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There was only one bed.
Surrounded by a thick velvet curtain, piled high with furs and tufted pillows, it was at least three times the size of the mattresses at the academy. Mike stood before it in full armor, looking at it like he was going to the gallows.
“You’re being dramatic,” Will said. “We’ve slept together before.”
Mike cast him a glare over his poor choice of words, Will realizing a little too late, flushing sheepishly. “When we were in the field and didn’t have a choice,” he groused, fiddling with his arm brace, lifting one to his mouth to unlace it with his teeth.
Will abruptly turned away, busying himself with removing his gloves. Obviously he knew the difference between a big cushy bed and a thin roll on the cold hard ground, but it seemed to him that both scenarios could be equally as effective at playing with his heart. He’d felt just as nervous when Mike sat against a tree trunk, urging Will to rest with his head in his lap.
He was sure he’d not sleep a wink, that he’d lay there in torment all night thinking of Mike’s hands on him. The proximity would likely kill him, and he had no choice but to accept that fate.
The leather riding gloves had gone tight from the cold, cracked in the middle from how hard he’d clenched his horse’s reins. It didn’t help that his hands were still too frozen to flex. He struggled to pull them off, letting out a frustrated breath when they wouldn’t budge.
“I’ve got it,” Mike said, cupping Will’s hands between his, steadily warming them up in order to take off the gloves without chafing. He’d removed his cloak, his boots, and arm guards. His hair was still a little wet from the snow, glistening darkly, but it curled wildly against the heat emanating from the hearth.
Will tithed his breathing. In and out, slowly, deeply. It was becoming harder and harder to control himself around Mike. Even his magic was beginning to pitch a fit.
Slowly, Mike freed each of his fingers, smoothing a thumb across his knuckles and the back of his hand to make sure his skin hadn’t dried or cracked. Suffering windchill was presently the least of Will’s concern, but he enjoyed the attention regardless.
It was such a simple act, but the fact of Mike made it sensual. Of course, that might’ve just been Will’s fascination with his hands. He turned his face away, hoping the glow of the suddenly roaring fire would explain the rising color in his cheeks.
Mike had beautiful hands. Long, bony fingers, yet elegant still. Talented in swordcraft, curling around the strap of a heavy shield. The same hands that rested on the nape of Will’s neck when he felt faint.
“There,” Mike said, tossing the gloves onto the dresser. “Better?”
Will nodded, forcing himself to step away, tugging his fingers from the gentle warmth of his palms. Mike’s brow creased, but he let him go, arms falling back to his sides.
He focused on removing his cloak, then his belt, fiddling with the complicated ties and clasps as Mike stoked the fire. Finally, Will pulled himself free from the stuffy purple robe, laying it across the back of the armchair before bending to untie his boots.
When he stood up, Mike was staring at him, lips parted.
“What?” he asked, brow furrowing. He guessed there was something on his face or underclothes, glancing down at his white shirt and thick fur-lined leggings, but they were clean.
“You’re undressed,” he said, voice a little thick.
Will stared at him. He was still fully clothed, practically up to his neck. “No, I’m not.”
Mike gestured weakly at the robe he’d shed, and Will let out an incredulous laugh as he plucked his boots off. They gave a satisfying thunk when they hit the floor. “Just what did you think was underneath that? Nothing?” He fell back into the armchair, flushed, pulling on the collar of his shirt.
The room was suddenly stifling, the air simmering with something invisible, but still so palpable. Will wanted to combust.
Mike wet his lips. “I didn’t expect you to look so…”
“I am perfectly respectable,” Will said, rolling his eyes.
Mike made a vague sound. “Respectable. Right.” He blinked rapidly, then shook himself like a dog, hair wild around his face. Will forced him to chop it some weeks before, and now it rested at quite a pleasing length, curled across his forehead and the tops of his ears.
Will wondered if he imagined the way Mike’s gaze hungrily dropped to his collarbone before flitting away, jaw ticking as he swallowed down a swell of emotion. Something inside of him sang, his magic twining around the tether between them, playfully tugging on it.
Mike didn’t seem to notice, distracted as he was.
Not now, Will thought, sinking into the chair, ashamed of his own desire. Mike had done nothing but cherish him, and here he was having illicit fantasies about him; his quick, clever fingers skimming all over his body, hands pushing him down onto the bed, climbing over him to lay between his spread legs, hot against his core.
