His skin twitched and shivered underneath the licks of Ash’s playful tongue. Sebastian bit his lower lip and craned his head again to watch his counterpart trail down from his chest to his abdomen, feeling another swell of intense arousal watching the younger male so eagerly lap up the mess of fresh semen and sweat on his body.

But, to Sebastian’s discontent, the head of his cock was still too sensitive, and it almost hurt a little when Ash teased him there.

“H-hey,” he groaned as he jerked his hips away almost instinctually, no sooner feeling Ash finally pull his cock out and the trailing warmth behind it trickle down his thighs.  

Fuck… he thought, in spite of himself, too, as he reciprocated Ash’s kisses fervently, at first, but after each one, his initial elation had begun to subside, and what he thought had made him feel better, in the end… Now was only succeeding into worsening his mood.

Stop it.

Once his hands were free, he suddenly didn’t know what to do with them. Nothing felt natural, now – he felt like he was being observed, scrutinized, and was suddenly self-aware and uncomfortable with every single thing that his body was doing. He couldn’t find a comfortable place for his tongue in his mouth, or a place to put his hands, and felt like if he stopped thinking about taking each breath, he’d no sooner suffocate.

The gentle kisses and the murmured words only made it hurt that much worse, and even made him feel a little sick on the inside with his stomach turning and his mind reeling.

Not a few hours ago he was having a lovely chat with Ash’s ex over coffee…

“I love you, Sebastian… I really, really do. You know that, right?”


He sat up, then, quickly, as if startled, and moved Ash to the side with an apologetic glance. “Yeah,” he replied, finally, and his next anticipated words hung in his throat for a minute like a deadly poison.

“I love you, too, Asher. I really… really do.”

He turned his head to look into his counterpart’s eyes and reached to brush a few strands of Ash’s black hair from his eyes. Not a moment later, Sebastian stood up. “I think… I’m going to take a shower,” he announced, suddenly, and no sooner disappeared from the room, closing the door behind him once he made it to the bathroom.

The steaming hot water was something of a reprieve, and he ended up standing under the stream for a while, letting the high heat sting his back and his new bruises and scratches. His hands were pressed against the wall and his head was hung, staring down at the tiled floor of the shower, silently reveling in the steam and the white noise of the running water, for now. 

The worst part is… No matter how bad I feel about it… I’d do this again. And again. And again…

“Ah-, right…” Sebastian nodded between gasps. In the heat of the moment, he had forgotten… Ash was still injured. For some reason, that fight with Andrew had seemed like so long ago but now wasn’t really the time to think about it. He briefly shook his head to expel the thoughts, and then focused on getting his legs into an at least semi-comfortable position, despite hearing and feeling a hip pop loudly in the process, to which he grimaced, both from the slight pain but mostly the embarrassment.

“Fuck,” he breathed, but his breath no sooner hitched in his throat, his back immediately arched upwards and a shiver ran down his spine, effectively making his skin crawl with goosebumps when Ash’s tongue and teeth so sweetly but so briefly teased his nipples. 

Damn… he thought, a little frustrated, but that, paired with Ash soonafter concentrating on his thrusts, as deep and hard as Sebastian could take it, was enough to soon send the older man writhing and moaning in pleasure and anticipation. Every little movement and every breath and noise he heard from Ash had him reeling.

He was dangerously close… Just a few more thrusts and…

“Haah… Ash…” he huffed between his mewls and moans, “I’m… I’m gonna cum.”

In just a few more moments, his tied-up hands clenched to fists, his toes curled, and he arched himself upwards again, pressing his body as close to his partner as he could while his head tilted back, eyes closed, mouth agape with a breathy and exasperated cry. “Nn.. Aah! Asher-!” he gasped out, loud enough and long enough to fill the room and probably the rest of the house were anyone else there to hear it. He couldn’t help it, though, as he felt his entire body racked with an intense, pulsing pleasure, the hot liquid came spouting onto his chest and abdomen, and probably on Ash, too.  

He was then nothing more than a panting, sweaty mess, his body (though mostly his legs) quivering uncontrollably as he looked up, anticipating Ash’s release now just as much as he had anticipated his own. 

