xx. close to me

[Deleted]

Hair matted and slicked to his forehead, his breathing steadied itself, releasing his hold on the headboard and instead twining his thin fingers together with Rhys'. Distantly, through the dying haziness, he heard Rhys say something, and in response gave a soft and questioning, "Hmm?" Ezra's eyes peeled open, blinking for a moment before settling on Rhys. Reaching with his other hand, he carded his fingers through the other man's equally sweaty hair, pushing it out of his face. Eyes softening, he smiled, feeling an overwhelming surge of emotion wash it's way through every fiber of his being. "I love you." He repeated with unmistakable sincerity, before adding with a hint of amusement. "You stink." - - The sunlight poured in through the windows of their bedroom, and Ezra made a mental note to pick up curtains next time they were out. Beside him, curled up and snoring softly was Jonah, and as always, on top of him was Rhys. He could feel his shirt was soaked through with sweat, and knew without a shadow of a doubt he'd get corralled into the shower that morning. Gently kneading his fingertips into Rhys' bare shoulder to rouse him, he asked with a raspy, sleepy voice, "What time are your clients coming over?" Not that Ezra had any particular plans that hinged on the visitors, other than cuddling Rhys close for as long as he could that morning before being coerced into showering and going about the morning routine they'd started keeping together.

. . . I can't begin to let you know just what I'm feeling . . . Séance @rhysand

template by rem of WW

[googlefont=Dancing Script]

[Deleted]

The fingers against his shoulder pulled a childish groan out of Rhysand. Ezra's voice, though, could've brought him back from the grave. Rhys cracked open one eyelid and inhaled through his teeth at how bright the room was. He buried his face in Mournspire's neck. "-s'time is it?" Came Rhysand's stubborn voice from his hiding place. When Ezra gave an answer, he sighed into his lover's skin. The PI braced his weight on his knees so he could shift it off of Mournspire. He cupped the other man's cheek and stared into his eyes. "We stink," he rumbled softly, and tiredly rested his forehead against Ezra's. Rhysand started to crawl backwards off of the mattress, and as he went he left a trail of kisses down Mournspire's leg, ending with a last one on his big toe. Standing, Rhys looked down at where Ezra lay in the middle of their new bed, admiring the way the sunlight kindled the sweat on his pale skin, marveling at how f**king beautiful he was. Without a word, Rhysand held out a hand to help Ezra off the bed, then towed him into the bathroom. There, he helped Ezra out of his shirt, tossing it in the laundry hamper next to the washer/dryer behind the bathroom door. From there, Rhysand guided Ezra into the shower, but nothing productive happened. In fact, they ended up just holding each other under the shower head, dozing, sleepily pressing kisses to the other's shoulders and neck. "Do you..." Rhysand paused, chewing on the words. He felt like an idiot asking them, but a small speck of his heart was absolutely terrified, and wouldn't go away until he got an answer. "Do you still mean it?" Rhys had no doubt or regrets about confessing his love for Mournspire. He was, actually, the first person Rhysand had ever said those words to. But in the bright, new morning, he wondered cynically if Ezra had been swept up in the euphoria, or felt like he had to echo it back before.

. . . My head was war. My skin was soaked. I called your name 'til the fever broke . . . Omen @ezra

template by rem of WW

[googlefont=Dancing Script]

[Deleted]

