Moons shadow, p.19
Moon's Shadow, page 19
Moranthus snorted. “It’s going to break apart when you throw it no matter how nice it looks, you know. You may as well save some time and—”
Without warning, Gerrick hurled the snowball at Moranthus, hitting him square in the chest. The sudden impact sent Moranthus stumbling back a step. Without his mail and padded shirt, that would’ve hurt. But fair was fair. He’d started this with an equally underhanded tactic.
“Point taken.” Moranthus laughed and brushed the snow off his tabard, then knelt to form a snowball of his own. “Not very honorable though. Have I been a bad influence on you?”
“Not very honorable of you to start this when you don’t feel the cold the same as I do either.” Gerrick blew on his reddened hands, already on his feet and eyeing Moranthus warily. “Barehanded too. Isn’t that uncomfortable?”
Moranthus shrugged and stood up, tossing his snowball between his hands. “Not particularly. Are you admitting defeat already?” He readied himself for a throw, trying to anticipate which direction Gerrick would dodge.
Gerrick rushed him instead, grabbing Moranthus by the waist and tackling him into the snow. “No. Just making this more fair.”
Moranthus squirmed free of Gerrick’s grip and shoved the snowball down the back of Gerrick’s shirt as best he could with Gerrick’s armor in the way. Gerrick retaliated by flinging a handful of snow into Moranthus’s face and making another grab for him. From there, they settled into more of a grappling session in the snow than a proper snowball fight. Moranthus had no objections. Seeing this level of intensity from Gerrick, and all of it directed at him… How could he complain?
After a full night of standing still, some good, vigorous movement was exactly what Moranthus needed. He still had a sense Gerrick was holding back with him, but only enough to keep their scuffle friendly and harmless, the same way he was. With Gerrick using close to his full strength to try to hold Moranthus down, and Moranthus able to do the same without feeling like he was taking advantage… Well, Moranthus couldn’t have asked for a better distraction to occupy his mind.
They were both coated in a powdery layer of snow by the time Gerrick got Moranthus pinned under him. Moranthus supposed he hadn’t struggled quite as hard as he could have, but with Gerrick on top of him, hands around his wrists and a knee between his thighs, he didn’t see much reason to. If this constituted a loss on his part, he didn’t want to win.
“Where was this at the training grounds?” Moranthus made a token attempt at twisting free of Gerrick’s hold on him.
Gerrick held him fast, cheeks too flushed for the cold to be entirely responsible. “I don’t think this has anything to do with training.”
“Depends on what you’re training for. Maybe this wouldn’t be useful in the field, but I can certainly think of a few other applications.” Moranthus angled his hips to press his hardening cock against Gerrick’s leg, in case he needed clarification.
Gerrick tensed, a faraway look in his eyes. Not quite the reaction Moranthus was hoping for, but maybe he was being a bit forward. Gerrick was still new to almost everything of a sexual nature. Him being more open to experimentation as of late didn’t change that. The last thing Moranthus wanted was to make Gerrick feel pressured or uncomfortable because he’d gotten caught up in the moment and misread the situation.
Moranthus withdrew from contact with Gerrick as much as he could in their current position. “It’s perfectly all right if you’re not interested. It’s late, we’re out in the cold and covered in sn—”
Gerrick cut him off with a kiss. Hesitant at first, then he relaxed into it like he’d been doing this all his life. The gentle interruption took Moranthus back to the first time Gerrick had kissed him, and the feel of Gerrick’s lips against his was as achingly sweet now as it was then. There was nothing performative or demanding about Gerrick’s touch, or even much of the clumsiness Moranthus had expected from someone with his lack of experience. Gerrick just seemed to openly and unabashedly want him, and Moranthus couldn’t recall feeling quite this comfortable with anyone else he’d been with.
Gerrick pulled back slightly. In the cold moonlight, he resembled a marble statue more than a flesh-and-blood man. He let go of Moranthus’s wrists to take hold of his hands, lacing their fingers together, and if Moranthus hadn’t already lain flat on the ground, his knees would’ve buckled under him.
