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He’d come back. Did that mean he was willing to talk to Wesley about Valemount’s hunt? Or had he returned to argue, or worse, simply grab his clothes and then leave again?

Wesley set his unread book and glasses on the nightstand and turned off the bedside lamp. He stared up at the ceiling, listening to the water run in the bathroom sink.

Acutely, painfully aware that he hadn’t the first fucking clue how to navigate an actual relationship.

Sebastian came back out, turning off the last lamp on the dresser and sending the room into darkness. A moment later, the mattress dipped.

And then Sebastian was sliding under the blankets and curling up at Wesley’s side. “I cannot believe we have to go to a fucking fox hunt.”

“I’m sorry.” The words that had been on the tip of his tongue finally spilled from his lips. “I am sorry, duck. I promised you this wouldn’t happen, but now here we are.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Of course it is. You were at a hunt ball with my entire hunting club—”

“But you didn’t mean for this to happen.” Sebastian rested his head on Wesley’s heart. “Even if you hunt yourself, you would never have purposefully dragged me to one. You are kinder than that.”

Wesley stared into the soft dark, the shapes of the furniture just visible.

What on earth did he do with an angel like Sebastian, who thought so incomprehensibly well of him?

Where did he get such faith in the goodness of a devil like Wesley—now, of all times?

And how could Wesley ever hope to keep him when he couldn’t even keep a promise?

His fingers itched for Sebastian’s skin, more powerful than a cigarette craving, the urge to prove to himself that Sebastian was real, or maybe to say through touch what he could never seem to put into words.

He forced himself to keep his arm on the bed.

He already had Sebastian against him, and he still wanted to touch him more ? For fuck’s sake, how greedy was he?

“I have come to think that kind hearts shouldn’t have to learn to be cruel,” he said, instead of indulging himself. “Not that I expect anyone else on this earth would believe me capable of such a mindset.”

“Because you don’t have enough people who know you .” Sebastian made a disgusted noise. “People are fucking terrible sometimes.”

“Christ.” A huffed laugh escaped Wesley. “None of that, you sound too much like me.”

“No, see, we have always been on the same page about this. Why do you think I like animals so much?”

That got another laugh out of Wesley. “Are you saying animals are better than people?”

“Sometimes,” Sebastian said, with feeling. “You will see, when you go home to Crumpet and Flan.”

When Wesley went home, he wanted Sebastian to be with him.

He still hadn’t figured out how to broach Sebastian sleeping with him with his staff.

But there, in the warm and cozy bed, with Sebastian’s head a perfect weight on his chest, Wesley let himself have one moment of believing that maybe, somehow, it would all work out, that he could have that perfect fantasy of having Sebastian wherever life took them, be it America or Spain or the Caribbean or his own London home.

Maybe he could even learn how to have a relationship, how to satisfy his endless craving for touch through affection.

Or maybe Wesley should just admit he was thinking of fairy tales now.

Sebastian tilted his head up, and there was a light kiss on Wesley’s jaw. “Sorry if you thought I was angry with you. Sometimes I can’t find words in any language, but I wouldn’t give you the icy shoulder.”

A tiny smile softened Wesley’s lips. “ Cold shoulder.” And Christ, of course Sebastian wouldn’t have done that.

Did Wesley still not know him at all, not understand that the soft heart that didn’t want to hurt foxes didn’t want to hurt Wesley either?

When was his first instinct going to be to have faith in Sebastian?

The skin of his jaw still tingled with the echo of Sebastian’s lips. Well, he could damn well start now, with the belief that he could admit something deeply vulnerable and trust Sebastian would never laugh at him.

“Sebastian,” he started hesitantly, “may I ask you a fairly embarrassing question?”

Sebastian tilted his head back, so he was looking up at Wesley. “Of course.”

Wesley wet his lips. “How, um. How do you know what to do?”

“When?”

“When you’re—you know. The kissing and the touching.”

Sebastian furrowed his brow. “You are already good at both of those.”

“That’s not—”

“Like, you are so good—”

“Very flattering, but not what I meant.” Wesley cleared his throat. “When we’re not having sex. How do you know what to do?”

Christ, who asked a question like this? Surely every human being on earth was born instinctively knowing these unwritten rules, and Wesley was simply broken?

But Sebastian wasn’t laughing. “Oh.” He rolled off Wesley’s chest but stayed close, his head now pillowed on Wesley’s arm as he lay on his back on the mattress in a mirror of Wesley’s pose.

His air was thoughtful, like he was giving the question serious consideration.

“I don’t think it’s all that different from sex, actually. ”

“They’re quite different, I assure you. Or else I’ve been getting sex terribly wrong.”

Sebastian gave a quiet laugh. “No, I mean—you touch me how you think I will like, don’t you? And you pay attention to how I react? It’s all the same things.”

Wesley frowned. “No, sorry, I can’t accept that explanation. Nothing is ever that easy.”

“You’re right, you caught me,” Sebastian said wryly. “I’m pretending to be considerate about you, but the truth is that mostly I just touch you how I want.”

“Oh please, that answer is even worse,” Wesley said. “If I always touched you how I want, I would never take my hands off you.”

Sebastian laughed again, soft and low. “So then don’t take your hands off me. Well, in public, yes, you probably have to. But in private, no.”

“It’s not that simple.” Wesley turned his head toward Sebastian. “What if I did something you didn’t like?”

“Then I would tell you, and you would stop.” Sebastian shrugged, and Wesley felt the movement through the arm he’d claimed as a pillow. “Some people don’t like to be touched. I like it a lot. Every relationship is different and you figure it out together.”

Sebastian liked being touched. And here Wesley had been enjoying Sebastian’s affection while offering none of his own.

Had Wesley been so self-obsessed, so worried about looking foolish, that he hadn’t been giving Sebastian what he needed?

That was an unpleasant, chilling thought.

Or did Sebastian like some affection, but would quickly get sick of Wesley’s incessant craving for touch?

Wesley eyed the outline of his profile, what he could see in the dark. “I’m probably making this harder than it needs to be,” he confessed. “But everything having to do with people is always so difficult.”

“Well.” Sebastian rolled onto his side, so he was facing Wesley. “You did say I wasn’t people . So maybe with us, it really can be easy, yes?”

Easy.

Wesley rolled to his side as well, so that they were nearly nose to nose on the same pillow, Sebastian’s head still on his arm.

He reached out with the hand not pinned under Sebastian and trailed his fingers up Sebastian’s arm, the way he usually only let himself do in the afterglow, or when Sebastian was asleep.

“I really think you’re not prepared for how much I want to touch you,” Wesley said, and his voice was a little hoarse.

“Wes, I spent three years as a prisoner of blood magic,” Sebastian said, just as hoarse. “Every time you touch me, it quiets another bad memory and reminds me I’m free. I don’t think you could ever touch me enough .”

“Christ, come here.” Wesley closed the distance between them and kissed him, his free hand going to the back of Sebastian’s head to thread fingers through his hair.

There was a word for the feeling coursing through Wesley, warm as a distant tropical sun.

He’d once believed his heart was too hard to ever let someone else in.

But here he was, with part of his heart irrevocably belonging to Sebastian now, even if Wesley still wasn’t brave enough to think the word that went with this feeling, let alone say it.

He pushed Sebastian over onto his back. “I know I just asked how to touch you outside of sex,” Wesley whispered, “but I might put you straight through this mattress now.”

Sebastian put both arms around Wesley’s neck and pulled him down into a kiss.