“Get some rest,” he said softly.
As if Perian had been doing anything else. Grumbling to himself, Perian nevertheless found himself dozing off. It was disconcerting to feel quite this bored and so unexpectedly well-cared for at the same time. Perian was grateful, restless, and wanted nothing more than to bury his nose at the juncture of Brannal’s neck and shoulder and inhale him. Sometimes, he thought Brannal wouldn’t mind that, moments where his eyes flared hot with what Perian was sure was want… but then the moment was gone, and Brannal was standing up or turning away or taking a look at one of Perian’s injuries.
Perian didn’t think Brannal was indifferent to him, but there could be myriad reasons why he chose not to act. Perian had crashed into his life unexpectedly; it wasn’t like Brannal had asked for any of this, even if he was doing a wonderful job caring for Perian. He’d fed him, tended his injuries, even helped with bodily needs and cleaning him. He’d mentioned the possibility of a bath tomorrow, now that Perian was more healed, which would be amazing. Brannal had been unfailingly patient and kind about everything, but Perian was definitely an imposition.
It had been perhaps six or seven days—he had entirely lost track—when the bruising had mostly faded to a bit of yellow or green. He wasn’t completely healed, but he looked and felt worlds better than he had when Brannal had found him. Perian was now able to walk around the sitting room with minimal discomfort. He wouldn’t be winning any races, but he felt nearly normal.
Perian sat shirtless on the bed so that Brannal could undo the binding on his ribs to check if the scrapes had healed, which they had. Brannal brushed his hand across Perian’s nearly unblemished skin, and Perian sucked in a sharp breath, goosebumps erupting at the gentle caress.
Brannal snatched his hand away as his eyes flew to Perian’s.
“I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”
Perian reached out, retrieved that hand, and carefully pressed it back to his torso. Very deliberately, he said, “You didn’t hurt me, no.”
It was Brannal’s breath that caught this time, his eyes dark and hungry.
“Perian—”
Perian wasn’t sure if it was a protest or an entreaty, nor was he sure which one of them moved first, but their lips found one another, the kiss growing hungry until they were rolling around in the sheets, hands roaming greedily as all the feelings they’d been suppressing erupted. Perian had to tug several layers out of the way to get to Brannal’s skin, but it was worth the wait when he spread his hands over that broad chest, mapping out those glorious muscles with his fingers.
They rolled again, Brannal stretching out over Perian, which was amazing but a mistake, because while Perian would normally adore such a perfect weight pressing him down, his mostly healed ribs protested the movement, and Perian let out a sound that couldn’t be mistaken for anything except pain.
Brannal rolled off him with alacrity, concern and regret flashing in those dark eyes, and Perian could practically see the mood evaporating.
“Did I hurt you? I didn’t mean—”
His words cut off abruptly as Perian slung a leg over Brannal’s hips and straddled him.
Perian grinned. “I guess I’ll just need to be on top. There are a few things I can think of doing from this position. What do you think?”
Brannal still looked concerned, so Perian rolled his hips, grinding into the hardness beneath him. Brannal’s hands clamped onto Perian’s waist, and for a moment, Perian thought they were done.
Only then Brannal’s fingers tightened, and he leaned in, and they were kissing again, eager and perfect. They parted so they could yank Brannal’s shirt off, and Perian let his fingers explore the contours of those muscles as his eyes greedily drank in the sight of him. It was even better than Perian had imagined, and he’d been doing little else for days. Brannal’s hands swept up Perian’s back, gently caressing the skin. Each touch was like an extra burst of pleasure, and he wanted to feel more of it. He leaned in and kissed Brannal’s chin and jaw, made his way down his neck and bit at the smooth column of his throat.
Brannal shuddered, his whole body jolting, and he tilted his neck to give Perian better access. Perian grinned against his skin and continued his exploration, kissing those broad shoulders, licking and biting the nipples in that well-formed chest. Perian licked and sucked and kissed his way down Brannal’s torso, loving the way those incredible muscles quivered the lower Perian went.
He was pretty sure Brannal could have fought his attackers off even without the fire. Perian had never had the chance to enjoy such glorious muscles up close and personal. He couldn’t wait until his ribs were fully healed so Brannal could hold him down. He knew that would be glorious. In the meantime, Perian just had to come up with other things they could do.
Grinning to himself, Perian unfastened Brannal’s trousers, listening to the fast breathing that was so much more intense than when Brannal had carried Perian back here after his rescue. He wrapped his hands around his prize. Brannal let out a sharp hiss of sound at the touch and bucked into Perian’s hands.
Freeing Brannal’s cock from the cloth that imprisoned it, Perian admired the heavy, warm weight as he pumped it a couple of times, enjoying the lovely sounds that Brannal made. His cock was beautiful, thick and long, and Perian’s mouth watered. He leaned in and sucked it, tonguing the head to another glorious sound from Brannal, whose hands had found Perian’s hair and seemed to be hesitating there, clenching and unclenching.
