Treasure - On the Beach

Kyo! I'm going to kill you!" Taka threw the fish back into the water and sprinted after his twin, water flying in all directions as they ran through the surf, the beads in Kyo's hair catching the sunlight -- until clouds began to fill the sky. "Don't you dare!" Taka bellowed, increasing his speed. "Lightning is cheating, you good for nothing god! No lightning! I'm going to kill you!" Taka lunged, tackling Kyo, sending them both crashing down to be swallowed by the surf. Above them the sky once more cleared, no threat of a storm remaining.

"Brat," Kyo said as they came sputtering up, his hair a a tangled mess. "And you hurt the poor little fish's feelings. He liked you." Kyo laughed as he swept his tangled hair from his face.

"I'll show you brat!" Taka howled, and shoved Kyo back beneath the water -- then let out a shout that quickly turned into sputtering and coughing as Kyo shoved back, reversing their positions.

"Honestly, Taka," Kyo said, climbing to his feet. "Temper, temper." He took off like a shot, laughing and calling taunts over his shoulder, barely staying ahead of Taka.

Higher up the beach, well away from the water and twins, Raiden sat chuckling and drinking wine straight from the bottle. Beside him, whiter than the sand, seemingly obliviosu to the the heat of the sun, Kindan lay out, half-dozing with his arms tucked beneath his head.

"Have they finally killed each other?" Kindan asked when the shouting abruptly stopped, not bothering to open his eyes to see for himself. Then Taka bellowed a long string of curses. "Never mind."

Raiden laughed and pressed the bottle to Kindan's side, laughing as the cold wine against hot skin made Kindan jump.

Grumbling, Kindan dragged himiself to a sitting position, tilting his head back to down a swallow of sweet white wine.

Raiden suddenly smirked. "If we asked them nicely, do you think they'd do that naked?"

Kindan choked on the wine, droping the bottle and doubling over as he began to cough. When he finally recovered, he turned to glare at Raiden. "Shima!"

"What?" Raiden asked innocently.

"I will hurt you."

Raiden grinned. "I see what you're thinking. If we start the naked fighting, they'll follow suit. Very clever."

"Oh, shut up." Kindan said, and fell back into the sand, draping an arm over his eyes, ignoring the laughter beside him and the racket further down the beach.

 

Dance with the Devil - Meeting the Parents

Chris glared. At all three of them. His mother because he just knew she'd stashed the photo albums somewhere handy. Sable because he knew that gleam in the demon's eye. His father because the man would do whatever Glenys told him to, even if it included embarrassing their son.

"Charmed," Sable murmured, bowing over Gleny's hand like he'd forgotten which century he currenlty lived in. "I can see where he gets his beauty." He nodded to Daniel, treating the translucent figure as it were perfectly normal for a man to have a ghost for a father. "As well as certain other remarkable features." His lips twitched. "But I cannot tell where he gets his temper."

Glenys and Daniel laughed. Chris folded his arms across his chest and ignored them. "From his mother," Daniel said teasingly, stroking translucent fingers down his wife's cheek.

Chris snorted. "There's a lie if ever I heard one." He looked at Sable. My father was a rogue back when they still used that word."

Sable laughed. "That would explain your penchant for sneaking into offices, then. Though I thought it was the rogues that did the ravishing..."

"Sable!" Chris hissed, feeling his cheeks burn as his parents laughed. "Don't make me regret bringing you here."

"I would have come anyway, beautiful," Sable said, stroking his cheek much like Daniel had stroked Glenys'. "I like seeing the ones who made you what you are."

Chris sighed, conceding defeat. "You could at least pretend to behave."

"Nonsense," Daniel interjected. "You never bothered to, why should he? Now stop grousing and go eat the dinner your mother prepared."

"I knew I should have moved away," Chris muttered as he obeyed, but returned his mother's smile when his father and Sable weren't looking.

 

Kiss the Rain - Hot

"Hoooooooot," Jenohn whined. "So hot."

"Serves you right for dragging us to the summer festival," Selsor replied unsympathetically, licking sweetberry juice from his fingers. "I said we should stay inside. You insisted we come here. Suffer the consequences."

Jenohn lifted his head up from where he lay in the grass. "Please? Pretty please? For sexual favors?"

"I get those anyway," Selsor replied tartly. "And I will not abuse my magic, even to stop your whining." He ate another handful of dark red sweetberries, the juice staining his lips and fingers red.

Instead of being insulted, Jenohn merely gave Selsor one of his infuriating grins. "I could do worse."

"Probably," Selsor agreed. "But I've put up with you long eough not to be so easily swayed." He swallowed another sweetberry. "I will not abuse me magic."

Jenohn rolled his eyes. "One simple rain shower is not abuse. Look at everyone. They're miserable! Just a little rian! Nice and cool." He sat up and snagged Selsor's hand, stealing the berry he held and sucking on the fingers. "Right now it's way too hot to do anything."

Selsor narrowed his eyes and tried to tug his hand free. "Stop that."

"No," Jenohn said, teeth nipping lightly as Selsor's sensitive wrist. "Just a small shower. Something to play in. YOu love playing in the rain. So does everyone when its this hot." He yanked hard, sending sweetberries flying and Selsor sprawling across his legs with several colorful curses.

"Fine," Selsor said, glaring. "But you will behave." High above them the blue sky began to fill with dark clouds, the scent of pending rain coming on a cooling breeze.

Jenohn nodded and began to blithely disobey the order as rain began to fall, Selsor curses lost beneath the sounds of the summer shower and the cheers of people at the fair in the valley below.

 

Kidnapped - Swimming Lessons

"It's called swimming, Einn."

"It's called 'do I look like a fish to you?" Einn replied, glaring well away from the edge of the swimming pool.

Cyan rolled his eyes. "Baby."

"Fornarian. Rocks. Water bad."

"You're not made of rock."

"I'm also lacking in fat, which makes me very sinkable. You swim. I'll stay right here."

Cyan rolled his eyes again and pushed off the wall, backstroking lazily across the pool. "Fine, baby. Then I guess I can't show you a few tricks I picked up from this girl I used to know on Mars..."

Einn narrowed his eyes. "What tricks?

Smirking, Cyan explained.

"Fine," Einn said as he finished, and slowly approached the pool. He stared distrustfully at the water, but eventually knelt and then slid into the pool. "But I'm not going in the deep end."

Kidnapped - Switch

Baxter barely glanced up from the papers he was looking over, annoyed that the data hadn't been directly transmitted, not needing to see to know that his brother was approaching. But he did smile at seeing Ellie was with him.

He and Lucid exchanged a brief look as they drew close, and he introduced the buzzing, nattering, clinging people around him to his brother and Elton, smirknig at the way one of the women lingered a little too long over their pretty.

As if she stood a chance.

A moment later the group continued on, eager to get to the dinner that was being provided at Bangkok's expense -- the Jewels were never anything less that the grandest of hosts, even to those who were little more than flecks of space dust in the glittering world of Bangkok.

Besides the twins, only Elton noticed that as the group moved on, they were led by Lucid rather than Baxter. "You're going to get caught doing that one day, Bax."

"We've already been caught, pretty," Baxter said with a soft kiss. "And you're not going to tell."

 

Kidnapped - Birthday

It was rare to see anything close in Bangkok. Time bent to the will of Bangkok the same as everything else.

And Bangkok bent to the will of the its Masters. The Jewels alone altered the shape of reality on their exotic home.

Tonight they'd declared the entire first floor of Black Dragon tower would be empty. The restuarant, famous because diners might just catch a glimpse of the beautiful Jewels and their infamous lover, was empty save for three figures on the dancefloor.

The dancefloor was made of Zero glass, which was all but impossible to break and did not scuff or scratch or wear out. It was a smoky, translucent black, glistenng in the dimmed lights. Music played softly, seeming to come from everywhere.

It was eerily silent and still otherwise, the hundreds of table empty, candles extinguished, dark curtains drawn across windows, door locked.

Baxter swayed softly with the music, holding their pretty close, breathing in his scent, light and almost sweet, enjoying the warmth he could feel in Lucid's gaze as he watched the two of them dance.

Later their would be noise -- gasps and moans and cries, screams as they called one another's names -- but for now they enjoyed the quiet. Rich food to feed one another, heady alcohols to warm and relax, music they could dance all night to, and no demands at all because this one night of the year Baxter and Lucid had long ago set aside for just themselves.

Elton hummed softly with the music, eyes closed as he rest his head on Baxter's shoulder, arms tight around him. Baxter kissed him softly, then lifted his head to share a look with his brother.

A look of affection, undying love, understanding. And for once contentment, true happiness. This time last term their expressions had been clouded with misery. Despair that no one would ever see them as two people.

But now they had someone to share their birthday with, someone who was truly happy that Baxter and Lucid had been born.

 

The King's harem - Temptation

"However did two such beauties wind up in my possession?" Shah asked with a smile, tilting Nanda's head up and steaing a quick, soft kiss.

Nanda smiled fondly and then tugged a still shy Kiah forward. Though Kiah lacked Nanda's years of polish, he was easily an equal in beauty. Both were dressed to tend Shah in his morning court sessions, as Kiah still had much training to do in that sphere. Nanda had pulled his hair back in a multitude of braids which had in turn been braided together, creating an elaborate rope, further decorated with beads and trinks, matching the gold in his ears, the chains at his wrists and throat, wrapped around his flat stomach.

Shah gave Kiah a kiss, tugging the shy man close, chuckling softly as he let him go. "Perhaps I should have chosen ugly men. It is hard to do one's duty when constantly surrounded by temptation."

Nanda smiled and wrapped his arms around Kiah, nuzzling him softly as he looked teasingly at Shah. "If you'd prefer Bey and Aik, we could wake them."

"I prefer temptation to calculated torture," Shah said with a grin. "So come, my temptations, and make it bearable to be King."

 

Kidnapped - Rock Climbing

"This was a bad idea." Cyan spoke to the rock in front of him, as moving his head to look at Einn would require looking down and he really didn’t want to do that. There was entirely too much wind and too much rock and none of it close enough to his feet in the way he’d prefer.

A deep chuckle was Einn's reply, and a heartbeat later the Fornarian appeared at his side, grinning like a little kid at his favorite playground. Only Einn would look perfectly content and too damn comfortable this high off the ground – and Cyan had stopped counting how high a long time ago. "You never struck me as the type to be scared of heights"

"I'm not," Cyan snapped. “Except apparently when I’ve got nothing but a rock wall to cling to and nothing but a long drop below me. Not all of us can stick to rock you know.” He glared at Einn, then snapped his eyes back to the cliff, not liking the view beyond Einn. It reminded him how high they were.

Einn’s smile faded a bit, turning concerned. Cyan didn’t notice, too busy taking a few deep breaths and looking up to see how much further he had to climb. It looked so far away…but he’d be damned if he chickened out now.

Besides. He wasn’t all that certain he could climb down. Cyan dug his fingers into the rock and closed his eyes, trying to remember everything Einn had been teaching him about rock climbing. It was hard. Give him criminals to fight any day.

He opened them, starting, when he felt something move behind him. But in the next instant he recognized the feel of Einn, all bone and trim muscle, at his back. And then he saw the slender arms near his, Einn’s hands holding the rocks lightly. The Fornarian was as relaxed clinging vertically to rock as most people only were half-asleep in bed.

Cyan was impressed and unsettled all at once. To hear Einn talk about it was one thing – being amidst it was something else altogether.

Lips brushed the side of his neck."I wouldn't let you fall."

