Chapter 11

ONCE INGRID HADvery tactfully exited the room, Ash was only left with Laurel's fiery, accusing stare to gaze into.

"You forgot these." He lifted the vase, watched Laurel's vision dart to them, then away.

"I don't want them. And I don't want you here. My sister is too nice to tell you to fuck off. But I'm not."

Reminding himself of Nero's words, how Laurel would lash out when he felt threatened or hurt, Ash inhaled a cautious breath. He couldn't let himself be baited into a verbal battle. It wouldn't solve anything between them.

"Are you sure you don't want them? You wanted them before."

"Why would I want flowers from you?"

"Because you like me. And you like them. And they'll look pretty on your nightstand." Cautiously, hoping his rage had faded enough to prevent him from swatting at the glass, Ash set them down there.

"You have a very poor understanding of my disposition toward you."

"I know I hurt your feelings, and I-"

"You did not hurt my feelings," Laurel interjected, fuming.

Though he was sitting, he somehow managed to shift into a position that conjured the illusion that he was braced for attack. With his warm amber eyes, and his pale hair glowing like molten gold in the lamplight, Ash thought he looked like a gorgeous knight, brandishing a sword on the back of an armored horse. Was there any romantic image he couldn't fit into?

"I pissed you off," the healer corrected himself. It would be easier, he knew, to go down this route rather than try to make him admit he'd had his feelings wounded. "I wasn't trying to do that, Laurel. I just didn't expect you to…" He stopped, not wanting to place blame and put him on the defensive. "I just did what I thought was right for both of us."

"My hero," Laurel answered dryly. "Obviously my warped little brain could never consider the consequences of my actions. Thank god you were there to protect me from my own foolish inclinations."

"I didn't mean it like that." He wished the sorcerer didn't look so unreasonably exquisite, poised just on the edge between fury and vulnerability. It made it hard to form coherent words in his brain, let alone push them from his mouth. "I only stopped you because it's not right for me to take money from Nero to treat you, if we're… What I mean is, we agreed on a certain thing, and if I'm deviating from that thing, then it's not fair to either of us. It's impossible for me to juggle those two dynamics at the same time, so I decided something has to change."

"You made the right decision." Laurel's voice was light, careless. But his eyes were still swirling with venom.

"I know I did."

Resisting the urge to grit his teeth, he realized he was perilously close to losing the scrap of dignity he'd somehow managed to hang onto. "Then why are you here?"

"I just came back from talking to Nero. I told him I couldn't take his money anymore, and that I would treat you on my own time."

Laurel's fingers tightened, curling into his bedspread as his anger gave way to distress. "You can't do that. Go back and tell him you changed your mind."

"He's already gone, with March."

"Tell him when he comes back that you were wrong, that you were an idiot for even suggesting it. He'll understand."

"An idiot?"

"You need the money."

"I'm not a pauper, hovering on the edge of homelessness." Ash's voice was stiff with embarrassment. "I assure you I'll manage without."

"Forget that," Laurel insisted, pulsing with guilt. "I didn't mean what I said before. I'm sorry. But if you aren't getting paid to do this, then you're just doing all this work, and there's nothing in it for you."

"This is the only way there's anything in it for me," Ash corrected him. "I can make money doing anything, anywhere. There's only one you, and I can't stand that I had to push you away, Laurel. You're the last person in the world I ever want to hurt."

His chest tightened, making it hard for him to think. "You're being ridiculous."

"I'm not willing to sabotage my future with you for money."

Burying his face in his hands, Laurel let out a low groan. "You can't flip your life upside down because of some hunch you have about me."

"You really don't get it, do you?"

"No," he snapped, the condescending tone setting his teeth on edge. "I really don't. You're obviously a moron if you're willing to give up all that for someone you barely know."

"Then I'm a moron. But you'll have to get used to it, because I'm not going anywhere."

