Page 39 of The Lost Art of Finding Where You Belong (Lost Arts #2)

There had never been a documented case of someone older than twenty manifesting new control. It was much more likely to happen during puberty, with fourteen to sixteen being the most likely range.

“I know that I won’t ever understand it firsthand,” Perian continued, not wanting Brannal to worry he was holding out hope for something impossible.

“But I spend a lot of time with a lot of Mage Warriors now. You all have this amazing gift that I’m in awe of but which I don’t understand very well. So I thought I’d read up on it a bit.”

Brannal continued to stare at him for a long moment, and then he tugged Perian closer and pressed a kiss to his lips.

“I’d be happy to give you any books you like,” he promised. “But I don’t want you to think there’s anything you have to learn. I’ve been very much enjoying everything we do together. You’re not… you’re not lacking in anything, Perian.”

And Perian had climbed onto his lap and proceeded to show him just how much he appreciated that sentiment.

He didn’t think that was what was driving his desire to learn more, although perhaps there was an element of truth in it.

Mostly, though, he simply wanted to understand his friends better.

Brannal got him several of the books the novices used, which mostly hammered home the point that a great deal of concentration and focus was needed, especially at the beginning.

The initial connection was instinctual, but then Mages had to learn to control it.

All Perian’s friends, once they realized what he was doing, invited him to ask if he wanted to know more. Once he was sure they meant it, he peppered them with questions.

He’d mostly seen deliberate uses of magic that weren’t about him, but it turned out most of them were perfectly willing to demonstrate just because he was interested .

Molun laughed when he asked if he was sure he didn’t mind. “Perian, Mages love to show off.”

Many of them had integrated their magic into their daily lives: if Molun or Brannal spilled water over the edge of the bath, they scooped it up without thought. Nisal would use the air to blow a door shut that hadn’t quite latched. Arvus never had sand or dirt blow into his eyes on a windy day.

Perian had seen Brannal wave at the fire and watched the flames leap higher.

Glasses of water never needed to be refilled by hand if you were eating with Brannal, Molun, or Delana.

It was something they did without thinking about it, but they didn’t usually go up and down the halls using their magic just because they could.

But someone who had questions and wanted to see what they could do?

Yeah, it turned out they were just fine with showing off.

And if it was him and Brannal, it always ended with sex. Perian hadn’t been lying when he’d said the man’s use of the elements was altogether arousing.

He even asked when the next trip to a watch station would be.

“Not for months,” Brannal said from where he lay curled up next to Perian. “Unless something drastic happens, anyway.”

Perian nodded, because he did understand that demons weren’t predictable, and in an emergency, of course Brannal and any of the others could be called in.

“We typically do inspections every few months, make sure that everything is running smoothly. People are supposed to report problems, and they usually do, but we like to make sure.”

“That’s very sensible,” Perian agreed.

“I can send Cormal next time,” Brannal told him. “We usually take turns.”

Perian smiled against the other man’s chest and pressed a kiss to it.

“If you don’t think he’d mind.”

Brannal snorted. “Oh, I’ll hear all about it, I’m sure, but one of us has to go, and I don’t see why it shouldn’t be him.

Besides, that means I’ll get the winter inspection, and he always complains about the cold, so I’m sure it will work out.

Molun and Onadal and his second-in-command go too, and that should be easier. ”

And that gave Perian months to figure out how to convince Brannal he would be very happy to serve as a bed warmer on that particular inspection.

That was a role you could be assigned, right?

Chief warmer of the Summus’s bed? If he had enough time, Perian was sure he could sell that to the Queen. He would work on his pitch.

Just knowing that Brannal was thinking months ahead made Perian happy.

A few days later, Perian found his trunk in Brannal’s rooms when he returned with the blankets after lunch. He’d actually forgotten he’d sent for it from his estate, and he was so glad Nisal had remembered to send off his letter.

It would definitely be handy to have a few more shirts and other clothes. Perian much preferred that they could have sex with abandon and not need to ponder if he was about to dirty his last shirt or pair of trousers.

A letter from his steward and his housekeeper assured him that everything was fine both in the house and on the estate, which was just what he wanted to hear. He hadn’t expected problems, but it was good to have confirmation. He was always relieved that the estate was modest and well-managed.