"Don't do that,"; Cyan shivered. "And I know. But that doesn't make the being high up go away."

Einn pressed more kisses to his neck. "Do what?"

"You are not doing that while I'm clinging to a cliff!"

I'm just trying to reassure you, relax you," Einn laughed softly in his ear.

"Not relaxing!"

Einn laughed again. "Then we should probably get to the top so you can unwind."

"I hate you," Cyan groused and started climbing again.

 

Kidnapped - Handcuffs

Einn eyed his lover warily, never quite certain if he should be impressed, horrified, or somewhere else.

Impressed because Cyan was a very good soldier – guard, whatever. Rehabber. He’d yet to meet a foe that intimidated the man or one with which Cyan couldn’t deal. Whatever rigmarole they put men through to work on Rehab, it worked well. If Cyan wasn’t familiar with a species, he was familiar with enough that he could improvise quite well.

And the relish with which he took down and secured the men they were ordered to locate and haul in was…interesting. He definitely had a knack for it.

Horrified because should anyone be that gleeful about launching a high kick, pinning a man to the ground and locking metal bands around his wrists? Cyan was normally fairly mellow, given to sitting around and reading. He only got excited on three occasions.

Einn was rather annoyed he was in competition with fighting Lark and cuffing prisoners. “The way you grin when you do that,” he said sourly. “It’s a wonder you don’t put handcuffs on me.”

Cyan dropped the prisoner he’d been picking up off the ground. He blinked at Einn, and stared a moment. Then his eyes took on a gleam that made Einn wish he’d kept his damn mouth shut.

 

Treasure - Tired

Kin lay wide awake, the prince still on his mind and lips. He stared up at his bed, the green fabric there black in the dim light of a single candle.

Around him the world had vanished, blocked out by the heavy curtains enclosing Kin's bed. Too many nights aboard ship, sleeping in cramped quarters with little to no light had made it impossible for him to sleep in an open bed.

He'd lit one candle, planning to read, but his attention would not focus. His hands ran up and down his bare chest, aching for the feel of another's flesh.

He was out of his mind. Kyo had made it more than obvious that he wasn't interested. Storms, I hate you only had so many meanings.

Except Kin remembered the way he'd all but melted in his arms, the he'd kissed him back...the way he'd been crying while the storms above them raged.

Kindan turned over and buried his head in his pillows. Tomorrow he would have it all out. He was tired of secrets. Tired of feeling angry and confused. Tired of waiting. Koori had belonged to him since their promise, and he would have him.

 

Treasure - Stubborn

Nankyo let the storm rage as he ran back toward Raiden's home, pace slowing to a walk as exhaustion began to get the better of him.

Bastard. Bastard. Bastard.

Why had the bastard kissed him? If his death wasn't already spelled out, Nankyo had no doubts Kindan would be the death of him.

And where did a snippy, moody, manner less sailor learn to kiss like that? Nankyo was no expert, his experience limited to Taka and a sad sailor, but even he realized Kindan knew what he was about.

Nankyo looked out over the sea, thoughts in turmoil. As if life hadn't been hard enough, now he knew what he was losing. And not just in kisses. But if he dwelt on Kinni further than that, he'd probably do something incredibly stupid.

Like go back.

He reached Raiden's house, hands gripping the door handle like a lifeline. Minutes ticked by as he stood there, clinging, wanting to let go.

But if he was nothing else, he was stubborn. Nankyo went inside.

Main Gauche - Bride Ball

"Here you are," Katan said with a shake of his head and a smile. "I might have known you were hiding again."

Dagger looked guiltily at the ground, shoulders hunched. "I don't care what you say - I will never grow used to it."

"Yes, you will." Katan slid an arm around Dagger's shoulders and drew him close. "Trust me. One day you'll take a look at a crowded ballroom, roll your eyes and say "another night of boredom" and go in search of the nearest glass of wine.

His words forced a small laugh from Dagger, who still stood rigidly, toying with the lace cuffs of his formal black jacket. "I'm sorry. I just really hate these fancy balls." He grimaced, "Especially these bride hunting parties."

Katan laughed. "I do admit it's annoying to see a surplus of women."

Dagger's shoulders sagged a bit.

"What's really wrong?" Katan asked suddenly, one hand going up to stroke Dagger's hair. "You're not usually this troubled by the parties."

"It's nothing," Dagger said.

Katan frowned. "You're not very convincing when--"

His words were cut off by a flash of white as a woman in a wide ball gown came barreling past them, rushing down the balcony stairs to the courtyard below. Dagger shoved Katan out of the way, fingers going for his sword before he realized there was no threat. "Sorry!" the woman called over her shoulder. "You haven't seen me!" She vanished around a wall.

"What in the world…?" Katan muttered.

Dagger relaxed his hold, just as a man came rushing out and all but knocked them over.

"My apologies. Katan, have you seen a girl in a white dress?"

Katan laughed and pointed. "She went that way."

"My thanks!"

Dagger sighed as the man vanished. Katan stroked his cheek, "You should relax."

"Impossible." He smiled, "You might get attacked by a dress if I'm not watchful."

Katan grinned back, "Did you notice she was missing a shoe? I wonder what he did to make her bolt like that." He shook his head, laughing. "Praise the Saints I'll never have to deal with something like that."

"Won't you though?" Dagger asked tightly. "You have to pick a bride eventually."

"Ah," Katan said. "Now I see why you're so upset." He ducked his head and kissed Dagger until the shorter man was breathless. "And the answer is no. I have you; I will never have need of a bride. If my father tries to arrange something so absurd, he will be the one entertaining the deluge of women he invites."

Handcuffs - Cruise

"How on earth did you afford this, Owen?"

Owen grinned, "Ask me no questions, I'll tell you no lies…"

"I'm asking you a question."

Sighing tolerantly, Owen tousled Paul's hair "My mom is good friends with a travel agent. You've met, I think. Bridget?"

Paul frowned in thought. He snapped his fingers. "Oh, yeah! At the New Year's party."

"That's her. Anyway, I got an awesome deal through her. And mom said that if I pay half - which I have - then she would pay the other half."

Paul frowned, this time angry. "And what about me? What am I paying?"

Owen grinned slyly and leaned over in his desk to whisper in Paul's ear.

Turning beet red, the brightly colored brochures falling from his hands to the desk and floor, Paul shot Owen a glare. "I told you not to say that kind of thing in class!"

"Class hasn't started yet," Owen said unrepentantly. "Plus, you and your sister did a lot for my mom and me over Christmas break. She's wanted to repay you for ages. It was actually all her idea."

"There's nothing to repay," Paul muttered. "You kept our sanity, trust me."

"So does this mean you don't want to go on the cruise?" Owen asked unhappily.

Paul sighed. "Of course not. I just don't want you and your mom paying for all of it."

"You can help out with the plane tickets or something." Owen leered, "And my suggestions are still viable."

"Not if you suggest them while we're at school again." Paul glared, cheeks still scarlet.

Owen grinned and sat back in his seat. "My lips are sealed."

 

Trilogy of Knights - Distraction

"The roses seem to be recovering, at long last." Trey remarked from where he stood at the garden's threshold.

Dunstan looked up, smiling. Lingering a moment over the yellow rose bush he'd been attending, he then stood and brushed off his robes, meeting Trey in the middle of the garden. "Next to repairing the castle defenses, the roses are easy." He looked up at the sky, "And the weather has been absolutely perfect for them."

Trey made an affirmative noise, distracted by the pale throat bared to him, pressing his lips to it and leaving a trail of wet kisses as he worked his way to Dunstan's mouth. "I have no doubt that were the sky filled with thunderclouds, you would persuade the roses to grow."

"Not if you keep coming out here to distract me," Dunstan said breathlessly.

"I only come out here because you're distracting me."

Dunstan laughed and shook his head, hands coming up to rest on Trey's shoulders. "You can't even see me when I'm out here. How could I possibly be distracting you?"

Trey's eyes flashed pale silver. "I can always see you. And you will distract me until the end of my days - and probably beyond."

"The feeling is entirely mutual," Dunstan replied, and leaned up to meet Trey's kiss.

Kidnapped - Winter

Jade sat in the snow, gently scooping up handfuls and then dumping them out again. The flakes caught in his hair until you could no longer see the dark strands. His robes were soaked in, more frozen than not.

Eventually he fell back to lay in the snow, letting it pile up around him, cover him until his skin and lips were blue with cold.

Standing up, he shook what he could of it off, then tapped a button on a metal band at his wrist.

Around him the pine trees and masses of snow faded, blurred, vanished. He was left in an empty room of metal. His robes and hair were dry, skin pale but healthy. Turning on his heel, he exited the hologram chamber. A moment later he left the Illusionist Hall altogether, vanishing into the streets of Bangkok.

The Hologram attendants watched him as he left. The one on the right, a white-skinned human, looked to his dark-skinned partner. "What's with that guy?"

"Dunno."

"Most people come here for things a hell of a lot more exciting than weather. Don't tell me he gets off on snow."

The dark-skinned attendant shrugged. "I asked him once, why he always chooses a weather simulation. All he said was that winter was his favorite season."

"Weirdo."

 

Kidnapped - Adalsteinn

Einn climbed, sweating lightly but grinning madly. He was going to make it! All the way up Star Climb and not once had he used his magics.

His mother would kill him, if she knew. But man, he wouldn't have to go scrounging for food for the next Turn or two. Because he was about to win--

The Bet!

Climbing up and over the last jutting ledge, Einn crawled his way up a slight incline until he reache dthe top of the highest Plateau in the settlement.

Ha! They were going to eat their words now, telling him he couldn't...

Einn's thoughts faded away as he looked up at the stars. He'd never really paid attention to them before, having more important things to do when he bothered to climb up to a plateau wide enough to linger on - usually he had company.

They were beautiful.

1000 Victories - Birds

Epee fiddled restlessly with the cages, all the little dishes and bells and other toys that Sharp put in there for his birds. "Are you certain they'll be all right?" he asked, hesitantly reaching out to touch one of the newest additions, then one of the older birds.

Nearby stood Thomas, a man who dealt in animals, primarily pets. He chuckled quietly. "Yes, Master Epee. They're the same species, just a different breed. They come from overseas, a different environment, slightly. Hence the change in color. That aside, they're exactly the same."

Smiling at his own anxiety, Epee finally closed the cage up and turned away, extending his hand to Thomas. "I thank you, my friend, for both the birds and putting up with me."

Thomas laughed. "Hardly a chore, Master Epee. I promise. I've not yet begun to pay back the wine you've given me. If you want more birds, let me know."

Epee nodded. "I hope—" He broke off as the conservatory door opened, and the nervousness which had finally abated returned threefold.

He didn't even notice as Thomas slowly backed away and vanished entirely, chuckling softly all the while.

"What are you doing in here?" Sharp asked with a smile

Epee grinned. "I was thinking of getting a cat; I wanted to make certain there was enough food in the house." He clasped his hands behind his back so they wouldn't move about with nervous anxiety.

"Haha," Sharp said, rolling his eyes. He drew close enough to give Epee a kiss.

"You taste like claret," Epee said. "Your mother must have been in a fine mood."

Sharp rolled his eyes again. "Indeed. She—" He stopped and turned to face the nearest cage dead on, hands going up to rest lightly on the bars. He stared quietly for a moment, then shot Epee a suspicious, disbelieving look. Opening the cage, he reached inside and gently coaxed the birds into coming to his hand.