"I. Don't. Want. You." Laurel spoke each word clearly, as if he were speaking to a very slow, very dimwitted child. "What aren't you understanding about that?"

"If I believed you, even a little bit, then I'd walk away. I would," Ash added, at the other man's expression of disbelief. "But you're lying, because you're afraid of getting hurt. Again. Which I admit is my fault, and I'm sorry for it. It won't happen again. I promise you."

Because he was sounding too reasonable again, Laurel felt himself shift back a bit in defense and alarm. "I get that to someone like you, I'm just some damaged little popinjay. But I don't need or want to be coddled. I can make my own decisions."

"You think I did that because of some brainless notion that you're not capable of making your own decisions?" Moving forward a step, he gripped Laurel's arms, so their faces were only inches apart. "Do you understand how hard it was for me to pull back from you?"

Unflinching, he stared up at Ash through narrowed eyes. "It didn't seem hard."

"You know how I feel about you. You know how beautiful I find you. And you know that, whether you believe it or not, I believe that you're the one I'll end up giving my heart to." He could hear, and feel, Laurel's pulse bumping in rapid pace. "How could you possibly have even one iota of doubt that I'd want to kiss you?"

"I…" It sounded so stupid now. So stupid that he wanted to curl up into a ball and hide his embarrassment. But it was too late for that. "Don't expect me to know what you want. I'm not a mind reader like you."

"I'm not a mind reader," Ash retorted, relieved and slightly amused at the look of obvious chagrin on Laurel's face. "I'm an empathic healer. Pretty big distinction there." To his very surprised pleasure, it seemed like he was getting through much easier than he'd imagined.

"Whatever." Because Ash's hands were still wrapped around his arms, Laurel squirmed a bit to be released. Instead of dropping them, Ash simply loosened his grip, cruising his fingers up and down the skin there, a feather light touch that was almost maddening in its potential. Before he humiliated himself by leaning into it, Laurel scooted to the side, patting the bed beside him in what he hoped was a casual gesture. "At least sit down. You're making me nervous hulking over me like that."

Ash complied, settling his back against the far wall, though the idea of being in Laurel's bed made him a bit twitchy. The blonde male imitated his movements, so that they were shoulder to shoulder.

"Unless you don't think this is appropriate," Laurel piped up, though his voice dripped with challenge. "Then you're welcome to sit over there." He gestured to a cushy armchair across the room, parallel to a fancy bookshelf crammed with a charmingly eclectic mix of colorful books.

"Don't take this the wrong way, Laurel, but I think you may be laboring under a misapprehension about me." His voice had gone low, almost seductive. Even as the change registered in Laurel's mind, sending warm tingles down his spine, Ash was reaching for him. "I take my responsibilities as a healer very seriously, and I'd never do anything inappropriate with a patient."

"I'm aware." The words he was hearing didn't match the way Ash's rugged fingertips had brushed over his jaw, stroking light lines over his throat, then back up to turn him so they were facing each other.

"But you're not my patient anymore."

"You said you still want to treat me," Laurel somehow managed to breathe out over the roaring in his head. It wasn't supposed to be like this, was all he could think.

After Malory he'd vowed never to feel so weak, so pathetically helpless, like pliant putty in the hands of another man. And he had kept that vow, despite the long line of lovers he'd indulged in after. He had come to an understanding, after so much wisdom from his therapist and so much of his own introspection. His slightly unhinged period of near constant strings of new lovers had been borne of two needs.

One, to prove to himself that he could still stomach the act, that he hadn't been irreparably ruined. And two, to be sure that men wouldn't be able to tell what had happened to him. He had succeeded on both counts, though it had taken a concentrated effort on his part to work through the shakier beginnings. It hadn't taken long for him to begin thinking of each successful encounter as a rung on a ladder. Starting at the bottom of the ladder he'd needed rather copious amounts of intoxication to allow him to endure the feeling. And even then, he'd sometimes find himself rushing to the nearest bathroom to vomit his churning guts out.

