Robin didn’t know what time it was when he realized he was awake and sweltering, but the fire had burned down some, giving the room a dim, flickering orange hue. He spent several dazed moments contemplating his arm across Lucas’ chest, their tangled legs, Lucas’ steady, slow breathing, before easing back as carefully as he could.
He got out of bed without falling, a major achievement with his limbs heavy and the urge to climb back in and curl around Lucas as strong as it was. He meant to walk straight to the door to get to the bathroom, but the sky peeking around the curtains called to him. He pulled a curtain aside just enough to see dark clouds and a hint of falling swirls, snowflakes twirling gracefully to the ground.
A gift of love, from one king to another. They’d done it.
Robin didn’t think they’d appreciate him looking so he let the curtain fall again.
He went to the bathroom and paused in the hall on the way back, but he heard no noises from downstairs, or from anywhere, except some wind outside.
He left his bedroom door open a little wider to make the temperature of the room more comfortable and then crept to the bed. He was under the covers but keeping to his side when he looked over and saw Lucas awake and watching him.
“This is still all right?” The question would not have been heard by anyone beyond the pile of blankets, which, Robin noticed, had mostly ended up on his side.
“Blessing.” Lucas could be grouchy when he was woken up in the middle of the night and forced to deal with Robin’s nerves.
Robin got himself back into Lucas’ arms within a few fast beats of his heart.
“I was thinking of you,” he justified himself, trying to find the most comfortable place on Lucas’ chest.
Lucas let out a breath. It was almost a laugh.
Robin raised his head. “What?”
“You’re the only one outside of my family who does that.” Lucas probably hoped Robin would lie down. He stroked Robin’s back, then seemed to catch himself doing it and stopped.
“Does what?” Robin sat up even more. “Thinks of you?” He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry the coven is how it is. I don’t understand it. It’s supposed to be us together. Instead, it’s… never mind.” It was late, or early, for a serious discussion, and Robin didn’t want to talk about them anyway.
He put his hand to the mattress to push himself up, the better to study his bedmate.
Lucas looked away, then slowly brought his gaze up to meet Robin’s.
“It’s snowing,” Robin informed him quietly. “Not a lot, but enough. We should do something for them, when we can. Help them. I don’t know. You’ll probably know a way, or find one.”
“With some direction, I might,” Lucas agreed with hardly a pause. “You’re not tired anymore?”
Robin shrugged. “Always. But I have you here. I should at least get to stare a while.” Their hips were pressed together. Robin wouldn’t have to do much to find himself straddling Lucas in the dark. “If we stay like this, things might happen. I wouldn’t object. Okay?” Lucas should know that. Robin glared at him fiercely until Lucas nodded. Lucas seemed, as he sometimes did around Robin, confused but willing to listen. “But you should know I don’t actually have a lot of experience. I havesome,” Robin defended himself. He wasn’t handsome and intimidating in a way that appealed to crowds of people, but he’d done all right on his few ventures into hookups. “But not a lot, however you define that. And anyway, right now, I’m…”
“You have a lot to recover from,” Lucas kindly stopped Robin’s anxious rambling, “and a lot yet to do.”
Robin didn’t want to think about that now. It had the general ring of a prophetic statement and was possibly deliberately cryptic as well. It was also almost exactly what Mallory had implied.
“If Greysmiths have been seeing omens about me, they could have mentioned it sooner,” Robin grumbled, then put a finger over Lucas’ mouth before Lucas could say a word. “I don’t care about the pictures in the tapestry at this moment, Lucas. I am in bed with you, and we are sheltered and protected by the union of Holly and Oak. I’d like to kiss you, if you’re into that idea.”He paused, because he wasn’talwaysbossy. “If that creates problems for you, well, you should know weavers have very strong hands.”
He tried a wink and then raised his hand to wiggle his fingers.
Lucas reacted to this with a frown, then a deeper frown. But he took Robin’s hand and held it to his mouth again before letting go. “I don’t always like that.” He said it like an admission, swift and quiet, his gaze steady on Robin.
“Kissing?” Robin wondered blankly, then shook his head. “Handjobs?Oh,” he realized in nearly the same moment. “Sex.”
“I fuck,” Lucas said bluntly. “Sometimes. And I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it. But strangers have expectations. Most of the time, I’d rather…”
Robin put his hand to Lucas’ cheek and Lucas took loose hold of his wrist again. “Lucas?”
“I like helping,” Lucas went on, voice a little rough. “All I do is notice what others don’t, read portents, make them angry, and feel as if I’m not doing enough.”
“But you want to help?” Robin hoped he understood, or at least, understood enough for the middle of the night. “You’d rather help people. That’s what makes you feel good?”
“Somepeople.” Lucas caught his gaze. “You,” he added, bolder.