"There are new birds in here," Sharp said in wonder, eyes only for the newest additions. "Blue and green, I've never seen them with blue and green feathers." He finally withdrew, looking at Epee with wonder and delight. "Where in the devil did you find some with blue and green feathers?"

"A wise merchant never reveals his source," Epee said, all but vibrating with the success of his surprise. "So you like them?"

For reply, Sharp merely yanked him close and kissed him hard and deep, clinging as though his life depended on it.

Oh, he did like when Sharp was so overwhelmed he stopped pondering and simply acted.

"I'll take that for a yes," Epee said breathlessly when he was finally released.

"Yes," Sharp said. "They're beautiful. Thank you."

Epee smiled. "You're welcome."

 

1000 Victories - Lovers Duel

"Off with it," Sharp commanded, leering and motioning with his sword, motioning impatiently.

Epee made a face, but obediently shucked his waistcoat and tossed it to join his neck cloth and afternoon coat. "You are in fine form today, my Lord Sharp."

Sharp bowed. "Thank you, my Lord Epee." He grinned and raised his sword. "Shall we continue?"

Back and forth across the ballroom they went, early evening keeping the room pleasantly cool, though very soon they would have to pause to light candles.

If, Sharp thought as he landed a mark, they were here long enough to bother with the candles.

He drew back. "That is another to me. Off with the shirt."

"You were not nearly this good when we dueled in the square," Epee groused good naturedly, stripping out of his shirt and tossing it to join the growing pile.

Sharp saluted him with his sword. "What can I say, my love, I am inspired."

"I cannot think why we began doing this," Epee said, rolling his eyes and struggling to appear unaffected by the compliment. "Swords and nudity are not a good combination."

Lifting his sword, Sharp grinned. "Anything involving you naked is a good thing. Besides, at some point we will adjourn to finish this duel in more suitable quarters. Once I have you out of those breeches."

"Try it," Epee said, and lunged.

The next bit of clothing to go was Sharps own afternoon jacket.

Perhaps they would need the candles after all.

 

The Perfect Son - Confused

Epee took a deep gulp of wine, eyes never leaving the spectacle on the far side of the ballroom.

He caught Dagger's eyes briefly, and saw he was just as bewildered.

His eyes went back to Sabre - who was currently bickering loudly and colorfully with the Duke of Lashton, as though they were well acquainted.

Well acquainted lovers, at that, unless he was seriously mistaken in what those two rather thorough kisses meant.

What in the bloody hell?

This combined with what Sharp had told him of the debacle at the club the other day…he was starting to wonder what had happened to his brother.

"I wasn't aware Sabre had a twin," Sharp murmured in his ear.

Epee shook his head. "Me neither," he muttered. "The Sabre I know would never act so in public. The Duke just kissed him! I'm not that audacious."

"A pity," Sharp said, smirking.

"You be quiet," Epee said, shaking his head in amusement. He turned to smile at Sharp, but the sound of laughter from the crowd around Sabre and the Duke drew his attention, and he was astonished to see the Duke arm in arm with Sabre, telling something to the King and Queen while waving his free hand wildly about - and everyone laughing, and Sabre only standing there glaring at the Duke, and not at all bothered by the fact the man was clinging to him.

He shook his head and finished his wine. "I do not understand it."

When the group finally broke up a few minutes later, with the Duke dragging Sabre off to the buffet table, he made a beeline for Dagger and Katan.

"What in the world has happened to my brother? He demanded. "Am I seeing things?"

"Not unless we're all as delusional as you," Katan said, looking amused. "He called your brother 'rose' three times, and all Sabre did was sputter and get red in the face. I have never seen the like. Whip asked me to send a note that would ensure Sabre attended the ball. I should have pressed him harder to tell me why. Does your brother have a twin we never know about?"

Epee snorted at the recurring theory. "If I were still on speaking terms with my father, I would ask. As it stands, I cannot imagine what else it might be."

"The Duke?" Dagger proposed in his quiet, direct way. "I do not know how they met, but they seem well-acquainted. His grace seems to handle Sabre with the same skill a duelist handles a sword."

"They must be recently met," Epee said. "Only a week or so ago, there was nothing different about him. This is the first I've seen him in forever."

"He definitely wasn't like this at the club," Sharp said. "When I saw him, he looked like a man licking his wounds. Then he got into it with your father, and I do not believe he's been in town since."

Epee shrugged. "I guess we could go ask?" He turned to look toward the buffet table, and saw Sabre was no longer there. Scanning the ballroom, he quickly found him standing with the Duke by one of the open archways leading to the balcony.

He watched, unable to look away, as the Duke pulled a red rose from one of the many wreaths hanging around the ballroom and twirled it playfully before brushing it across Sabre's face - and his jaw dropped when Sabre's face went red, but his only motion was to grab the rose and throw it aside, before resuming eating from the little plate in his other hand.

The Duke smirked, obviously having made some point or won some small battle, and simply continued to talk while Sabre ate.

"You are positive he doesn't have a twin?" Katan asked. "That is not Sabre."

Epee motioned helplessly. "Damned if I know."

"It's the Duke," Dagger said again. "I would say that much is obvious."

"He's being…not Sabre because he's got a lover with no sense of decorum?"

Dagger quirked a brow at him, obviously amused. "I don't think it's a lover, so much as Sabre is in love."

Epee opened his mouth to say something flippant about monsters and ogres not being capable of love, but his eyes fell once again on Sabre, far away on the other side of the room, tucked into that archway with the odd Duke.

Sabre was smiling. Only a little bit, but it was there. A real smile, not one of his nasty smirks or sneers or mocking grins.

His brother looked happy. Sabre never looked happy.

"I think you're right," Epee said in disbelief.

Dagger snorted. "So did he really tell your father to go to hell? He is not wearing the family sword, I notice."

"He told Rapier a lot more than that," Sharp replied, and launched into his retelling of the fight in the club for Dagger and Katan, and all those who tried to pretend they did not slink closer to hear it.

The Perfect Son - Visitors

Lash uncoiled from the sofa as a servant knocked on the door.

Honestly, he was never going to get used to have people do everything for him. Then again, a two hundred (or more, he was terrible with architecture) year old house required a bit more upkeep than a grass hut.

"Your grace, Masters Epee and Dagger to see Lord Sabre."

"Oh?" Lash smiled. "Show them in, then. Sabre should be home soon." He thought a moment. "When Sabre returns, tell him only that we have visitors."

"Yes, your grace."

He marked his place in his latest book and made certain he was relatively put together. If there was one thing he really hated about being civilized, it was the profusion of clothing he apparently had to wear at all times.

Epee was immediately recognizable when he walked in - a much quieter version of his fiery brother. Lash thought he sensed a fellow scholar. "Gentlemen, I dare say friends, I'm afraid Sabre is still out. He's due back shortly, if you do not mind waiting. Would you care for a glass of wine? We recently acquired one that is a masterpiece."

Moving to the far wall of the small, blue and white parlor, he tugged the bell pull. "Wine, please, that fine red that Sabre brought home the other day."

The servant bowed and vanished, arriving a few short minutes later with the requested wine.

Lash handed the glasses out after the servant had poured. "What brings you here, my friends? Did you require Sabre for something? Or are you merely stopping in to chat a spell? You could stay for supper, if you like."

He almost snickered at the thought - Sabre would growl the rest of the night, like a bear with a thorn in its paw. The degree to which he avoided his family was almost amusing; it would be amusing if he didn't know for a fact that Sabre was secretly hoping his brothers would stop hating him.

As usual, Sabre did not think that possible, and so avoided the matter altogether.

"Where did you get this wine?" Epee asked in a puzzled tone.

"Hmm?" Lash asked, flawlessly playing clueless and disinterested. "I believe it was a gift? He invests in many things - business confuses me so, it's sad I can tell you how to bandage a wound or render a jungle cat unconscious, but ask me a question about stocks and I am hopeless. I believe one of his investments is a wine company, and the owner frequently sends bottles of new wines for Sabre to try. Do you like it? He is quite fond, and intends to express his compliments to the owner."

"Tell him to do it person," Epee said, looking torn between anger and amusement. He exchanged a look with Dagger. "Especially as I finally know the identity of my mystery backer."

Lash laughed and reclined in one of the deep blue-velvet chairs. "Oh, dear. I'm going to get yelled at for that little slip."

Dagger, a quiet and pretty sort of young man with green eyes that probably got him in and out of a great deal of trouble, smirked at him. "I think if you are not in trouble with someone, you feel like you are wasting your day."

"Indeed," Lash said, throwing his head back and laughing. "I am used to being in danger most of the time, from disease and wild animals and primitive peoples - and scores of other things. This being a gentleman of leisure is quite beyond me."

"Hence Sabre," Epee said, shaking his head in amusement.

Lash smiled faintly. "Sabre is something else entirely, but it's true he suits me as much as I suit him. Why did you come?"

"To try and talk to Sabre," Epee replied. "I'm beginning to realize Sabre is not who or what I always believed."

"We," Dagger said. "What we believed. He's been avoiding us; we've tried to talk to him before several times."

Honestly, Sabre. Lash shook his head. "He is nothing if not stubborn. I-" He stopped as he heard the front door open, the sound of Sabre chatting with the butler.

Smirking, he moved to stand to the side of the door.

The door opened, and Sabre stepped in - but as he realized who the visitors were, he attempted to turn and leave.

Lash shoved, sending him stumbling into the room, then closed the door smartly and leaned against it.

"What in the hell!" Sabre demanded, eyes flashing in that way Lash loved, had from the very first. Oh, yes, he did love a man with a temper. That was later, however.

"Your brothers have come to visit," he said cheerfully, "which means I'll have to put off expressing just how much I admire you in green."

Sabre glared at him, but did not protest the compliment, probably because he knew full well Lash would start in with the pet names.

Lash pressed on, deciding he may as well get all the trouble out at once. "We were just having wine."

A look of stark terror filled Sabre's eyes for a moment, then he turned to look at the wine, and saw his fears confirmed.

"I'm going to kill you," he said in a quiet tone that said he probably would kill Lash later.

Lash didn't budge from the door as Sabre approached. "I know neither of us is very good at being civilized, but they are your brothers - you could try."

Sabre glared at him, but Lash could also see the fear warring with hope.

He just stared right back, until Sabre grimaced and turned away, dropping into the seat Lash had recently vacated.

"So you like the wine?" Epee asked cautiously into the silence.

"Yes," Sabre said, just as warily.

There was a pause.

"You could have said you were my investor."

Sabre sneered. "Oh, yes. That would have gone over well for both of us. I'm not stupid, Epee. We were both better off with no one the wiser."

"I suppose," Epee said. "Thank you. Without your help-"

"Whatever," Sabre snarled. "Just don't make me regret the investment."

Epee rolled his eyes, but Lash could see he was amused.

Progress, excellent. And later there would be quite a bit of angry Sabre to mellow out.

Hiding a snicker, he called a servant and told him to warn the cook there would be two extra for dinner.

The Perfect Son - Birthday Present

Epee drew to a halt as he watched Sabre approach.

They were in the royal gardens, on their way to meet Dagger and Katan for lunch. He'd been running late; it looked like Sabre was as well.

He stared again, not quite believing what he was seeing.

"What is that?" he finally asked.

Sabre scowled in that way Epee was slowly figuring out meant he was not nearly as angry or annoyed as he was pretending to be.

The bundle on his shoulder mewled, and buried its head even further into the collar of Sabre's jacket.

"What does it look like?" Sabre asked irritably. "Lash thinks he's funny."

Epee coughed to smother a laugh.

Sabre's narrowed eyes said he wasn't fooling anyone.

