by Parker Foye
Rob grinned. They wanted him to talk? They’d struggle to get him to shut up.
“Have you ever heard of weaving?” he asked.
ROB woke with a start. Squinting against the lights since he’d left all of them on, he pushed up from the mattress. Something crinkled, and he swore to find crumbs scattered across his sheets, swearing again when he spotted the trail of eviscerated vending machine snacks leading from his bed to the door. No wonder his mouth tasted like death.
He’d be leaving a very big tip indeed.
The knock came again, more impatient than last time. When Rob checked his phone, he saw midnight had been and gone, and they’d entered the unholy predawn hours.
“What is it?” he yelled, hoping the adjacent rooms had noise reduction charms.
“Robert.” Marta never yelled, but she never failed to be heard.
Rob tugged on the sweatpants from the floor and grabbed his hoodie from the back of the chair. He zipped it up as he crossed the room and then flipped the hood over his head. Whatever the production team had put in his hair proved impossible to remove and made him look like a cockatoo. He opened the door.
“What’s going on?”
His mother brushed past him without a word, his cousin Jamie following silently behind with a book in their hand as always. The two quickly arranged themselves at the table, his mother in the chair and Jamie leaning against the edge.
“Welcome?” Rob said when neither of them spoke. “Can I get you a—” He looked around. “A tiny cup of water? Half a chocolate bar?”
“We’re here to help,” his mother said, steamrolling over pleasantries. She tapped Jamie on the leg. “Tell him.”
“Figured out your boy’s curse.” Jamie brandished the photocopy of Luc’s pattern, which had been tucked in their book. “Using this.”
Rob’s knees turned to mush. “What?”
“Gonna make shitloads of cash,” Jamie continued. Their smirk turned sharp.
“Not the point,” his mother muttered, though she smiled as she met Rob’s eyes. “Though we will make oodles with this. Your boy will have a share, of course. A very generous share.”
“Will you stop calling him my boy. Gods.” Rob rubbed his face, grimacing when his fingers turned orange with foundation. He tried not to imagine how the bedsheets must look.
He picked his way across his room, then sat cross-legged on top of his covers and shook his head in an attempt to wake up.
“Start from the top.”
“Jamie found the approach,” his mother said proudly. “Tell him, dear.”
“Was a bit like a Swan Princess, but also not. Bit like wolf metas too, but more complicated. S’easy, really, when I got a good look at the pattern and thought about it some. Whoever wrote this was a genius.” Jamie was the most corkscrew-twisted thinker in the family. With the pattern to guide them, Rob wasn’t surprised they managed to break a curse overnight. Nor that they stayed up all night trying.
“Of course Olivia helped,” his mother put in.
Well, there it was. The curse hadn’t stood a chance.
“Then you’ve broken it?” Rob asked. Surely it couldn’t be that simple. From his mother’s slight grimace, he realized it wasn’t. “What is it? Sacrifice required?”
“No, nothing like that. There’s a generational component, as you know. That was what we focused on. We found the stopper, so it should no longer propagate, and of course we can keep working on the other elements, but in the meantime—”
Jamie took over when she faltered. “Can’t retcon. Your boy’s stuck with antlers.”
They both looked at Rob like it was the worst report they could deliver. For a moment Rob thought it might be, but as he turned the problem over and imagined breaking the news to Luc, he began to change his mind. Rob trailed his gaze across the bed, where parts of his weaving nest had formed islands of half-finished magic.
He glanced at Jamie. “You figured out the key elements, right?” When Jamie nodded, Rob smiled. “Give me your notes. I’m feeling inspired.”
LUC looked around Rob’s hotel room with a strange expression, his attention lingering on Rob’s packed suitcases and where his snowboard leaned against the cupboard. The mess had been banished; after calling Luc to come over, Rob attempted some housekeeping magic he found on the internet. Everything smelled like citrus, but Rob rather liked it.
He’d worked fast after speaking with his family and realizing what he had to do. His eyes were scratchy, but he hadn’t the time for sleeping, not with his flight the next morning and Luc with limited human hours in his day. Rob checked the clock again. A few hours remained until sunset.
“Sorry again about the short notice,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s just with me going tomorrow and everything….”
