by Megan Derr
Jayden had always teased him for his taste in older men, and Jordan had always harassed Jayden for being such a hopeless flirt with all the tourists. Jordan had always found his brother's ways exhausting. He would much rather stay home or hang with a few friends, a quiet, older—steadier—lover at his side. Unfortunately, his few attempts had not been interested in sticking around with a young hippie witch who had nothing to offer except a rickety house and an even more rickety shed full of herbs. And, well, less tangible things that apparently didn't matter.
Was his luck changing? He was up to his ears in hippie witch behavior, but the guy was still standing up and walking over to him …
"Good evening," the man said, the barest touch of southern drawl to his voice. "I've observed you working the past couple of nights and curiosity finally compelled me to come introduce myself." He extended his right hand, and the scent of jasmine grew stronger; Jordan could just feel a hint of magic coming from his ring, heavy gold set with a fire opal. "Shayne Radcliff, at your service."
Jordan shook his hand, which was warm and calloused, then gestured for him to sit. "Jordan Ackerman. Um. Was there something I can do for you?"
Shayne's mouth tipped up at one corner, eyes crinkling as though he wanted to laugh or say something but was holding back. "You are a hedge witch, correct?"
"Yes," Jordan said. "I'm a field witch with Cumberly & Pass, though I do some freelance work as well." He gestured to the mess he'd made across the table.
"Ah," Shayne said. "An impressive firm, that. You must be a strong asset, to judge by what little I have seen of your work."
Jordan shrugged. "I'm still pretty new." Pretty new and treated more like something to be endured rather than a new addition meant to help the firm branch out into all new markets. He and the other three hedge witches they'd hired spent all their time travelling, making house calls to the firm's hundreds of clients, all of whom wanted complicated, draining talismans. Jordan couldn't remember the last time he'd been home for more than a couple of days at a time, and all of that time was spent preparing for the next trip: writing up reports, organizing his next set of assignments, running errands, doing laundry, putting a good face on it for his brother and trying not to cry from exhaustion and frustration in his shed.
But he was seven months into his nine month trial period, and hopefully after that everything would get better. People would talk to him more, want to get to know him. He could maybe stay in the office long enough between assignments to go out to lunch, attend company events—something, anything more than surfacing just long enough to catch his breath before diving down again.
The experience and money made it more than worthwhile, it did. His clients demanded a wide range of spells, for everything from easing aches to wanting to keep seagulls away to blocking obnoxious spells. It had broadened his abilities, his creativity, and he and Jayden no longer had to worry about paying the bills. They'd splurged on a new couch first, and once they had time again they were picking out a new fridge. He had Jayden's birthday present tucked away in his room and for once, wasn't struggling to figure out how he'd replenish all his personal stock.
Eventually all the rough spots would smooth out. He just had to be patient. "Are you a witch, as well?" he asked.
"Mm," Shayne said. "Freelance work. I'm mostly a tinctures and tonics kind of guy, never had the hands or patience for your work." He nodded at the partially finished necklace.
Jordan shrugged. "My dad taught me, and as I got older I got more and more into it." He picked up his mint tea—horrible, diner teabag mint, but better than the other options—and sipped at it, annoyed he'd let it grow cold. "Are you here on a job?"
"Mm," Shayne said again. "I was delivering a set of tonics to an old customer of mine. She—" he broke off as a soft melody began to play from his vest pocket. Sighing, Shayne pulled out his cell phone. "A pity, but it looks as though I will have to cut this conversation short. It was a pleasure to meet you. Have a good night." He smiled and lightly touched the back of Jordan's hand before slipping away to answer his phone.
It was all kinds of stupid to feel disappointed—they'd been talking all of ten, maybe fifteen minutes. Jordan talked to random people all the time and never cared when they left. Still … Jordan watched him walk away, handsome and classy and leaving behind the scent of jasmine, and daydreamed a bit about what it might have been like if Shayne had wanted to flirt with him, go back to his room … and be so enchanted he asked for Jordan's number …
And it was never going to happen, so he firmly set the daydream aside and got back to work. If he was lucky, he'd be in bed by two AM and be able to grab a bit of sleep before he had to be at the airport by seven. Then he'd be home again and maybe, just maybe, he could crank out all his work on Friday and have Saturday and Sunday to himself.
