by Megan Derr
Midnight frowned, then sat up sharply and shoved Devlin off the settee.
"What in the bloody hell!" Devlin snarled, sitting up and gripping the edge of the settee.
Shifting to his knees, Midnight leaned forward, over the edge of the settee, nearly putting them nose to nose. "You are a bastard, that's what. Of course I obsess—I can't help it. You are the reason I turned into a draugr! I cannot help but obsess, just as you cannot help being obnoxious and stubborn and just plain dense! You think I don't love you because I obsess over you? To bloody hell with you then!"
Furious, he threw himself off the settee and stalked to the door, escaping to the hallway and bolting for the stairs. Halfway up them, however, he was roughly grabbed and shoved into the wall. Devlin loomed over him, pinning him in place more by the power of his stare than his physical strength, which Midnight could easily overcome.
"What am I supposed to think then, Midnight?"
Midnight wanted to stay angry, and he mostly still was, but he knew Devlin as well as himself, perhaps better. Stupid, honorable, soft-hearted Devlin, who would of course distance himself if he thought Midnight's affection was only a symptom of his draugr obsession.
"If you were thinking," he said sharply, "this would not be an issue. If you were thinking, you would realize I am not the only one obsessed with you. Or I was not. I am now."
Devlin's brow furrowed in confusion.
"Winsted," Midnight said with exaggerated patience. "Winsted was just as obsessed with you as I. The only difference was the reason for the obsession. He obsessed because he hated you." Midnight paused. "I obsess because I love you. Stubborn fool that you are, you always got it backwards. I am not in love with you because I'm obsessed with you—I'm obsessed because I love you. Though, honestly, I should probably reconsider—"
He was cut off by a hard kiss, Devlin's warm hands cupping and cradling his head, the gentle touch at complete odds with the rough embrace. Midnight succumbed to all of it eagerly and happily, reaching up to hold fast to Devlin's shoulders, then sliding them around his neck as the kiss only grew deeper, hungrier.
They were panting when they finally broke apart, and he was coming to love the way those eyes looked after such kisses. He wondered how they would look after they finally did so much more.
"Heartbeat…"
Devlin made a noise that might have almost been a growl, if he had not known very well Devlin would never make such unseemly noises.
Still, he did like the way Devlin seemed fond of his lips, biting and nibbling and sucking until they positively throbbed from the welcome abuse.
"Are we going to spend the whole night arguing?" Midnight asked softly.
Devlin made an indistinct noise, then pushed away and hauled Midnight with him the rest of the way up the stairs. "Whatever we do the rest of the night, it will not be on these stairs. I did not survive that bloody sorcerer to be done in by my own house."
Midnight laughed, but distractedly, his mind focused solely on the fact that all his dreams were about to become reality. He was excited and nervous and thrilled and terrified—except, there was no real reason to be anything but ecstatic because this was Devlin, who was finally seeing reason.
At the top of the stairs, Devlin paused. Midnight feared for a moment that Devlin would send him to his own room, but Devlin's hand tightened around his own, and they made their way to Devlin's chambers.
The master chambers were marked by an impressive set of heavy double doors made of dark wood and carved with the Winterbourne snowflakes. Devlin pushed one of the doors open and led him inside. He had been in Devlin's chambers any number of times, joining him in the sitting room to read or play cards or chess. When he was much younger, he'd shared Devlin's bed on those days when the weather was wretched or he simply needed to be surrounded by the comforting presence of his Heartbeat while he slept.
The rooms were warm and masculine, with leather, linen, silk, and precious little ornamentation. They smelled like Devlin, mingling with the leather and brandy and the crackling fireplace. Even here, in the sitting room, books prevailed. Devlin did not keep his most valuable books downstairs, but here in his private sanctuary. They lined two of the four walls, leaving the rest of the space for a couch and chairs and a small writing desk.
Midnight started to speak, but he was drawn into another kiss before he quite worked out what he wanted to say, and oh this kiss put all the others to shame. The others had been hot, and felt—but this one burned straight through him, not least of all for the slow thoroughness of it.