But with time, he'd built up a tolerance to it, even taking a perverse sort of pride in the way he could use his body to satisfy his partners. He'd never come to like sex as a complete concept, but there were aspects of it he no longer objected to, and could find some enjoyment from. He supposed that was why he had never felt victimized by being taken advantage of by anyone after Malory. Because in his own way, he'd been using them too.

"I do. And I will," Ash agreed, pulling Laurel from his morbid thoughts. To please himself, and to settle his curiosity, he skimmed his thumbs over the blonde's lovely cheekbones, then down and over his expressive mouth. "But that pesky little dynamic from before isn't there to take precedence anymore. Do you know where that leaves us?"

A shiver coursed through Laurel, but not from fear. His heartbeat had to be doing double or triple time. How was it that he'd fucked his way through so many highbred, upper-class elites in his destructive little quest for sexual autonomy and felt almost nothing for any of them, but this completely eccentric misfit had him practically melting from nothing more than the feeling of roughened fingertips on his face?

"Not exactly," he said. When Ash leaned more closely into him, using his mouth to follow the trail he'd already made with his fingers, he could only tremble out a shaky breath.

Slowly, tenderly, he skimmed over the pounding pulse in the sorcerer's throat, lips curving there when he heard the breathless moan, felt it vibrate against his mouth. "Think of it this way," he murmured the words out between presses of his lips to Laurel's jaw. "Before, I was forced to think of you as a patient. Now I get to focus on the other part of you."

"The other part?" His mind was hazy with the feeling of Ash's mouth cruising over his temple. Every time he would reach out for a shred of sanity, clutching at it, heated lips would touch him and his brain would spin off into the clouds again.

"You remember," he insisted. "The part where you're the one I'm meant to be with."

"Oh, right. That part."

Though they both knew what came next, Ash paused in his ministrations to draw out the moment, so close they could feel each other's breath. "Since I ruined our first kiss, we can just pretend this one is the first, if you'd like it that way."

Though he was practically floating, Laurel found himself just anchored to the earth enough to process the idea. "Wait. Stop." His voice was so firm, so suddenly resolute, that Ash could only blink, taken aback. "Don't kiss me."

"I won't," he promised. The conflicting flickers of longing and dread had Ash's mind reeling in confusion. "Tell me what you want me to do, and I'll do it. Whatever you want."

"Stop saying things like that," Laurel groaned. Even knowing it was cowardly, he wriggled out of Ash's hands, yanking up his pillow and holding it to his chest like a shield. "You don't understand how you're making me feel."

"I don't," Ash admitted, brows furrowed. "So I need you to tell me."

"I can't. I don't even know how to say it."

"You aren't mad anymore, though."

Scoffing, Laurel shifted his gaze to the side in a sulk. "How could I be mad after you did that?"

"You said I was an idiot for doing that."

"You are."

"If it keeps you from being upset with me, it's the best thing I could do."

"You're not getting what I mean. There are things you need to understand if you really want to…" He trailed off awkwardly, unsure exactly how to phrase it.

"Court you?"

"Yes, that," Laurel gritted out, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I mean, I don't know exactly what you want, so…"

"I'm fairly sure you know what courting means."

"I know what it means to normal people. I don't know what it means to you."

"Dates. Exclusivity. Romance. Commitment." Ash grinned as each word seemed to hit with a physical force, intensifying Laurel's wince.

"You want to spend time with me. In public."

"We've already done that a time or two. You didn't seem to have a problem with it then."

"We were just talking," Laurel snapped, annoyed at his own reaction and the healer's lack of reaction. "It's totally different if we're…"

"Courting."

"Look, you obviously can't take a hint so I'm just going to spell it out for you." Apprehension thrashed in his stomach like a beast, but he couldn't put it off any longer. The maniac had already given up a ridiculous paycheck just to try and make it work with him. "I don't know if you want to be seen in public with me. I… I have, kind of, a… Reputation."

