Archive of Our Own ^beta

Alec landed awkwardly, and knew from the minute he did so he had ruined the chase.

His ankle snapped in some odd direction and sent him skittering over onto his other knee, grazing it something vicious against the cobbles of the lowtown roads. He didn’t have time to yelp as his back slid and his hands grappled ineffectually for purchase, rewarded with a nasty scrape along the inside of his right palm for the efforts.

Without a pause to inspect the damage he lurched back upright, testing his left leg - for a sweet second he felt nothing - then the sharp pain twisted, like a nail driven between the pieces of bone. He groans, just a little under his breath; a sprain or worse he couldn't yet tell, but he had no time for either. With a grunt, he takes an awkward step - feeling blood leaking from the other knee, thick as it coagulated across the surface of grated skin. He didn’t even want to think of the street slime that would be mixing in, or how damp his right side felt from slipping in it. The pain lanced up from the joint to at least halfway up his shin, and he grits his teeth against it.

Then he set out at a hurried limp.

Behind him, he could hear the clattered steps of the city guard, no more than a street turn away. They were dislodging street vendors and beggars from underfoot as they wended through the busy crowds, searching for the hooded figure who had just slipped just out of sight - but he doubted he would have much time. Panic sets his heart beating like a hammer against his ribs, and for a moment he feels the green boy Seregil pulled from the dungeon those long years ago. He takes a breath and steadies himself; if life as a nightrunner and a Watcher had taught him anything, it was about keeping a firm handle on himself, even in dire situations. And compared to a dyrmagnos, how hard could it be to elude the city guard?

Steadied for the moment and fending off the pain, he wracked his brain - if he could just remember one of the secret caches Seregil had left, some alley way or decrepit hovel that could offer some meagre refuge, he would be gone. The pain lacing up his leg in pulses wasn’t helping and he grits his teeth, pulling his cloak hood down further to better obscure his face. Just ahead he spies a side alley, and for a brief moment a rush of hope pounds through him; if this was the right one, it would lead down a few more streets and then turn to a hiding cache that was disguised as a cellar, disused and covered in street refuse.

He hobbles down it quickly, and any hope he had shatters. He’s met face first with a looming wall, bricks slick with moss and too high to climb. He could scurry up the branches of an ancient oak fine, but Seregil had always had a finesse with scaling impossible walls, and it was a talent he wished had rubbed off, as he claws at the old brick futilely, scraping his fingers and dislodging a little of the mortar with his efforts. The guards couldn’t be far behind now, and he feels his breathing echo in his ears, along with the rush of blood and the pounding of his heart. This could spell the end for young Alec of Ivywell’s good reputation. Being dragged through the streets by the city guard could ruin him - not to mention land him in the tower for breaking and entering, and further questioning.

It was almost impossible to hear anything over the rush of his heart beat, but for a split second, he thought he heard the slightest peep of a sound.. A whistle? He takes a few slow, steadying breaths as he shifts himself back to the wall - the only part even slightly hidden beneath the lonely shadow of the sill above. It’s a dilapidated looking window frame - he hadn’t noticed it in his mad dash in.

He hears the little noise again, and it clicks instantly; a quiet whistle similar to the call of the nightjars of Aurenen. There could only be one possible source of the noise, and he can’t help the grin that splits his face and eases the pounding in his chest - he was certain his heart had been about to climb out his mouth. A moment later and a face peeks over the windowsill, shadowed by the angle. But even from light above that shadows his face from the alley gutter view, Alec can imagine the expression on his talimenios’ face.

Without a question, Seregil leans bodily over the sill, arm out stretched, and Alec takes it. It's a half haul, half scrabble to get him up and in through the frame above and he flops bodily through not a moment too soon. As soon as he grunts face first across the dusty floorboards of the little abandoned dwelling, and Seregil hastily pulls the last of his cloak through, the clatter of the guards spills into the alley below. There is a quick growl of dissent upon finding the dead end empty, before they turn and march on seeming dispirited. Seregil looks as if he might burst from chuckling, and bites his lip with a little huff to keep himself quiet.

Alec has enough dignity left to send him a withering look.

“You need to work on your nightjar calls, Tali - you sounded a little like a squeaky door, at first,” He sniffs, having grown up recognizing bird calls and mimicking them back. Alec doesn’t doubt Seregil practiced it himself - he can imagine it is just the kind of trick he would have used, sneaking out late with Kheeta and his friends back in Aurenen.

Seregil really does laugh then, snorting as he steps over and hooks an arm under Alec’s.

