Far From Home Two: The Monster's Heir-- a M/M/M fantasy romance

7-- Close Your Eyes

SAGE—

Ember watched us as if he wanted to ask what my piercing, and the boy's many, meant, but he didn't. Instead, he raised his own shirt and tunic, and dropped his pants. My mouth watered as I studied his dark, broad chest, the smattering of coal black hair thin on his chest, then even thinner down his belly, to disappear beneath his loincloth.

Gods, I wanted to lick that trail down past the impediment of cloth.

I shook my head, turning away.

And looked directly into the amused, knowing eyes of the boy. I glared at him mockingly and he would have laughed. If his mouth could open more than an inch. If he wasn't near falling over in pain and exhaustion.

"I just realized," I muttered with an embarrassed smile, the sight of his twitching lips being unable to move further. "My name is Sage. The angry, glowering one is Ember. Can you say your name, sweetheart?"

I gripped the boy's hand in my own, marveling at how warm and comfortable the hand in my own felt.

And how perfectly the much smaller hand seemed to fit in my own palm.

He shook his head, putting his other hand that wasn't holding mine to his lips in a silencing gesture.

"That's fine," I whispered, squeezing his hand in an affectionate, calming move. "You'll just have to tell us when we get that damn thing off."

I led the boy to the edge of the water, then we moved into it, followed closely by Ember. When the water reached the boy's waist, barely lapping at my thighs, I stopped. The boy was still as Ember moved around behind him and began lathering a cloth in his hands with a bar of soap. When he had enough on the cloth, he handed another cloth and the soap to me.

As Ember began rubbing the soaped cloth down the boy's whip-scarred back, I lathered my own cloth up and started on his face.

"Close your eyes, sweetheart," I whispered. He obeyed immediately, his lips pursed and his body tense. He seemed to trust us, but there was still fear there. "We've got you, sweetheart. We won't let anything happen to you anymore. You're safe now."

I whispered the words gently as Ember and I worked efficiently to get the boy clean, trying to keep him as calm as I could. Ember did the same in Akari a few times when I grew quiet, and before long the boy was clean, his head tilted back, a tiny smile on his face. His body was all but slack in our arms, leaning back against Ember.

When I held the boy's arm up to wash it, I had to fight not to tighten my grip in horror. The boy was covered in whip scars, some brand burns. A few of his fingers were crooked, as if they had been broken and healed wrong, without treatment. When I had cleaned his feet I could see a few of his toes had been cut completely off.

But this scar cut me to the soul.

It ran from his inner elbow up to his palm, thick and ropy and still a little red. It rose up, angry and sore-looking, even though I could see it was at least a few years old.

The boy had tried to end his life at some point.

Ember caught my eye over the boy's head as I froze completely and fingered the mark. His eyes flickered from mine down to my hands, holding the boy's arm delicately, and his face darkened. He bit out a curse in Akari, drawing the boy's attention. He looked up at Ember, then down to me.

The boy's eyes met mine, defiant and knowing.

I could almost hear him, trying to calm me.

It's alright, he would say. You're here now. It's over. I survived.