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CHAPTER TWENTY

And that terrified him.

~

Gracyn unintentionally slammed the door of his room, and flinched when the door sounded as if it was going to fly off it's hinges. His hand muscles loosened and he felt his knuckles and fingers cool down as he slowly opened his eyes and saw Stephen, slouching over the side of his bed. "Stephen." He said breathlessly, smiling as his lover stood from the bed and ran to him, hugging him. His warm embrace made his heart flutter, "I'm so happy to see you."

"Are you okay?" Stephen asked as he pulled away, looking at the bandage that surrounded his arms, "I can heal that if you want." He offered, but Gracyn shook his head.

"Hyle told me we killed your father, and that it drained you." He revealed, smiling at Stephen as he frowned, "you weren't going to get away with that one."

"I had to try, you were in a lot of pain, Gracyn."

"I'm starting to realize that pain is part of the job." He laughed humorlessly, walking to his bed with Stephen tailing behind him. He laid down on his bed and groaned, feeling exhausted, and flopping down on his own bed felt amazing after all of this.

"It shouldn't have to be." Stephen mumbled and laid down beside Gracyn, laying his head on the archer's chest. Hearing and feeling his heartbeat on his chest was one of the best feelings in the world.

"Mm." Gracyn nodded, shutting his eyes as he attempted to relax, and it seemed to be working as he felt everything around him turn black, and drifted off into a light sleep.

"I have a daughter at home!" He remembered, the voice still echoed in his head as fresh as before. It wouldn't leave. The voice of a man he didn't even know the name of, the man who was now dead and gone. Somewhere, in an endless abyss of some sort. Gracyn wondered if the man was as scared as he was.

Did he feel his heart in his throat? Did he feel like he was going to throw up, but couldn't no matter how much he tried? Did he scream and cry that didn't want to die? Did he tell whatever God that he had a daughter at home, too?

His eyes snapped open, and he gasped when he saw Stephen sitting up, looking down at him, eyes filled with concern and confusion. "Gracyn, are you okay?" He asked, and Gracyn's immediate reaction was to kiss the man in front of him.

So he did.

A quick, thoughtless kiss. Because when he was dying, that was something he feared he would never get to do again. Kiss the man he was falling for, feel his fingers in his hair, or his heavenly touch.

Stephen didn't refuse the kiss, in fact he kissed back for a short while before pulling away, "Grace," he mumbled as Gracyn reached for more, but he lightly pressed against his chest, forcing him to stop, "Gracyn, is everything alright?" He asked again, and Gracyn bit his lower lip, at a loss for words. He didn't want to talk about this to him, not yet.

He trusted Stephen, more than most, but he didn't want his thoughts, and nightmares, to be a burden on him. He already had so much going on, this would just be another pound to the pile, so he thought of another thing he'd been meaning to say. But his throats closed at the thought.

Was it too early to say he loved this man? Because he felt like he did. Every single time he saw Stephen, his heart never failed to flutter, his stomach was bound to tie into knots, and his words would fumble and flail like a failed gymnast.

But when he wasn't tongue tangled, and he actually did get to spend time with Stephen, romantically, his chest would feel like it'd been set aflame, his touch would burn holes into his skin, and his kiss would feel like sugar and cinnamon.