Cym squeaked in alarm and began to flail.
Laughing, Fourteen rolled off of him, grabbed Cym by both arms, and hauled him on top of his chest.
Laughing.
What the hell? When Fourteen laughed at Cym’s terrible joke earlier it wasn’t close to what he was doing now. Before, it was like listening to a tin soldier trying to laugh for the first time. This was joyful and unrestrained.
There was no ice in Fourteen’s eyes. The man below him was fully alive and so much more than the man Cym had known so far. His eyes were filled with a mixture of laughter and mischief and Cym couldn’t look away.
What the hell? Cym was still reeling from the traumatic scene they had been whisked away from. How could Fourteen be laughing?
Cym propped himself up on his elbows to give him enough room to see Fourteen’s face. “Are… are you okay?”
“I feel unbelievable right now.” Fourteen stroked the sensitive skin on the inside of Cym’s arms, drawing lazy circles with his fingertips.
Cym’s bare skin tingled with each stroke. It felt like the shapes were sinking into his skin and becoming a part of him. A heady rush of exhilaration ran through him, taking with it the horror of what he’d just witnessed. All he wanted to do now was wallow in the man.
Wow. Did Fourteen know he was the human equivalent to catnip?
Cym didn’t rub all over Fourteen like a cat, but he couldn’t stop the goofy smile from spreading across his face. That was weird… right? Was Cym allowed to be that happy?
People like him weren’t supposed to have good things happen to them. Not that good, anyway.
Ugh. Stupid toxic upbringing. Cym could have good things. Cym deserved all of the good things. In fact, he was going to go find even more good things, gather them up into a big pile, take a picture, and mail it to his stupid family so they’d know what they were missing out on.
Okay, so maybe those teen self-help magazines were a little useful.
Cym laughed softly and shook his head. What was he doing again? Oh right. Sitting on a very good thing. He wiggled experimentally and got a fascinating sound from Fourteen in response.
Yeah… Cym was definitely gay. It only took being on the run from his family and grinding against a super soldier to find out.
Slow down, Cym. Slow down. No humping your soldier to victory until you figure out what’s going on.
Cym took a shaky breath, trying to ignore the sexy, disheveled man underneath him and looked around. “Where are we, do you think? It looks like heaven.”
They were lying on a wide expanse of grass at the top of a cliff overlooking the ocean. The sky was clear, and he could see seagulls flying in a wide circuit near the shore, looking for a meal.
“Home.” Fourteen reached out and stroked Cym’s cheek, his touch gentle but sure. Embers flared in Cym’s belly and his cock stirred, but before he had a chance to react, Fourteen continued speaking. “This was my home a long time ago. I can actually remember some of that time now.” He smiled, and it transformed his face into a work of art.
Cym had never seen anything more beautiful than Fourteen’s smile. It stoked the embers in his belly and caused small flames to lick at his insides. The sensation was marvelous. “Do you know where it is?”
“Massachusetts, near Rockport, I think.” His voice was lazy, and he stretched underneath Cym like a cat in the sun.
The motion snapped Cym’s attention away from Fourteen’s face and back to his sinful body. Gone were his leather jacket and black combat pants, and in their place was a thin, gray T-shirt and an old pair of jeans so worn they felt soft and pliant under Cym’s fingers.
When the muscles in Fourteen’s thigh shifted, Cym realized he had been feeling him up. Again.
Cym jerked his eyes to Fourteen’s face, an apology on his lips, but stopped when he saw a glint of hunger in his eyes. His irises were thin bands of gray now, lost to the black of his pupils. The smile was gone from his face, replaced by something more predatory. The hard line of his cock stiffening against Cym was unmistakable. It was also impossible not to rock against.
Fuck.
It was starting to occur to Cym that their magical surroundings might be causing their social barriers to fuck off. Because at that exact moment, Cym wanted nothing more than to roll around on the ground and get dirty with Fourteen for the rest of the day.
He managed to resist reaching out to run a finger over the six pack peeking out from a gap between Fourteen’s shirt and pants, but when Fourteen pushed Cym over like a toy and reversed their position, pressing that well-muscled body against him, he couldn’t remember why he’d been trying to resist.
Without thinking, Cym wrapped his arms around Fourteen’s neck, intending to claim every inch of the man he could gain access to, when he caught sight of a patch of scars on Fourteen’s arm.
It was enough to break through the sexy fog clouding his brain. The reminder of what Fourteen had suffered cleared Cym’s head enough for his mind to present what he had been so desperate to ignore.
“Fourteen.” Cym’s arms dropped to his sides, but his cock pulsed because it didn’t care about things like morals or communication.
“Mm?” Fourteen’s voice was thick, and he closed the distance between them, touching his forehead to Cym’s.
It took all the willpower Cym possessed not to move the micromillimeters necessary to press his lips to Fourteen’s. “What did you mean earlier when you said you weren’t unaffected by me?”
Fourteen nuzzled Cym’s cheek with his nose, breathing in his scent. “You want to talk about that right now? Because”—his thumb brushed across Cym’s lower lip—“I think it could wait a little longer.”
“I—” Cym’s throat went dry. He cleared it and tried again. “I think it might be important.” Cym considered getting that sentence out one of the major achievements of his life.
Fourteen took a deep breath and sat back, keeping the majority of his weight off Cym but still keeping him pinned to the ground.
The sunny day began to dim as clouds formed overhead. Fourteen frowned down at Cym as if to say, And this isn’t important? But he didn’t protest.
“Please?” Cym should get a freaking medal for his persistence because his cock was officially protesting.
Fourteen huffed, and his frown transformed into something very akin to a pout. Finally, he climbed off Cym’s body, but not before planting a scorching kiss on his mouth.
Thunder rumbled in the distance as Fourteen sat down beside him with a painstaking deliberation. It left Cym wondering if he had an actual unit of measurement to go by for the proper distance to establish for a serious conversation.
