❤🎺

Ethan's fingers were almost clumsy, blindly, and eagerly searching for something inside him. His free handheld his waist tightly, nails digging into his left hip. Ashley shifted, trying to guide Ethan's fingers to the right spot. He crooked one finger downwards and found precisely what he was searching for, drawing a series of incoherent moans, gasps, and swears from Ashley.

Ashley sighed blissfully, loose-limbed, as Ethan continued to slowly fuck him with his fingers, adding a third and slowly pressing him open. He squeezed his eyes shut and moaned, reaching blindly for Ethan's face, pulling him closer till their lips met clumsily again. Ethan arched his fingers into Ashley's sweet spot again, causing him to bite down harshly on Ethan's bottom lip.

Very soon after, Ashley tasted iron. His eyes flew open, and he pulled back, eyes settling on Ethan's now bloody bottom lip before searching his face for a response. Nibbling on Ethan sometimes was one thing, actually drawing blood was a completely different situation.

However, Ethan didn't seem upset; he barely reacted at first. His free hand grazed the admittedly shallow marks Ashley had left behind, lifting his bloody fingers to his eye line. His gaze shifted between that and Ashley's blood-covered lips in mild confusion.

Ashley sat up, wincing as Ethan's fingers slipped out of him. "Ethan? I'm so sorry; I didn't mean to take things too far." He reached up, held Ethan's face with both hands, and tilted him away from his bloody finger. "Are you okay?"

His question partially snapped Ethan out of his odd trance long enough to respond, although he ignored the question. "Ashley?"

"Y-Yes?"

"Do that again."

❤...🎺

By the time Ethan finally sank into him, his back, shoulders, neck, and, most of him really, were covered in quickly healing bite and scratch marks. Ashley added to the collage of marks by digging his fingernails into Ethan's shoulders as he thrust into the hilt. He shoved into Ashley, who pushed back to meet his thrust, moaning as he was filled up. The stretch was so intense, bordering on pain, turning his breathing from ragged puffs to deep moans as his thrusts picked up.

Missionary was simple, but it's the easiest way to look at Ethan, all of him: To see his face twist when he pulled back and pushed into him or how he moaned when Ashley's nails raked down his back. Ethan winced, and Ashley paused, hands hesitating over his back.

"Too much?"

"No, definitely not. It's perfect, this is perfect... you're perfect. This is-"

Ashley ended Ethan's babbling, pressing their lips together to keep him from admitting more heart-melting things for both of their sakes. Ethan gladly took the out, pulling back and shoving into Ashley again, one hand on his hip, the other wrapping around Ashley's prick before continuing to fuck Ashley into the mattress.

Ashley's orgasm crept up on him slowly, warmth curling up and down his spine, a furnace billowing to life right before finally and suddenly sputtering to life and spilling over Ethan's fist. Ethan finished soon after, exhaustedly half-collapsing on top of Ashley like a weighted security blanket.

...

Ashley's fingers graze one of Ethan's quickly healing bite mars, tracing the dip of his shoulder as he watched the results of his work in quiet fascination. Ethan leaned into the touch. They were both spent, but Ashley still wanted nothing more at that moment than to touch him and study his polished sea glass eyes.

I'll unpack that later.

Ethan watched him for a moment but eventually spoke up. "So, we need to talk." Ethan blurted out. "About your... offer and about this."

"I want you to help me get a good night's sleep by suppressing my bad memories. In exchange, I'll help you learn everything I know about magic. This," Ashley gestured between them. "Isn't connected."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"I'm not sure what else to say. You know I want both of those things."

"So, we're on the same page then?"

"Yep."

...

1936, Venice

Ashley pulled at the collar of the hideously ostentatious suit he'd been forced into. He felt like a caged sideshow freak, a very literal golden goose, stared at from all ends.

The Dragons were showing off the newest addition to their hoard, so Ashley had been "encouraged" to show off his talents to entertain their wealthy friends and cronies. Back then, even the most unimpressive demonstration of his power drained him. So, after a night of turning every trinket, he was given to gold, silver, and platinum, combined with the wine he'd been chugging to work through the night, he was drained. It was a terrible combination.

Eventually, Ashley managed to slink away to an indoor balcony overlooking the massive hall. He wasn't completely alone, of course. He was constantly guarded to ensure he didn't escape or get kidnapped. Still, it was a quiet moment of respite to himself, which was a blessing and a curse. A blessing because he finally had time and space to think and a curse as most of that time was preoccupied with thoughts of his old life.

Worst birthday ever.

His solitude was unfortunately broken by an arm snaking around his shoulder. He tensed up, immediately knowing who it was.

Andrea, the blonde who'd given him his freedom, had become an ever-present figure in Ashley's life. He didn't know quite what to make of him. He was much better company than the other mobsters, but there was something overwhelmingly plastic about him: his very frequent smiles often didn't quite reach his eyes. He was unnervingly put together, not showing anger even in situations where joy was more unsettling, and his words always felt scripted.

"You've done a good job tonight. Sorry about how... last minute it was." He was holding two wine glasses, one already half drunk.

"It's... fine." Ashley shrank in on himself, trying to avoid the forced closeness. Andrea had been getting touchier lately, getting worse the closer it got to his birthday.

"It'll be over soon, and you'll be able to go back to your quarters in peace. Until then," The blonde lifted the second wine glass. "Something to take your mind of things."

Ashley hesitantly accepted, immediately suspicious. What more could Andrea want? As far as Ashley knew, he had already taken all he could give.