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Taking a deep, slow breath, Killer smooths his hands over the silk of his pants before taking a step from his room.
Stepping through their common room, he practically skips into their sitting room. He’s pleased with himself, pleased with how he’s managed to set his day up and he needs to do one, very important task. Something that was long overdue and he should have done this weeks ago.
He should have seen this task completed already, but so much had happened; he nearly fell apart, had actually fallen down, and when he was out of the woods Epic had followed him down the same path. Epic had crumpled hard, had shattered and had needed all of them to keep him safe until Cross could pull him back together.
Epic had needed them, all of them, and they needed to keep him safe. Even now, Epic was stronger but still vulnerable, and they rallied around him, kept him from court while he recovered.
Epic still needed them, and this task had been pushed to the back burner. Or at least it had until now.
In the sitting room, Dream was in Epic’s lap, his face buried into the spymaster’s broad but cool chest, trying to hide from the light. He’s trying to sleep off his hangover, trying to hide from the sun with little success.
Epic is a cool comfort, like a full body compress that wrapped around Dream. It helped a little, with Dream’s face buried into the crook of his neck, his little hands curling helplessly into Epic’s shirt.
He looks miserable, and Killer isn’t surprised. Not with how much wine he had been drinking, and this had been the most sober they had all seen him in a few days. It had taken Cross and Epic to get all the wine from him, had to pry one bottle from his hands to get it off of him.
It had been worth it, Killer thought, even if Dream was suffering now.
Epic for his part, wasn’t worse for wear now; quietly reading a book with one arm wrapped loosely around Dream’s torso to hold him close, cuddling with the golden twin.
Cross was sitting on the floor with Dust and Nightmare, they were playing a card game that Cross was teaching them, some game he had learned in the military.
He looked happy, and he’s so handsome when he’s happy, and Killer wouldn’t mind seeing that expression on his face more often.
Pausing at that, Killer blinks at the happy little scene before him, surprised at that thought and how easily it bubbled up. The prince was handsome, anyone could see that and Killer wasn’t foolish enough to deny that.
What was new, was the affection that came with that thought. It was no different, no less surprising then the aroused thoughts when he remembered the prince’s impressive cock and his careful, kind hands.
Irritation flutters through him and Killer quickly squashes those feelings; he likes Cross, he can admit that the prince is handsome and kind and has gentle rough hands …
He squashes that feeling too, ignores how hot his cheeks feel and bravely stepped into the sitting room.
“I’m going to the garden.” He announces casually, and he catches Dust’s smug look.
Their little mate was the reason Killer was getting this opportunity, so Dust gets to be a smug brat this time.
Looking up at him, Cross smiles, bright and warm, a look he only gives them in the safety of their room, and Killer feels his heart flutter in his chest. He just looks so happy.
“Okay Killer. Have a nice time with Horror.” Cross tells him affectionately, means it and wants them to have a nice time together.
His face goes impossibly hot, and Dust’s smirk grows wider with amusement before he turns his gaze back to his cards. “Have a good time.” Dust tells him brightly, but there’s an edge to his voice, an amusement that made Killer roll his nonexistent eye lights.
“Have fun love.” Nightmare calls out to him, distracted by his hand and doesn’t see how hot Killer’s face had become.
Dream groans, but doesn’t lift his face from Epic’s throat, and stays hidden in his chest. Epic grins, his voice soft and just loud enough to carry. “Have fun.” He says without flourish, allowing Killer to make his escape.
The trip down to Horror’s garden was uneventful; it was a quiet walk, members of the court leaving him alone and even some of the guard that Killer knew were loyal to Cross, nodded to Killer.
He’s unbothered as he makes his way to the garden, and Killer is relieved to be left alone, and he follows the familiar path down to the garden. It’s a quiet, soothing walk that helps sooth Killer’s soul.
It helps center himself, helps get his mind in the right place, and helps him prepare for what he’s about to do.