It was a little after one when he finally packed up his belongings and trudged across the parking lot to his dingy motel room. Bitter frustration flared briefly because he knew the elemental witches always got decent-level hotel rooms and driver services instead of musty motels and crappy rental cars. He was still in a trial period, however. Of course they wouldn't waste money on trial employees. It would all improve in two months.
Shucking his clothes, he grabbed his toiletry bag and liberally abused the only luxury his room had: a practically unlimited supply of near-boiling water. After the fridge, he was saving up to buy a new water heater. He was so tired of barely-hot water and wondering if each day would be the one where the water heater finally died. He should have bought that first, but dang it, there was nothing like collapsing on that new couch when he got home.
When he was done showering, calmed by the smell of mint and cilantro still on the air, Jordan slipped on a soft, faded pair of blue, yellow, and pink sleep pants and sat on the edge of the bed to finish toweling his hair dry. It drove him crazy he had to keep it professionally cut when he ached to start working on new dreads, but he just had to remind himself that the job was worth it. His brother smiled more than ever, between his boyfriend and not having to worry about money, and that made everything worth it.
Tired, but too twitchy to sleep, Jordan went to his satchel and fetched his cigarette case and lighter. Taking both outside, he settled on the ledge in front of the window and lit it, admiring what little he could see of the stars as he smoked, shivering in the cool air.
Lavender, mint, and green pixie roses filled his mouth and lungs, sweet, cool, and extremely potent. Green pixie roses were not something he used lightly or frequently. He only had two clients he felt comfortable giving them to, and only a bare handful of people knew he had them at all.
His blood warmed and thrummed as the cigarette took effect, smoothing his frayed edges and putting the world at a pleasantly fuzzy, muffled distance, like dozing in a hammock on a hot day with no one around for miles. For a little while, at least, it was easy to pretend his world was all he wanted it to be and not increasingly a mess he did not know how to clean without coming out the worse for it.
The sound of a door opening briefly drew his attention and he turned his head—and froze, torn between excitement and mortification. His heart started pounding in his chest, blood buzzing sharper and hotter than ever when Shayne saw him and, after a pause of surprise, walked toward him. He had been devastatingly attractive in the diner. Right there, in just shirtsleeves with those pretty curls no longer reined in and a smudge of something on his cheek, Jordan wanted to push him to the walkway and do obscene things.
Instead, he lifted his cigarette to his mouth and took a long pull, let it soothe him and hopefully project an air of calm he definitely didn't feel as Shayne finally reached him. Oh, god, please let him not come off as a total hippie flake or something. Also let Shayne be completely chill with the fact that Jordan was enjoying a substance that was not strictly legal. "Hello again."
"Hello," Shayne said softly, eyes dipping as he took in the pajama pants, the herbs and flowers tattooed across Jordan's torso, the
small silver hoops in his nipples, and the simple hemp necklace with a single teardrop charm resting in the hollow of his collarbone. It was a quick look, appreciative without being leering, so much smoother than the sad attempts made by countless tourists and his brother's beach head buddies. It did nothing to calm Jordan's heart rate. "Is that green pixie rose?"
Jordan nodded, relief flooding him that Shayne's tone was definitely not disapproval. "Y-yeah. Want one?" He nodded to the case on the ledge beside him. "H-help yourself." He took another pull on his own.
Shayne smiled in a slow, hot way that made Jordan feel like he was ice cream left out in the sun. He moved in slightly closer and reached out to pin the cigarette in Jordan's mouth between two fingers, drawing it to his own mouth and taking a pull with the smooth ease only familiarity could bring. It was another move his brother's gaggle of idiots used on him all the time. Mostly it made him roll his eyes and either get on with the fooling around if he was in the mood, or slip away to get drunk and buzzed in peace.
