Page 9

Sebastian cracked open one eye. Wesley was standing in the doorway, gaze locked on Sebastian. Despite his flirtatious words, however, his gaze was on Sebastian’s face—more specifically, on his bruised cheek.

Sebastian looked away. “I’m getting warm.”

Wesley gestured at his own body. “I’m not warm enough for you anymore?”

Sebastian leaned forward, turning off the taps. “Get in here with me.”

Wesley snorted. “Duck,” he said, slow and patronizing. “I’m not your lithe and lovely little Edith. I would not fit in there by myself, let alone with you.”

Sebastian narrowed his eyes. “Get. In.”

“Bossy tonight,” Wesley said, in an interested tone of voice. He reached for his tie. “If you insist. But you can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

A minute later, Wesley had stripped as well, and was settling into the other side of the tub.

His long legs tangled with Sebastian’s, bony feet and sharp knees pinning him against hard marble.

And Sebastian would concede they didn’t fit, and in a literal sense it wasn’t as comfortable as it had been alone, but the water was blissfully hot, everything smelled clean like soap, and it was better with Wesley there.

Wesley settled into the water, facing Sebastian, arms along the edge of the tub. “Did you take the powder?”

“Yes.” The bar of soap was floating along the water, light when Sebastian’s own chest felt heavy. “You don’t need to worry, you know. And you didn’t need to get in a fight tonight. I can handle a hit on my own, Wes.”

“Darling, really, do you have to make everything about you?” Wesley said, with a deceptive sort of lightness. “Has it occurred to you that perhaps I can’t handle you getting hit?”

Sebastian blinked.

“You know, I actually wasn’t aware I was capable of that sort of rage,” Wesley went on, still with the false lightness.

“I mean, obviously I’ve been angry many times in my life.

Furious, even. But the way I felt when I saw that brute’s fist strike your face—knowing you had no defense because you gave your magic up for me —”

He shook his head, not meeting Sebastian’s gaze.

“I do know I behaved like a bullheaded idiot, rushing to save you when you can take care of yourself, and starting a whole fucking bar brawl to boot. But what I’m trying to say is that you shouldn’t take that as a knock to your ego.

It wasn’t that I thought you couldn’t handle it; it was that I couldn’t bear it. ”

“Wes.” The heaviness in Sebastian’s chest lightened, morphed, became something else, not embarrassment and shame at his own failure but something warm and sweet. He shifted, bringing his legs under him, because suddenly even tangled together in the tub wasn’t close enough.

He leaned forward, fitting himself in between Wesley’s legs as he brought his lips to Wesley’s.

They kissed softly, Wesley seeming to hold himself very still, maybe so he wouldn’t accidentally put pressure on bruises.

There was a trace of smoke in the kiss; Wesley must have lit a cigarette at some point, his nicotine addiction winning the battle tonight.

Sebastian pulled back. Wesley had struggles of his own and he was being honest; Sebastian was going to be honest about his own shortcomings in return. “My ego deserves the knock,” he admitted ruefully. “Billy would have beaten me to a pulp if you hadn’t stepped in.”

Wesley licked the lips Sebastian had just kissed, looking into his eyes searchingly.

“I don’t really know how to fight,” Sebastian confessed. “Under blood magic, someone else pulled my strings, and with my own magic—” he shrugged helplessly “—I never had to learn.” He swallowed. “So you weren’t being a bullheaded idiot. I needed saving tonight. And I’m really lucky you were there.”

Wesley raised his hand off the edge of the tub. It hovered in the air for a moment, like he was about to touch Sebastian’s cheek, and then he lowered it. “Sebastian, I—” He uncharacteristically hesitated, then said, “You’re certain your magic wasn’t there?”

“I’m certain,” Sebastian said. “Why?”

“It’s just—there was a moment, in the Magnolia,” Wesley said. “Billy had a knife, and I almost didn’t see him in time, but before he made contact we both fell—”

Sebastian shook his head. “It was a fight, Wes. People fall. Magic has nothing to do with it.”