He had not even realized they were moving until the backs of his legs struck something, and he tumbled back upon the bed with a startled oomph.
And, oh, Devlin had never looked at him that way before. Midnight had always been the one to push, the one to tease, the one to make his feelings plain. Devlin had always resisted, had always kept whatever he felt hidden, minus the occasional flash of something in his eyes.
There was no resistance now, and it was far more than a flash. Midnight could not stop staring. "Heartbeat—"
"If you do not quit looking at me like that, I will not even manage to remove our clothes," Devlin said, fingers moving to discard his neck cloth and toss it away, sending jewels flying who knew where. He stripped off his jacket and cast it aside with the same carelessness before stepping close to the bed.
He captured Midnight's legs at the knees, slowly smoothing his hands up, touch hot even through the fabric of Midnight's breeches. Up and up his hands climbed, thumbs moving along the inside of Midnight's thighs, teasing along growing heat until he reached the barriers of his jacket and shirt, and all the while those blue eyes smoldered.
Midnight tried to speak again but gave it up for a lost art when nothing came out and settled simply for enjoying that for which he had waited so long. He went easily when Devlin pulled him into a sitting position to strip off his clothing, unable to resist tasting a gleam of sweat on Devlin's throat. Bold, so very bold, but he was finally allowed, right?
If the noise Devlin made then was any indication, he was definitely allowed. Fingers sank into his hair, tugging him back just enough so Devlin could turn and take a kiss. Midnight clung, and it was so strange to feel nothing more than thin lawn between them now. If he had thought Devlin hot to the touch before…
Then cool air washed over him, making him shiver, but the fingers that immediately followed drew out their own shivers and a soft moan. "Heartbeat," Midnight managed to say, feeling drugged as he stared into the blue eyes that were so very, very close.
Devlin gave a moan of his own, pushing Midnight back upon the bed and climbing up after him. Midnight felt the slightest flutter of anxiety, but then the kissing and the touching were back. A moment later Devlin cast his own shirt away, and wasn't that the prettiest of sights. His Heartbeat was many things, but idle and soft were not among them.
Midnight ran a hand along Devlin's chest in wonder, not entirely convinced this was actually happening, that he was allowed. "I really should lock you in basements more often, Heartbeat."
"If you try it, you will regret it," Devlin retorted, then pulled Midnight's hand away and bent to put his mouth to Midnight's chest, fastening around one nipple.
Midnight gasped and jerked and clung to Devlin for balance even as the torment continued across his chest then, slowly, up to his throat, where Devlin bit sharply before soothing the mark with his tongue. "This is why I was angry," Devlin murmured. "I might have thought it unfair to take advantage, but I did not like the idea of someone else doing such things to you—of seeing you this way."
"Well, next time don't take forever to make a bloody decision," Midnight replied. "You—" The word collapsed into a groan as Devlin's hand wrapped around him and that was completely different from his own hand. Midnight shivered and shook, not at all soothed by the fact Devlin chose that moment to nibble at his ear, and it was all so much and nothing at all like he had imagined so many times in his own empty room.
> Devlin continued to touch and stroke and bite and kiss and tease, and Midnight came with a startled cry in Devlin's hand. If he could not breathe for a moment, well, it was the first time such a circumstance did not leave him terrified.
"Mm," Devlin murmured, blue eyes still burning hot and bright. "A very fine start." He took hold of Midnight's breeches and pulled them off entirely, cleaning his own hand with them before casting them aside and rejoining Midnight upon the bed.
Midnight's eyes were drawn to Devlin's cock, hard and wet, and to think he was the reason it was so. Embarrassment washed over him, but it stood no chance against years of wanting and waiting. He reached out to hesitantly touch.
Devlin grunted, and closed his eyes, then slowly removed Midnight's hand. "Don't do that. I have plans, and you are disrupting them."
The tone was so hopelessly Devlin and bossy, Midnight could only roll his eyes and obey. He lay back upon the bed, shoving his dratted hair from his face, and looked up at Devlin. "So what are your plans?"
"The better question, my dear," Devlin said, moving atop him, pressing so much of their skin together that Midnight half-thought he might catch on fire, "is where am I going to begin?"