“This just brought back some old memories. But that’s in the past now.” Gerrick kissed him again. “I am interested.”
Moranthus let out a breathy laugh. “I gathered as much.”
“Do you want to…go back inside, then?”
Moranthus would’ve been perfectly content to finish things off right then and there. But he’d kept Gerrick out in the cold long enough, and the courtyard was bound to be along some guard’s patrol route eventually. He hummed to himself, as though deep in thought, before replying, “I suppose we should get you indoors and out of those clothes before you catch a chill.”
Gerrick moved off Moranthus, helped him to his feet, then led him by the hand through the castle to his room. A giddy sense of satisfaction bubbled up in Moranthus at the lingering contact. Gerrick still hesitated at every corner and intersection of the castle halls—clearly, the thought of being openly together in public was still a source of trepidation for him—but he never came to a full stop or let go of Moranthus’s hand. And for Moranthus, that was enough.
A thoughtful servant had already set a fire blazing in the hearth in Gerrick’s room, filling it with a warm, welcoming light. With the door securely shut behind them, Gerrick released Moranthus’s hand in favor of helping him out of his snow-damp tabard and mail. Moranthus gladly returned the favor.
The fire’s heat lapped at Moranthus’s skin when Gerrick finished with his outer layers and moved on to the clothes he wore beneath. Moranthus shuddered at the feel of Gerrick’s cold, sword-callused hands running over him afterward, the sensation heightened by the contrast in temperature. Beneath his own hands, Gerrick was solid and warm, the hair covering his chest pleasantly coarse to the touch. This was his first experience with body hair, and while he expected the novelty would wear off eventually, he doubted he’d ever be any less enamored with it. It suited Gerrick. Made his figure as soft and inviting as it was sturdy and imposing.
Gerrick tensed, breath catching in his throat when Moranthus spread a hand out against his chest, fingers running against the grain of his hair. “You know that tickles, right?”
Moranthus did now. “In a good way, or a bad way?”
“Not bad. Just…distracting?”
“Fair enough.”
Moranthus could work with “distracting,” but that was for another, earlier night. Instead, he pulled Gerrick in for a kiss with one hand and ran the other down Gerrick’s torso—with the grain of his hair this time—stopping just shy of his cock. Already half hard, distractions be damned.
Gerrick arched into his touch, and Moranthus had all but decided to go to his knees and set about getting him fully hard when Gerrick abruptly pulled away. Before Moranthus could so much as blink, Gerrick had put an arm around his back, the other around the bend in his knees, and picked him up as though he weighed nothing at all. The sensation was disconcerting at first—Moranthus couldn’t remember the last time he’d been held like this. But Gerrick had a secure grip on him, and Moranthus could certainly think of worse places to be than pressed against his lover’s chest.
So, he wrapped his arms around Gerrick’s shoulders and shifted his weight to make himself as light a burden as possible. “Well, this is new.”
“I thought it would be romantic?”
“It is—very.” Moranthus rested his head on Gerrick’s shoulder and gently nipped at the base of his neck. “What are you planning to do with me next?”
Gerrick gasped and held Moranthus tighter, as though Moranthus couldn’t already feel his response pressing against his lower back—not that Moranthus wasn’t in a similar state of arousal himself. “I…have some ideas.”
Moranthus half expected—and wholeheartedly wanted—Gerrick to toss him onto the bed, but instead, Gerrick laid him down like he was made of glass. His every movement—from his kisses to his caresses to the way he reached between Moranthus’s legs with oil-slick fingers and began to work him open—was slow and tender and gentle. And skies, Moranthus loved every moment of it, but it was missing an edge he desperately needed tonight.
Moranthus pressed a gentle hand against Gerrick’s chest when Gerrick moved to position himself, heart fluttering when his touch brought Gerrick to an immediate stop. In spite of—or perhaps because of—his inexperience, Gerrick was easily one of the most considerate lovers Moranthus had been with. “As wonderful as this is, would you be open to trying something different tonight?”
“Yes.” Gerrick looked down at him, desire darkening his eyes to the color of a stormy sea. “What do you want to do?”
