Page 13 of The Lost Art of Finding Where You Belong (Lost Arts #2)

He really was. “Just sleep?”

“Unless you change your mind,” Arvus agreed. “It’s all up to you. We never want anyone unwilling in our bed. Or anyone who’s going to regret it the morning after.”

Perian nodded, feeling really tired all of a sudden.

“Yeah, all right. That sounds nice.”

It was a combination of nice and weird, to be honest. Perian went back to Brannal’s room and changed into his sleep trousers.

Sleeping with Nisal yesterday had been closer to accidental than anything, and there’d been no awkward moments in part because they weren’t attracted to one another and in part because Nisal had fallen asleep when he hadn’t been looking .

Now, though, Perian was climbing into bed with not one but two other men, something he’d not actually done before. And it was two men he was attracted to, who were attracted to him. But Brannal wasn’t here, and he definitely felt like the missing ingredient.

They all jostled around a bit, and Perian wasn’t sure he should be the one in the middle given they were the couple, but finally, Arvus just manhandled them into position, both facing him, with Arvus plastered against Perian’s back and Molun at his front, arranged a little higher up the bed so Perian could tuck his head up against the other man’s chest. Both of them had flung their arms over him, and while it wasn’t as good as Brannal touching him—nothing was—it was still much warmer than when he was in the bed by himself. He felt surrounded and safe.

He blew out a slightly unsteady breath.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Molun pressed a gentle kiss to the top of his head.

“You’re welcome, Perian.”

“Goodnight,” Arvus murmured.

Perian had thought it was going to be hard to fall asleep, that there would be too many limbs or heartbeats or something, but in fact, it was the opposite.

It seemed to him like the heartbeat pressed against his back and the one next to his ear were in sync, the breathing too, and Perian was soon breathing in concert with them, all of them aligned together, so very soothing…

Perian woke to something that was, in fact, not a sword pressed hard against his ass. He snorted to himself.

His pillow shifted, and the man who was pressed snug against him said, “Something funny?”

“Yesterday, it was Nisal’s sword. I mean literally, their sword. They were drunk and fell into bed fully clothed, and I didn’t try to take anything off.”

Molun shook with laughter, and Arvus shifted back a little so he wasn’t pressed so insistently against Perian.

“Sorry about that,” he mumbled. “You’re very warm and appealing.”

“I’m not about to blame anyone for morning wood. It happens to all of us.”

Molun rocked a little bit, causing Perian to hiss in a breath.

“I noticed,” the other man said, a little bit smugly.

Yes, so Perian was aroused too, and it was currently trying to drill its way into Molun’s thigh.

He sounded a little breathless as he repeated, “Like I said, happens to all of us.”

“There’s an easy fix for that,” Molun said teasingly.

“Molun!”

Perian had never heard Arvus raise his voice before. It wasn’t a lot louder than normal, but it was definitely sterner. Molun winced and then looked embarrassed and apologetic.

“Sorry,” he said, looking right at Perian. “We said it was up to you to change your mind, and we didn’t mean with dirty tricks. Sorry.”

“It’s all right,” Perian said, reaching out to squeeze his arm.

“I know you didn’t mean any harm by it, but I do very much appreciate that the two of you are willing to do this.

This was a better night’s sleep than I’ve had since Brannal left.

Don’t tell Nisal. Though that might have been the drunken snoring. ”

Molun laughed, relaxing again, and a few moments later, they were able to climb out of bed, and no one made further comment about anyone’s erections.

“Thank you again,” he reiterated. “I’m going to go get ready for my day. More knives in my future—I mean the ones that can actually kill you.”

Molun laughed, Arvus rolled his eyes, and Perian felt curiously buoyed.

It had been nice to be wrapped up in their arms, but he still wasn’t sure about more.

The desire was there… but it wasn’t quite right?

Then he imagined Brannal watching, and that seemed super appealing.

So… Brannal was a key component of all of his fantasies?

As he cleaned himself up, he thought about that unsettled feeling he’d identified while he was riding Prince Horsey. It was still there, still simmering around the edges. He hoped he wasn’t getting sick, as that wouldn’t improve Brannal’s absence.

He’d rarely gotten sick growing up, his father saying he was the sturdiest child. But when he’d been fifteen or sixteen, he’d slept a great deal, feeling tired all the time, drained and disconnected .

But as with so much, his father had faced this brightly.

He’d said it was a normal thing for moody adolescents to go through, and it took lots of energy to grow.

Perian smiled to himself. His father had brought him to the city for his first visit, and that had indeed seemed to shake off the tiredness.

Was Perian going through another adolescence?

He felt like he’d just barely got through the first one. That would certainly be embarrassing.