The yarn almost tugged from Bellamy’s hands and he looked downward. The cat had followed Nezael up and was now making itself a nuisance. Nezael bit back from laughing.

“You stop that now,” Bellamy said and sighed when the cat simply batted at the yarn faster. He gave up, leaving the yarn, and stood to approach Nezael.

“You can go under one condition,” Bellamy said and Nezael nodded quickly. “If the snow is falling too fast, you know where town is. Seek shelter there.” He fished a hand into his pocket and produced a small coin pouch.

Nezael took the offered pouch and raised his eyebrows. “Truly?”

“Last resort,” Bellamy said. “I’d rather an alive little lord than a dead one.” He turned and picked up the cat. Some of the yarn had entangled itself in its ribs. “If I lost you, I cannot imagine how cross our lord would be.”

It was said so sarcastically, Nezael couldn’t quite take it seriously. He smiled all the same. “Thank you.” He surprised Bellamy with a hug and received the briefest squeeze back before both hands went back to helping the cat. “I’ll be back soon.”

“See to it you are.”

~

The gray skies above couldn’t dull Nezael’s mood today. Bundled up from the cutting winds, he practically floated through the forest all the way to Yorick’s cabin. Unlike the many times before, Yorick wasn’t idly waiting for him on the stump and Nezael disliked how lonely the grove looked without his warm smile. It made sense, though; even he knew Nezael had already refilled all of Isabella’s stores. There was no reason for Nezael to be here, all things considered. Nezael lingered a moment at the stump, doubts begging him to reconsider, before he decided to head up to the cabin door.

He hadn’t been inside since spending dinner with Yorick and Yorick hadn’t invited him in again. Maybe he’d been worried for Nezael’s own sake, or perhaps something else.

Lingering aromas of cinnamon and sugar drifted around the cabin and Nezael breathed in deep. Yorick must have been baking something with what he’d purchased from town the last time he and Nezael went. All the shopkeepers had adored him and had weighed his arms down with so much to keep him healthy in the cold. Nezael only wished they’d treated him with the same kindness.

Nezael’s stomach grumbled and he took that as a sign to knock and see if Yorick would be willing to share.

The door opened shortly, letting warm air wash out with more cinnamon floating along it, and at first Yorick looked confused seeing Nezael. Warranted perhaps, but the confusion melted when Nezael gave him a shy wave.

“Hey you,” Yorick said and smiled against the kiss Nezael immediately gave to the side of his mouth as they went in together. “More herbs already?”

“Not this time.” Nezael moved aside as Yorick shut the door. The warmth inside was almost overwhelming, but was much better than the biting cold outside. “I wanted to see you. I was bored by myself.”

Yorick snickered as he headed back to the kitchen. Nezael shed a few of his layers, hanging them neatly on the hook beside Yorick’s own things, and left his boots next to Yorick’s before he followed. Yorick was pulling out a tray of spiral rolls baked with cinnamon and sugar from his oven. Their aroma filled the cabin tenfold and Nezael’s mouth watered. Yorick must have noticed; he nudged Nezael teasingly.

“Help me put icing on them?”

There was something about Yorick’s tone of voice today, the stilted way he moved, and Nezael watched him a moment. He was clearly nervous despite the smiles and Nezael had no idea why. “I’d love to as long as I get to have one myself.”

“I suppose I can’t very well eat them all on my own.”

Some of the unease melted, at least, and Yorick happily showed Nezael how to drizzle the sugar icing across the top. There were four rolls altogether, practically as large as Nezael’s face, and while they were a little misshaped with none of the perfect swirls of the bakery in town, Nezael found them endearing.

Icing didn’t take long, but then Nezael had to wait for them to cool further before he could eat. Yorick wasn’t even swayed by the sad look Nezael gave him and shuffled him to the dining table to sit.

Yorick’s lips made the time go by faster. They tasted like sugar and Nezael happily drank it in, pressed against the cushions. Finally, as Nezael’s body filled with enough pleasure to overflow, Yorick pulled away and brought the rolls over. It must have been on purpose, the way Yorick was grinning as he did so, but Nezael refused to complain and instead happily accepted the cinnamon roll peace offering. They sat together on the couch, as close as possible while still letting them eat, and Nezael liked it.

The place felt like home, somehow. Some of the dust and cobwebs had been dealt with since he was in here the first time, making it more inviting, and though Nezael missed the few messes he’d seen before, he kept the thought to himself.