When Shayne did it, Jordan wanted to lean in and lick traces of pixie rose from his lips, see if he tasted like jasmine, if that mouth was as wicked as it looked. Shayne's eyes dilated as the pixie rose hit his system. He took another drag, blew the smoke out lazily, then leaned in and dragged his mouth slowly across Jordan's.
Mm, yes. Jordan didn't know how he'd gotten so lucky, but no way was he giving up the best thing to happen to him in forever. He reached up and gently slid his fingers into those curls, holding Shayne in place as he turned the soft inquiry into a real kiss, tasting mint and lavender, pixie rose, and sweet, fragrant jasmine. He shivered as Shayne kissed harder, lips soft and warm, tongue bold as he wasted no time acquainting himself with every corner and crevice of Jordan's mouth.
Shayne shifted and then Jordan was being pulled up, hot, calloused hands smoothing along his sides and back, tugging him close to rub against silk and tweed, a thigh pushing between his. Jordan shivered, moaned, wrapped his arms around Shayne's neck, and held fast.
They were both panting when they finally drew apart. Shayne nuzzled his cheek, the gesture sweet and hot all at once. "Your room or mine?"
"Mine is two steps, yours is … a lot more than two," Jordan replied, flushing when Shayne laughed, but smiling with him. He pulled away and gathered up his things. Together they finished off his cigarette, exchanging more of those hot, wet, hungry kisses before finally finishing and stumbling into his room.
So easy, from there, to strip and fall into bed, tumble and rub and touch, the night a blur of pixie rose and passion. He felt teeth at his throat, his ear, a hot mouth tasting every inch of his colorful tattoos, tugging at the nipple rings like they were Shayne's new favorite toy. Expert fingers spreading him open wide, biting into his hips as Shayne guided Jordan onto his cock. He felt hot and full and better than he had in months, drunk on the way Shayne stared as Jordan braced his hands on Shayne's chest and fucked himself on Shayne's cock. He would never forget the way Shayne's breath hitched right before he came, the way his hazel eyes looked greener in passion, the way he held Jordan close when they were done.
The parting blowjob at six in the morning wasn't bad either, and the only thing better was the phone number and realization that they lived in the same city. Heated memories and the promise of a date kept him sustained all the way through the tedious trip home.
*~*~*
"So you've been more cheerful than usual."
Jordan yelped and jumped, slamming his phone down before whipping around to clobber his brother. "Don't sneak up on me!"
"It's not my fault you're too busy sending dirty texts to notice I've called your name three …" Jayden broke off, jaw dropping. "Oh, my god. Look at your face. It's like apple red. You were actually sending a dirty text!"
Jordan turned to grab his phone, but Jayden got there first, snatching it up and bolting out of the kitchen. "Give that back!" Jordan bellowed and went after him, managing to tackle him as they reached the living room, rolling and tussling until they knocked into the coffee table. "Give. It. Back. You jerk." He snatched his phone back.
"I cannot believe you know how to talk dirty. Oh, my god, did you actually say you want to bend—"
Jordan clapped a hand over his mouth. "Finish that sentence and I swear to god I will booby trap your food for a month straight. Stop reading my private texts!" He snatched his hand away when Jayden licked it. "That's gross, knock it off!" He cuffed Jayden upside the head and made certain to jab and poke and hit as he climbed off and stood up. "You're such an ass. Where is your boyfriend to keep you out of my hair?"
"He's coming down later tonight. We're going to play home repair this weekend. He's going to teach me how to use power tools." Jayden wiggled his eyebrows and leered.
"Ugh, spare me your lame attempts at jokes," Jordan replied, shoving his phone into the pocket of his green and orange board shorts. "Are we headed to the beach or not? I'm not wasting the first free weekend I've had in forever."
Jayden folded his arms across his chest. "Oh, no. You've been all happy-weird the past two weeks, and I just caught you sending dirty texts. I want to know who the new beau—"
"Beau? Seriously?"
"Snarking will not distract me," Jayden replied, poking him hard in the chest. "Confess all or you will be made to regret it." He poked Jordan again when he didn't immediately reply, confusion and a touch of hurt falling across his face. "Seriously. Since when don't you tell me about your boyfriends?"
