“And because…” Tiiran widened his eyes as he realized. “I said it already.”
A rumble. “Say it again. Say it properly.”
Tiiran put his shaking hands flat against Orin’s chest. He blinked several times, then wet his lips and said it, looking directly at Orin. “Because I’m your duckling.”
“Because you are mine,” Orin corrected him again, loud and rough.
Tiiran sagged against him with his head down. “I’ve never been anyone’s.”
Orin pressed between Tiiran’s shoulder blades, the pressure steadying. “That’s why I take this seriously. Why I’ve been slow. But we’re not going to stay slow anymore, are we, Tiiran?”
“Orin.” Tiiran’s mouth went dry as he looked up. “Are you going to hurt me?”
Orin smiled and cupped his cheek. “Oh, yes.”
Tiiran shivered. “Will I like it?”
“I believe so.” Orin swept his thumb back and forth. “But if you don’t, you are free to stop or leave. That is always true. Say it.”
Tiiran stared up, breath coming faster. “I am free to stop or leave.”
“Yes, Orin,” Orin prompted.
“Yes, Orin,” Tiiran echoed absently, then felt a frown form. “But, Orin…”
Orin gave the smallest shake of his head. “You brought your handsome young pup to me and then left us together. Testing me, Tiiran. Wondering if I would abandon you or hoping I would?” He banked his fire at whatever he saw in Tiiran’s expression. “Expecting me to,” he decided, petting Tiiran again. “I don’t blame you for it because I know you. But that was no way to treat him.”
“He likes you.” Tiiran tipped his cheek into Orin’s hand, faint to think of Nikoly doing this with Orin, fainter still to remember Nikoly doing it withhim. “He could be yours. And he would be better than…”
Orin didn’t let him finish. “I think we need to address that point before we go any further.” He pushed Tiiran’s chin up until Tiiran had to stand on his toes. His tone was first thoughtful, then vicious. “My kitten thinks he isn’t special to me. That is incorrect. What is correct, Tiiran?”
Tiiran’s breath caught noisily in his throat. “I’m your kitten.”
It wasn’t enough. “The rest.”
Tiiran was on tiptoe. He flailed slightly and grabbed Orin’s shoulders to stay upright. Orin watched him do it with heavy eyes and didn’t help. Tiiran wet his mouth. “I’m special to you. Oh.” Once it was out, his knees gave way. He fell against Orin and was again enfolded in his warmth. “Orin.” He was weak and burning up, but not even slightly ill. Orin was so, so pleased with him that he had to duck his head.Oh. If this was how Nikoly felt with Tiiran, then Tiiran wanted him to feel it always.
Orin stroked the shell of his ear. “Are you ready or do you want to run?”
Tiiran was trembling. Orin likely felt it. “What if I do it wrong?”
“Oh, kitten.” Something pressed to the top of Tiiran’s head. Orin had kissed him, Tiiran realized and raised his head. Orin’s gaze was dark but hid nothing. “Remove your robe.”
Tiiran pulled in a breath. He stepped back, but shrugged out of his robe with some stumbling and put it on the table. He didn’t get a chance to hesitate over what to do next.
“The belt too.”
Tiiran stared at Orin helplessly, because no belt meant his pants would not stay up. Which Orin must know, obviously. Tiiran glanced behind him, but the entrance to the nook was unoccupied. Orin had an eye on it and anyway, Nikoly was downstairs guarding the second level for them.
A good boy.
Tiiran could do at least as well… probably. He stifled a growl and clenched his hands. “You don’t want me naked?”
Orin’s smile said Tiiran had doneverywell. “I told you we weren’t going slow anymore, not that I wouldn’t take care with you. But since you demanded it: remove the rest.”
With him watching. Tiiran hadn’t shared sleeping quarters with anyone for years, not since he’d first come to the library, and even then, nudity had been more about getting dressed than anything playful. At least, for him. He turned his head so he wouldn’t see any disappointment from Orin and removed his boots first, then his belt and pants. The air on his bare legs made him shiver and hesitate over his socks. But Orin hadn’t made exceptions, so those went too. His shirt last, since it covered most of him.
He had to fight not to cross his arms. He was scrawny, with muscles only good for going up and down stairs or carrying books. He had very little body hair unlike most men his age, he assumed from the fae blood. He had never had to shave his face.