They ate quietly, the roll gooey and overrun with icing, and Nezael took his apart with his fingers. Yorick did the same, but his gaze was distant and it felt like there was something he wanted to say. Nezael slowly finished his piece, licking the icing off his fingers, and eyed Yorick all the while. Definitely distracted. He’d picked his roll to pieces instead of eating it, leaving a small mess on his plate.

Gently, Nezael leaned into him.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked.

Yorick blinked and his shoulders tensed. “N-No—of course not.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

Yorick stammered, his jaw tensing with words unsaid, and he eventually sighed and thumped back against the cushions. Nezael followed him back and gently took one of his hands to hold while Yorick gathered his words.

“What… what are we?” Yorick asked, staring straight ahead. “D-Don’t get me wrong. I’ve enjoyed your company immensely... I... I didn’t actually think you’d be back Then here you are and I’m just confused, I guess.”

“You didn’t think I’d be back?”

Yorick looked at him with such sadness in his blue eyes. “Every time you visited me, you had something you wanted. I didn’t mind. I liked kissing you and I liked helping.” He turned back to his roll and excavated a piece slathered in icing with his fingers. “I figured when you finished, that’d be it. I believed thinking otherwise would be lying to myself.”

“I needed excuses to leave,” Nezael insisted, wishing Yorick would look at him again, but he just ate the piece of roll he’d broken off. An excuse to do anything but see the hurt in Nezael’s eyes. “If I didn’t have one, my lord wouldn’t have let me.” He gently turned Yorick’s face so he could catch his gaze again. “All I wanted—all I really wanted all this time—was to be yours.”

Some of the unease began melting from Yorick, but he didn’t answer.

Nezael took Yorick’s other hand, the one with icing coating the fingers, and considered it. “Are you so used to being lonely that me never coming back was your only answer?”

Maybe it was too personal a question, especially because Nezael already knew the answer deep down. It was easier to pretend that was all there was to it. To save Yorick from hurting himself by getting attached to a flighty nymph-like necromancer flitting in and out of his life like the breeze. Nezael did feel guilty all he’d done was come by when he had an excuse; he should have eschewed them altogether and visited simply to sit inside with Yorick on cold mornings. Watch the frost melt and the sun move across the sky. Show him someone cared about him while needing nothing else in return.

Yorick peered at their hands. Nezael didn’t need an answer; he already had it.

Nezael brought Yorick’s hand closer and Yorick stiffened, eyes darting right back to Nezael’s with a question. Carefully, before he lost his nerve, Nezael slowly slid the finger into his mouth. Yorick went somehow stiller, like he hardly even breathed, and Nezael watched his eyes as he slowly drew the finger back out, running his tongue softly along it to catch the icing.

“I want you,” Nezael whispered.

“Oh,” Yorick breathed out the word, but remained impossibly still as though his entire body had forgotten how to function.

Slower than the first, Nezael slid the second finger into his mouth, never once breaking eye contact with Yorick even as it went deeper. There was the jolt of a pulse there, Yorick’s breathing coming out a little more rapid, and Nezael ever so slowly pulled the finger from his mouth, taking care to catch more of the icing.

“Every single part of you: I want,” Nezael said.

“Oh.” The word came out more well-formed, Yorick watching Nezael’s mouth like it was the only part of him that existed. His eyebrows shot up, realization dawning on him, and his breaths came even quicker. His heartbeat fast in his chest.

“I am surprised the kisses did not give it away,” Nezael teased and went for the next finger, the last one with icing still left on it. Not as much, but that wasn’t quite why Nezael was doing it.

“I thought you were being polite,” Yorick said, barely able to stop the chuckle in his throat, and Nezael made a show of rolling his eyes as he began to pull the finger back out. “You know, I’ve a mind to tell you where else you can put your lips exactly like that.”

Nezael’s cheeks burned at the insinuation, even if that had been exactly his intent, and he grinned mischievously at Yorick. “Do you, now? Pray, tell me about it in detail.”

Blush bloomed quickly across Yorick’s cheeks and he laughed loudly. It sounded like he was darting through the forest with Nezael again—wild and free—and Nezael took it as an invitation to be bolder. He swung one leg around Yorick’s lap and firmly placed himself atop it, delighted as he felt a reaction from what awaited him below.

“Would you have me, then?” Nezael cupped Yorick’s face to look up at him. “All that I am and more?”

A devilish smile spread across Yorick’s lips, like he was really considering everything he wanted to do, and a delighted shiver ran down Nezael’s spine. Yorick’s hands firmly found their way to Nezael’s behind and squeezed it, sending another flush of pleasure straight through Nezael and his pulse quickened.