"It's, um," Epee struggled for an adjective that would not meet with his untimely demise. "Very small."

For that, he got a withering glare.

"What's its name?" Epee asked, grinning now because it was obvious he was busted.

"I have no idea," Sabre snapped. "I've only been putting up with the thing for fifteen minutes."

Epee reached out to gently pet the kitten that was little more than a teensy ball of fur on Sabre's shoulder. It was the color of honey mixed with cream, and probably would be beautiful when it was fully grown.

"Can we just go to lunch, so I can then take this damned thing home?" Sabre said.

Laughing, Epee bowed and stepped away, indicating Sabre should lead the way. "After you - and Happy Birthday."

"Oh, shut up," Sabre groused, but Epee didn't miss the way he reached up to make certain the kitten wouldn't fall.

The Perfect Son - Family Tradition?

Sabre went silent as he entered the club dining room.

No one was looking at him, and the room had gone curiously silent. He knew this wasn't him being ignored - that had a different feel to it.

The tension in the room now…

He looked around just to confirm, and sure enough - Lash was not present. There was only one reason Lash would not be present when they were due to meet for supper.

Reaching out, he snared a passing steward too stupid to stay out of arms reach, not caring as the man's tray went crashing to the floor, its contents flying about all over.

"Where is Lash?" he demanded. "Why is everyone acting guilty?"

The steward stared at him in wide-eyed fear, struggling futilely against the hand gripping his livery. "His Grace - that is to say -"

"Spit it out," Sabre snarled, shaking the man hard. "I will tear this room apart until I figure out who I need to kill."

"Lords Edge and Stiletto," the steward gasped out. "They may have mistakenly gone too far when attempting to tease his Grace about not being familiar-"

He didn't wait for the steward to finish, but released the man with a grunt, and stalked across the room to the two men who had either been too stupid to leave before his arrival, or smart enough to know that it was better to face the music.

Bracing his hands on the table, he glared at them both. "Tell me what you did, or I will kill you."

"He doesn't know cards!" Edge gasped out, as though panic had gotten the better of him, and the words simply spilled out in a clumsy jumble. Beads of sweat soaked his brow. "We only meant to tease; we didn't mean to hurt his feelings."

Sabre just glared, and slowly rose to his full height. "If I see your faces when I return, you will not live long enough to regret it."

He did not wait for their replies, but faint and fearful mutterings of 'yes, Lord Sabre' followed him out of the dining room.

Upstairs, it only took terrifying two more servants before he finally found the room Lash had procured. He stopped only to snare a third servant and inform what he would bring upstairs - or else. The servant fled, and he finally entered the room.

Lash lay in the middle of a large brown and maroon canopy bed, the curtains partly drawn, casting his bright lover into shadow. Approaching the bed, Sabre pushed the curtains back, allowing the candles and fading sunlight to warm his lover's hair and what little skin was bare.

He was everything Sabre was not - bold and brave and daring and cheerful and caring. If he were also a little bit mad, well, Sabre could not find fault with it. He'd tried and failed. He would envy Lash all the things he was, that Sabre would never be, if he did not love the man so damned much.

So it was curious, and endearing in an odd sort of way, that the simplest of things which Sabre took for granted could make Lash feel insecure and out of place - and stupid. If there was one thing Lash could not stand, it was feeling stupid.

"What did they ask you to play?"

"They didn't," Lash said, voice oddly subdued, the way it always got when he was feeling this way. He turned on his side, away from Sabre. "I saw them playing, and decided to ask for once. It set all of them off laughing, though Edge and Stiletto seemed especially entertained by my ignorance."

Sabre made a mental note to rearrange his schedule so he would be able to fight a number of duels against laughing bastards who would be taught manners the hard way.

He started to speak when there came a sharp rapping at the door. Barking an order to enter, he strode to the tray quickly deposited by a quaking servant. Ignoring the food and brandy for the moment, he took up the deck of cards also on the tray.

Cards had never been his favorite past time, he had better things to do than take money from idiots, but he knew all the games well enough thanks to fatherly insistence. Moving back to the bed, he began to shuffle the cards, the movements automatic and easy though he'd not played cards in years.

Sliding onto the bed, he sat back against the footboard and stretched his legs out. When Lash did not move, Sabre gave him a mostly gentle kick. It earned him a hard pinch, but Lash sat up, leaning against the head board.

Sabre dealt the cards, then set the remaining where they both could reach. He took his time arranging his own hand, letting Lash watch him, explaining the rules of the game he'd teach first. The easiest of the lot, and one that could be well played by only two people.

"Now," he said, keeping his voice easy, almost bland, "the last rule is that the loser of each round must discard an article of clothing."

Lash looked up from his cards, mouth quirking in a smirk much more suited to him. "Now, I know that's not a regular rule."

"House rule," Sabre said loftily, in his best spoiled aristocrat tone.

"What house is that?" Lash asked, eyes sparkling.

"Ours," Sabre replied. "I'll go first."

 

Lilacs - Well Dressed

Gene liked dressing up. He spent good, hard earned money on real suits. No one ever believed it, since he most often wore jeans and t-shirts, but he did. Part of it was his dad, whom he remembered in his pristine suits, or relaxing over dinner in vest and tie. Dignified and classy, like.

Six of his tie pins had belonged to his dad; his mother had given them to him the Christmas after dad had died. He owned way more ties than anyone, even his mother, thought healthy. The last person to fuck up his dress shoes still crossed the street whenever he saw Gene.

He didn't often dress up, because it was a lot of fucking work when people so seldom appreciated his effort, but he had fun when he did.

Of course, sometimes it behooved him to be a little more awake when he got dressed.

What could he say? It had been a long, satisfying night. Games, tequila, and sex.

So he'd gotten up late, and hadn't really been what he would call awake. He'd gotten showered and then decided on the dark blue with gray pinstripes, a gray and silver tie, shoes polished to a shine.

It totally wasn't his fault Teddy had stayed in bed and so hadn't been awake to point out that Gene had forgotten to strip off his nail polish.

Really, though, the English Department should be used to him by now.

And bright pink nail polish wasn't half so bad as the incident with the high heels freshman year.

Lilacs - House on Elm Street

"I'm not going in there," Gene said, crossing his arms across his chest and glaring at his stepbrother slash boyfriend.

Teddy had on mirrored sunglasses, but Gene could tell he was rolling his eyes anyway. "You're a baby."

"I think I was the one calling you baby, last night," Gene retorted, desperate to distract.

"Whatever you say, honey," Teddy replied in that prissy tone of voice he knew Gene hated. Honestly, why was he in a vaguely incestual relationship with a guy who knew all the ways to drive him crazy?

Teddy gave him a shove. "Dude, it's just a house. Stop being a pussy."

"Fuck you," Gene said, digging in his heels and refusing to budge an inch more. "Do you see that house? If I was holding a book on haunted houses right this instant, that house would be in it. Do you see what street we're on? Elm Street. Thank god we're not asleep, or we'd be dead."

"Oh, my god, you are the world' biggest wimp. Honestly, Gene, grow up. The house is not haunted."

"Yeah, and the tower wasn't haunted either. Screw you. I'm not going in."

"We have to go in," Teddy said with slow, careful patience. "We made an appointment to see the room. It's a good neighborhood, affordable, close to school, and that bar down the street was sporting rainbows. If you do not find your balls and put them back on, the only attention you'll be getting for the rest of the semester is self-service. Do I make myself clear?"

Heaving a long sigh, knowing Teddy would not actually go a full semester without giving him sex but would go long enough to make life quite miserable indeed, Gene finally trudged up the walkway and climbed the steps -- oh man they creaked just like in spooky houses -- and knocked on the door.

He jumped when he heard a cat meow, and glared at the evil black cat which jumped down from where it had been hiding on the porch swing.

An attempt to turn and leave, however, was only meant with a Very Displeased Teddy.

Sighing again to express just how much he was suffering for love and a cheap apartment, Gene turned and knocked.

The door creaked open slowly, and the sun was too bright for him to see clearly inside. All he really got was a vague image of an old woman -- and a waft of insanely cold air that brought back things he preferred not to think about.

He turned to flee, but Teddy yanked his arm, and pinched his ass hard. "It's the AC, you dumbas," He hissed, then turned and smiled at the nice-looking older woman who stepped outside to greet them. "We called earlier, ma'am. I'm Teddy, this is Gene."

"Yes, dears, come right inside." The woman continued chatting, Teddy keeping up easily.

Gene let him, relaxing a bit as the coldness proved to be just the AC as Teddy had said, but didn't let go of Teddy's hand until they shook hands before leaving.

"See?" Teddy said. "Perfectly harmless."

"I'm still looking it up on the ghost sights tonight when we get home," Gene muttered.

Teddy shook his head, eyes rolling behind his glasses. "You are the world's biggest baby."

"Oh, yeah, and you faced the ghosts oh so very bravely."

"Come on, baby, I'll buy you ice cream for being a good boy."

"Screw that," Gene said. "If I've been a good boy, I want to lick the ice cream off you."

Teddy shivered, but continued to try for nonchalance. "Maybe. If mom and dad aren't home."

"Oh, god, don't say that. I really hate when you bring up the whole kinda-sorta incest thing."

Teddy grinned, and reached out to pinch his ass again, this time in a playful way. "Come on, little brother, let's go get you some ice cream."

"Assole," Gene muttered. "I'm only a month younger." But he only swatted Teddy's ass lightly in return, and went along agreebaly for ice cream. Because he'd braved the stupid haunted house, and nothing was better than Teddy a la mode.

 

Decieved - Sweet Tooth

"Why do you persist in dumping extra sugar in my tea?" Rae demanded, slamming his teacup down.

Benedict smothered a grin, knowing it would be a tactical error. A few ago he weeks ago he would have said he did it just to see Rae suffer as he drank his too-sweet tea. Now, however, he had a better answer - and it would annoy Rae a great deal more. "Because I've found you out."

Rae narrowed his eyes. "Found me out?"

"Yes, quite. Between the sugar in your tea that you have never protested until now, the chocolate you drink every evening when you wind up working late, and the cake I see you try to sneak an extra slice of - you have a sweet tooth."

"I do not have a sweet tooth," Rae said, but Benedict could tell from the way he tensed that he'd gotten it right.

"Liar," he retorted. "Do you want me bring up the lemon candies you keep in your night stand? The honey drops I found behind the sealing wax in the middle left drawer of the desk?"

"Why were you in the desk?" Rae asked. "Never tell me you were doing work."

"Perish the thought, most beloved," Benedict said sweetly. "I was writing a letter to the perfumer in Westmore. Nor will you distract me from the matter of your sweet tooth."

Rae glared. "You are absurd."

"Why are you so set against it?" Benedict asked, leaning back in his chair in the lazy manner he knew Rae hated. "I think you should indulge it. Sweeten that temper of yours."

Slowly Rae stood up and moved to his side of the table, bracing his foot on Benedict's chair and shoving it back, well away from the table. Then he bent over, bracing his hands on the armrests, and loomed over Benedict. "Bored this morning? Why are we mocking me?"

"Never mocking, dear heart," Benedict said, smothering a laugh as Rae glowered over the absurd pet name. "I'm just confused as to why you try to hide it."

"There is nothing to hide," Rae said stiffly. "I do not have a sweet tooth."

Benedict tried not to stare, suddenly taken by the heat that flushed Rae's cheeks. Rae never blushed. Hell, he never turned red when he was furious and throwing things. It was...something he'd have to bring out more often. "So I should just throw away the bonbons Lady C gave me?"