“Of course, Tali. You’ll have to give me lessons,” He teases, and Alec rolls his eyes, promising himself to take him up on it when they are safely back at The Stag & Otter. He tries not to flinch as he draws himself upright from the rather ragged heap he had landed in when scrabbling through the window. Beggars couldn’t be choosers after all, but he wishes he’d landed with a little more grace as his ankle gives another painful pang. He bites back the cry as he tries to right himself, and Seregil shifts his grip a little, concern replacing the humour on his handsome face. His arm curls round Alec’s back and Alec leans into the touch despite himself, glad that he had come.

“How did you know..?” Alec asks, trying to ignore the sting to his pride that his ‘old mentor’ still thought he needed to be babied. Seregil hadn’t been his teacher for a few years now, and their skill at breaking and entering, (and all other manner of less than legal activity notwithstanding) having come quite even. Seregil shakes his head at the quiet allegation in his friend’s voice.

“I didn’t Tali - I was coming this way on another job - you know, the one about fetching some dockside papers? And I happened hear the commotion while coming past,” He grins a little though, as he raises one brow.

“Alec two-lives, eh? I think we might have just added a third,” He grins a little roguishly, but Alec knew it was a sore subject still. But with every passing joke, it became easier to stomach - anything seemed survivable with a little distance from the event. Even death.

“I suppose you could say the Lightbearer works in mysterious ways.”

Alec nods a little wearily then, the weariness from the chase catching up with him all at once now he was safe. Leaning more on Seregil he rests his head against the jut of his tali’s sharp, finely boned cheek. He nuzzles against him for a second, glad for the warmth and the touch of his skin. There had been rain just before, and his clothes were soaked, and dampened further by his skid across the cobbles.

“I’m glad you came,” He mumbles and he feels Seregil shift again - brushing his lips, warm and sweet against his own.

“As am I.”

The trip back to The Stag & Otter was slow, painful, and tense. The guard seemed to have given up; but they had ben green recruits hungry for a chance to prove themselves, and catch any shady sort, criminal or otherwise. The threat lingered over the pair as they picked their way through crowds, occasionally taking a swift turn down a darkened alley or underpass and breaking any sort of navigable trail.

When Alec finally collapsed in the rooms on the closest chair to the door, it was with a mighty sigh of relief - his legs felt like jelly. He’d limped badly up the stairs half carried by Seregil, but the pain in his ankle had only increased till his joints seemed to be screaming for a moment's respite. His knee with a sticky mess of blood through his torn pants, and the scrape on his palm had little specs of street dirt in it. He gingerly plucked them out and tore off a patch of loose skin with a utilitarian efficiency as Seregil drew a bath.

After only a few minutes (and when Alec was a little more pleased with the state of his scrape - speck free, at least) Seregil came over to collect him. His skin was flush from the steam in the bathroom and warm to the touch as he helped pull Alec from his damp cloak, tunic and breeches. He didn’t bother waiting for him to rise - or to inform him, either. Instead, in a quick motion he hoists Alec up bridal style into his arms, and it’s all Alec can do to cling about his neck to stop them both from tumbling to the floor. He was a clear few centimetres taller than Seregil, but that didn’t seem to bother his talimenios. It has always been a slight to Seregil’s pride - he always puffed himself up whenever they measured against each other, but to no avail.

“Tali!” Alec manages to squawk, long skinny legs dangling dangerously, the jerking motion doing his sore ankle no favours. But Seregil only kisses his cheek and carries him onward resolutely - grip never faltering.

“Sorry, my lord, but you simply cannot walk any longer,” He decrees, and Alec for all his surprise cannot help but be a little relieved. He’s then rather carefully lowered into the large, claw footed tub in the bathroom. Alec can’t help but let out a pleased acclamation.

“Bilairy’s balls this is good!” He sighs as the steam seems to buffet his skin as it rolls off the bath water, already fighting back the chill that sunk all the way through him - like a haunch of venison left in winter’s snow. The warm water does do wonders as soon as he starts to sink in, Seregil’s steady hands hovering round him for a moment to assure he’s comfortably placed. Seemingly content, his astute attendant moves on to his hair, carefully undoing the braid that had come half undone and is no doubt flecked with street muck from the slip earlier.

Alec instead allows himself to simply float - the water is a soothingly pleasant temperature. Not quite scalding, but warm enough that the heat seems to sink through and into his bones, warming him all the way through. He sighs contentedly, wriggling his toes as he feels his muscles loosen and the tension across his shoulders release. Seregil had sprinkled the warm water with some kind of herb, and it smelt wonderful - flowery but not too sticky sweet, with a hint of citrus.

“You always did have a knack for bathes,” Alec hums, voice half muffled as his chin dips below the water. Seregil was busy finger combing through his hair.