The words came before he could snatch them back. “We’ve been granted stays by the queen. We can do anything we want,” he said idly, in a leading sort of way, and Mike nodded.
He’d planned on visiting his family first, Mike gallantly escorting him to the border then departing to go his own way. That was obviously impossible now that they were snowed in and the mountain pass was closed. They’d gone to the nearest town to find an inn, their horses stowed in the barn to recover from the exhausting journey.
At first, Will would have rather braved the storm than share a bed with Mike, but the idea was steadily becoming far more appealing the longer Mike looked at him like he was seeing him for the first time. Or rather that he was letting himself see him for the first time.
“So,” Will continued in the thick, heady silence, restlessly tapping fingers against the chair arm, Mike’s eyes pressed upon him like a reverent touch. “What is it you want?”
Finally, Mike lowered his gaze, contemplative. His dark lashes brushed his cheeks, stark against his cool, pale skin. He unclipped his chest plate and let it drop to the floor, left only in his silver chainmail. Will had the sudden and insatiable urge to run his hands over the interlocking links, to grab him by the thicker rings at his shoulders and yank him in.
Perhaps, he thought, they might even be useful for balance–should he ever find himself in Mike’s lap.
Will’s breathing changed pace, just the idea of that enough to make his pulse race. The hearth responded to his emotion, flames lunging high with a burst of longing, desperate to escape the confines of it. When he noticed what he’d done, he quickly tamped his magic back down, scolding it.
Mike’s gaze flicked to the fireplace, then to Will. He seemed to be internally debating something as he slotted his sword onto the rack with a click, then pulled the chainmail over his head, leaving him in his dark tunic. Will had always loved him in blues and blacks, the dark, night sky colors complimentary to his skin and hair, the slightest purple sheen beneath coming to life.
“When we were granted our leave, I thought of visiting Lucas. My best friend, and I haven’t seen him in months,” Mike said, leaning back against the small table, bracing his palms on the edge.
Will felt a lance of pain. “I thought I was your best friend.”
Mike was amused by that. “Yes,” he agreed with a soft smile, “but you are also something else entirely.”
Of course, Will thought pitifully. Mike meant that they were oath-bound. He stood and went to the fireplace, placing his hand on the mantle, attempting to comfort the flames as they threatened to snuff themselves out.
“I won’t have you beholden to me, Mike,” he said, toying with a spark as it leaped from the hearth and excitedly zipped around him in a flurry before he ushered it back where it belonged. It was hard to ignore the despair crawling up his throat, though he’d come to accept he was alone in this. “You are free to do as you wish. I’ll be alright.”
Mike was eerily silent behind him. Will glanced at him, heart stuttering when he saw how intensely he was being stared at. His paladin had become far more serious the last few months, looking at him long, always seeming to be on the cusp of confessing something to him.
In the end, he would always pull away, and the rush of hope Will felt would die unrequited in the span of a breath.
It wasn’t taboo or even remotely unusual for their respective classes to develop romantic feelings for each other, especially after becoming oath-bound. It was even expected, to an extent. A natural progression of the relationship.
Will had dreamed of it since they’d met. Though they were young and inexperienced, Mike’s vows clumsy as they were earnest, he’d fallen in love when he saw him there on his knees. Mike had reached for his hand, grinning cheekily when he felt how clammy his palms were, and Will knew he was done for.
Mike’s heated expression had cooled into something tender. “I thought of all the places I could go, now that we chart our own paths,” he said. “I don’t know if you remember this, but we defeated a great evil and saved a kingdom.”
Will let out a huff of irritation. “Get to the point, Michael.”
“I’m sure you also remember that time we cosmically bound ourselves to each other–”
“I swear, I will send a fireball right up your–”
Mike laughed and snagged him around the middle, spinning him in a circle. His hands slid down Will’s back as he lowered him to his feet, settling warm in the dips of his waist. “There is nowhere I wish to go other than wherever you are,” he said, like another vow, and Will’s breath caught.
He said it so simply that it must be true.
They stared at each other in the silence that followed. Will’s heart raced, hammering wildly against his ribcage. He felt so much, so full of magic and passion and–desire. The fire crackled wickedly in response. Mike’s eyes drifted to it, then slowly moved back to him, dark and heavy-lidded.
“Yes,” he breathed. “It’s you, Will. I want you.”
He walked him backwards, hands molding to his hips. Will gasped when his back met the bedpost, and Mike took the breath of it right into his mouth, kissing him deeply, fingers crooked beneath his chin.