Ash tilted his head, not for the first time wishing he could use his powers to quell Laurel's intense jitters. But magic wasn't a crutch to be used for every minor inconvenience. "A reputation for what?"

Nearly at his wit's end, he pressed his palms to his eyes. "For screwing around with guys. A lot of them."

"You can't seriously think that would change how I feel about you." Relieved, Ash had expected it to be something much worse from the way it had been agonized over. "I've bedded a few dates myself. It's not exactly a crime."

"These weren't dates," Laurel interjected, frustrated. "I'm trying to tell you that I fucked a lot of men. They didn't mean anything to me, and I didn't mean anything to them. The ones that tried getting close to me after, I would… I wasn't very nice to them."

"Casual sex and petty jabs? Direct me to the nearest gallows so we can get you hanged."

"Don't make fun of me," he hissed, clenching his fists.

"I'm sorry," Ash apologized quickly. "I don't mean to undermine your confession or anything. It's just that I never thought you were an angel, Laurel. You only look like one."

"Could you refrain from burying me in compliments long enough for me to finish telling you this?"

Recognizing the warning in his tone all too well, Ash covered a grin with his hand. "I'll try my best."

"There were a few that I… Well, you know Nero and I dated. For a bit." At Ash's silent nod of assent, he continued. "I'm sure you've heard his side of everything, and how this whole thing is just a way to pacify his guilt about what happened between us."

"He cares about you as a friend. I don't think it's all about his guilt."

"Maybe not all," Laurel agreed, pursing his lips. "But it's part of it. You must think that he treated me terribly. Took advantage of me, or something like that. Right?"

"I didn't want to speculate."

"The truth is, he didn't really do any of that. I was terrible to him. Really," he reiterated at Ash's surprised look. "I resented him for… Wanting me, I guess. I can't even explain it myself. I wanted him to like me, but I was mad at him, too. I didn't even have any real feelings for him, but I flaunted myself until he couldn't stand it. And then when we were together, I would pick fights with him for no reason. I'd get him so worked up teasing him and taunting him, and then I'd deliberately embarrass him and lash out at him when he reacted the way any guy would react. Sorry," Laurel added, suddenly realizing he was getting far more intimate in his explanation than he'd planned to. "You probably don't want to hear this kind of thing, right?"

"It doesn't make my heart flutter imagining you with someone else, but I can handle it," Ash assured him. "I think you need to talk about it, which is why you're telling me."

Shaking his head, Laurel let out a heavy sigh. "Well, that's the gist of it, anyway. I was terrible to him. I'm lucky he stayed friends with me at all."

"I think he feels the same about you."

"Yeah. Probably." When he managed to scrape up enough of his courage to finally drag his gaze back to Ash's, he found the man's forest eyes blazing intensely at him. "I guess my point is, I have a really bad track record with this kind of thing. Really, really bad."

"I appreciate your honesty," Ash told him. "But whatever you did before we met is in the past. I only care about what happens between us. And I'm not going to let you push me away by picking fights with me, so that point is moot."

"I don't know if I'm…" Again, struggling with his wording, Laurel groaned, letting his forehead drop to the pillow he still clutched. "I might not be fixed enough to have something normal with you. You might be setting yourself up for disappointment."

"I don't think that's the case, but we'll work through it if it is."

"Is there anything I could say that would actually make you second guess this?"

"I wouldn't like it if you couldn't agree to be loyal to me. If you still wanted to see other men, I mean."

Surprised by the request, Laurel could hardly suppress a snort. "Not likely. I haven't felt that kind of attraction to a guy in almost a year." When Ash raised an eyebrow at him, he felt color rise to his face. "Except you. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

He couldn't stop the slow smile from spreading before he answered. "It's not anything I didn't already know, but it's lovely to hear, yes. And you know I feel the same for you."