The lower part of the castle is cool but not wet; the castle was dry and comfortable and the pathways to the garden were even pretty. The floor of the hall was polished and carved with flowers, until Killer gets to the garden door.
It’s just as pretty, carefully carved with flowers but heavy, and could be fortified in the case of an attack, but Killer doesn’t worry about that. Not with Cross at the helm and with the kings backing, even if Gaster terrified Killer.
No, he wasn’t worried about Gaster or for Cross, and for the first time in a long time, felt safe.
He’s stalling, he knows, and with a heavy sigh pushes those thoughts down and shoves his way through the heavy wooden door, and into Horror’s garden.
The soft but sweet smell of flowers fill his head, and the scent of flowers helps him relax, and the tenseness of his shoulders loosen.
The summer air is still hot, it’s humid on his bones but the sunlight feels good. It feels like freedom.
Pushing the heavy door behind him closed, Killer steps into the garden, following the carefully laid path deeper into Horror’s garden.
Looking around in awe, Killer is impressed with the amount of work he had put into his garden, how large it had become, how lush it was now. The flowers were huge and the leaves of the plans a deep green with life.
The trees were tall and strong, their mighty branches casting shadows over the hot earth, offering a cool place to hide for small mammals and birds.
Horror is tending to one of the flower beds, the flowers bright and lush, the colours unbelievable, and it’s so refreshing to see. After living the in dark, hot, damp quarters of the parlor, it was nice to see colours.
It was nicer to see Horror look so happy.
He’s smiling as he talks to his flowers, his large, rough fingers pet at the delicate petals, encouraging them to grow. Killer swears its Horror’s gentleness, his kindness that helped them grow, his tender encouragement was better for them then any fertilizer.
Despite it all, it was still Horror and somehow Tempo had failed to snuff out that kindness, that tenderness and seeing Horror so at ease gentled Killer’s heart.
The prince did this. That new, unhelpful, voice told him, and Killer sighs. Pushing that voice aside, Killer strode towards Horror, his mouth pulling up into a happy, wide grin. “Hey babe.” He called out cheerfully, drawing Horror’s gaze to him.
Killer watched the recognition flicker across Horror’s expression, watched him brighten up when he sees Killer, before straightening up to grin at him. Horror offers a happy wave as he comes up to him, and that wave turns into an invitation for a hug as Horror opens up his arms.
Delighted, Killer practically throws himself into Horror’s arms, wrapping his arms around his mates waist to hold him tightly.
Horror’s thick, powerful arms wrap around him, holding him close with the sweetest affection. Sighing, Killer’s sockets flutter shut as he sinks into Horror’s chest, his fingers aching as he clung to Horror.
Sighing as well, Horror holds him tightly, nuzzling the top of his head affectionately, pressing a kiss to the top of his head and Horror’s heavy purr picked up against the side of Killer’s skull. “How are you today sweets?” Horror asks, his voice clear and confident, holding Killer tightly.
Humming, Killer nuzzled into Horror’s chest like a large, affectionate cat, before he looked up with a smile at Horror. “Good.” He said, before finally biting the bullet and breaching the conversation. “I wanted to talk to you, in private.” He adds.
Horror’s brow drew together, his grin flicking into a brief frown before Horror nodded. “Alright love. Come here, Cross helped me set up a hammock, we can talk in the shade.”
Of course the prince did. The voice told him cheerfully, He cares a great deal about us. He would want us to be happy.
Shoving that thought away, firmly ignoring that voice, that intrusive thought, Killer nodded, letting go of Killer so they could go to the hammock. Horror’s large hands slide down his arms so he can take Killer’s hand; linking their fingers together, Horror guides Killer to another set of trees, a little deeper into the garden, a little more hidden.
It was a private, little secluded area, someplace where anyone wandering into the garden wouldn’t see them right away. It was in the shade between two trees, a cool area for them to relax in and avoid the head, and Horror drew Killer down into the hammock.