Midnight shivered and met the kiss Devlin gave him, giving back full measure, eager to see where the plans began.
He was not remotely pleased they seemed to begin with Devlin moving away again, but was somewhat mollified when he realized it was only so Devlin could fetch something from the table beside the bed. Midnight swallowed as he realized what the little jar must contained.
Dropping it on the bedding, Devlin returned to him and once more skimmed his hands along Midnight's body, his touch almost hot against Midnight's warm, but always cooler, skin.
He kissed Midnight lazily, then dragged his mouth along Midnight's throat. Despite his recent release, Midnight's cock twitched and stirred.
Devlin chuckled as his fingers teased over it. "Ah, to have the abilities of youth again."
"You're not old."
"More old than I am young," Devlin said, and gave him a biting kiss before trailing his mouth down, down, down, dragging lips and tongue along Midnight's slowly hardening cock—and then lower still, causing Midnight to squeak.
That earned him another chuckle before Devlin resumed his task, licking and teasing at places that never would have occurred to Midnight, but which he was rapidly growing fond of.
Withdrawing, briefly fisting his own cock and closing his eyes, looking momentarily strained, Devlin then reached for the jar and coated his fingers with the slick, rose-scented contents.
His eyes were blue flames as he stared at Midnight. Before he could ask the inevitable, oh so very Devlin questions, Midnight said, "Don't you think you've dithered and avoided enough, Heartbeat?"
"You are a spoiled brat, and I have no idea how I let you become so," Devlin said with a sigh.
But it got Midnight what he wanted. His breath hitched as those fingers gently pressed and teased, and happily spread his own legs as Devlin pushed one finger gently inside. He moaned as that finger found the very spot it had been seeking. "Devlin—"
Hot satisfaction and a fierce possessiveness overtook Devlin's face. "Yes, that is precisely the look I intend to share with no one else. You're mine, Midnight. Understand?"
"Of course I do. You're the one who took forever admitting it."
Devlin kissed him and pushed in a second finger, chuckling as Midnight shivered and groaned. It was too much and not enough, all he wanted and yet left him wanting, desperately needing, more.
Midnight whined and clung tightly. "Why are you going so slow?"
Chuckling, breaths warm against Midnight's skin as he feathered more kisses across his face, Devlin said, "You think this is slow?" He chuckled again, a husky, mischievous note to it Midnight had never heard before but liked immensely. Shivers ran through his body. "This is far from slow, dark angel. When I move slowly, believe me, you'll be achingly aware of it."
He cut off Midnight's reply with a kiss and a sharp twist of his fingers, swallowing the startled cry that extracted. Pulling away, he dragged his teeth along Midnight's jaw then worked warm, wet kisses down his throat to rest where his pulse beat, sucking up a mark that reduced Midnight to moaning and shaking and begging in soft, broken gasps.
Withdrawing his fingers, Devlin shifted to better settle between Midnight's spread thighs and lined up his cock. Kissing Midnight softly, he murmured, "Relax and breathe, sweet."
Easier said than done, but Midnight bit back the snippy comment and focused on Devlin's warm mouth, on the stretch and burn, on the fact this dizzying, dreamlike moment was real. He was in Devlin's bed as a lover, as an equal, not a child.
They both lay panting as Devlin finally filled him.
Midnight eased his grip, wincing at the bloody marks he could see he'd left. "Sorry."
Devlin laughed and shifted to capture his wrists, pushing them into the bedding as he rose up and withdrew slightly, then thrust back in. Midnight moaned. "Do you think I didn't anticipate such a thing from a possessive little brat like you?"
"Who's the possessive brat?" Midnight demanded, but further retorts were cut off as Devlin withdrew again and thrust back inside him harder. "D-Devlin." He arched on the bed, head falling back, hands twisting in Devlin's grasp but not enough to free himself because he liked this. It was better than every vivid imaging. "M-More."
Oh, that got him a growly noise he wanted to hear every day of his life, right behind that rough-edged chuckle.