Moranthus moved out from under Gerrick and pressed harder against his chest. “Lie back?”
“I, um… I don’t know if…” Gerrick paused, averting his eyes and focusing on some imaginary point over Moranthus’s shoulder, when he continued, “It probably isn’t fair of me, but I don’t think I’m ready to…try this the other way around? If you wanted to take me. Someday…just not tonight.”
“I wasn’t thinking of anything like that.” Moranthus moved his hand to Gerrick’s face and tilted Gerrick’s chin up to look at him again, pointedly ignoring the way his cock twitched at the delightful image someday called to mind. “And we never have to try it if you don’t want to. I wouldn’t have let you take me in the first place if I wasn’t content with that arrangement.”
“Oh.” Gerrick let out a huff of breath that might have been a laugh and leaned forward to rest his forehead on Moranthus’s chest. “What were you thinking of, then?”
Moranthus wrapped his arms around Gerrick and rubbed slow circles on his back. “I was thinking I’d like to be on top of you tonight. Set a bit of a different pace if you’re amenable.”
Gerrick looked up at Moranthus, his voice a touch lower than usual when he replied, “I’m amenable.”
Moranthus kissed him, meeting no resistance when he put his hands on Gerrick’s shoulders and pushed him down onto the bed. He straddled Gerrick’s lap, then paused for a moment to drink in the sight of Gerrick laid out beneath him, completely at Moranthus’s mercy. He savored the low whine he drew from Gerrick when he reached behind him to guide Gerrick’s cock into position, then sank onto him, his world collapsing into the sweet burn of Gerrick stretching him wide. No worries, no obligations, and no paralyzing moral quandaries. Just him and Gerrick, joined as close as two souls could be.
“Skies, you’re girthy,” he murmured, an experimental roll of his hips sending sparks of pleasure up his spine. He wasn’t giving himself nearly enough time to adjust, and he had no doubt he’d be feeling this come morning, but for now, it was exactly what he wanted.
Gerrick winced. “Sorry.”
“No need to apologize—that wasn’t a complaint.” Moranthus rolled his hips again, working his way up to a tempo that left him unable to do much more than pant for air and hope he’d said enough to assuage any lingering concerns on Gerrick’s end. Sweet words were all well and good, but he needed this, and his mind was too clouded for more eloquent reassurances.
Gerrick’s only response was a deep, throaty “Mora” that went straight to Moranthus’s cock. He settled his hands on Moranthus’s hips, fingers digging in just firmly enough, and thrust up into him at an angle that had him seeing stars and forgetting to breathe.
Moranthus bit back a strangled cry, struggling to keep his rhythm. He didn’t know if he was just out of practice or if Gerrick was just that special, but he was already so close to the edge it hurt, and his cock hadn’t even been touched yet. He adjusted his balance and took himself in hand to remedy that, only for Gerrick to let go of his hip and replace Moranthus’s hand with his own.
“Let me?” he asked, an adoring look in his eyes that Moranthus couldn’t have refused even if he’d wanted to.
Moranthus nodded, whimpering like this was the first time another man had taken him in hand at the feel of Gerrick’s callused fingers gliding over him. Moments later, he came, vaguely aware of Gerrick’s climax through the haze of his own pleasure. He kept himself upright and moving until his legs threatened to give out, then shakily eased his way off Gerrick before collapsing beside him, boneless and utterly spent.
Gerrick rolled onto his side to face Moranthus, one arm comfortably settling around his waist. He pulled Moranthus close, resting his forehead against Moranthus’s. Then, in a voice so low Moranthus was half convinced he’d dreamed it, Gerrick murmured, “I love you.”
The words hit Moranthus like a horse at a full gallop. They’d tiptoed around that phrase before, but saying it so plainly and directly had a different impact. He wanted this to be real—felt the same toward Gerrick, though he feared pressuring the man into more commitment than he was comfortable with too much to risk voicing it first. Even now, his throat constricted at the thought of answering in kind. Gerrick wasn’t one to speak carelessly or make declarations he hadn’t wholeheartedly committed to, but if his mind were even half as foggy as Moranthus’s, Moranthus couldn’t rightly hold him to anything he said in this state.