“Feels so good,” Brannal murmured, voice strained.
Perian would love to take his time and carefully explore every inch of the man—all of him, not just his cock—but he was feeling as impatient as Brannal seemed to be, the energy between them sparking higher and higher, demanding immediate action. Perian would save finesse for later. Instead, he relaxed his throat, sucked Brannal all the way in, and buried his nose in Brannal’s groin.
Brannal yelled, hands clenching tight around strands of Perian’s hair.
“All the elements,” Brannal swore. “Your mouth.”
Perian pulled back a little to breathe through his nose, glorying in the other man’s scent, in the heavy weight on his tongue, before swallowing Brannal down once more. He wasn’t sure that bending like this was actually great for his ribs, but in this moment, he didn’t care. There’d be time for other positions later, and if his ribs were going to ache, he’d much prefer it be due to this sort of exertion.
Energy was thrumming between them as they connected with this most primal of acts. Perian pulled almost all the way off, admiring the way the man’s shaft glistened with Perian’s spit, and then he swallowed it down once again, setting a fast rhythm because he wanted nothing more than to make Brannal come. Brannal’s fingers clenched rhythmically in Perian’s hair once more, pulling him closer just the way that Perian craved, tugging him back each time Perian retreated, until Brannal’s whole body froze. His back arched, hips lifting and thrusting as he came down Perian’s throat.
Perian swallowed him eagerly, milking every last drop, his body singing with pleasure. Brannal finally made a sound that indicated he was too sensitive, and Perian reluctantly released his wonderful mouthful and crawled up Brannal’s body.
Brannal kissed him, tongue delving into his mouth, even as his hand snaked between them, slid into Perian’s loose sleep trousers, and wrapped around his rock-hard erection.
“You’re glorious,” Brannal told him when he drew back enough that they could breathe, making Perian’s heart sing even as he tried to thrust into Brannal’s hand.
He was way too worked up from getting Brannal off, and it didn’t take very many sweeping strokes before Perian was spilling between them, gasping his pleasure into Brannal’s mouth before collapsing on top of him.
Brannal let out a warm chuckle and coaxed Perian onto his back long enough to tug off his sleep trousers and wipe him clean. Then he climbed back into bed and pulled Perian into his arms. With a happy noise, Perian burrowed his nose into that juncture between Brannal’s neck and shoulder and drew in the glorious scent. Lassitude crept through his body, and he thought he felt a kiss to his temple before he slept.
Perian awoke alone in bed, and he frowned at the empty space next to him. He would have liked to resume last night’s activities immediately. But he’d woken alone in bed every morning he’d been here, so this wasn’t exactly unusual, and Perian still felt buoyed from the excellent orgasm last night. Climbing out of bed, he was pleased to find he wasn’t dizzy at all. In fact, he felt nearly pain free. Even his ribs didn’t ache at the moment, and he grinned to himself as he considered that maybe giving a blow job was somehow exactly what they’d needed. (His father had always said sex was good for what ailed you, but Perian hadn’t taken him literally.)
He used the toilet, cleaned his teeth, and splashed water on his face. He peered at himself in the mirror above the sink and committed to definitely bathing today. He looked more than a little dirty and unkempt. In retrospect, he should probably have aimed to have that bath before any play.
His lip curled up. No, although he was a bit embarrassed now, he wouldn’t actually change a moment of what had happened last night. Brannal had wanted him as much as he had wanted Brannal, and it had been wonderful. It wasn’t a bad idea to be clean for the next round, though.
Brannal had left out another white shirt and loose trousers, clothes that he had continued to loan Perian throughout his recovery, due to the damage to his own clothing and its inappropriateness for sleepwear. While Perian enjoyed dressing in the other man’s clothes very much, it was high time to get some of his own.
Actually, if he was feeling this much better, it was about time he gave the other man an out, wasn’t it? Although, if Brannal had enjoyed himself last night as much as Perian had, there were plenty of possibilities here—possibilities that didn’t include Brannal taking care of him day in and day out because he was injured. Definitely better to get on even footing.
So, Perian smoothed his hair as best he could, straightened his slightly-too-large clothing, and determined that after thanking Brannal for his excellent care, he would suggest that bath. This could easily lead to a discussion of Perian’s own belongings and hopefully become an invitation to extend his visit, or at least to repeat the fun of last night.
Armed with this resolution, Perian made his way into the sitting room, where all his intentions immediately went up in smoke as his heart sank. Brannal was sitting there waiting for him, and one look at that carefully expressionless face and those tight shoulders told Perian this wasn’t going to go any of the ways he had been hoping for.
“How are you feeling?”
Brannal had asked this question a number of times over the days Perian had been here, and never had it sounded as emotionless and performative as it did now.