“Thanks,” Blanche replied with a small smile, pulling the coat closer to his own body as he (and Vega) followed Gwen upstairs without an argument. It was then that he noticed the faint scent of sandalwood and sage drifting off of the fabric of Gwen’s coat, causing Blanche to swoon just a little and cuddle into it.

He felt his chest tighten in response and a slight pain swirled in his head.

Or maybe it was those extreme temperature fluctuations – hot, freezing, then hot again, all within a matter of minutes…

“I think I will,” he said, then swiftly expanded on that, “Keep wearing your coat, for a while, I mean. And also stay the night.” Although I’d rather be in your room, in your bed. But that was wishful thinking, and perhaps Blanche’s intolerance for extended periods of loneliness. (Or as a normal person would call it, ‘being single’.)

 He hopped onto the guest bed and dangled his feet over the side of it, kicking his feet in the air. “Canada, huh? Do you speak French?” he asked a moment later, his eyes still sparkling with curiosity.

He ignored the restricting feeling in his chest and attempted to rid himself of it by clearing his throat with a dry cough. It didn’t work. He attempted to continue talking, although he found that getting harder to do by the second. “I… I took some classes… in high school and college, but I’d love to learn more of it.” His face contorted into a slight grimace as he spoke, his voice a bit hoarse. “It’s… a pretty language.”


He hated this. It was so embarrassing… His face grew hot and he glanced away from Gwen, his right hand gripping his chest as he stood from the bed and disappeared towards the bathroom with a small, “be right back.”

Once safely behind the closed door, he leaned against the wall and reached in the pocket of his jeans for his inhaler. A quick breath of it and his physical symptoms started to disappear, but his embarrassment still lingered and he dreaded going back out before he composed himself. He turned on the sink and splashed some cool water on his face, stared at his own reflection in the mirror for a minute or two, and then finally reemerged back into the guest room.

“Anyways,” he said, as nonchalantly as humanly possible, “You were saying?”

A breath caught in Blanche’s throat, both from the warmth of the coat that was selflessly hung around his shoulders, and from the warmth and sincerity of Gwen’s voice. Blanche’s hands gripped tighter to his own arms as he stood there, gazing into the other man’s sparkling eyes – not like emeralds, he realized, but like morning dew coating a lush, green field, swaying in the breeze, and his golden hair like the light of the sun warming the grass.

For a moment, he was transported there, and his heart skipped a few beats as he thought about it… He could almost feel the warmth of the sun on his face, and the wetness of the grass on his bare toes, and hear the buzzing of bees going about their daily business.

Until finally, another whip of fierce, cold wind brought him back to reality, and he sucked in a breath and nodded, swallowing the remnants of the sob in his throat with a slight tremble.

“You’re welcome,” he murmured finally, his voice barely coherent above the howling wind. He leaned forward, resting his weight against Gwen, and buried his face in his warm chest with a simple sigh. His body was almost instantly warm just by the subtle embrace; it was almost unbelievable how soft and inviting the other male was. Just… don’t forget, okay?

After a few moments of silence, Blanche realized he was probably intruding on the other male’s personal space, but secretly, he didn’t regret it at all, even though he apologized. “Sorry,” he said, quietly and sheepishly, before making his decision to head back inside the house with him.

He thought he might even have to stay the night here, if the weather didn’t let up, soon. He thought about his pets for a moment, but he had deliberately left the heater on in his house for them, and they all had plenty of food and water when he had left this morning, so they should be fine.

“H-here…” he started, once they were both back inside the home, thinking it appropriate to give Gwen his coat back, even though Blanche’s body was still shivering from the cold. He unwrapped the coat from his shoulders and offered it to him. “Thanks.” Although he wondered if Gwen was cold… Well, he had to be, although he didn’t really show any signs of being affected by it. He thought Gwen must have been a true northerner. Maybe he was from Alaska or something, and the cold didn’t bother him that much.

“You… you said you guys just moved here, too, right?” he asked, but then continued without leaving room for an answer to the question, “From where? And where were you born?” 

Blanche said nothing more, merely reached for Gwen’s wrist and gently pulled him along outside into the flurry of snow and wind. It was a frozen hell outside, but it was warmer than being subjected to Vincente’s icy gaze, anyways.