“It's the ‘faie in me, Tali. You know how seriously our people take bathing,” He returns light heartedly, and Alec chuckles, feeling the water form bubbles against his lips. The experience was blissful. Seregil was already done fettering about with the knots, and was lathering some sweet smelling soap through his hair. His strong fingers brushing against his scalp as he did so, and massaging the base of his neck. He can’t help but give another, soft, small little sigh as he unwinds into the familiar and safe grip of his love. Seregil’s presence and gentle, firm fingers applying just the right amount of pressure to the right spots was just the kind of spoiling he needed, after a haggard day in the cold on the run.

He looks down at the scrape on his knee, washed clean by a good seeping (and Seregil with a washcloth as he’d stripped out of all his clothes) in the water, and notes it didn’t seem too deep. His ankle hurt a great deal less just for being left to float, though it looked bruised and a little swollen already. He didn’t realize he was frowning down at it till he’s surprised by the feeling of Seregil’s breath at the nape of his neck, just before he places a kiss to the skin there.

Somehow, compared to the water's temperature, Seregil’s lips feel cool, and it sends a small shiver down Alec’s spine, and a small noise from between his lips. With a snort he pokes Seregil’s nose back.

“Terrible creature,” He mumbles under his breath, and just in time, too - Seregil tips a small cups worth of bath water over his head, rinsing the suds from his hair and making him properly splutter with surprise. When he turns round, Seregil is wearing a devilish grin - so Alec leans across the short distance between the tub and kisses it off him. It seemed the only fair course of action. Atui had been settled.

“Oh?” Seregil mumbles, drawing back from Alec’s lips just the smallest bit.

“Am I now?” His cheeky grin is back in place as he shuffles back, dancing out of reach of anymore of Alec’s kisses. It is then that he notes that Seregil is not actually wearing a shirt. Now properly out of reach, he arcs an elegant brow as he notes Alec’s staring and sways his hips a little just for the attention. Alec returns with a sly smirk of his own before giving his tali a definitive nod.

Seregil started unlacing the front of his breeches to wriggle out of them, as well.

For a second, Alec gives himself a moment to appreciate him; his eyes roam down the smooth pale plane of Seregil’s chest, and linger on the little circular scar that remained, burnt into his skin forever (much to Seregil’s chagrin). The relief of the round wooden disc, its twin and mirror image pressed on his palm. Seregil looks back up, finally stripped of his comfortable doeskin breeches, and strides confidently over to the edge of the tub with only a reasonable amount of his usual swaggering. He is bare naked as he perched on the edge of the tub, and is sporting a mischievous twinkle in his crystalline blue eyes.

“The most terrible I know, in fact.” Alec confirms, but he can’t help the slight rush of warmth he can feel surge to his cheeks. It wasn’t just from the heat of the baths, either.

Seregil laughs again, and it's an easy, comforting sound - he laughs easier these days, more often and more freely than he did when they first met. By the time he steps into the tub, navigating Alec’s skinny long legs and being careful of his various injuries the pair of them have descended into giggles, just from the ungainly way Seregil had to perch on the lip of the bath, looking a little like an uncertain duckling needing to be coaxed to water. Finally, Seregil seems content, sat confidently between Alec’s legs. His dark brown hair is pulled free from the tail which he usually wore it in and tips of it just touching the water; he would be pleased with the length. He’d always hated cutting his own and especially Alec’s, but occasionally going undercover would require such drastic changes to appearance - haircuts included. Just as he suspected, Seregil’s fingers seem to somehow trail to his own hair still damp though now much cleaner, and he leans closer to fuss.

He curls Alec’s blonde lock about a finger before letting it fall back into place and instead cupping his cheek, gently. His eyes crinkle at the corners with fondness as he looks at him, and his thumb strokes down the line of his cheek.

Every time Seregil touches him, it feels as if it's for the first time. With a quiet sort of reverence as though he cannot believe they were both there, existing in space together. When he leans in to press his lips to Alec’s, it is soft and slow - his breath is warm, and his tongue darts across Alec’s bottom lip. He’s warmer than the temperature of the bath somehow, and when his fingers curl against Alec’s collarbone, it feels like fire. The feeling aches down his spine and coils in his tummy, and Seregil breaks the kiss with an appreciative chuckle, his other hand quite a bit lower than the one at Alec’s collar.

“Tali,” He hums, and Alec can feel the rumble of his voice all the way to his toes as he says that word almost at a purr. He kisses him again, a little fiercer this time - as if the first was just a taste. His tongue slips into Alec’s mouth and he can’t help the breathy little noise he makes as he opens his mouth a little wider for better access, leaning in himself. Somehow his hands are curled in Seregil’s hair, drawing him closer, and Seregil presses against him too. His hands move from Alec’s collar, tracing the line of the bone before skimming lower down his chest, his other hand edging across Alec’s hip bone teasingly.