“I get it.” Luc trailed his fingers on Rob’s hastily made bed. “Can’t believe you’re going already. Can’t believe it’s Solstice tomorrow.”
“I know.”
Luc didn’t seem to hear him. “It’s almost time to change the calendar.”
Rob didn’t want their meeting to be maudlin. He needed to move things along. He toed off his shoes and arranged his hoodie on the back of the chair, then sat on the bed against the headboard, legs stretched out. He grabbed the plastic bag from where he’d tucked it between the bed and bedside table and rustled it until Luc turned around.
“What’s that?” Luc asked, though a smile played on his lips. “You didn’t. I didn’t get you anything! I feel bad.”
“You’re here, aren’t you? Come on, sit down.”
After taking off his boots and draping his coat over Rob’s hoodie, Luc sat beside him on the bed. He curled and uncurled his toes like an excited kid and made grabbing motions with his hands.
“Present please,” he said, drawing out the second word.
Rob snorted. “You’re lucky you’re adorable.”
“It’s my superpower,” Luc agreed. He leveled a look at Rob. “But seriously.”
Handing him the bag, Rob tried not to be creepy at watching every infinitesimal change in Luc’s expression as he opened the bag and withdrew the charcoal-gray scarf. Luc’s eyes lit up, and a small, almost private smile crossed his face. He pressed his fingers into the plush fabric and smoothed his hand along the length.
Rob cleared his throat. “It’s a scarf. You can see that, I guess. I started making it after we first met—”
“You did?”
Rob’s cheeks heated. He shrugged. “Weaving’s always come to me like that. Like I’m making something from a dream. Making it real. The color, I thought it might match your coat? The fancy wool one? I—I like your coat. And I was thinking how you get cold? So a scarf. But.” Rob gestured vaguely. “Warmth too.”
He doubted any part of what he said made sense and considered going to the balcony and drowning himself in snowmelt. Luc didn’t seem to mind as he played a fold of the fabric between his fingers and smoothed it out again, like petting an animal. His black fingernails drew Rob’s eye, as always, serving to showcase the gracefulness of Luc’s hands.
“It’s warm,” Luc said. He rolled his eyes at himself. “The magic, I mean. Usually it stings. This feels like… like it’s for me. Like it knows me.”
Rob had completely forgotten about the way curses reacted with magic. He thought of the snowmelt again. On the heels of that thought came another about weaving and curses and a possible link between the two. He shelved it for exploration at a later date.
With quick movements Luc wrapped the scarf around his neck. He grinned and ducked his nose behind the fold like Rob had seen him do time and again since they met. Seeing Luc wearing something he’d made caused a flutter of happiness in Rob’s chest.
“Smells like something I remember from being a kid.” Luc took a deep breath. “I don’t know what.” Rob could see the edges of his smile behind the scarf. “Something good. It’s wonderful. Thank you.”
Before Rob could react, Luc wrapped
him in a hug. The always-surprising strength of his arms caught Rob in a tight embrace, and Rob pressed his nose into the crook of Luc’s neck, inhaling the scent from Luc’s scarf as he did. He couldn’t smell anything but wool and Luc’s hair gel, and he pressed his smile into the folds. Magic.
Leaning back, careful not to break the circle of Luc’s arms, Rob cupped Luc’s face in his hands. He wanted a taste of Luc’s happiness. He captured Luc’s lips in a kiss, meaning to share a gentle moment, but Luc had other ideas, and Rob swiftly found himself on his back, bedsheets rumpled, with Luc looming over him.
“Will you fuck me?” Luc asked between pecks to Rob’s cheeks, forehead, jaw.
The question made Rob’s breath catch. Words flew from his brain and blood rushed to his dick. He nodded like a bobblehead doll on a washing machine.
“Y-yes. Yes. Please. Yes,” he said, in case Luc had any doubt.
Luc pressed laughing kisses to Rob’s lips. He pushed himself up and glanced around the room. “Have you got stuff?”
Rob’s dick, already at half-mast, stiffened further at the question, and the zipper of his jeans rapidly became problematic. Luc nosed under Rob’s jaw and worried the skin there, finding a direct line to Rob’s dick and making him whine. The contrast between the softness of the scarf and the sharp edges of Luc’s teeth made him impossibly harder.
