside him, but Jason didn’t open his eyes. He barely felt Falk’s fingers caress his brow.

“Sweet dreams,” Falk wished him, and Jason thought he felt Falk’s lips graze his feverish skin. He drifted but then came near waking as he felt Henry’s hands lingering on him.

“Lend me the grace of his form,” Falk whispered as if offering up a prayer. “Let my coarseness keep him from harm.”

It seemed an odd thing to say, but Jason could hardly keep the words in his mind. In moments all he recalled were soft comforting sounds floating at the edge of his awareness. He felt Falk spread his tattered trench coat over him and wish him safe dreams and a deep, deep sleep.

***

Jason wasn’t sure how much time had passed. It seemed like only minutes, but a particular feeling of warm sunlight dancing across his closed eyes undermined his certainty.

He managed to crack one heavy lid, but his vision seemed hazy and his sluggish mind felt too slow to respond to anything he saw.

Beams of bright morning light revealed a circle of sharp-featured, stately men dressed in leather and green silk and holding ivory spears. Their features struck Jason as unnaturally handsome and cold. Their skin shone like polished brass. Falk stood before them—

And Jason knew he was dreaming then, because Falk stood barefoot, wearing only Jason’s jeans and yellow T-shirt. He held Jason’s red hoodie in his hands.