“But… are you well?” Edgar pulled his legs up to sit cross-legged, then peered at Justin’s jaw and his perfect nose, the fierce slash of his eyebrows, and the dark fall of his hair. “You wouldn’t drive up here for no reason.”
Justin made that sound again. “It’s only an hour’s drive, Edgar, if that. Not the end of the world.”
“But my understanding was that grad school is harder, and that I—thatweshouldn’t expect frequent visits from you.” Edgar tried not to close his eyes to remember each and every story he’d imagined where Justin went to grad school and loved it so much he never returned here, not even for visits.
Perhaps his scent gave some of that away, and Justin took pity on him. “It will be harder, but it’s not that difficult yet. Even if it was, I’d be up here again. Anyway, I like the drive.”
Edgar had a foolish heart and Justin was mean to tease him. But Edgar relaxed his hands to wave them accusingly in Justin’s direction. “You said it was a boring drive. I heard you.” He was still smiling. His heart beat faster and his mouth felt inordinately dry, but he was happy with Justin next to him.
“Well, boring is relaxing.” Justin tried to argue with a pleased, slightly smug grin on his face. “If you hate seeing me that much, Ras, I’ll go.”
“No, no!” Edgar whined immediately, leaning over to reach for Justin without letting his fingers actually grip the fleece of Justin’s jacket. “Stay.Pleasestay.” Edgar curled his hands into the couch cushions instead, and flushed at the delighted look he got, because, of course, Justin hadn’t moved a single centimeter.
“That’s the key, is it?” Justin mused, as if he didn’t already know. “To pull Edgar from his stories, I just have to remind him that I exist.”
“Jerk.” Edgar crossed his arms and glanced away and pretended Justin wasn’t already a constant shadow over his stories. “I haven’t forgotten you. But I don’t want you to waste time here if you have other things you need to do.” He was getting too close to the one truth he did not speak of, not even when telling a story. Justin knew of course, how could he not, with Edgar’s desires carrying to him in the air? And still, Justin was kind enough to come here, to be Edgar’s friend. But he wouldn’t stay. Edgar forced himself to go on. “I know I might seem lonely, but I’m not.”
Justin’s smiled slipped. He stared at Edgar, then around at all of his books. “In one of your visions of the possible, do you imagine I believe that being here is a waste of time? Do you really believe that, Ras? I don’t think you do.”
Consideringwhat might bewas so much more difficult with Justin’s gaze on him.
“I suppose not,” Edgar answered after a drawn-out moment, and then huffed a cloud of irritated white smoke. His speech always went more old-fashioned when Justin was near, as if he was in a Regency romance novel and he lost all sense when confronted by Justin’s thighs in tight buckskins.
They did not make many Regency romances about men loving men, and none at all about dragons, but Edgar could easily be the socially awkward relation of a rich house, watching a handsome duke as he was pursued by countless eligible daughters of the Ton. But in a story like that, the Duke might turn at the right moment to see Edgar on a balcony in the moonlight, or take pity on him and ask him to dance, only to be captivated by his sweet manners.
Edgar closed his eyes.
Justin’s voice came to him, soft and close. “Are you thinking up another story, Ras? Will you tell me this one?”
Edgar’s eyes flew open. Justin was on the middle cushion, sharing a warm, secret smile with him as though Edgar could not still feel his breath on his neck.
“No.” Edgar pressed his lips together to hide his smile. Justin should not tease, but dragons responded to need, and Edgar did not want him to stop. “I doubt you would find it interesting,” he insisted, although Justin’s curiosity was sharp on his tongue. Justin might enjoy indulging Edgar like this, but he would be less happy once Edgar’s story devolved into Barbara Cartland-inspired erotica, or the scandal of the Duke and Edgar caught in a compromising position and forced to marry.
Anyway, Edgar’s erotica was somewhat lacking. He had no practical knowledge to rely on.
Justin put his head back. “As if I didn’t come here for one of Ras’s stories.”
Edgar studied him carefully, while he waltzed with the Duke in the back of his mind. “Once, there was a younger brother, an heir to nothing, who was sometimes forced to go out into Society at the behest of his family.”
“Are they cruel?” Justin wondered instantly, only to relax when Edgar shook his head.
“No. But it’s… very difficult for him to focus when there is so much to imagine. He does not do well there, among the glittering Ton, attending dances and card parties with too much conversation. But his family worries. If he cannot provide for himself, he must be seen to, cared for, but he will never attract the attention of any worthy party.”
“Why not?” The gold in Justin’s scales caught the firelight and the last gasp of sunshine through the windows.
Edgar deliberately closed his eyes. “He’s smart but not clever. Quiet, not witty. He has a habit of finding the truth and speaking it. More than that, he has no fortune of his own, and no great beauty to attract love. His family hopes, but he knows there is no grand match waiting for him.”
“That is one version of the story,” Justin protested softly. “I know you have another, and another. Tell me a happy one.”
“A duke, handsome and somewhat arrogant, who has to marry for his family, might find him suitable. Perhaps….” Edgar lowered his voice. “Perhaps he might find him more than suitable. Maybe he dances with him out of kindness, but the poor boy is calm in a sea of noise. The Duke, who is much sought after, and rightfully so, finds he enjoys his company. The boy, although lacking a fortune, is kind. A marriage of convenience might in time blossom to friendship, or more.”
“No. Happier.” Justin did not accommodate the books around him. He shaped them to his will.
Edgar turned his face away. “You want the fairy tale? Where the first dance is mere kindness, but the Duke is immediately struck by the boy’s softness, and charmed by his clear voice? Where he calls on him, again and again, and seeks him out at dances, and coaxes him out into the garden, and forgets himself among the perfumed rose bushes and steals a kiss?”
The air was warmer than it should have been. Warmer than even a fire and two dragons should have made it.
He didn’t want to look over during Justin’s long silence, but eventually, he had to.