Rae's eyes widened briefly before he caught himself.

"They're in my room," Benedict continued. "You know, if you want them. Though if you want to know where in my room, you'll have to tell me why you try to keep that sweet tooth a secret." He waited a moment, then went in for the kill. "Lady C said they're all filled with either strawberry cream, almond paste, or sweet cherries."

"I hate you," Rae said through his teeth. "Hate you, hate you, hate you."

Benedict smirked, triumph rushing through him. Getting the best of his lover was always heady, always thrilling. "Tell me."

"Because everyone made fun of me for it in school. A true gentleman does not adore fancy sweets," Rae said, and his gaze skittered away, cheeks flushing darker.

Well, that wouldn't do. No one upset Rae except him. Benedict leaned forward and kissed him, slow and lazy, loving the way Rae sank a hand into his hair, took control, turned the kiss hard and hot in the span of a moment. "I do like the way you hate me," he said, breathing heavily.

"Arrogant," Rae muttered.

"Look who's talking. Why don't we go explore our mutual hatred and then I'll give you the bonbons."

"Your wings need to be clipped," Rae said, but didn't protest when Benedict stood up and dragged him from the office.

Deceived - Possessive

Benedict sighed, gulped, sighed again, then finally opened the door to his room and stepped inside.

He ducked just in time to miss the glass Rae lobbed at his head, wincing at the sound of expensive crystal shattering against equally expensive rosewood paneling. "Rae-"

Another glass, and this one he had to dive to the floor to avoid.

He was a thousand times grateful Rae had a penchant for throwing, not shooting. The very thought made him cold with fear.

"Beloved-"

"Now is not the time for your stupid little endearments," Rae said furiously. "I told you once I do. Not. Share."

Benedict frowned and picked himself up off the floor. "I had no intention of sharing myself with anyone. If I'd known Lord F was going to walk up and kiss me like that, I would have vacated the premises faster than your temper flares." He realized the stupidity of saying that a moment too late, and barely avoided the book Rae pitched at him.

He waited a minute more -- but Rae now seemed content just to stand and glare. He crossed the room quickly, before Rae could think of throwing the small table he stood beside. He all but ran, lunging forward at the last and catching Rae up in his arms -- making certain Rae's were pinned.

Then he bent his head and kissed him hard, deep, possessively. "They're not stupid little endearments, you great bloody fool. I should think the fact that I would choose to come here knowing full well you were mad and would be throwing things at me, instead of going with Lord F, proves just how much I love you, Rae."

Rae opened his mouth, then closed it again. Slowly the angry tension eased from his body. "If he tries it again, I'm going to kill him. You're mine."

Benedict smiled and brushed a soft kiss across his mouth. "Yes, Hunter. You caught me, you're stuck with me."

Deceived - Reversal

Benedict nodded to the footman who took his things, then stepped into the private salon where he and Rae would sample all the perfumes and colognes they'd ordered, testing and debating....and he did enjoy these rare afternoons of theirs. No one but each other for the next three hours or so.

Except that as he entered, he realized there was a conversation going on. Rae was speaking...in a friendly tone...to someone other than him…

Glare in place, Benedict stepped into the room and suddenly understood for the first time why Rae always started throwing things when one of his former lovers approached him.

There was nothing else the man standing far too close to Rae could be. Benedict could spot a former lover practically with his eyes closed.

Of course he knew Rae must have had previous lovers. No one could know the things Rae knew, or do what he did, without one or two paramours in his past. That didn't, however, mean that one of them needed to come into their salon, on their afternoon, and speak to Rae with that much familiarity.

Benedict snarled and crossed the room. He was the one who'd gotten Rae. He was the one who got glasses and books thrown at his head every other day. He was the one who got to stand that close. "Rae."

Rae looked up at him, clearly startled by the chilly tone. "Benedict," he said slowly. "You're late."

"I was kept overlong. You know how Lord Q goes on and on." Benedict couldn't help the ice in his voice. "I see you found other amusements."

Ah, there was the anger. Rae smiled in a way that promised Benedict would pay and pay dearly for his obnoxiousness. "Highness," he said, reverting to formality. "This is Brian Demore, an old friend from school. He was just telling me he's finally proposed to a girl we used to harass on a daily basis."

"Highness," Brian said, mirth in his eyes as he watched the two of them. "It is indeed an honor to meet you. Rae speaks often of you in his letters. I would stay longer, but I'm afraid the girl in question is waiting for me, and I am running late. Good day to you. Rae." He vanished quickly from the room.

Benedict blinked. "You write about me? To a former paramour?"

Rae glared at him, hand going to a bronze figurine sitting on a small side table. "Bene, we are friends. We were paramours, as you say, for all of one night. Now," he moved suddenly, quickly, and only experience with his tantrums allowed Benedict to duck in time. The heavy bronze crashed into the wood behind him, and Benedict cringed at the bill that would be coming his way in the next few days. "Why are you being such a bloody arse?"

Benedict reached out and snagged his wrists before Rae could cost him anything more. "I'm the only one who can stand that close to you and live to tell about it."

Rae only glared. "Not at the rate you're going. Are you saying you don't trust me?"

"Oh, right. If that had been Lord F-"

"Mention him again and you will see what happens when someone stands this close to me." The words were a promise, not a threat.

"So you're allowed to be jealous of my former lovers, even though you know why I bedded them, but I'm not allowed to be jealous of your former paramours when I know nothing about them or why you had them to begin with?"

Rae only glared more furiously than ever, and tried in vain to jerk his wrists free. "I've had four lovers in my life, Bene - that's what, a tenth of what you've had? A twentieth? They all chose different people. I chose you. Now let me go or you will find out just how much damage my boot can do to your-"

Benedict cut him off with a kiss, suddenly in a very good mood. "I do love you, Rae."

"You are mad, and don't think you're out of trouble yet," Rae hissed, but his struggles, as Benedict leaned in to kiss him again, were token at best, and neither noticed a few minutes later when the master perfumer stepped inside - then immediately turned around again and locked the door behind him.

Deceived - Always

Benedict frowned as he entered his room and was greeted only with silence.

He looked around cautiously, expecting to be ambushed by the contents of his bookcase flying at full speed, aimed for his head. He couldn't recall doing anything wrong, but that didn't mean anything.

Instead he found only Rae sitting glumly by the fire. Well, Rae had come here -- that was a good sign. Nothing was worse than when Rae went back to his own room, which was so rarely used now it collected dust.

"Rae?" he asked softly, stopping to discard the bulk of his cumbersome evening clothes. Gods above he hated all the formal dinners and parties that plagued his life. Now that he had flat out refused to continue playing the role of royal whore, he had very little need to attend any of them.

Still, his family persisted. He supposed they hoped he'd grow tired of his secretary and return to his 'usual self'. Well, not happening. Though he would never have thought in a million years that his foul-tempered secretary would be the one to capture him so, he was not complaining...except the fact that Rae still had not moved. He sat staring into the fire, as if utterly lost to his thoughts.

"Rae?" Benedict repeated, collecting the small box he'd brought with him. He'd ordered it last week, but had insisted they take their time and do the job properly. Nothing less than absolute perfection would suffice. Cautiously, expecting the storm to erupt any moment, Benedict knelt down in front of Rae and looked at him in concern. Six months. Six months now they had lasted. He'd never had a lover more than two weeks, and that one he had dropped as soon as his parents had gotten what they wanted. Rae...all he wanted these days was to hold his Hunter and never let go. "Whatever is the matter?"

Rae said nothing, merely set his brandy down with a clink on the table and picked up a sheaf of papers. "Your parents gave these to me this morning, and told me to begin going over them with you. Highness."

Benedict frowned and took the papers - then began swearing profusely. "Bastards! No wonder they've been nice to me all day." He stared at them, then looked back up at Rae, who had returned to staring into the fire. "Why aren't you throwing things at my head?"

"You were bound to have to get married, Bene," Rae said tiredly. As if there was no fight left in him. Benedict didn't approve one bit He preferred Rae when he was breaking the most expensive objects in the room. "She will be here next week so that you two might meet. A fine princess, I hear, and they say she even has a bit of a temper. I'm sure you'll adore her."

If Rae wasn't going to get angry, then Benedict would. "So that's it. All we've been through - our rough start, all the fights we've had, defying my family and everyone else and now you're giving up because my family thinks they can marry me off?" Benedict set down his gift before he did something stupid, like throw it. "You're usually so smart, Rae. Why are you choosing now to be so stupid?"

There was the fire he knew and loved, sparking from deep within those dark brown eyes. "Excuse me?" Rae said icily, hand tightening around his brandy glass. "You are a prince of the realm, you great big idiot. It is one thing to refuse all other potential paramours because of me; it is quite another to refuse a marriage."

Benedict snorted. "You're the one being stupid. Do you honestly think my family really wants me to marry?"

"She is, so far as political matches, utterly perfect."

"Bloody moron, today, aren't you? They don't care about that. The things she'd bring to a marriage, my beloved fool, are things we could aware far more cheaply by other routes. The ports, the trade agreements and all the rest of it. Anything is cheaper than a marriage, trust me. They're trying to get rid of you, Rae. Everyone knows how possessive you are. Lord B is still recovering from the bookend you threw at him. If they force my hand, they think it will get rid of you."

Rae glared at the mention of Lord B. "Bastard. If he tries it again, I'll do far more than a simple book end."

The book end in question has been mostly wood -- but with some marble. Luckily Lord B had ducked and missed the worst of it. "So you love me enough to harm Lord B but you give up at the mention of marriage?" Benedict asked.

"You are a prince, even if you're a lazy one," Rae said slowly. "As I said before, marriage is different. Countries have gone to war for less than a refused marriage, Bene. That doesn't mean..." he grimaced and slumped further in his seat. "Obviously you have not been in the office today."

Benedict quirked a brow at that, and suddenly started to feel much better. So Rae had completely destroyed the office in his rage? He hid a grin, feeling far finer than simply 'much better'. He reached down and retrieved the box he'd set aside. "Here. These are for you."

"What for?" Rae asked, frowning at the green box tied with a yellow ribbon.

"I like buying you things," Benedict said, smiling when Rae only eyed him uncertainly. So suspicious, Rae, of things given to him for no apparent reason. The very reason Benedict liked doing it - everyone else he'd ever been with expected things, thought they were entitled to them. Never mind what they'd wanted - the things only a prince could buy. He shoved the unpleasant memories aside.

Carefully Rae untied the ribbon, and then unthinkingly held it to his nose, breathing in the scent of it. "Amber and rose," he murmured, the ghost of a smile slipping briefly across his face. He lifted the lid and blinked. "Fruit?"

Benedict laughed softly. "Try a slice of orange."

Eying him as though he were crazy, Rae nevertheless obeyed and picked up a slice - immediately realizing something wasn't right. Biting into it, his eyes immediately widened. "Marzipan," he said, and licked traces of sugar and almonds from his lips. "They're all made of marzipan. I've never seen any of such quality…" he looked at the box, then at Benedict. "You don't have to buy me sweets, Bene."

Benedict rolled his eyes, moved the box to the table - right on top of the stupid marriage contract - and leaned up between Rae's legs to kiss him soundly, wrapping his arms around Rae's waist. He was warm from the fire, mouth flavored with brandy and almonds, and Rae for the time being seemed more than happy to keep the kiss at a slow, steady burn. "Do you love me, Hunter?" he asked when the kiss finally ended.

"Always, pretty bird," Rae answered softly.

