The window seatwaswarm now that the afternoon sun was shining in. It still needed a good clean. Or new cushions, but that would never happen.
Tiiran twitched at the forced inactivity, looked over to Nikoly, found Nikoly watching him, twitched again, and turned his attention to the rest of the room as he sipped his tea. The built-in shelves in this room might have been from before it was used as an office. He had no idea what the books on all the shelves were. If they were the personal property of some forgotten Master Keeper, he’d have to take the time to find out who and if they still wanted them, and if not, they’d all have to be read and then assigned locations—and copied, if no copies existed yet.
This room could always be returned to use as a part of the collection, as a slightly more private nook than most of the others, unless they removed the door. It was astonishingly quiet in the tucked-away room; even with the door open, no noise could be heard from outside.
While Tiiran was focusing with determination on that and not the person sitting next to him, Nikoly went to the desk and the tray to get two biscuits, one of which he handed to Tiiran before he sat down again. Butter biscuits flavored with orange peel weren’t Tiiran’s favorite, but it was probably what the kitchens had made that day. Tiiran ate it in two bites, mostly to keep himself from saying something about how close Nikoly was sitting or how Nikoly was staring at him, only to end up still and quiet when Nikoly reached over to slowly brush a crumb from the corner of his mouth for him.
“There,” he said softly, as if he couldn’t see Tiiran’s frozen, wide-eyed suffering before him. “Would you like this one too?” He held the biscuit level with Tiiran’s mouth as if Tiiran was supposed to eat from his hand.
Tiiran flinched back so fast he nearly sloshed tea onto Mattin’s robe. He was almost grateful since it meant he could take a while carefully putting the cup to the side. A quiet crunch meant Nikoly had bit into the biscuit himself. Which was fine. Nikoly deserved something nice, and maybe he preferred those biscuits and would lick away his own crumbs to enjoy that last hint of butter.
Which meant his mouth would taste of butter.
Tiiran turned back and loudly caught his breath at Nikoly in sunlight, looking as if he’d been dusted in gold. Then Nikoly used his tongue to get an invisible crumb from his lower lip. Tiiran didn’t whimper, but he wanted to.
Their legs were pressed together. Nikoly had sat even closer than before which Tiiran had noticed when he’d done it, but not while also thinking about Nikoly’s mouth, or Nikoly in this room yesterday asking if Tiiran would kiss him.
His eyes came up. Nikoly was watching him, his head tipped slightly toward Tiiran unless Tiiran imagined it. Nikoly licked his lip again, though surely all the crumbs were gone. Tiiran frowned over that even as he drifted closer and reached out.
It was the sight of his hand hovering in the space between them that returned him to his senses. Trying to touch Nikoly’s mouth instead of kissing it, like a true awkward fool who didn’t know what he was doing.
He jerked away to scowl at his hands twisting in his lap.
“Tiiran?”
He knew he would be faced with lovely confusion, possibly even hurt, but he looked anyway.
“Fuck.” It was worse than he’d imagined. He was reaching for Nikoly again without thought, Nikoly’s jaw against his palm within a heartbeat. Nikoly’s gaze didn’t even hold remorse, and that was probably calculated, but Tiiran couldn’t muster much irritation over it, because itcouldbe real. He only managed a small, grumpy, “Couldn’tyoujust kissme?”
Nikoly pressed against his hand, eyes only for Tiiran. “Aren’t I pretty, Tiiran?” He was somehow closer, though that shouldn’t have been possible. “Don’t you want to kiss me?”
“It’s not fair,” Tiiran complained breathlessly. “The sun just finds you.”
He lunged forward before he could stop himself, his hand there more to steady himself than Nikoly, although Nikoly did flinch a bit at the sudden motion. Their mouths met, Tiiran’s pursed tight, Nikoly’s lips lush and soft in the moment Tiiran allowed himself to feel them before embarrassment pulled him away again.
“Sorry,” he said immediately, shoulders up to his ears.
Nikoly wrapped his fingers around Tiiran’s wrist and returned Tiiran’s hand to his jaw, then slid it up to his cheek. “I am not making fun of you,” he murmured before Tiiran could tug himself free. “I might tease you, but I’d never make fun of you. Not like that. Do you believe me?”
“You should.” Tiiran didn’t deserve the pity. “I’m not good at this sort of thing. I don’t play the games the others do. I don’t have lovers like Lanth did. You go into the capital and probably dozens want to kiss you each time. But there’s no life for me outside of the library.”
Nikoly turned to press his lips to Tiiran’s palm. “Do you believe me?”
“I don’t understand why you’d want this,” Tiiran answered honestly, then cringed because he could imagine Orin’s reaction tothat. He suddenly, painfully needed Orin to walk through the door to tell him what to do. But Orin was gone, which was also Tiiran’s fault for being afraid. He took a breath. “Do you still want me to?”
His palm was kissed again, then Nikoly was leaning in and slightly down to make it easier for Tiiran. “Please.”
Tiiran inched in slowly, watching Nikoly’s eyes close, swallowing dryly at the feel of Nikoly’s breath against his mouth. He wet his lips, intending to search for a hint of butter or orange, but tasted Nikoly’s lips instead, which parted at the touch.
Tiiran tilted his head and tried to make his lips just as plush and giving. He swept his thumb over Nikoly’s cheek. He pressed in, as soft as he could make himself be. Nikoly didn’t speak again, only shivering a little when Tiiran could not stay gentle and pushed for more. But he wouldn’t release Tiiran’s wrist, so Tiiran kissed him again, warm and then hot at how Nikoly sighed and dropped his hand at last, letting Tiiran touch him as he pleased.
“It’s all right at least?” Tiiran worried, lips brushing Nikoly’s with every word. He couldn’t stop the sweep of his thumb, or nudging the tip of his nose against the side of Nikoly’s to feel more of him. Something solid and warm was beneath his other hand, Nikoly’s hip, possibly his side. Nikoly’s lips were still open. Tiiran kissed them again, gentle, gentle, despite his hunger.
“You kiss me like I matter to you,” Nikoly returned, kissing Tiiran back as if to prompt Tiiran to kiss him again, which Tiiran did, both hands at Nikoly’s face to hold him, not that Nikoly made a single move to get away. He whined, low and strangely thrilling, then exhaled shakily against the side of Tiiran’s face. “Tiiran,” he said. “Tiiran.”
Tiiran kissed him again, half in his lap, pushing Nikoly up against the back of the window seat and shuddering all through his body when Nikoly settled his hands at his waist to help steady him. The sun burned the side of his face. Nikoly glowed, eyes partly open, lips parted and wet. “Tiiran,” he said again, beckoning, and Tiiran, breathing hard, swooped in to kiss him again.
The slam of a book dropped to the floor sent Tiiran scurrying back to his side of the window seat. The book in question was outside the door, abandoned by whoever had been startled by the unbelievable sight ofTiirankissingNikoly.