They sink into the netting side by side, they lay down, their legs tangled as they settled, and Horror pulled Killer atop of him, draping his arms around his tight waste affectionately. “What did you want to talk about love?” Horror asks him with infinite gentleness that makes the guilt Killer feels hard to swallow.
He manages. if only just. “I wanted to apologize.” He manages quietly, and he can feel Horror frown.
“I’ve already told you, “He said gently, “you don’t need to … apologize for what happened. It…It wasn’t your fault what…Cornelious did.”
“No, not that.” Killer says in a rush, pauses before he adds, “Well. I am. Neil was a piece of shit, and it was my responsibility to keep you all safe. Sorry is the least I should be.”
Horror sighs, and Killer doesn’t want to have his apology derailed, he really doesn’t want to re-hash his heavy guilt of having his entire world sold off into slavery and thrown into captivity.
They would never see eye to eye on that, Killer would always carry the guilt of what had happened. It was his responsibility to keep them safe, and he had failed.
They just were not talking about that again.
“Not that.” He said quickly, before his actual apology is fully derailed. “I’m sorry about your plant.”
There’s a long moment of hesitation, when Horror finally says slowly, “My…plant?” Killer nods against his chest, still not ready to face his lover.
There’s another long moment of hesitation when Horror adds, “You already said … you are sorry. You don’t need to … apologize again Killer.” It’s said gently and filled with regret, but Killer shrugs.
“It wasn’t a real apology.” He says, watching his fingers draw nonsensical shapes on Horror’s ribs. “I was practically dying and falling apart. It didn’t count.” They didn’t talk about the day he’d fallen down, and how Cross had dragged him out of his own mind to save him.
It was too painful for all of them, made them sad or mad or whatever, and Killer preferred it that way. He didn’t want to talk about it either, felt too stupid about the whole thing, and was rather happy to just forget it.
He couldn’t forget that he’d hurt the others though, and he needed to make it up to them.
“So.” he said. “I’m sorry.”
There’s another pause from Horror, and Killer can’t help the twist of unease that worms through him, and he wouldn’t blame Horror if he didn’t forgive him. Killer had been cruel, unnecessarily so, and he likely deserved to stew in his guilt a little bit.
Horror hugs him tightly, holding him close as he pressed his teeth to Killer’s head in a long, hard kiss. “I forgive you Killer.” He said clearly, meant every hard struggled word, and Killer feels his heart lift at those firm words.
He believed them, when Horror said them with conviction and he can’t contain the helpless look he gives Horror when Killer looks up at him.
Horror looks down at him with an equally gentle look that makes Killer feel warm inside, and he’d gentled. “I love you.” He whispered to Horror and delighted in watching his lover’s expression light up at the honest words.
“I love you too Killer.” Horror promised, the sweet sound of his voice, honeyed with affection.
Grinning up at Horror at his words, Killer feels the last of his tension leak from his body. He’s oddly soft and coy, his grin melting into something saucy and affectionate before he stretched up to slot his mouth against Horror’s.
Horror accepted him, his rough hands sliding up his back to hold him tightly before his large hands slide up to cup Killer’s skull. He sometimes forgets how large Horror is, how much bigger he was then Killer and nearly the size of the prince and the spymaster.
Still, he’d never felt threatened by Horror, if anything, Killer feels safer. Cared for, comforted.
He kissed Horror harder, slipping his tongue into Horror’s mouth, licking at Horror, his fingers curling into his chest.
Horror sighs into the kiss, his hands tender on Killer’s face, his tongue lapping at Killer’s before he pressed his tongue into Killer’s mouth. Grinning when Horror does, Killer sucks on his lover’s tongue, before giving it a playful nip.
He feels Horror smile against his mouth, his rough, steady purr suddenly picking up, kissing Killer back with just as much devotion and passion.