Benedict smiled and stole another soft, quick kiss, then reached into the box of candy and pulled out a marzipan cherry and pressed it to Rae's lips. The way Rae lit up over something as simple as sweets was something he would never grow tired of watching. He knew too many people who were insulted if they received less than emeralds and diamonds.

Those lips were too tempting, and Benedict leaned up again to lap traces of marzipan from them. "So what did you do to the study?"

Rae's cheeks burned the faintest bit pink, and Benedict's mood improved a thousand-fold to know just how upset Rae had truly been. "I might have gotten carried away."

Benedict threw his head back and laughed. "I cannot wait to see. Unnecessary, Rae, for no matter how much my family screams - I want you and no other."

Fingers sank into his hair, a gesture that made him shiver no matter how often it was done, and Rae tilted his head just so, leaning down to kiss him hard, sharing the taste of sugar and brandy, and the flavors were almost as seductive as the scent of amber and musk that clung to him. "Good. I no longer feel like conceding defeat. The idiot princess had best not show her face, if she values keeping it pretty for whomever she does marry."

Benedict said nothing, merely smiled as Rae returned to kissing him.

Deceived - Rumors not exaggerated

"You are Prince Ian's companion, are you not?" Rae asked, sensing a possible comrade but unwilling to get his hopes up. To flounce about in a mask was one thing…he did not belong at such affairs otherwise. Bene's lover or not, he was still little more than middleclass.

"Yes," the man said slowly, stiffly, as if suspecting some cutting remark. "You are Master Burroughs."

"Quite so. I have heard you excel at knocking sense into the younger noble heads."

The man laughed briefly. "I try. As we are on the subject of rumors, how exaggerated, if you will pardon any impertinence, are those surrounding your temper?"

Rae snorted, the mention of his temper making him look for Benedict, who had been dragged way for Diplomatic Purposes - though those purposes had better not involve-

He snarled and acted before he thought, hefting a candle stick on the buffet table and pitching it across the room. Some bloody arse shoved Princess Y out of the way just in time.

Benedict looked his way and smiled, then bowed to those with whom he stood before crossing the stark silent ballroom and planted a kiss on Rae's mouth.

"I warned that strumpet," Rae said, refusing to feel guilty or embarrassed. He'd caught the little bitch trying something just before dinner. He'd warned her. She hadn't listened. When would everyone finally except that Benedict was his?

"Yes, beloved," Benedict said. He turned and looked at the man with whom Rae had been speaking, smiling in greeting at the dark-haired man who joined the three. "Prince Ian. Master Tobias. Would you care to join us for a game of whist? I sense we four will get on quite well."

Prince Ian flashed a smile. "That would be splendid. Especially as after that little scene, the rest of the night will seem quite boring."

Deceived - Escape

Rae snarled in warning as he stepped onto the wide balcony, leaving the ballroom behind.

He'd let Lord L take Bene somewhere quiet for a 'private word' but he'd known the man was lying through his teeth.

When would people figure out that Benedict belonged to him?

Even if it hadn't been his plan at the time, by the end of the second night it was the only thing he'd wanted, though he'd tried hard not to admit it. Against all the bloody odds, he'd somehow wound up with Benedict as his lover.

As his. End of sentence.

When would they damnable bastards get that and cease with their machinations?

Sometimes he wondered how many of them were put up to it by the King and Queen, who had accepted their son's defiance with much displeasure - but Benedict had stunned everyone by continuing to defy them. Those first weeks had been a nightmare, and more than once they'd nearly given in and called it off.

They'd survived.

Benedict was his and Lord L was about to be reminded of that.

The bastard in question turned from where he was standing far too close to Benedict, who looked weary and angry by the transparent attempts to entice him. If Rae had left well enough alone, Benedict would have solved the problem neatly and tidily.

Rae didn't want neatly and tidily.

He wanted blood.

"Burroughs," Lord L said with undisguised rudeness.

"I believe," Rae said, forcing his teeth to unclench, "that you have been told before that you are to keep to yourself and away from what is mine."

Lord L laughed. "That temper…" He clucked and turned back to Benedict. "Highness, I wish you would see the reason in my argument."

"I told you to bugger off," Benedict said.

Mouth tight, obviously displeased, Lord L stepped forward and placed a hand on Benedict's arm. "But you must realize-"

"I told you not to touch him again," Rae said angrily. He was overreacting, he knew he was, his nasty temper had always been at its worst when it came to his lovers - especially this one, for Benedict was so much more than a simple lover.

Lord L sneered. "Going to throw something else at me?"

"Oh, I'm going to throw something all right," Rae promised, voice ominously soft.

Too late Lord L figured out what that could possibly mean, and he attempted to get away - but anger and jealousy made Rae quick, and before the man could do more than let out a startled yelp, Rae grabbed and pitched him over the side, hearing the satisfying sound of an imbecile yelping in pain as he landed in her Majesty's roses.

Benedict smiled faintly. "Just had to outdo the champagne incident, didn't you?"

"Shut up," Rae snapped. "Must I lock you in your room to get any sort of peace and quiet?" He sighed heavily and turned sharply away, stomping back through the ballroom and out of it, into the crowded hallways, tension easing only when he'd finally made it to Benedict's rooms.

Their rooms, really, except Rae was never allowed to forget that he was just a commoner, even if he was Benedict's paramour.

No one seemed to think of them as more than that - paramours, lovers, with the unspoken understanding that eventually it would end. That, more than anything, drove him to lobbing heavy objects at interlopers, pitching obnoxious fools off balconies.

Could none of them see they were more than that? Benedict had never brought anyone to his room back when he'd seduced all and sundry at the bidding of his family. They both faced constant ridicule and harassment. Did everyone think they faced that for something as trivial as an impermanent liaison?

The sound of the door opening and closing revived the tension in his back and shoulders and he let another long, sad sigh as a hand landed gently on the small of his back, turned him so that he was pressed up against soft velvet, surrounded by the smell of myrtle, apple blossom, and the amber that seemed to cling always to Benedict. He breathed it in, tension fading away as Benedict simply held him.

"I am sorry," Benedict said, voice low. Guilty.

Rae pinched him and looked up with a glare. "If I were mad at you, you would know it. I am not, so do not make stupid apologies."

Benedict smiled faintly, some of the shadows in his eyes fading. "Yes, beloved."

Rolling his eyes at the endearment, something that had started out as a taunt but somewhere along the way turned serious, Rae reached up to sink his hand in Benedict's hair. The gesture was as natural to them as breathing now, so too the way Benedict immediately bent to kiss him.

Rae immediately took control of it, feeding his anger and hurt into it, taking Benedict's mouth, bruising his lips, and he would feel guilty except Benedict matched the fury, and arms around Rae's were nearly tight enough to affect his breathing

He broke the kiss with a force of will. "I suppose I should absent myself from the palace for a time."

Benedict grinned. "Actually, if you've decided to start throwing people, I've a whole list for you."

"I wish you were half so enthusiastic about your work," Rae groused, but there was no heat behind it. He gave in to an impulse to taste Benedict's throat, feeling his anger fall to emotions that only his prince could stir.

The moan Benedict gave him was a balm, a sound that he was determined none but he would ever hear from Bene again.

Satin-gloved hands smoothed around his hips, then one slid up to tangle in Rae's hair while the other slid down to cup his ass, pull him closer. Rae hummed his approval and yanked impatiently at the neck cloth keeping him from more of Bene's delectable throat.

"Bed," Benedict said hoarsely.

Rae smirked briefly, thinking of what they'd done in the office yesterday without the services of a bed, but allowed Benedict to herd him toward the massive oak bed decked in blue.

His boot caught on the rug as they were nearly there, and with a startled cry he stumbled back, sending them both landing awkwardly on the edge of the bed.

Benedict chuckled and Rae made a face. "I'm glad there will never be a reason for you to carry me over any threshold," he retorted.

That only made Benedict laugh harder. "No, beloved, you'd be much more likely to throw me over it."

Rae glared and abruptly surged forward, shoving Benedict down on the bed, pinning his wrists. The scent of amber was thick and heavy here - Benedict's scent, pleasure's scent. Mingled faintly with it was the almond and sugar smell of the marzipan Benedict had fed him, bit by torturous bit, the night before. "If you hadn't noticed, brat, I am more than happy to throw people around."

"I noticed," Benedict said, eyes full of a warm fondness that Rae could not recall seeing in the eyes of anyone but his family - and his family's eyes did not hold that additional heat.

How, Rae still wondered from time to time. How had they gone from wanting to kill each other to laughing at their own clumsiness, to teasing one another? He knew, and yet sometimes he wasn't so certain he did. Three brief nights should not result in such drastic changes.

But they had. Even now, two years later, Benedict still possessed that last mask Rae had worn - emerald green decorated with teardrop amber.

Still holding Bene's wrists, Rae bent down to kiss him, slow and soft and thorough, different from the harder, hungry kiss of before but just as drugging. From that very first kiss Benedict had been more intoxicating than the finest brandy, more potent than any drug. His lips were soft, warm, startlingly pliant - it had always taken his breath how willingly Bene submitted to him.

Oh, not always, that would be boring…but Bene liked the way he took control, especially their kisses.

Rae did not disappoint, kissing his lover until breathing became absolutely necessary, drinking in the sight of the wet, swollen lips, the passion-dark eyes, trailing eyes slowly down the fine, lean body - still regrettably clothed - to the unmistakable evidence of Bene's desire. As if it wasn't apparent anyway. Smirking, he released his hold on Bene's wrists and cupped his hardness, pressing firmly before trailing his fingers lightly along the length, smirking all the while. "Do we still want to talk about my habit of throwing things?"

"Yes," Bene gasped, bucking beneath his touch. "However, we can set the discussion aside for a later time, if you prefer."

"I prefer," Rae murmured. Abruptly he let go and slid off the bed, stepping back. He shrugged out of his jacket and gave Benedict a look. "Undress."

Benedict grinned and moved to obey, shrugging out of his jacket and tossing it carelessly aside before going to work on the studs of his shirt, eyes on Rae the entire time.

Rae returned the hot look, then let his gaze stray to lap up every new piece of flesh laid bare to him. Old jealously tried to stir, reminding him that more than few pairs of eyes had seen this very sight, just as countless pairs of hands had touched the body he would soon take.

It was there his jealousy - he admitted, not his finest trait - always was soothed. Bene had ever been the seducer, the one in control. Only one person had ever possessed the prince, and Rae would do terrible, terrible things to any fool he caught thinking about it.

He wondered if any of them were suitably grateful for the fact that he could not read minds.

Probably not. Idiots, every last one them.

At last free of the aggravating layers of clothing that society required be donned, Rae returned to the man waiting eagerly for him. Though Benedict was every inch a prince, with the sort of schedule and preferences that only the rich and seemingly idle could afford - he had long ago learned that Benedict was far from the idle sort. When not doing his family's bidding, Benedict had often escaped into hunting or riding, even swimming.

The physical activity had given him a fine, trim and muscular form that much of the nobility lacked. Rae never tired of the sight, of making the muscles ripple and strain beneath his amorous assaults.

Hands wrapped lightly around his hips, smoothing around to cup his ass, and Rae moaned low as he took another kiss, this one hard and hot, making the hands exploring him stutter briefly to a halt.

He bit down on Bene's bottom lips as he pulled away, feeling the faintest hint of stubble as he tasted Bene's jaw before exploring neck and throat, tasted one fine shoulder before dipping his head to nip sharply at one nipple, then licked it slowly before moving to repeat the torture with the other.

"Rae," Benedict gasped his name, long and slow.