“I just finished riding your cock,” Moranthus replied, offering an easy way out for both of them if Gerrick had second thoughts. “You’d love anyone after that.”
Gerrick frowned, his eyes clear and focused and boring into Moranthus’s with something that felt uncomfortably like disappointment. “No. I wouldn’t. And I wouldn’t have enjoyed you…doing that half as much if I didn’t love you. I don’t just want you because you’re good at sex, Mora. You’re more to me than that.”
Moranthus froze, taking far longer to respond than he should have. He had decades of experience with pillow talk, but this was a first—and the moment felt so fragile he feared even a careless breath would shatter it.
He’d been in love before, with Ryllorin. Ryllorin hadn’t felt the same. He’d never said the words back to Moranthus, no matter how many times he repeated them. And still, Moranthus had thought himself happy, accepting Ryllorin’s affectionate gestures, soft words, and his place in Ryllorin’s bed as all he needed. All he had any right to ask for from a lover when he had so little to offer in return.
And Gerrick had given him so much more, freely, unprompted, and without expecting anything from Moranthus other than his continued company. Like Moranthus was some great prize to be won instead of an exiled plague orphan who was lucky he wasn’t living in a gutter somewhere. Tears welled up in Moranthus’s eyes at the thought, faster than he could blink them away. After the night he’d had, it was too much to make sense of.
Moranthus was attractive. Charming. A good lay, a shoulder to cry on… But always more of a convenience than a permanent fixture. The kind of man men liked and fondly remembered, but not the kind they loved. That was his lot in life, and he’d made his peace with it long ago. But Gerrick had just turned that understanding on its head, and Moranthus didn’t know if this was a fluke or he’d been setting his standards too low all these years.
Beside him, Gerrick tensed. “I’m sorry. It’s all right if you don’t feel—”
“It’s not that.” Moranthus wedged an arm between them and rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand. Slowly, some foolish part of him still convinced that an affirmative response would change Gerrick’s feelings toward him, he continued, “I love you too. You just…caught me by surprise. This is new for me.”
“This can’t be the first time someone’s said that to you.”
“And if I told you it was?”
“It shouldn’t be.” Gerrick took hold of Moranthus’s hand and held it against his chest. “I love you. And I want to treat you better than the men who didn’t.”
“You already do.” Moranthus’s voice cracked on the last word, tears running freely down his face. There’d be time enough to collect himself later, but for tonight, Gerrick had shattered him beyond repair. And it was past time Moranthus allowed himself a moment to break.
Gerrick let go of Moranthus’s hand to wipe a tear from his cheek, a concerned furrow in his brow. “Are you all right?
Moranthus nodded, making his best attempt at a smile. “They’re happy tears, I promise.”
Gerrick responded with an affirmative hum, holding Moranthus close again. Moranthus buried his face in the crook of Gerrick’s neck until his tears subsided, grateful that Gerrick didn’t seem to expect any further conversation from him. They lay together in comfortable silence, Gerrick pressing an occasional kiss to the top of Moranthus’s head, and for the first time in far too long, Moranthus felt like he was exactly where he belonged.
Seventeen
They left the castle later than Gerrick would’ve liked the next morning, but he couldn’t bring himself to wake Moranthus. Gerrick had never seen him sleep so deeply. His only response when Gerrick left the bed to shave and wash his face was to pull the blankets tighter around himself. Even Aldous’s knock on their door a short time later failed to rouse him. So, Gerrick sent Aldous on his way ahead of them and settled himself in bed beside Moranthus again.
He worried it made him a bad friend and father, making everyone wait on him like this. But he wanted to be a good lover too. And so long as he didn’t make a habit of this, he didn’t see any harm in focusing on that every now and again. It was hard to feel too guilty with Moranthus curled around him, warm and content.
Gerrick would just have to find some way to thank Bea for watching Daisy longer than expected later. She and Aldous never accepted any payment he offered for all they did, but he tried his best to make up for it with occasional farm work. As for Daisy, a sweet from the market would be enough to buy her forgiveness.