“Gwen-” he started, albeit the fierce chill that racked his body cut his words short and he struggled to pull his own coat closer to his body, and put his hands underneath his armpits where they could at least retain some semblance of warmth, if he was lucky.

“You know what this looks like, right?” he asked, pleadingly, desperately. He could already feel the burn of tears behind his eyes, (in fact he had felt them coming on while he was still sitting there talking to Vincente, just a minute ago) yet he refused to let them fall just yet. “I’ve… seen people in situations like this before. You know… you know, you don’t have to stay here.”  He wished there had been someone to say that to him years ago.

“I have an extra bedroom at my place, if you need somewhere to go, even just for a while.” Never mind that they had just met, and that he had been instantaneously smitten by the other male, too. “I’m sorry I was angry at you at first, but when you said he wasn’t your boyfriend, I… I don’t know. And I’m sorry for dragging you out into a blizzard, too.” He laughed, for a moment, before he glanced at his car, his subtle smile gone again. It really would be hell trying to get back home in this storm, but he judged it was worth the risk, if Gwen agreed to it. If not, he wasn’t going anywhere without him.

Blanche rolled his eyes. “Yeah, ‘cause you’re that much older than me,” he retorted, sticking his tongue out at Gwen.

He turned to Vincente, his playful manner quickly fading back to ‘annoyed five-year-old’. “The only reason I’d come here to look at animals is if you had any that you couldn’t possibly transport to the office, whether they were too big or too sick.” The Great Danes were big, but at least they could still fit in a car. Although, if it was requested, the office would still send someone out, but Blanche didn’t say anything about that. “Anyways, the office is on the other side of town…” Grudgingly, he reached in his pocket for his wallet and procured a plain business card with the name of the office, its address, and phone numbers printed on it.  He set it on the coffee table. “But here.”

He had no qualms about helping the dogs, but he didn’t have to see Vincente to do that.

Vincente’s profession didn’t come as a surprise to Blanche, either. The guy definitely had the stuck-up personality for it. “Yeah, I bet…” he murmured quietly to himself, although soon after, an awkward and heavy quietness had settled on the small group.

Blanche glanced around for another few moments before he said, “Well, I… I should get home.” He stood up and forced a smile to Vincente before he turned to Gwen, his blue eyes steeped in concern. He used his hand to cover one side of his mouth so that Vincente couldn’t see, and slowly mouthed to Gwen the words, ‘come with me?’  

“I’m twenty-six,” Blanche responded flatly, feeling the need to clarify, although he did have the suspicion that Vincente had said that just to spite him… maybe… even though Vincente wasn’t wrong in assuming that Blanche got asked for his ID often, anyways.

“And I’m a veterinarian. I work at an office outside of town, although most of my jobs are off-site.”

Taking another look around, Blanche admitted that Vincente did have another nice point. The house was gorgeous, and although he really wasn’t that knowledgeable of the art world, Blanche wondered just how many of the paintings decorating the walls were original or not, because Vincente didn’t seem like the type of guy who’d settle for fakes.

Either way, they’d be expensive. Probably more expensive than the house itself.

He must have had some high-paying job. Much higher than a rural, just-out-of-school veterinarian.

He shot a quick glance at Gwen before he turned back to the other male and asked, “What do you do, Vincente?” He was as curious as he was just slightly intimidated. 

“Not your boyfriend?” Blanche repeated incredulously, blinking, for a moment, although didn’t have a chance to ask about it as the man in question had returned from the kitchen. His bright blues followed Vincente as he gave Gwen the drink and sat across from them in the armchair.

But… something still isn’t right here.

Subtly, he glanced from Gwen again, to Vincente, and back to Gwen.

“I, uh,” he started, distracted by his own thoughts for a moment, eyes lingering on Gwen before he finally turned his attention back to Vincente. “No. I haven’t been here very long… I just graduated, and moved here for a job.”

But his mind was reeling. What was the nature of their relationship, then? Blanche couldn’t help but worry about the worst-case scenarios.

He was quiet, for a few moments, then suddenly asked, hoping that it wasn’t too conspicuous of a question, “Are you two… Are you the only ones who live here?”