Killer’s hand slides up Horror’s shirt to grip at one of his lower ribs, gripping at it tightly, giving it a playful pump. Horror’s breath hitches, his large hand gently covering Killer’s through his shirt, giving Killer a moment of pause.
Breaking their kiss, Horror sighs, laying his forehead to Killer’s and his face crumples into something miserable. “Sorry Killer.” Horror murmured softly, voice dripping in regret. “I can’t.” he whispered. “My ecto. I can’t summon.”
Horror had come so far, yet so much damage had been done that even now, years later, it affected him.
Frowning, Killer’s hand flexed over Horror’s rib bone, and he squeezed the lower rib again, sending a shiver of pleasure through Horror. A small, pleased noise squeezed passed his teeth, and Horror’s sockets fall to half mast.
Killer smiles.
“Its fine H.” Killer whispers, his hand pumping over Horror’s rib again, his grip firm and steady as he moved his hand back and forth over the rib. “I love you, and we can find a way to make you feel good. You deserve that too.”
Horror’s hands fall to Killer’s shoulders, squeezing tightly, pulling Killer in close as his hand glided over his scarred bones. Killer watches with sheer glee as Horror’s expression scrunched up in pleasure, the way his breathing picked up, and his large body squirmed under Killer’s touch.
Biting at his tongue, Horror tried to stay quiet as Killer’s clever fingers working over his rib, the scarred bone hard and strong under his fingers, and Killer purrs. “You’re so strong H. So big and powerful, you’re always so good at keeping us safe.”
Horror trembles under him, squirming at Killer’s firm touch, and Killer doesn’t let up. It wasn’t fair what had been taken from him, and Killer would do whatever it took to do something nice for him. Something that was for him, that would make him feel good.
His hand keeps moving over his rib, and Killer stretches out to press his mouth to Horror’s in another kiss, slipping his tongue past Horror’s teeth to taste him.
Horror shudders under him, his body trembling in orgasm, his soul suddenly bright under his shirt as its magic gently pop with the pressure, leaving a sticky, silvery mess dripping down to Horror’s spine.
His soul dims immediately, his magic still so weak, so fragile, but Killer had done it, had brought this pleasure to him, and Killer can’t help the smug satisfaction that makes his soul feel full. Propping his chin on his fist, Killer delights in watching Horror’s dim eye lights and the way he panted on the hammock.
It sways a little with their actions, soothing and comforting, and Killer grins. “Like that?” he asked, sounding pleased with himself.
Still panting, Horror’s eye lights locked onto him, eye light dim and hazy before it sharpened to something that looked like want. “Just give me … a minute.” He pants, his gaze burning on Killer’s delighted expression.
He hums nonchalantly, his hand sliding out from under his shirt to lay over Horror’s sternum, his thumb rubbing comforting circles into Horror’s chest. “Yer still a brat.” Horror accuses, and that makes Killer smile wider.
Laughter bubbles out of him when Horror eases his big body out from under him and off the hammock, pushing himself up. He arranges Killer so that he lounges in the hammock; Killer allows himself to be man handled as he’s laid back into the netting, his legs dangling over the soft edge.
“You don’t have to.” Killer tells him gently as Horror lowers himself to his knees, pushing Killer’s thighs open.
“I know.” He agrees, reaching for the pins of Killer’s silky pants, undoing the wrapping to open them, exposing Killer’s body to the hot air.
It’s so warm, so humid that the air offered to relief to the heat, but Horror’s large hands are a pleasant heat on his thighs as he massaged the false muscle. “I want to.” Horror’s voice is a rough whisper as he pressed his teeth to a kiss to Killer’s inner knee.
“You’re still so pretty.” Horror told him, pressing another kiss up Killer’s thigh, but his gentle, earnest words send heat flushing to Killer’s cheeks.
“I missed you, all these months.” Horror rumbled, still kissing his way up Killer’s thigh slowly, his teeth hardly a press to Killer’s flesh. “You scared me. Thought we lost you.”