Smirking, Rae continued the assault, pausing only to gloat - but it came out a startled hiss instead as a hand wrapped firmly around his cock, tugging hard, and when he was able to speak again he glared. "Behave."

"No," Benedict said with a mischievous grin, stroking him slowly, free hand running up Rae's thigh, his side, splaying across his back to hit the spot there that always made Rae shudder.

Swearing, Rae leaned down and bit him hard on one shoulder, making Bene yelp, his hand falter.

"Behave," Rae repeated, and was able to twist free enough to reach the bedside table, fumble with the glass jar there.

The scent of amber, already heavy, thickened even more, oil glistening on Rae fingers as he returned, shining wetly on Bene's thighs as Rae spread them wide and settled between them. He teased lightly along the length of Bene's cock, oil mingling with the wet proof of Bene's passion. Rae's own breathing grew heavier as he rolled Bene's sac, the sounds that elicited more necessary than air and he tore his eyes from the sight of his hands on Bene only to look into the pleasure-glazed eyes staring back at him, a hungry need on Bene's face that was Rae's alone to feed.

Making a low, rough noise, Rae leaned forward to kiss him, loving the soft lips that moved beneath his, the tongue that tangled with his own, Bene as greedy for his taste as he was for the prince's.

He reached blindly for more oil, hearing it spill but not caring as he had managed to get enough, pulling away from the kiss only to push Bene's thighs far enough apart to strain, liking the way it made his legs tremble with the effort, liking even more the way Bene grasped the headboard and rolled his hips, eagerly riding the finger that Rae slipped inside him, crying out when one quickly became two.

Yes. Such tight heat, such fine hunger and need. No one else's. Lord L might be the favored beau, and highly sought after - but it was Rae Benedict had chosen, with Rae he stood in defiance, and Rae's name he was gasping in that low and needy voice.

Satisfaction and a burning need to claim thrummed through him, and Rae pulled his fingers out, quickly slicking his own cock before slowly pushing into that tight heat, groaning low as Benedict pushed back.

Never hesitant, his lover, not here.

Rae wasted no time increasing the fervor and pace, thrusts fast and hard and sure, Benedict moving easily with the demanding rhythm, eyes watching steadily throughout, burning with emotions they seldom bothered to name, never needing to. Rae leaned down and kissed him hard, the heady kiss matching the rhythm of their bodies, until he tore away to gasp for breath. He wrapped a hand around Benedict's cock and stroked it hard, fast. "Now, pretty bird."

"Hunter!" Benedict came, heat spilling over Rae's hand, across his stomach, body clamping down tight and Rae shouted his own climax, spilling deep into his prince's body. He collapsed with a long groan, moving only some indeterminate time later when Benedict slid away.

Grumbling disapproval, he looked up to express it when Benedict returned with a cloth to clean them up, and displeasure faded away entirely once they were once more tangled together in bed.

Benedict tugged on the cords that held the drapes open, leaving them in a dark, warm nest that smelled of amber and marzipan, salt and musk, faint traces of apple blossom and myrtle from Benedict's perfume. Rae breathed it in, and pressed a soft kiss to Benedict's jaw.

"We should go away for awhile," Benedict said softly into the darkness, idly stroking Rae's back.

Rae snorted. "A nice idea, but I don't see it working." Benedict's family wanted him where they could attempt to take him away from Rae.

He felt the laughter in Benedict's chest before he heard it, but the mischievous tone to it caught him by surprise. "We could run away. Perhaps off to a nice, secluded place in the mountains. Maybe a hunting lodge that's fallen into neglect now it's become unfashionable…"

"Bene…" Rae stirred, sitting up slightly, tugging lightly at the hairs on Benedict's chest, frowning even though he knew Bene couldn't see the expression.

But gentle fingers unerringly found his lips in the dark, tracing them fondly, before sliding around to tug him back down to lie on Benedict's chest. He could feel a strong and steady heartbeat beneath the warm skin. "I've been quietly arranging it," Bene said softly into the dark. "All is ready, we could leave tonight if we really wanted. If they want me that badly, maybe they'll learn to behave and stop upsetting you."

The heartbeat beneath him had increased to a furious pace, betraying the anxiety that years of training and practice kept from Benedict's voice and manner. Rae's beat just as quickly.

It was on the tip of his tongue to ask if Benedict was certain, but he knew Benedict wouldn't suggest such a thing idly - and he'd apparently made all the arrangements.

To just leave it all behind for a time…no one to spark his temper other than Bene, no one judging and haranguing… He shifted, rose just enough that he could feel Benedict's breath, knew it mingled with his own. "Tomorrow," he said softly. "I can at least set your affairs in order for them."

"Tomorrow, then," Benedict said the words lightly, but he nearly vibrated with the same elation that was filling Rae.

Rae closed the remaining space between them and kissed Benedict with aching slowness, savoring every bit of it, dizzy with the knowledge that his pretty bird had contrived to escape - with and because of his Hunter.

One Summer Day

"It's hot today," Rae said, wiping his brow. He tethered his horse and lightly stroked her nose before turning to look out over the lake.

They were about three miles or so from the hunting lodge, spending the day riding, Benedict showing him the area. Before leaving they'd packed a lunch, and as he looked out over the lake before Rae rather thought it was about time to eat.

"So what do you think?" Benedict asked, fingers touching Rae's hip lightly as he joined him at the edge of the lake.

Rae smiled. "Beautiful," he said. The lake was blue, the sky bluer still, all of it trimmed with the lush green of the forest. Lips brushed lightly over his throat and he laughed softly. "So I guess we'll stop for lunch here, then?"

He could feel Bene's smile against his throat, the chuckles warm breaths of air against his skin. "That depends on what I can have for lunch," Bene said, hands curving around Rae's sides to rest flat on his chest and stomach, the mouth at his throat becoming more intent.

"Hungry?" Rae asked, fighting a laugh. This was their sixth day away from the palace. Six days away from that stifling gilded cage. Six long, wonderful days so far in which they'd not had to hide or fight from Bene's family.

Never had he seen Bene happier, and seeing that made him the happiest man alive. Rae leaned back against his lover, tilting his head to grant Bene better access, thoughts of food vanishing beneath a hunger for something else entirely.

"Maybe in a bit," Bene murmured in his ear before. Then he abruptly pulled away, hand tangling with Rae's tugging him along the edge of the lake to a small ledge just hanging out over the water. "Do you like it?"

Rae watched Bene as he stared out over the lake. "Quite," he murmured.

Bene turned to smile at him - and caught him staring. "Oh," he said, looking almost boyish as he smiled. Rae had never seen his lover so light-hearted…he hoped from now one he would always see it.

Returning the bright smile, Rae dragged Bene down and kissed him deeply, intoxicated on the scent of amber and forest, the rich flavor of his lover.

"I don't believe I've ever seen you outside for so long, beloved," Bene said as he pulled back, chuckling, green eyes jewel-bright with mirth. "Are you certain you'll survive outside your office? With no paperwork?"

Rae pinched him. "I would if you would give me something better to do."

"Mm," Bene said. "I'll give you more than you can handle."

"Oh?" Rae said, smirking. "We'll see."

Narrowing his eyes, Bene bent and kissed him hard.

Rae immediately took it over, sinking his hands into Bene's soft hair, then wrapping his arms tightly around Bene's neck, holding him as close as he possibly could, possessing every last bit of that addictive mouth.

The world spun and then he was being pressed down upon the grass, legs spread as Benedict settled between them, a hard heat pressing against his own, making him groan because there was entirely too much cloth between them.

"So tell me, beloved," Bene asked, teeth grazing his throat. "How does it feel to go six days without throwing anything at someone's head?"

Rae bit at Bene's lower lip. "Four," he murmured, feeling his cheeks flush slightly. "I overheard someone at that first inn plotting to make you 'an offer you couldn't refuse.'

Bene paused in the process of undoing buttons to look at him-then threw his head back and laughed.

"Shut up," Rae muttered, and attempted to shove him off.

Instead, Bene merely kissed him again and went back to removing clothes.

Rae broke the kiss and began to help, groaning every time they pressed together. "We are far too old to do this in the grass like young bucks, Bene."

"Hmm, I do not think so. Not when you look so very devastating spread out on the grass, beloved. I bet you'd look even better wet from a swim."

Shivering at the idea of a soaking wet Benedict, Rae pushed away the bothersome jacket and shirt keeping him from properly appreciating Bene's chest and shoulders. When the fabric was finally tossed aside, he immediately set to appreciating with mouth and hands. "I hope you brought something, if you're planning on giving me more than I can handle."

Bene rumbled low and attacked his throat, nipping hard and then lapping at the mark. "Of course," he replied, then licked at Rae's lips before taking a deep kiss

Rae moaned and took it over, even as he bent his legs to bring Bene closer, hold him tighter. Rare was the occasion Bene took the lead, took him. He frowned when Bene broke the kiss and pulled back - but then the scent of amber blended with grass and trees and fresh water, making him moan all over again.

Warm hands smoothed over his thighs, then he felt the cool slick of Bene's amber-scented oil. It warmed quickly as Bene pressed one finger inside him, easing the burn to a pleasant ache. Rae groaned and tugged Bene back down far enough to put his mouth to one of those fine shoulders, nipping and lapping at the skin, eager for every taste of his lover he could get.

The heat of summer did nothing to help, making their skin slick with sweat, caused his hair to stick to his neck and forehead with a maddening itch. It wasn't however, distracting enough to draw him away from the maddening skill of Bene's fingers as one became two, stretching him, making him need. "Bene…"

Bene bit down sharply on nipple, adding a third finger, chuckling as Rae swore. He shifted to take a kiss, swallowing Rae's curses and feeding him laughter. "More than you can take, beloved?"

Rae dug his nails into Bene's back and rode the fingers torturing him. "Stop teasing or I will go for a swim and leave you here to take care of yourself."

"Mm, you'd probably watch," Bene said with a smirk.

"Shut up," Rae snapped, though it was true. "Now, Bene."

Bene grinned and obeyed, removing his fingers and slowly, torturously pressing inside, eyes fastened on Rae's face.

Rae gasped and dug his nails in deep, head falling back on the grass as he let his lover in, panting as Bene entered him fully and hot lips trailed wet kisses along his throat and shoulder. "Move."

"Always so bossy," Bene said with a laugh. "It's a wonder to me you are not the prince."

Snarling, Rae bucked up, making Bene shudder. "Now."

"Yes," Bene gasped out, then obediently began to move, immediately moving fast and sure and Rae sensed he would be quite sore because really they should be too old to fool around so carelessly in the open but then Bene drove in hard and he forgot about everything but heat and movement, the site of his lover lost to both, moving above him, eyes fastened on Rae.

He dragged Bene down for a kiss, taking control of it even as Bene controlled the pace of their love-making. He came hard screaming his lover's name, feeling the rush of wet heat as Bene followed him. He shuddered in the aftermath, Bene hot and sweaty on top of him.

With a grunt he rolled them, forcing Bene to lie on the grass, nibbling idly at his shoulder as he settled on top of his prince. "That wasn't more than I can handle," he said with a smirk when he trusted his voice to obey him.

Bene's laughter rumbled in his chest. "The day isn't over yet, dear heart." He turned Rae's head to kiss him long and slow - then shoved him off and stood up.

Swearing, Rae stood up beside him. "What is your-"

"There's an island in the center of the lake," Bene said, pointing. "I bet you'd look wicked on all fours in the center of it."