Alec muffles a cry against Seregil’s lips, kissing him all the harder for it, but his tali draws back out of reach with a wicked expression. His thumb traces lazily across Alec’s nipple, teasing the sensitive skin while he dances his fingertips dangerously lower down, but never quite close enough to give any relief. Alec feels as if his skin is all the more sensitive from the difference in temperature - his chest not quite submerged and cooling a little tended by Seregil’s warm, talented fingers. He squirms just a little, gasping, and Seregil bites his lip and huffs appreciatively.

Somehow Alec has a knee beneath his tali, and grinds it against Seregil - rewarded for it with another little cry, and the feeling of something stiff pressed against his thigh. He smiles just a little, face flushed and limbs feeling heavy from the electrifying feeling currently racing down his nerves and curling in his fingers. He wraps a hand around Seregil’s shaft, grip teasingly light as he moves his hand back and forward, thumb tauntingly light at the tip. Seregil melts instantly in his hands, his grip going slack and one hand slapping wetly at the side of the tub before gripping the edge tight, his knuckles turning white.

He sits back against Alec’s thigh and rides with the motion with Alec’s hand, mouth already hanging a little ajar as he huffs. It's slow and steady at first, but he quickens the pace, and soon Seregil is bucking against his palm, breathing hard, hips jutting forward with each little motion. He moans, a hoarse needy sound from the back of his throat and Alec places a thumb against his tip, feeling precum beading there. It seems to be his turn to sport a rather wicked grin and Seregil leans forward, bending closer to kiss him fiercely once more, eyes heavy lidded with pleasure and breath still jumpy, hitching with each little movement of Alec’s hand.

There was something rather enjoyable about having Seregil like this - for all his teasing and slow reverence with touching Alec, he often liked it when his tali took control a little more. Besides, seeing Seregil enjoying it so much, needing him like this … Alec feels his heart thump against his chest, and realizes he’s biting his lip, just a little. Seregil huffs a little more, and his hand that had been idle slinks beneath the surface of the water, and traces the underside of Alec’s shaft. Then he takes it in his hand, forehead still pressed against Alec’s, breath delightful off kilter and hips pressing needily against Alec’s palm as he pumps him up and down.

The full handed pressure and friction snaps Alec to attention, and the fire in his belly roars to life.

“T-tali,” He manages to groan, shifting the pace of his own hand, and Seregil’s breathing quickens to match. He leans in, close enough to kiss but not quite, and he can feel the heat of him, his breath against his lips warm and kiss bruised. He whines nose pressed to Alec’s, and the need and the want is plain, his eyes closed in concentration as he jerks him off, pace only increasing.

Alec juts his hips against Seregil’s hand, feeling the friction build, the feeling leaving him wild with it. He can;t think straight anymore - his free hand balls in Seregil’s hair and yanks him to close the distance, the hand on Seregil’s dick pumping up and down in time wtih Seregil’s hand on him, working even faster now that he senses how close he is.

“Tali, t-tali I’m, I-I’m going t-to,..” But Alec cannot even finish the sentence, his teeth chattering from the pace of his heart and the pleasure rolling through him as he cums in a short burst that feels like the fireworks blasting through the whole of him, leaving him breathless. Seregil cums a few short seconds later, breathing as if he’d just run a flight across the rooftops of Rhiminee, his damp forehead still pressed to Alec’s. His face had gone slack with the joy of release, a small smile hovering at the edges of his parted lips.

He kisses Alec once more, a firm chaste kiss compared to the hungry open mouthed kisses from before, and brushes some of his fringe from his eyes. Then he wrinkles his nose.

“The bath waters dirty now,” He complains, though not with much gusto. He looks a little too pleased with himself and the shivers that are running up and down his spine pleasantly to even attempt looking put out.

“Nothing left but to towel off, eh Tali?”

Alec nods but can’t help leaning a little closer, and pressing his right hand to the disk scar across Seregil’s chest; mirror scars.

Seregil stills, and lets him, and Alec see’s the way his eyes rove over him - noting each and every scar, and probably blaming himself for all of them. There is a little tug of sadness, across the talimenios bond, and Alec is sure to convey a surge of his bubbling, roiling fondness and contentedness.

He sees the smile stretch all the way to Seregil’s eyes.

“I love you, tali,” He says voice soft but with such conviction. Alec smiles in return.

“And I you, tali.”