Jordan huffed and gave him a quick hug. "It's not like that. I haven't really seen him much, just a lunch and a dinner since we met while I was in Ohio a couple of weeks ago. I told him about the beach party, though, and he said he would try to come. He lives on the other side of the city—how crazy is that? I was going to tell you about him when you got home, only you decided to be a nosy jerk and steal my phone instead. How many times do I have to tell you to stop doing that, idiot?"
"Obviously telling me never works," Jayden replied with an unrepentant grin. "I think I should be aware when someone is making such smooth moves on my quiet, hermit baby brother that he learns how to sext."
"Please stop talking," Jordan said with a groan, face burning all over again. "I hate you. I hate you more than everything."
"Awww," Jayden said and clapped his shoulder. "So what's his name?"
Jordan smiled, unable to help himself. "Shayne. He's a hedge witch, too. Does mostly tinctures, potions, and such."
"Do you call him 'daddy'?"
"Shut up!" Jordan said, wishing his face would stop turning red for ten seconds. He punched Jayden lightly in the gut. "Just because you like your men just this side of jailbait—"
"Lee is my age! At least I don't get off on being the jailbait."
"I hate you and I hope you get eaten by a shark," Jordan said, giving him a shove. "Now if you will excuse me, I am going to the beach. You are welcome to stay here and be insufferable." Stomping off, he snatched up his keys and strode out of the house.
Jayden caught up to him a few minutes later, the sound of his flipflops snapping furiously all the warning Jordan had before an arm was slung across his shoulders. "Seriously, all razzing aside, I can't wait to meet him. It's been a long time since you've bothered to notice anyone."
"You mean since anyone has noticed me," Jordan groused, shrugging off the arm. "Anyway, he's really cool so you'd better not pull anything. I mean it!"
"I won't, I won't," Jayden said, lifting his hands. "People hit on you all the time. You're just too busy working yourself to death to notice. This guy must be, like, crazy hot."
Jordan's mind flitted back to the motel where they'd met, that slow, inquisitive slide of Shayne's mouth, the buzz of pixie roses … The memory of their first date was even better, especially walking through the park after dinner, coming across the secluded gazebo where Shayne had fucked him so hard Jordan could barely remembered how to breathe.
He really could not wait to see if the weekend lived up to every filthy th
ing they'd been promising each other via text all day. Mostly, though, he really really hoped Jayden liked Shayne. If there was one thing they'd both learned over the years, it was that if they hated each other's dates, the relationship was doomed. No one came between them, not after all they'd been through.
"Oh, stop looking so nervous," Jayden said, giving him a quick, loose hug. "This is the happiest I've seen you in months—literally. That job has been sucking the soul out of you. Even your hair has suffered for it."
"Stop it, okay?" Jordan said. "The job is hard, but it's fine. If not for it I probably never would have met Shayne." They crossed the street and walked another couple of blocks to the beach. "So is this party just your usual assortment of beach bums?"
"Mostly, yeah. I hear there's a handful of new ones, some freshmen. Should be fun. What smokes you bring, addict?"
"New combination I read about on the forum and wanted to try: lemon grass, honey, faerie grass, and a little bit of blue pixie rose soaked in ogre potion."
Jayden whistled. "That'll be a kick. I don't know why you don't sell all the shit you smoke. It would make you a fortune."
"It would be kind of like selling moonshine, doofus. The law would not be very amused with me."
"Yeah, cause that stops any of you." Jayden slapped him on the back.
"Oof." Jordan shoved him away. "I will tie rocks to your—" he broke off as he spotted a familiar mop of strawberry blond curls by the ice cream stand. "Oh, my god," he said faintly.
Jayden drew to a halt next to him, following his gaze. "Wow. Who is that?"
"Shayne," Jordan managed, smiling shyly and waving when Shayne spotted him and came over carrying a bright green popsicle. He looked ridiculously edible dressed for the beach in black board shorts and a white shirt so thin it was pretty much see-through. He held out a hand as he drew close and Jordan took it, happy to be reeled in for a quick kiss. "Hi."