Fumbling beneath his pillow, Rob withdrew the condoms and lube he’d stashed in a bout of optimism. The crinkling sound drew Luc’s attention, and he pushed up on his forearms, his hungry grin hitting every button in Rob’s brain. Moving quickly, Luc shucked his clothes in short order, carefully laying the scarf on top of his coat, and chivvied Rob to do the same. Distracted by Luc’s dick, Rob nearly throttled himself with his T-shirt but eventually managed to shed the thing and toss it away.
They exchanged kisses as Luc manhandled Rob onto his side and curled up with his back to Rob’s chest. Rob wrapped his arm around Luc and pulled them together, their position causing his dick to ride the crease of Luc’s arse. Losing himself to the animal scent of sweat rising from Luc’s body, it took Rob a moment to realize his movement was easier than it should’ve been.
“When did you have a chance to do that?” By “that” Rob meant the slick of lube easing his rut over Luc’s body. When Luc pushed back into him, Rob reached between their bodies to finger Luc’s crack and follow the slick down between his thighs. “Is this okay?”
Luc let his top thigh fall forward. “Yes. Want you to fuck me like this,” he said, completely destroying Rob’s higher thought processes.
“Do you even know the things you do to me?”
Luc glanced over his shoulder. His grin glimmered with fierce joy. “Show me.”
Rob intended to obey. After carefully stretching Luc, then rolling on a condom, Rob eased his way into Luc’s tight heat, guided by Luc’s grunts and grabby hands. Once fully seated, Rob gripped Luc’s hips and took a moment to breathe and concentrate on not blowing his load. Luc didn’t help the situation, rocking his hips and pushing back, as if Rob could get any deeper inside him.
“Hold on a damn minute,” Rob muttered, nuzzling Luc’s hairline.
Luc kicked back with his heels. “Come on and fuck me already, slacker.”
Rob had never laughed during sex before, but he snickered in the valley between Luc’s shoulder blades as he drew out, took a breath, and drove back in. Luc whined at the sensation, and his protests turned to begging as he clawed the sheets with his black nails.
“Again, do that again! Please.”
The pleas hit every primal button in Rob’s brain. He hitched up Luc’s leg and repeated his long stroke, driving into Luc’s perfect heat.
“Again,” Luc demanded.
Rob put himself to work. Sweat dripped from him as he fucked into Luc over and again while Luc met each thrust with a gasp or wanton moan. Bedsheets rumpled and the headboard thumped into the wall, but Rob scarcely noticed. Nothing mattered but the bratty man shaking as he came apart beneath Rob.
“Yes—you’re so—Rob!” Luc clenched impossibly tight around Rob’s dick as he came. He kicked, and something fell off the bedside table. “Fuck!”
Struck by laughter, Rob’s own orgasm hit him like a brick. He grabbed Luc and thrust into him, filling the condom in long pulses and gasping into Luc’s sweaty neck as they both shook together.
When he could, he carefully withdrew from Luc’s body. Luc barely twitched from his position facedown in a pillow. They’d ended upside-down on the bed, and yet Luc managed to take a pillow with him. Rob wanted to give him an award. Lots of awards. And kisses.
He rolled to his feet. “Be right back.”
After cleaning himself up in the bathroom, he returned with a washcloth for Luc, then tried to arrange the sheets before admitting defeat. He curled up beside Luc and smoothed Luc’s sweaty hair back from his face. Luc blinked blearily. Fucked-out was an excellent look on him.
“Whazzat?”
Rob hummed. “I got you something else.”
Luc recovered with an avaricious beam. “Another present?”
Moving to sit against the headboard, Rob drew the sheets around his waist and folded his hands on his stomach. He needed to work out how best to say what he wanted. To try not to get Luc’s hopes up.
“I’ve told you about weaving, haven’t I? Well, I want to collect people’s stories about their old magic traditions. Not only weaving, but other craft we don’t think about much anymore. It’s something I’ve thought about before, but all of this has helped me decide.” Rob rubbed the back of his neck. “You inspired me, actually.”