Everything had been neatly packed, and Perian pulled it all out, lips tipping up because Cook had made sure to bundle in a tin of his shortbread cookies. Perian preferred to be here with Brannal, but he did miss home sometimes, too.

He might have paused to eat a shortbread or two, and his belongings were still in disarray around him when the door slammed open. Perian clapped a hand to his heart.

“What are you doing?” Brannal demanded.

“You startled me,” Perian scolded. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

Brannal’s voice was tight. “Packing.”

Perian looked around and snorted. “Oh, true. But I’m doing the reverse.”

“What?”

The word was snapped and Perian looked properly at the man. He was… stressed? Angry? Why was he looking at Perian like that?

He jumped to his feet.

“Are you all right?” he asked .

Brannal was still tense and staring at Perian with an expression he couldn’t figure out.

“ What reverse?” Brannal demanded.

Having already gotten distracted, it took Perian a moment to trace back through the conversation.

“Oh! I’m unpacking. I—”

He cut off abruptly as he realized Brannal had come bursting in here, totally panicking, because it looked like Perian had been packing .

He flung his arms around the man.

“Oh, the rumor mill in this place. I don’t know who saw the trunk come, but you’d think they might have noticed it came from outside the castle.

After losing two shirts in a short space of time to accident or injury, I thought it might not be a bad idea to write and have some more of my things delivered.

I wouldn’t ever leave without telling you, Brannal, I swear. ”

The man’s arms came to wrap tight around him, Brannal’s breath rushing past Perian’s ear in a harsh pant.

“Sorry. I—Sorry.”

Perian tightened his grip. “No, don’t apologize. I swear to all the elements, if you decided to move out without saying anything, I’d send Molun and Cormal after you.”

Brannal snorted. Perian pulled back enough to lean in and kiss the man properly. It was Brannal’s turn to melt into the kiss, and Perian made sure to keep it warm and affirming.

When he drew back, he asked, “Do you have to rush back to wherever you rushed from, or do you have a few minutes for tension relief?”

“I absolutely do not have time for tension relief,” Brannal said, but Perian couldn’t help but notice he wasn’t pulling away, and his eyes were bright and hot.

Perian slipped to his knees and reached for the fastening of Brannal’s trousers.

“I guess I’ll have to be very efficient,” Perian said with a wink before he freed Brannal’s erection and swallowed him whole.

Brannal’s hands migrated to Perian’s hair, twining in the strands and tugging a little bit, just the way Perian liked. He fondled Brannal’s balls, and it wasn’t long before Brannal was coming down his throat, his satisfaction almost making Perian feel like he’d come too.

Perian made sure to lick Brannal altogether clean before tucking him away and carefully fastening his trousers again .

“Feel better?” he asked.

Brannal hauled him up so he could kiss him thoroughly, chasing his own taste in Perian’s mouth until Perian felt altogether plundered.

“Much,” Brannal said, voice such a low rasp he could have been the one giving the blow job. “What about you?”

But Perian just shook his head. “That was for you. I need to get back to my un packing, and you need to get back to work.”

Brannal hesitated for a moment, then he pressed one more kiss to Perian’s lips. “Tonight,” he promised. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

Perian flashed him a grin. “Looking forward to it.”

He very much enjoyed the anticipation.

He felt bad for inadvertently upsetting the other man so much, but there was a little part of him that was… kind of rejoicing that Brannal seemed to view the prospect of his departure with such dismay.

Was it still too early to label what they felt for one another in a sort of… permanent way? He’d never felt like this about someone before, never wanted to spend so much time with them, never loved not just the sex but all the other time they spent together. He’d never been so invested before.

Brannal might be a few years older, and he’d certainly led a more adventurous life, but moments like this gave Perian hope.

All of his new belongings squared away, Perian went and found one of the runners and requested that his trunk be stored, so it could be gotten out of the way immediately.

Brannal had apparently decided they were not going to waste any time with other people, because dinner arrived shortly before the man himself did.

Brannal smiled when he arrived. “I want you all to myself.”

Perian grinned. “I am entirely at your disposal.”