Killer trembled, his grief quickly smothered when Horror’s teeth press tenderly to the side of Killer’s cock; his large hand cupping Killer’s balls, gently massaging them. “Love you.” He whispered again before his long, thick tongue licked a long, wet strip up the underside of Killer’s length.
“Ah~” Killer makes a noise as the air against his cock cooled as Horror licked at him, his lovers tongue swirling around the head of his length.
His legs falling further open, Killer starts to pant, his sharp fingers knotting into the ropes of the hammock.
Looking up from under his brow, Horror looks delighted, filled with glee as Killer trembles under him and he pressed his tongue into the slit of Killer’s cock. Gasping, Killer’s body jumps, his hips trying to rock into Horror’s mouth.
Letting go of Killer’s thigh and balls, Horror’s rough hands reach to his hips to hold him steady before he dipped his head down. Swallowing Killer down in one dip of his head, he sheaths Killer’s length deeply into his throat, his nose pressing into Killer’s belly.
His throat had been exquisitely trained, his gag reflex beaten out of him painfully, and Horror’s mouth and throat had become the only thing Tempo had any use of.
Killer hates that awful, brutal thought, that this was Tempo’s doing, that everything about them had been tainted by his vile touch. That even this, a moment of peaceful pleasure was ruined by him.
He was always on the peripheral of their lives, always a reminder of what had been done to them and what they had lost.
He viciously shoves that thought away and focuses on Horror.
He was doing this for Killer, doing this to make Killer feel good and he would enjoy it. It didn’t matter where any of them had learned what they had, what mattered was using those new skills for each other.
And for the prince and the spymaster. That happy voice added, and Killer rolls his eye lights at that stupid little voice.
Horror pulled off of Killer in a long, slow motion, sucking hard all the way up to the head again; his tongue swirled and played at the sensitive tip before he swallowed Killer down again. His thighs tremble, and Horror’s throat flutters around his cock as he swallows him down.
Killer’s length lodged into Horror’s throat as he worked around it, moaning in his own delight as he swallowed Killer down.
His head bobs at a slow, luxurious pace, slowly, painfully slow, edging Killer closer and closer to completion. If he had been with Dust, his little lover would have stopped by now, clamping his hand tightly around his throbbing cock. Dust would have teased and taunted, getting Killer painfully close before drawing off and not letting him come to completion before starting all over again.
Horror wasn’t like Dust, and he liked to see his lovers pleasure, liked to see Killer come undone.
His ministrations continue, steady and ever going, gentling Killer closer and closer to completion, until he’s tumbling over the side of that canyon; he comes apart at the seams with a strangled noise, painting in the insides of Horror’s throat with thick, ropey magic.
Drinking him down, Horror’s throat works around his length, before coming off Killer’s dick with an obscene pop, leaving Killer shaking in the aftermath, the warm air caressing his cock.
Horror looks inordinately pleased. “Was that…okay?”
Killer laughs, sounding out of breath and shaky, but he nods. “Yeah.” He gasped, “That was perfect H.”
Grinning, delighted and proud of himself, Horror slowly stood, crawling back into the hammock, nudging and moving Killer back into a comfortable position as they settled. They coiled around each other, clung to each other, Killer’s naked, wet body still exposed as he pressed himself into Horror.
He was safe and happy, and with a deep, tired sigh, Killer lay his head to Horror’s chest, his sockets fluttering shut. “I love you too.” Killer tells him sleepily, snuggling into Horror happily, already drifting off.
Holding him tightly, Horror snuggles him, and as far as apologizes went, Killer’s was pretty good.
Holding each other very tightly, Horror drifts off after Killer, happy and sated, safe, Horror rests, knowing they were well protected under the prince’s defensive wing.
Happily, Horror drifts into sleep with Killer in his arms, knowing that that things would only get better.
They had to, and that much, Horror believes.
~Fin