“You’re wonderful,” Therios kisses him deeply.

The sweat has cooled between their bodies, and they trade sweet touches as they relax into Vanth’s bed, exhausted from their earlier activities. Vanth closes his eyes and enjoys the touch, however false it may be. Now that the lust has cooled, the guilt is starting to creep in. If Therios knew what he was, what he would turn into if the sun ever set, he wouldn’t be here in bed praising him. He’d be leaping up to slay him. To distract himself from falling into that vat of self-pity and self-hatred, he twirls the beads in Therios’s hair, inspecting them.

“What are these for?” he asks.

“Ah, those.”

Therios turns on his side and suddenly their noses are mere inches apart. The trail of beads lie in Vanth’s hand and Therios points out each bead in turn.

“The first bead there, the smallest, that was from my induction to the Demon Slaying Guild. Don’t look so startled, I told you I was a demon slayer. It’s a real job.”

“I know it is.”

This diversionary tactic doesn’t seem so appealing anymore.

“Anyway, the next is for when I completed my first battle with the guild, and the one after that, a special commendation for felling my first demon alone.”

“Are demons so common?”

“Not in the way other predators are. Mostly I slay the ones that idiot humans summon and can’t control. Sometimes kings will use them in battle and that never goes well. Demons will turn upon who summoned them if they can, and that typically means both armies get eaten or cursed or whatever.”

“Oh.”

“And this one – the gold one – is when I saved another guild member in battle.”

Vanth eyes the rest of his wiry hair.

“You have lots of little gold ones.”

“Because I do a lot of saving! I’m very brave.”

“Or very stupid.”

“Or that,” Therios smirks, and then like he can’t help himself, kisses Vanth on the mouth. Vanth pulls back.

“You must love your guild very much, if you risk yourself to save them.”

“They’re my brothers.”

Therios rolls onto his back and stares up at the ceiling.

“I’ve never had a family before them. I’d do anything for them. You ever have people like that?”

“No,” Vanth whispers.

It’s just been him for a very long time, running from anyone and anyplace that could hurt him. He had loved his family; he had, after all, run to save them from danger, both from the angry villagers and Vanth himself. But that was a long time ago, and Vanth can’t remember if they ever begged him to stay or thought to run away with him.

“Family is not always easy to find,” Therios says, conciliatory, “but the bond between me and my brothers – it’s nigh upon unbreakable.”

The guilt is back, but the flavor of it is different now. Vanth turns onto his back as well, so he doesn’t have to look at Therios.

“Are they all as brave and kind as you?” he asks.

“Braver, kinder. They practically reformed me into the charming rogue I am today.”

He chuckles, nudges shoulders with Vanth. Vanth smiles fleetingly.

“They’re very brave,” Therios continues, “We’re the heart of the resistance against Laris. It’s different from slaying demons, you’ve got to be sneaky about rebellion.”

“So you mentioned. Is Laris really that dangerous?”

“Yeah, he’s got these fire powers, see.”

Therios gestures to his own healing wound as evidence.

“He thought that entitled him to an instant membership of the guild. He didn’t understand he had to go through training and tests. Apparently, he was trying to get high spots in all the guilds, not just ours. Anyway, he didn’t take rejection too well, and long story short, he decided to overthrow the elected town officials and now he’s trying to shut down the guilds. Wants revenge for rejection, I guess. He’s succeeding, unfortunately; his fire powers have got most people too scared to openly resist. Nobody wants him to burn their face off.”

“He sounds terrible.”

“He is. That’s why the guild is moving against him. We even funded an underground newspaper. I wrote some very bad poetry for it, an ode to Laris’s awful eyebrows. Don’t get me wrong, I love a hairy man.”

Therios reaches over and tugs on Vanth’s beard.

“Don’t think I hadn’t noticed that you’d cut it like mine. Adorable. Anyway, I love a hairy man, but Laris: he’s got an out-of-control unibrow. I believe I compared it to a furry eel, a squirrel pelt, and a fuzzy caterpillar all in the same stanza.”

Vanth raises his eyebrows, “Impressive.”

“I thought it was.”

Therios wiggles in a self-satisfied way, then he rolls over so that his face is snuggled into the curve of Vanth’s shoulder.

“I could write something about you, if you’d like.”

“No, thank you.”

“Once upon a time, in a valley lost to man, there lived a prince in a garden sublime, with talking knights and kitchen pans.”

“Stop,” Vanth laughs.

Therios mouths at Vanth’s neck.

“And though the castle was so enchanted, the prince was lonely, for the company of another man he couldn’t be granted.”

Vanth’s breath stutters, his laughter fading away.

“And then one sunset, a wounded rogue came to the castle, as eager as a soubrette—”

Vanth pushes at his shoulder, “Shut up!”

“What? I haven’t even rhymed ‘garden’ with ‘harden’ yet.”

He grabs meaningfully at Vanth’s crotch.

“That’s a terrible rhyme,” Vanth gasps.

Therios kisses him a few more times, short and sweet little pecks.

“You’re not going to let me finish the story?”

“No,” Vanth says and pulls Therios on top of him. He runs his hands up Therios’s back and into his hair.

He knows how this story ends and it isn’t in happily-ever-after. Demons don’t marry the handsome rogue. Vanth rolls the beads between his fingers, studies them over Therios’s shoulder. Therios is his for now, and as his prisoner he’ll ostensibly be here forever, but there’s a growing awareness that Vanth can’t shy away from: he’s falling in love…and Vanth has never been allowed to keep the things he loves.