Will’s hands shook. He didn’t know where he wanted to put them most; on Mike’s chest to feel the thrum of his rapid-fire heartbeat, around his neck to greedily grasp at his beautiful hair, cupping his face to at last stroke his thumbs along the sharp cheekbones he’d admired for so long.
Mercifully, Mike made the decision for him. He pushed Will’s arms above his head, curling his fingers around one of the metal rings supporting the drapery around the bed. He went to his tiptoes, clinging to the ring for dear life as Mike kissed him nearly incoherent.
The room burst with a sudden heatwave as the hearth flared, and Mike let out a deep noise of satisfaction, chest rumbling against him. Will didn’t have the forethought to feel embarrassed that he’d clearly figured out how in tune the fire was with his emotions. He hardly had a moment to breathe, let alone speak. His knees shook, buckling at the intensity of it all, the overwhelming sensation of being thoroughly kissed, of being wanted.
Will would have fallen over if Mike hadn’t secured him to the ring.
When his lips were numb, when he could do nothing but whimper and clutch at the ring, Mike’s mouth moved down his neck, to his collarbone, fingers plucking at the threads of his undershirt. He glanced up as if to ask permission. His eyes seemed to soak up all the heat in the room. Will gave a jerky nod, burning with need.
Mike unlaced him, and Will’s hands dropped from the ring to pull the shirt over his head, letting it drop to the floor. Mike swallowed, eyes flitting over him as if he were a vision. He leaned in again, kissing him softly, his hand moving down Will’s body, fingers curling in the band of his leggings.
Will pushed into him, eager.
Mike jumped back as if he’d been struck, retracting his hand, leaving Will panting against the bedpost, his brows knitting in confusion.
“I’m sorry, Will,” Mike rushed out. “I don’t know what came over me. I’m meant to have better self control. You make me so–I can’t think around you. But our bond is deeper than just this. I shouldn’t take advantage of it.” He stepped back, shoulders slumping under the heavy cloak of guilt.
Will stared at him in bewilderment, his magic in turmoil. He had the briefest urge to slap Mike upside the head, but he pushed it down.
He was standing there wrecked, debauched, mouth swollen and chest heaving.
His paladin was an idiot.
Will latched onto his shirt, Mike’s eyes popping wide as he swung him around the side of the bed and shoved him down onto the mattress. He let out a surprised, yet delighted Oh as Will climbed over him, thighs on either side of his hips.
“Have you done this before?” Mike asked, brow creasing as Will quickly worked his shirt open, flinging it away before moving to his belt.
“Have I undressed a man before, or have I fucked a man before?”
He wanted to die at the words, having no idea where they came from, or how his cheeks weren’t aflame after saying them–but Mike’s entire face went dark in response, hips hitching beneath him. Will gasped, planting a hand on his chest for balance as a jolt of white-hot arousal shot through him.
His eyes were narrowed. “Have you?” he pressed, though he didn’t clarify which question he wanted an answer to.
Will had never even kissed a man until then, but he played coy, enjoying the jealousy scrawled all across his paladin’s face. “What do you think?”
Mike’s jaw worked in annoyance, easily riled when he felt someone had encroached on his territory. “I think… I’ll find him, and take care of it,” he said. Then, belatedly, he smirked and added, “After I’ve pleased you, of course.”
Will sat back on his lap, stunned. That was an absurd, and hilarious, and–and hot thing for him to say. The well of magic inside of him liked it immensely. It spread like wildfire through his veins, buzzing at his fingertips. He pressed them to Mike’s chest, and he jumped, mouth ticking up in amazement.
Then, he wrapped an arm around Will’s waist and rolled them. His back hit the mattress, legs falling apart as Mike settled between them. He was so handsome, thick lashes and a long, sharp nose, freckles like a dusting of constellations across his cheeks.
Mike’s hand slid low across his stomach, eliciting a shiver. Will’s thighs unconsciously squeezed around his hips. His lips quirked, charmed, and he said, “I would know if you’d been with anyone.”
“How?”
“Intuition.”
Will snorted. Mike was notoriously oblivious, so he very much doubted that. “I wasn’t aware our bond came with a virginity detector,” he said, rolling his eyes. It was a bit difficult to maintain nonchalance, Mike’s hands roving all over him, a calloused thumb purposefully brushing across a nipple.
Will arched off the bed at the sudden sensation, hips lifting.
“That’s how I know,” Mike murmured, quite proud of himself. “Your reactions.”