"Yeah, I know. You've made that really clear."

"But it's nice to hear, isn't it?"

Too nice, in Laurel's opinion, but he only shrugged. "Whatever makes you happy."

Chuckling, Ash reached out, prying one of Laurel's hands off the plush pillow, twining their fingers together. "How very selfless of you."

It was happening again, Laurel thought, with a pang of despair. The control he'd kept clenched in his fists when he'd been with other men was gone, as if it had never existed. The rigid, non-negotiable choice to keep them at arm's length seemed slippery now, sliding through his fingers like oil. The vulnerability was darkly thrilling, and starkly horrifying. But he could do nothing but grip Ash's hand and hope that he wouldn't fall.

"Was there anything else you wanted to bring up tonight?" Ash asked. The pad of his thumb stroked short, careless lines on Laurel's hand as he spoke.

"Is this my last chance?"

"Your last chance to say your piece before I start calling you my boyfriend."

Sputtering out a shocked sound, Laurel's instinct was to pull back into himself, but Ash's hand held his too tightly to be retracted. "You're actually serious about this."

"Don't act so surprised. You know exactly what I want from you. I've never been coy about it." But as he watched the sorcerer's eyes drop, his brows drawn together above them, he realized something. "But you thought things would change after we talked tonight."

"Stop reading my mind." It was unnerving, and made him feel even more exposed.

"I told you I can't read your mind," Ash insisted, smiling a little. "I'm sorry that you were so worried about what my reaction would be."

"It's stupid to apologize for that." There was almost nothing more embarrassing, in Laurel's opinion, than looking into the eyes of someone that knew you had feelings for them.

Shafts of moonlight pooled in from the window, illuminating sections of the floor and bed with a silvery glow. A breeze, perfumed by the thickly blooming gardens surrounding the house, blew in and stirred Laurel's bangs around his eyes.

"Am I still banned from kissing you?" Ash asked, charmed by the pale, mussed tendrils.

"I never banned you," he grumbled, swallowing thickly as his pulse skipped inside him. "I just wanted you to wait until I could explain myself."

"Have I waited long enough?"

Laurel's answer stuck in his throat as the healer leaned into him. He hoped raising his free hand to skim over Ash's ear and tangle into his hair would be enough of an indicator of his consent.

Their lips met in a kiss that seemed to hold an echo of the innocence of the one before it. Time halted to a stop, with only the soft hoots of a nearby owl and the swish of the moonlit wind connecting them to their surroundings.

It was torture of the sweetest kind, Ash thought, sinking into the lush mouth while desperate yearning seemed to seep out from his every pore. It was a terribly intoxicating combination, but the longing was edged with a strange ache that even he couldn't decipher.

Even as the healer's lips moved against his in a skilled rhythm that had him practically vibrating, the terror of losing the lofty, dreamy feeling pricked Laurel like dozens of needles. When Ash's arms encircled his waist, drawing their bodies closer together, he was grateful for the added contact. He had the sudden terrifying thought that if they stopped kissing now, that if Ash let him go, then he'd disappear into nothing.

The helpless surrender that Ash had taken so much pleasure in feeling the first time around was still present between them, but he could feel the fear now, the vulnerability. He wanted to soothe the wounded sorcerer, to assure him that he was completely safe from whatever fear he was imagining, but he wasn't sure he had the words to do so. Hoping to soften the jagged edges of the anxiety, he let his hands drift up and down the lithe muscles of Laurel's back, a light touch.

Every cell in Laurel's body, every scrap of his being, seemed as if it were being pulled from him, slowly at first, and then with a jarring burst. Heat and magic snapped to life between them in a shower of sparks, ringing out in a bright peal. Shocked by it, he yanked back, panting breathlessly. Power was bubbling over in him, threatening to spill out, and for just a moment he could see a soft light glowing from his skin.