“Quite well, thank you,” Perian said, attempting as little emotion in his own voice, though with markedly less success.
“There’s tea.”
Brannal gestured, as though Perian couldn’t see for himself that there was a teapot on the table, but he nodded and sat down anyway, allowing Brannal to pour because that gave him a couple of moments to regroup and ready himself for the dismissal that he really should have considered was coming.
Perian had proved last night that he was altogether functional, after all, and Brannal had clearly not been looking for someone to share his room.
Brannal handed over the cup, and Perian took it and sipped from it. It was a little too hot, but that scarcely mattered. He watched the curls of steam rise from the liquid and disappear into nothing, rather like Perian’s foolish hopes and dreams. He inhaled and exhaled slowly. He hadn’t really been thinking with his head, now had he? What would a Mage Warrior want with him? Perian certainly hadn’t shown himself to particular advantage. The heat from the cup seeped into his hands, but Perian still felt a little cold.
Perian cleared his throat. “As I said, I’m feeling much better, so I should probably be on my way.”
Dark eyes bore into his. “If you’re sure you’re well enough.”
It was Perian’s turn to eye Brannal, trying to figure out if this was actually an invitation to stay. But no, barring something a lot more explicit than that, Perian had to assume the comment was meant at face value.
“I’m fine,” he therefore confirmed, making sure the words were casual—and then worrying that they sounded too dismissive, as if he were making light of the whole situation. “I do want to thank you again for everything you’ve done for me.”
“That’s not necessary.” The words were cool, almost dismissive.
Perian stiffened and felt his own temper flare. Was this because Perian was feeling better and Brannal didn’t have to put up with him anymore? Or had he gotten what he wanted last night, and now he was done with Perian? He wouldn’t be the first to behave in such a way. They didn’t actually know one another. Clearly.
“All right,” Perian said, rising to his feet.
If the man didn’t even want Perian’s gratitude, then his absence was really the only thing he could give.
He was scarcely even feeling grateful at the moment, but he still had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from thanking the man again. But it was not desired, and even if Perian thought the man was being a bit of an ass now, he had saved Perian’s life.
“Goodbye, then.”
And with that awkward utterance, Perian headed for the door, a door which it was just occurring to him he’d not actually been out of in all the time he’d been here. But he wasn’t about to ask Brannal for directions, so he just continued on his way, closed the door carefully behind him—so much more mature than slamming it like he wanted to—and made it about two steps down the hallway before several things happened at once.
One, Perian became aware that not only was he dirty, unkempt, and not properly dressed, but he was also barefoot. Two, he found himself in a long corridor with a lot of doors, and he had no idea where he was going. And three, the door across and slightly down from Brannal’s opened and two men leaned out. They took him in and then looked back at Brannal’s door.
The taller one with dark hair smiled faintly. The smaller man with the brightest blue eyes Perian had ever seen grinned at him and waggled his eyebrows. It looked like he shoved the other man into the hallway so he could face Perian.
“Well, well, well. Brannal has been so busy the last few days. And we’ve never seen anyone come out of his rooms looking like you do right now.”
“What?” Perian demanded flatly. “Recovering from being attacked by three men who thought ‘no’ wasn’t an acceptable answer?”
The smile fell right off the man’s face. He looked genuinely shocked, and Perian felt a little bad. It wasn’t his fault he’d jumped to the wrong conclusion while Perian was in a rotten mood.
The door behind him suddenly opened, Brannal calling, “Perian, wait, do you need—”
He cut off abruptly as he realized Perian was right there and the corridor was not empty.
A biting voice interrupted them. “I’d say he needs a good scrubbing. And for you to pay a lot better for your pleasures.”
Perian turned the other way to find a man with red hair, green eyes, and a look of derision to match his tone.
Perian was very done with this entire morning, and he snapped with more temper than sense, “I take my payments in reciprocal pleasure only, so I can assure you that I was amply rewarded last night.”
Someone made a strangled sound behind him, and Perian flashed his coldest smile at the redhead. “Thank you for your concern. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to be anywhere but here.”
He turned back towards the other two, because they had sounded amused rather than critical before. He made it two steps.
“Do you have any idea who I am?” the redhead man demanded.
Perian turned around even as he kept walking. “I really don’t care.”
Fire suddenly ignited in both of his hands. “How dare you speak to me like that, you son of a wraith! I am Secundus!”
“Cormal!” Brannal snapped.
The redhead raised his hands as though he were going to throw the fireballs at Perian. With a rushing sound, Cormal was suddenly drenched in a deluge of water that put out the fire and made him mad .
Cormal started yelling, Brannal and the others started yelling back, and Perian took slow, careful steps backwards until he turned a corner and could breathe again. If only he wasn’t still barely dressed, barefoot, and had no idea where he was going.