Bare Your Teeth, Wicked Ones

24. Butterflies

Nicholas

William shuffled into the tent, as promised, though later than expected. Nicholas sat up in bed, having taken to it after a pounding headache forced him to step away from Fearworn's visions. William took his offered hand and did not put up a fight when the fae yanked him into the blankets. Their lips caught in a smooth kiss that he thought far too much about since their promised rendezvous.

"I don't even get a hello?" William whispered when Nicholas moved from that tempting mouth to an equally enchanting neck. He marked the skin, uncaring of the medic tugging at his hair in a futile attempt to remind him not to. Nicholas wanted William to think of him whenever he caught his reflection, when anyone happened to ask about the mark. He would sear his memory into William's very bones, if he could.

"Hello," he said, savoring the sensation of William's chuckle echoed against his mouth. Then he dared to yawn. "Yawning during a moment like this is wildly inappropriate."

"Do not speak to me about what's inappropriate when you are the very definition of inappropriate." But William yawned a second time. The hood of his eyes fell.

Nicholas nestled himself between the medic's legs, finding them unbelievably comfortable. He could lay like this all night, enraptured by William's form. He slipped a hand behind William's neck. "You are tired."

"A marvelous deduction on your part." William groaned when he let his weight fall on him entirely.

"Who dared to exhaust you when I'm in need of your attention?"

"In need?" William mocked. "You're so dramatic."

"You like my dramatics."

"Do I?"

"I imagine you wouldn't tolerate me if you didn't."

William snorted and rested a hand upon Nicholas' hip. Calloused fingers danced over his skin, leaving goosefeathers in their wake. ""There are too many idiots in the military. Two fools shot themselves today, one in the foot and the other in his left butt cheek. Do not ask me how, he would not tell, and I doubt either of us can conjure a moronic enough scenario to explain it. That along with my usual duties has led to a tiresome day."

Chuckling, Nicholas suggested, "Shall we rest a bit then? You need your energy for all that I want to do to you. I want you to be loud for me this evening."

"Oh, is that my form of repayment for the other day?"

"Yes, I deserve praise and the sweet sound of your voice in utter ecstasy."

That enticed another chuckle prior to Nicholas catching William in a kiss, hoping it would serve as a distraction to the odd warmth spreading in his chest. He would not dare admit to liking the sound of William's laughter, even muffled against his mouth. Speaking that aloud would be dangerous, it would be real.

William's fingers caught in his hair, tugging the tie loose. Then Nicholas fell away, lying beside the medic, who's eyes closed. Like this, William almost looked gentle. Soft and serene, so easily breakable, though Nicholas had learned better. The moment those eyes opened, he met with cold steel, an immovable force that no magic of this world or any other could stand against.

"Medicine doesn't seem the path someone like you would choose voluntarily," Nicholas claimed, earning a curious stare.

"Didn't you sneak papers on me? You know Montgomery caught I had an affinity for healing and set me on this path."

"Yes, so you didn't choose it. It chose you, but why stay?"

"Survival," he replied, then carried his gaze skyward.