Wesley didn’t look fully satisfied by that, his gaze flitting over Sebastian’s face. “But maybe—”

“Hope only makes disappointment sting harder,” Sebastian said quietly. “You’ve always been right about that.”

“Christ, don’t ever take life lessons from me,” Wesley said, more sharply. “Keep those rose-colored glasses on.”

“But I’ve got to learn how to get through life without magic,” Sebastian said.

“Why do you do this to yourself?” Wesley said, and this time his hand did come up, fingers lightly touching Sebastian’s bruised cheek.

“You were doing it in London, forcing yourself to move on immediately from literal blood magic. Now it’s been barely a couple weeks without magic, yet you believe you’re required to have already mastered a non-magic life? ”

His words were sharp but his fingers gentle as they drifted forward to twine in the damp hair at the back of Sebastian’s head. “When life knocks you down, you can take a damn breath before you get back up,” Wesley said gruffly. “You can even rely on others. Imagine that.”

Sebastian’s heart was beating faster, the warmth in his chest spreading through him. “I think you just said you’re going to keep fighting speakeasies for me.” It came out more serious, and less of a joke, than Sebastian had meant.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Wesley said. “I mean, for fuck’s sake. I think a knife fight was genuinely an easier feat than trying to fit together in this bathtub.”

“We really don’t fit,” Sebastian said, and kissed him again anyway.

Wesley’s mouth opened for his, letting his tongue slide between his lips as Sebastian’s hand slipped under the water. He wrapped his hand around Wesley’s cock and heard him suck in a breath.

“We don’t fucking fit,” Wesley said, against his lips, his cock stiffening in Sebastian’s hand, “and soap in water is not nearly as slippery as one thinks it ought to be.”

“It really isn’t.” Sebastian stroked him anyway, swallowing his groans with kisses.

Earlier, outside of Jade’s door, he’d been ready to pull Wesley on top of him.

Now, though, he felt raw, aware of how lost he was without magic, aware that he didn’t really know how to move on into a world where he didn’t have it.

But he had Wesley beneath him, letting him set the pace, pliant under Sebastian’s hand and lips, like maybe this was what he wanted too.

Sebastian broke the kiss, moving his lips to Wesley’s neck and ear instead. “Can I take you to bed?” he whispered, gliding his hand up and down Wesley’s cock.

“Christ.” Wesley’s eyelashes fluttered. “You can take me anywhere you like as long as it’s bigger and softer than this fucking tub.”

Sebastian huffed a half laugh and pulled all the way back.

They didn’t manage to grab towels, stumbling out of the bathroom together with lips locked and hands on each other’s skin until they fell as one onto the bed.

Sebastian pushed Wesley over, and he went easily onto his back.

The curtains were drawn and the bedroom lights off, but light spilled in from the bathroom, illuminating the long, strong lines of Wesley’s body for Sebastian’s eyes.

Sebastian crawled over him, balancing on all fours. Wesley had strength but didn’t bend easily—in bed or in life—and Sebastian liked him just the way he was. “Ninguna magia podría encantarme como tú,” he murmured.

Wesley’s cheeks were flushed, his eyes gone half-lidded. “What are you saying?”

“Sappy things you won’t want to hear in English.”

“I know encantar is enchant and tú is you and I can guess magia is magic .”

Sebastian kissed his neck, and Wesley’s head fell back, giving him better access. “Then you can guess maybe something enchants me more than magic.”

“No, stop, you’re forbidden from saying anything so outrageously sentimental.”

“There was a reason I said it in Spanish.” Sebastian dipped his head to kiss Wesley’s collarbone, then shifted to drop a kiss on his stomach.

Wesley arched up. “As much as I’d like you to keep going with that mouth,” he said, breathless and needy, “I suspect that bruise on your face will not be pleased with what you’re planning.”

Sebastian kissed his stomach again, and his cheek twinged as if in agreement with Wesley. Fitting anything in his mouth would hurt. “I’m fine,” he said stubbornly.

Wesley tsked. “Such a bad liar.”

“You’re not as big as you always think you are.”