"As you command." Devlin kissed him, hard enough to leave Midnight's lips throbbing, then set to demonstrating just how much he'd been holding back.
Midnight tried to speak, but it was impossible to even think past the heat of Devlin's body, the force of his thrusts, the stretch and fullness, the pleasure shooting up his spine, Devlin's mouth—
"Come," Devlin said against his mouth before dragging his tongue across Midnight's lips.
"Heartbeat," Midnight stuttered out, and did as told, cock spilling between them.
Devlin thrust into him one more time, and kissed as he shuddered through his climax.
He collapsed on top of Midnight a moment later, finally releasing his wrists. Midnight lightly clung to him, mind spinning as it tried to process and accept that the one thing he'd most wanted in the world had finally come to pass—Devlin was his lover.
Groaning, Devlin pushed off him and rolled over to sprawl on his back in the enormous bed. Midnight followed, propping himself on Devlin's lovely chest, his long, wavy hair spreading messily around them. He sighed at the look on Devlin's face. "Please do not tell me you are already brooding and second guessing yourself. Am I such a terrible lover?" Old fears sent cold shivers racing down his spine. "Is it that I'm a cor—"
"You are not a corpse," Devlin said, finally dragging his eyes from the canopy to look at Midnight. "You're as alive as I am, if somewhat unconventional." His familiar grumpy expression took over, the one that said he was enduring feelings and would like the miserable process to be over already. "I regret nothing."
"Then what troubles you?" Midnight shifted so he could sit up enough to press a soft, shy kiss to Devlin's mouth. "You can't still be worried I have no choice in this. Didn't we settle that on the stairs?"
Devlin smiled ever so faintly, but the wisp of happiness was gone again in the next moment. "I do not have the greatest history with lovers."
Midnight sighed. "Heartbeat, I have known you literally my entire life. Do honestly think there is anything about you that would drive me away at this point? Stop creating problems. I know you excel at it, but leave off for one night. After everything we've been through, I deserve to be shamelessly spoiled."
"I was the one trapped in a basement, you know," Devlin said with a scowl that didn't remotely reach his eyes.
"I haven't forgotten. If I had known all it took to get you to bed me was locking you in a basement with a ghost I would have done it far sooner."
; "Brat," Devlin said, that delicious growl returning to his voice, an already familiar fire flaring in his eyes as he rolled them over and pushed Midnight into the bedding.
Dance
"What's that you have there?" Midnight asked, looking up from his book as Devlin returned to the library.
Devlin smirked. "I believe it's called a letter."
Midnight cast him a withering look. "Your wit fails to impress me. Give me a real answer."
"Nothing about me fails to impress you," Devlin said at his haughtiest, striding back to the massive work table at one end of the library. While his townhouse library was respectable, at least two of it would fit quite comfortably in the manor library, and that was not accounting for the second level.
The lower level was divided into four informal sections: the workspace dominated by a massive desk, a corner overtaken by chairs and settees and other ways of lounging comfortably while one read, another section meant solely for the cataloguing and maintenance of the books, and the last section was what Midnight thought of as Devlin's research corner.
At present he was immersed in his perpetual study of runes. Those who said he was good at them simply because he was reckless and used to trusting to his temper were only half-right. "It's a letter from Lord Tamor. He sent someone to see how Ginny and her mother are faring, as I requested."
"Oh?" Midnight asked with genuine interest. They were the only part of the entire affair about which he had felt awful. Whatever his motives, Silas had been better to them than most masters.
"They are gone," Devlin continued. "He said the house was sold, and they took the money to relocate. I am certain that granted them enough funds to live happily for as long as they like. Lord Tamor says his man reports that neighbors said they seemed happy about moving, that both were in excellent spirits. He would have pursued inquiries, but the ladies gave no indication of where they were going."
Midnight nodded. "At least they seemed happy. Maybe it was just relief. I cannot imagine they would want to stay." He shrugged, not really certain what else to say. He hoped they really were happy. Setting his book aside, he left the comfort of his chair and wandered over to Devlin's corner of the room, pawing over the various books stacked in precarious piles. "So what are you researching this time?"
