“How long have you been back?” he asked.
“About ten minutes,” Zeke replied.
“We need to celebrate your return, tonight.”
“No. I’ve had enough parties to last a lifetime,” he said quietly.
Jordan blinked in surprise; Zeke had always loved parties. Well, ever since Caelan had brought him out of his shell. “Oh, okay.” He glanced between the two boys, obviously sensing something going on. “Well, I’ll leave you two to it then.”
He squeezed his son in another hug before leaving.
After a moment, Zeke sighed and walked through into his old bedroom.
Caelan hesitated before following him. He grabbed one of the washcloths on the side and dunked it under the tap, wringing it out before moving to follow Zeke.
His foot hit something, stopping him. He bent down and picked up the dagger that Zeke had been holding when he came back. He picked up his own knife and slipped it into his pocket, finally heading after Zeke.
Zeke was curled up in bed on his side, his eyes open and staring ahead at the wall blankly. Caelan went over and placed the engraved blade on the side table, kneeling down. Zeke’s eyes were now trained entirely on him.
“Give me your hand,” he said quietly.
Seeming slightly confused, Zeke held out his hand without reluctance.
Caelan took it, feeling the smooth skin on the back of Zeke’s hand against his palm. He didn’t look up to meet the eyes he knew were on him. He did look at the tens of little scars all over Zeke’s palm. He began to wipe away the drying blood from his skin, the disturbance to the flesh making it bleed again. After watching the red droplet grow for a second or so, Caelan ducked his head and licked at it, letting his saliva close the little wound.
Caelan stifled a moan at the taste of it. He’d often found himself wondering over the past year or so what Zeke’s blood would taste like but he’d never imagined that it would be quite as explosive as this. He looked up at Zeke.
Zeke’s eyes were closed, him still lying on his side. When his eyes flicked open, the blue was so dark that they almost looked black.
Suddenly, Caelan was being pulled up into Zeke’s lap. He had to put his hands either side of his head to steady himself.
“Zeke,” Caelan gasped, his hands curling into fists against the mattress.
“Shush,” he whispered. He slid his hands into Caelan’s brown hair, pulling his head down until their lips met. “God, Caelan,” Zeke murmured against his lips.
Caelan didn’t want to talk anymore, pressing his lips against Zeke’s to shut him up.
The two lay there, kissing passionately, until Caelan’s head felt numb. He didn’t notice when Zeke’s hand began to pull his t-shirt up. He gasped when Zeke’s skin touched his, giving Zeke an opportunity to slip his tongue into his mouth. Despite the moan that escaped his lips, he wasn’t comfortable with the way things were heading, sitting up quickly.