Luc twisted around to face him, lying on his stomach. “Me?”
It would be easier to show him. Rob withdrew the small box from the bedside table drawer. As Rob spoke, he traced patterns over the surface. Magic thrummed beneath his fingers. “Let me start by saying I don’t know if these will work. I think they will, but I can’t be sure.”
“Rob—did you—”
Without completing his question, Luc scrambled up to his knees, uncaring of his nakedness. He reached out as if to touch the box but refrained and folded his hands together next to his soft dick. His hair was tangled and his eyes were dark, and Rob desperately wanted to kiss him.
He cleared his throat instead. “After you gave me your uncle’s pattern, I wanted to try.” Rob shook his head and corrected himself. “I had to try.” He huffed a breath. “Of course my mam got in on it, and then it became a project, like these things do. The challenge, I mean. It’s not about people, with my family. It’s about puzzles. They’re obsessed.”
“Did you do it?” Luc blurted, eyes wild. “Did you break the curse? It’s barely been five minutes. You can’t have. Tell me you have.”
“We’ll only know when any of you has kids, but—”
Luc kissed the rest of Rob’s explanation from his lips, whining into Rob’s mouth and pressing him into the headboard. Luc tasted electric, like summer storms, and where he touched Rob, he left crackling gossamer threads of magic. Rob submitted happily until the sharp edges of the gift box pressed into his chest.
“Luc—gods, that’s good—Luc! Give me a second, I’m not done.”
From his position wrapped around Rob’s side, their legs intertwined and his hand creeping beneath the bedsheets, Luc smirked. “I can see you’re not done.”
Rob groaned and pushed Luc’s hand away. Very reluctantly. “I’m being serious.”
Luc flopped onto his back because he was nothing if not dramatic. “What now.”
“We didn’t break your curse, Luc.” Rob felt wretched, but it had to be said.
Rolling onto his side, Luc propped his head on his fist. A delicate frown appeared between his eyebrows. “Okay?”
“Okay?” Rob repeated. He’d expected more of a reaction.
“I figured that much. I can feel it.” Luc rapped his knuckles on his temple. “Here. But you’ve sorted it out for Amandine’s and Eloise’s kids, haven’
t you? Or you think you have.” His eyes went hooded as the smirk returned. “Let me show you how much I appreciate your efforts.”
Rob wondered if anyone had ever loved someone as much as he loved Luc. He felt sick with it. Infected with it. Love beat in every part of him for every part of Luc, even his need to undercut serious moments with flirtation and stamp his foot like an angry horse when he didn’t get his way. He loved every freckle and every scar, every smirk and sigh, down to the heart of him.
Rob didn’t believe in fate, but if someone had said they’d cursed an entire family so he and Luc would meet? He’d believe them, and happily.
He sighed fondly at Luc and bopped his beautiful perfect head with the gift box. “Open this, you impossible man.”
“Impossible? I like that,” Luc said, waggling his eyebrows. He took the box and sprawled on his stomach to open it, ripping the paper and flicking the scraps on Rob’s chest. Once he’d made a satisfactory mess, he flipped the lid who-knew-where, then stilled. “You didn’t.”
“Only one way to tell if I did. How long until sunset?”
“Half an hour. Less. I was—I was going to run home. There’s supposed to be fireworks later, Eloise said. I didn’t want to be caught out in them.”
Rob carded his fingers through the wild curls of Luc’s hair and smoothed his thumb across the little scars in his hairline. “Stay. Watch the fireworks with me.”
Buckling on the leather cuffs with their thrumming magical symbols, the ones Rob had created with dark thread and focused will, Luc regarded them for a long minute. Rob had never seen such stillness on his face. Luc’s hands shook as he traced the stitching. Rob wanted to slip their fingers together, but he didn’t want to break Luc’s concentration. He seemed to be thinking of something that scared him.
Twenty percent scary, maybe.
When Luc finally looked up, Rob relaxed entirely. He hadn’t realized how tense he was. Luc clambered over the bed to lie on top of Rob and press chest to chest, hard and soft in the same interesting places. He stared into Rob’s eyes like he could read every page of him and wanted to subscribe to his newsletter.