Rae smirked, immediately following Bene's thoughts. "Not if I beat you to it," he replied, as Bene had known he would - then bolted to the ledge and dove into the water, barely noticing the shocking cold of it as he raced Bene to the island.

From Afar - A Pale and Distant Star

Dearest Pierce,

You steal my breath.

These are words I do not doubt you hear every day from persons far brighter and closer than I, yet I can only speak the simple truth. So many duels have I witnessed, and not one of those duelists has ever displayed a portion of the fire which drives you.

It intoxicates, the way you move, the way you push yourself to greater heights, drive your opponents back, taking no quarter and claiming your victory.

Such beauty takes my breath and stirs my blood to feverish levels. The effect you have upon me is hard to confine to mere words upon a page. I watch the way you move, see the exertion that soaks your clothes to the point that fine body is almost indecently revealed, and wish I was closer. Even at a distance I can see the fire that flashes in your eyes, and I wonder if I would burn should I manage to close the space between us.

To be the reason for that fire…ah, for a single night such as that, I would give up all that I possess. I see you duel, see you claim your victories, and wish that I could show you how it stirs me, the passion and affection that are yours alone, the pride and adoration.

Such a fine thing it would be to return to your chambers, to lay bare that fine body you have honed to perfection and explore every bit of it. To put my hands upon you and feel the hard muscle, the warm skin, the desire I wish I stirred in you…to replace hands with mouth and begin my explorations anew, tasting the sweat and musk of happy exertion…

What would you feel like beneath my touch? Is your skin soft, or roughened from all that time you spend out doors? Are the muscles beneath merely firm or hard as stone? Would you lay beneath me, content to be ravaged after claiming so thorough a victory in your duel? Or would you prefer to take me in yet another victory for the night?

The thought of being buried inside you leaves me hard and aching; it is difficult to pen these words when I want only to take myself in hand, imagine how you would look consumed by passion, wishing I was there to see it, that you would call my name as you found release as I say yours alone in my room.

Yet I continue to write, the same way I would continue to torment you with pleasure, keeping you from release until you so sweetly begged for it. That would be a pretty sight indeed.

Better still, however, is the thought of being the one taken. To know you want me, want to claim me, that I stir in you a fire greater than even that brought on by a rapier…

That would be perfection.

Alas, I shall have to content myself with the knowledge that perhaps my simple words stir your blood the slightest bit, as I am destined ever to remain-

Watching From Afar,
A pale and distant star

From Afar - The Other St. Rose

Silver frowned and scratched out the last sentence he had written.

This bloody paper was not cooperating with him at all.

Of course, if he were going to be honest, it was entirely his own fault - his mind would much rather think of the fact that once Pierce returned from his duels they would be heading out to his yacht for a week.

None but the two of them, and thinking of it ruined any chance he had of finishing his paper for the day. With a sigh he set his quill aside and fussed with his papers.

Only a few weeks ago he had assumed he would be spending his summer locked away in this very library putting the finishing touches on the paper he would be presenting to the academy. He had fully intended to do exactly that, deviating only occasionally to gaze wistfully at the yacht that would either be leaving or returning to port, catching snatches of Pierce here and there.

Now his sister was engaged to Seymour and Pierce had made it very clear what he intended to do once they were finally completely and utterly alone - no shrieking females to make them go for yet another fitting, no friends to come and ask if it was true Pierce had finally put the question to his sister, he was going to kill whoever had started that rumor.

He looked up at the sound of several pairs of feet stomping noisily toward him, and coolly regarded the men who approached.

"St. Rose," Mathews greeted, sitting down without so much as a by your leave, close enough their thighs brushed and Silver jerked irritably away.

Except suddenly he was pinned from the other side as well, sandwiched between two lumbering oxen on the bench he'd taken, with two more occupying the chairs on the other side of the table.

A heavy arm fell across his shoulders and he picked up his pen knife. "Winthrop, unhand me at once or I shall be forced to take extreme measures."

The arm vanished. "Alright, St. Rose, alright," Winthrop said lightly. "You always were a tetchy fellow."

He was not tetchy. Silver tried not to let the words sting, and set the pen knife down with a frown. "What do you lot want? Can you not see I was attempting to get some work done? Go bother someone else."

"Ah, but St. Rose," said one from the other side of the table - Van Moore - with a teasing pout. "You are the one we wanted to see. Is it true Fairfax has finally succumbed to your sister's wiles? A lovely thing, your sister, but of course-"

"But of course you would not speak so crassly about my sister, so I'm certain I did not just hear you speak," Silver said coldly, glaring at all of them. "If you have come here to be rude, then I suggest you take yourselves off again, gentlemen."

The fourth man, Islington, gave an aggrieved sigh. "Come off it, St. Rose, you know we mean no harm. Must you always be so uptight? We mean no offense, of course. I think we all have been madly in love with your sister at one point or another. It is hard to take that we never stood a chance, if she has finally managed to rope Fairfax into making a long overdue offer."

Silver's glare did not ease. "My sister is not getting married to Pierce, you great big imbeciles, and I will thank you not to continue spreading such idiocy about. She is marrying an old childhood friend of ours, and they are quiet besotted with each other."

"Now lay off," Winthrop said, once more settling a hand on his shoulder, ignoring Silver's look. "We've been hearing everywhere that Pierce has finally taken up with St. Rose, and what the devil else is that supposed to mean?"

He tried not to be hurt, because after all hadn't he always kept his distance? Never had he given any indication as to his feelings for the man who seemed never to spare him a second look because Silver had been confounded as to how to attract him.

Oh, the times he had envied his sister for her ability to talk and charm…

"I'm certain I couldn't imagine," Silver said bitterly. "Now-"

"Last I checked, gentlemen," Pierce said, and Silver jerked around to see Pierce standing behind them. "There were two St. Rose children, and while the sister is lovely…" He smiled, and Silver's ire faded away beneath the knowledge that warm smile was solely for him. "She is only my friend."

"Pierce," Silver said, wishing he could say more, but as ever his tongue hated him.

Before Pierce could reply, the entire table erupted into laughter and a few suggestive comments for which he would shortly be going for his penknife if they did not desist.

Rough hands clapped his shoulders and back.

"Well, why didn't you simply say, St. Rose! Speak up next time! Pierce, stop taking all the pretty ones for yourself! First you charm the sister and now you have taken the brother. Leave a St. Rose for the rest of us."

Pierce grinned and moved close enough Silver could smell him, touch him. "Now, now, Cress and I are just friends. And what Silver and I do is none of your business, miscreants."

The laughter erupted again, and Silver felt his cheeks burn. "Pierce," he hissed.

He merely got another grin, and warm fingers sliding across his cheek. "Ready to go, Silver?"

"Yes," Silver said fervently, scribbling a note for the clerk who always assisted him to have his things packed up and sent back to his room. He glared his way free of the men crowding him and finally reached Pierce - his heart still tripping over itself at the way Pierce held out a hand, and held his so firmly, and drew him just the slightest bit closer than propriety dictated.

He barely noticed the way the ruckus around them had faded, eyes only for the man he'd always loved, and who was now somehow his.

"Get any work done?" Pierce asked softly.

Silver shook his head, mouth quirking. "No. Someone planted distracting ideas in my head. I'm horribly behind in my work now, Pierce."

Pierce grinned. "Then I guess I'd better make it up to you. Come along, my star, our yacht awaits."

Flushing, hideously embarrassed as always when any reference to his idiotic letters came up, Silver allowed Pierce to drag him away, the men who'd been harassing him forgotten entirely.

From Afar - Writers vs. Readers

"Darling, you have become positively unromantic," Cressida declared, snapping open her fan and fluttering it just so in front of her face, eyes sparking mischief.

Never a good thing. Silver repressed a groan as he wondered what, precisely, his sister was up to now.

Seymour quirked a brow from where he was playing a casual game of chess with Pierce - who was losing, but charmingly, or Silver thought so. "I'm fairly certain I was quite romantic last night, sweet."

"La!" Cress replied, waving her pink and gold lace fan dismissively in the air. "You do not write me letters anymore. I miss them. What of your sonnets?"

It was gratifying, the way Seymour suddenly looked embarrassed. Silver had begun to think he was the only one who ever felt that way amongst them. Certainly Pierce and Cress did not seem to know what embarrassment was.

"Sonnets?" Pierce asked, barely stifling a laugh as he placed a rook poorly, not caring in the slightest when Seymour promptly took it.

Seymour glared at his betrothed. "Pet."

"I don't get letters anymore, either," Pierce continued, and Silver wanted to flee the room - or kill the both of them, because he could see all too clearly that Pierce had picked up on and joined in Cress' confounded mischief.

He should have known the prat would not sit still and read quietly for very long. Oh, he longed for the day he could have shoved her into a mud puddle…it was awfully tempting. Little sisters were nothing but a pain, honestly.

"Silver, you don't write me letters anymore, either."

Oh, the minute they were alone that confounding smirk was coming right off that handsome face. Silver silently cursed his cheeks, which he could feel growing warm. "There is no need, you nitwit. Why are we dredging this up?"

He'd written those letters with the assumption he'd never be found out. If he could just find the damnable things, he would quite cheerfully burn them. Pierce knew it, though, and kept them hidden.

Seymour looked at him, snickering in amusement. "I say, Silver - what did you write? Please tell me I'm not the only one here about to be hideously embarrassed by his beloved."

His cheeks burned all the hotter to here someone more or less state that Pierce was his beloved. Stubbornly ignoring the look Pierce was giving him, he dropped his eyes resolutely back to the book he'd been reading. "I did not write sonnets if that is what you mean."

Pierce laughed softly, fondly. "My letters were far more…bold than that."

Silver's head shot up. "Pierce!" he snapped, face burning. "That is quite enough."

Cress laughed, trying and failing to hide her mirth behind her fan. "Darling, you never wrote me amorous letters."

"Sweet pea," Seymour said, and Silver was going to knock one or the other upside the head with a bookend if they did not stop trying to drive everyone crazy with the ridiculous endearments. "If I had written you amorous letters and your father or brother had found them, I would either be dead or minus a rather important part of my anatomy."

"That's for bloody sure," Silver muttered, glaring a warning at the man who had better not be taking any liberties with his little sister until he had wedded her and even then Silver would tolerate only because the law said he must. He still thought father had been on to something with the idea of a convent, but mother had set her foot down on that notion…

Cress laughed. "Dearest, you're being indelicate."

"Blossom, you started it," Seymour replied, and briskly checkmated Pierce. "So you got to write all the fun letters, eh Silver?"

Pierce grinned. "Quite. I remember December 18th with much fondness."

Silver choked, book tumbling to the floor. He glared at Pierce, who only smiled teasingly back. "If you do not shut up, there will be no December 18th for you for a very long time. Stop siding with my sister!"

"We cannot help but choose the same side," Pierce said, still smiling in that way that made Silver want to simultaneously smack him and kiss him senseless. "Now that we are firmly caught, we have lost the fine letters which…"

"Set our hearts to pounding fiercely," Cress said, giggling at the scathing looks the three men cast her. She raised her fan again. "Set something to pounding, anyway."

"Cress!" All three men bellowed.

Cress dropped her fan and held her sides as she doubled over with laughter.

"This is why I don't write you anymore letters," Seymour groused. "The ones I did write are causing enough trouble as is."

"Agreed," Silver muttered, bending to retrieve his book.

Pierce chuckled and started setting the chess pieces back in place. "Well, so long as you love me, I suppose I can live without the letters."

Silver flushed, but dragged his gaze up from his retrieved book to meet the warm eyes loo