“Have you–” Will broke off, terrified of the answer. “Have you ever…?”
Mike’s mouth touched his. “Mm, no,” he murmured, “but I’ve thought of it.” The With you went unspoken, but Will blushed anyway.
“Oh,” he breathed. “When?”
Mike laughed. “When have I thought about it? All the time, Will. I’m thinking about it now, I was thinking about it yesterday, and you know–I’ll probably still be thinking about it tomorrow.”
Will resisted the urge to cover his burning face with his hands. “You sound so sure.”
Mike made a noncommittal noise from Will’s neck, lips pressed to his pulse point. “We’re bound as one. I think of little else but you.”
Will shoved him, unable to stand it a minute longer or he’d surely die. “Stop it. No more waxing poetic about me. Save those pretty words for your campfire stories.”
Mike leaned back, mouth twitching with a wicked grin as he gazed down at him. “How should I speak to you when I’m inside you, then?”
Ugh. Will grabbed him by the hair and pulled him in hard, the kiss clumsy and off-center.
Mike undressed them completely without breaking the kiss, Will’s teeth at his lower lip, a hot exchange of breath as Mike’s hand slid up the back of his bare thigh, pressing it to his chest and leaving him exposed.
Will was in too deep to feel embarrassed. Mike already knew everything about him. It was fitting he saw all of him, too.
He was lost to sensation from there. Mike’s long fingers were slick with oil, curling inside of him, stroking along his walls, pressing incessantly where he keened the most. His legs shook, and he clutched at the bedding, thighs clamping down on Mike’s hand. He tossed his head against the pillows, unable to hold back the string of soft, gasping moans Mike’s thrusting fingers brought forth.
Mike heaped him with praise, at his ear, against his neck, into his mouth as they kissed. It was messy, wet, and desperate. They were connected in every way two could be connected. Spiritually, physically. Oath-bound.
Mike’s whispered flattery was reminiscent of the far-gone day he’d attempted to teach him to wield a sword. Just two boys in an open field, fresh from irrevocably tying themselves together. He had said the gods were irrelevant, it was Will he believed in. Will in turn had nearly fainted from the implications, clumsily moving through the defensive parries Mike had shown him, praying he couldn’t tell how weak in the knees he’d gone.
Mike withdrew his fingers to sit back on his haunches, and Will made a plaintive noise, half-complaint, half-delirium. When he opened his eyes, Mike’s hair was mussed, the curls fluffy and wonky from Will tugging wildly on it.
He hadn’t complained once, though Will knew it must’ve hurt. He had the briefest epiphany that Mike might like that and had already taken several vicious beatings meant for him. This particular kind was probably much more pleasurable.
Will only had a moment to ponder that before Mike was laying over him again. His forehead dropped to Will’s and all he could see was the span of his long lashes, the arch of his nose, and the firelight dancing along the walls. His magic had quieted, not quite dormant, but relaxed, pliant, waiting patiently.
Mike kissed him softly, ardently, Will’s nails raking down his back, thighs trembling as he pushed inside of him, slowly, then all at once. He sighed deeply when it was done, something like relief coursing through him as he shuddered, toes curling at the strange but wonderful sensation.
Finally.
His magic, lazy as a cat just a moment before, burst to life. Will’s body sang with power. They could do anything when they were together, face anything. There was nothing too great or too frightening. Mike was right; the gods were irrelevant.
“Fuck,” Mike said, his eyes wide, caught just as off guard. “That’s–”
The closing of a circle. Consummation. Completion.
“Yes,” Will agreed in a trance-like whisper, bringing their lips together, unable to resist burying a hand in Mike’s unruly hair. “So don’t stop.”
Much, much later, Will draped his bare thigh across Mike’s waist, head propped on his hand as he gazed into the fire, tempered to embers, but still burning. Trailing fingers across his sleepy paladin’s chest, he asked, “Now what will we do with the rest of our time off?”
There was still the matter of the snowstorm, and how they’d be stuck here for days. Though, in light of recent events, Will was hardly going to complain.
Mike grunted beneath him, cracking a glittering eye open. His lips quirked, hand slipping low on Will’s hip to possessively grip the meat of it. He was entirely too pleased with himself; he’d probably start spouting poetry again soon.
Will wasn’t sure his heart could take it, especially when Mike darted up to kiss him and against his mouth said, “You’ve lost it if you think I’m letting you leave this bed,” before he rolled him onto his back once more.