“That’s not what you said the last time I fucked you.”

Sebastian huffed a laugh into Wesley’s skin. “I can handle a little pain, Wes. Aren’t you the one who knows what to do with a flogger?”

“You’re trying to distract me, but I know you’re well aware that’s a different game.

” Wesley’s hand touched his hair, light and almost hesitantly gentle.

“Christ, I’m still angry at that fucking degenerate who laid hands on you tonight.

And I think you better fuck me before I storm that jail and demand to revive some of history’s most gruesome and excruciating punishments. ”

Sebastian glanced up. “That’s so…violently sweet?”

“You did say you wanted more romance.”

Another laugh escaped Sebastian. Beneath him, Wesley’s muscles were flexed and tensed, his cock hard and straining. Visibly wanting more, but he wasn’t demanding it—was letting Sebastian take the lead.

“I think I understand why you liked this,” Sebastian said, pushing away the twinge using the past tense, liked , had caused.

“What do you mean?”

“Why you liked pinning me down when I had magic.” Sebastian kissed his hipbone, letting his tongue trace bath-warmed skin. “There is something about knowing you could take over but you won’t, that you like this too. That it doesn’t matter if you’re bigger; I still get to have you however I want.”

“I feel like you’re fighting dirty right now,” Wesley said, groaning.

“Knowing how willing I am and using it to torture me. Except you don’t get to have me however you want; you get to have me in a way that takes some damn care with your bruised face.

You’ve got hands, duck; use them. Preferably now . ”

Wesley’s authoritative tone sent pleasant shivers up Sebastian’s spine.

Only weeks ago, that tone of voice probably would have been accompanied by Wesley flipping him over and taking control.

But even with the teasing, Wesley wasn’t going to do that tonight—wouldn’t do it ever again, unless Sebastian could handle it.

Because even though Sebastian had lost his magic, he was completely safe with Wesley.

He kissed Wesley’s stomach again.

“Sebastian de Leon,” Wesley said, low and warning and gravelly with want. One of his hands was curled, the sheet balled in his fist. But he still wasn’t taking over.

And yes, he really understood why Wesley had liked having him at his mercy so much when Sebastian had had his magic. But Wesley had endless patience to draw things out and Sebastian most definitely did not.

He shifted up to kiss over Wesley’s heart, then grabbed the oil they’d left on the nightstand.

As much as he wanted Wesley in his mouth, it would hurt.

Wesley had his own battle scars from a bad past, and if he didn’t want to be the cause of pain, Sebastian would always respect that.

He slicked his palm with oil instead, working Wesley’s cock and slipping fingers inside him, making him shift and shiver until they were both panting.

“Now, come on,” Wesley said, a raw and needy edge to it. “Don’t be gentle.”

Sebastian thought he could almost hear the words Wesley wasn’t saying. My skin never stops crawling for nicotine. My mind never stills. Distract me, take me out of myself.

Sebastian knew the feeling. The only place he could ever really escape was with Wesley.

He shifted, crawling up the bed so they could kiss again as he slid into Wesley, and the tightness of his body was enough to make Sebastian dizzy.

“Perfect,” Wesley breathed, their lips so close that Sebastian felt the shape of the words more than heard them.

He rocked his hips gently, and Wesley arched, a groan of pleasure escaping him that sent answering sparks through Sebastian.

“Wes,” he said softly, over the sound of their breaths. “Thank you for being there tonight.”

“Oh no, you’re talking, I’m never going to last now.”

Sebastian laughed. He touched their foreheads together, rocking his hips again, all attention focused so he could move his body however Wesley liked best.

He needed to keep talking, though, to say it all. “When Billy swung at me, I didn’t duck, because I tried reaching for my magic—but it wasn’t there,” he whispered. “I was falling, and reaching for a rope, but there was only empty air.”

Wesley’s hands tightened on his shoulders.

Sebastian swallowed. “But then you were there, Wesley. I needed help, and you were there.”

“Sebastian,” Wesley said, hoarse and rough.

And then they were kissing again.