"Did I hurt you?" He demanded, raking his eyes over every part of the healer he could manage in their tight embrace. "Did I burn you?"

"You didn't," Ash assured him. "But I felt that, too."

"What happened?"

"I don't know. That's never happened to me," he admitted, slightly shaken. "It was kind of like the spell I used on you before, to draw out your power, but I didn't do it."

"No, it… I'm pretty sure it was me," Laurel said, not quite suppressing a shudder. "You've seen it happen already."

"Right," Ash answered, hoping his doubt didn't show in his voice. It was nothing like what had happened before, and Laurel's unpredictable powers wouldn't have caused the tugging sensation in his own aura.

"Laurel?" Minael's soft voice floated in through his door, followed by two light knocks. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine!" He called back, praying his father would take his word for it. "I just knocked over a stack of books. I'm sorry." He eyed the door warily, acutely aware of the incriminating position he was in.

"You are fine. Should I help you?"

"I already picked them up. Thank you," he added, feeling sweat prickle out over his skin. Ash, caught between hysterical amusement at Laurel's reaction, and abject horror, could only stare and hope he could stay absolutely silent. The seconds that ticked by as they waited for Minael's response felt like decades.

"I'm up for a little longer, if you're wanting to talk with me. I'm sorry for how you've been fighting with your vatra recently."

"I'll come out and talk with you in a minute, okay? Just let me finish this… Chapter. Please." At this point he wasn't sure which option he feared more, his father entering his room or wanting to have an intimate conversation centered around family drama while Ash was next to him.

"Oh!" Minael sounded surprised at his agreement. "Then I'll be waiting for you in the kitchen."

"See you in a minute." His heartbeat finally began to slow its hideous pace at the sound of Minael's graceful, retreating steps. "Fuck," he muttered, running a hand through his hair as he stood.

"Cute accent," Ash said, charmed. "You never told me one of your parents is from Ironchill." There were very few countries in the world that hadn't adapted to a general language, including Ikronia and the country in Ironchill where Ash had been born. But in the eastern part of that frigid country, they still spoke one of the ancient languages. The accent was very recognizable.

"Shut up," Laurel hissed, glancing back over to the door as if it could tell on them. "You need to go." He pulled on Ash's wrist a bit, his urgency apparent. "And do not walk back around the front of the house to get to the road. My vatra will actually murder me if he thinks I snuck you in here."

"Didn't you?"

"Ingrid did," Laurel reminded him flatly, glad when he finally scooted off the bed into a standing position. "Sorry about kicking you out."

"Don't forget, I'm staying in the castle now," Ash said, less offended than amused at the pushy way he was maneuvered to the window.

"Fine, whatever. I'll come see you. Just go." As he watched the man navigate through the opening, a sudden thought occurred to him that had his heart speeding back up. "Wait."

"Yes?" With his feet planted on the soft grass, cooled by the breeze he'd only been teased by inside, Ash tilted his head.

"Come with me to Ingrid's concert. I mean, if you were serious about wanting to… Go on dates or whatever. Do you like music?"

Ash was fairly sure everyone liked music, but he very wisely kept the comment to himself. "I do. I would love to go with you."

"It's more than a week away, so…" Feeling awkward now, Laurel eyed him from inside the house. "Anyway, I'll tell you more about it later."

"I don't get a goodnight kiss?" Ash's emerald eyes danced with obvious amusement as he voiced the question.

With a low growl sounding in his throat, Laurel braced his palms on the sill, leaning out so his lips could be captured in a kiss that was no less potent for its quickness. Even in its brief existence, it hinted at the possibility of more. When he pulled back, far too affected already, to see that same hint of possibility burning in Ash's eyes, he slipped back through the opening.

"Goodnight." To punctuate his point, Laurel let the window slide fully closed, effectively blocking any more contact between them. When Ash only stared at him from the other side, one eyebrow raised, he huffed out a breath before turning on his heel and rushing out of his room to meet his father.