Raking his fingers softly through Rhys' hair, he smiled, pressing his cheek against the head buried in his neck. Patting the bed for his phone, Ezra squinted, reading and then promptly rereading the time after failing to actually soak in the information the first time. "Quarter after eight." He answered, pressing a soft kiss to Rhys' hair. Feeling the other man shift, he pouted, leaning into the touch and fixing him with a look that toed the line of pleading despite knowing what was coming next. Unable to help the amusement, he cracked a smile, bumping his nose against Rhys' as their foreheads met. "Yeah, yeah." Pushing himself up onto his elbows, Ezra's head fell back as a pointed protest to getting out of bed. When he raised up once more, he met Rhys' eyes, offering a lazy, lopsided smile in return and biting back a teasing comment, letting the softness of the moment sink into his bones. It took a little convincing inwardly to sit up fully, but once he had, he took the outstretched hand, crowding against the older man and letting himself be shuffled towards the bathroom. Slowly slipping towards more awake once under the spray of warm water, he melted into the comfort, exchanging soft and unhurried kisses. Ezra was nearly to the point of falling back to sleep just standing there, but snapped totally awake at the timid question posed. Eyes alert, he looked at Rhys without a sliver of hesitation. "Of course I mean it." He responded firmly, hands raising to hold either side of his lover's face. "I love you, Rhys." Soothingly, he swiped the pad of his thumb over the other's cheek, a smile gathering on his lips as he did so.

. . . I can't begin to let you know just what I'm feeling . . . Séance @rhysand

template by rem of WW

[googlefont=Dancing Script]

[Deleted]

Any lingering shame that Rhysand had at asking his question was soothed with the sincerity in Ezra's eyes. His reassuring words made a small vice unfurl in his chest. Rather than smile, or look relieved, Rhys's glower just intensified. He rasped out a breath and closed his fierce grey eyes, and kissed Ezra slowly, deeply and thoroughly, his massive arms curling around his lover's torso to hold him close. - - - - - Rhysand walked into the kitchen a little later pulling on a T-shirt as he went. Ezra stood at the Keurig as the last of a pod drizzled into a clear drinking glass. It was clear protocol by that point that the lone, chipped coffee mug was Ezra's to use, and Rhys insisted on using a normal cup for it. The PI stepped up behind Ezra, looping his arms around the other man's waist. He gently bit the tender bit of skin where Ezra's neck met his shoulder, then kissed the reddening spot. Rhysand gave a content "Mmm," right into Ezra's veins. "Remind me to never take another client." As if on cue, a knock rapped on the door. Rhysand grumbled into Ezra's neck in irritation. Jonah gave a "wuff" of warning, but otherwise stayed sitting, alert and curious, in the kitchen with them. Rhys gave Ezra one last squeeze, then let him go and headed for the apartment door, calling ahead at the incessant knocking, "I'm coming! Keep your damn pants on."

. . . My head was war. My skin was soaked. I called your name 'til the fever broke . . . Omen @ezra

template by rem of WW

[googlefont=Dancing Script]

[Deleted]

After their shower, Ezra had gotten dressed and set about getting some of his own work done. Piddling around in socked feet, a worn out shirt and some loose (by Ezra standards) jeans, he refilled Jonah's water and fed him breakfast before turning to the Keurig. By now he'd made mental notes to pick up more mugs for the two of them, as much as he found their current situation unspeakably heartwarming, he worried Rhys might burn his hands one of these days. As the last of the pod drizzled into the clear drinking glass, he heard the approaching footsteps. A soft hum, almost a purr rumbled through his throat at the hold, and he leaned his head back against Rhys' shoulder, inhaling in sharp surprise at the muted nip, only to be soothed seconds later. Ezra let out a breathy laugh, pressing a kiss to the top of his lover's head. "I'll add it to the list." Parting with a quick peck to the other man's cheek, he went about replacing the pod in the Keurig, patting his leg for Jonah to come stand beside him, ruffling the fur atop the shepherd's head. Setting the drinking glass aside, he started the second pod, placing the chipped mug on the machine and letting it do it's work. Quick as he could, he slipped into the living room, setting the glass of coffee on a coaster for Rhys before grabbing a box of his own belongings to sort through later and sliding it  carefully into the kitchen just as the client stepped through the door. "-h are you moving?" He heard, and threw a glance over his shoulder, smiling to himself.

. . . I can't begin to let you know just what I'm feeling . . . Séance @rhysand

template by rem of WW

[googlefont=Dancing Script]

[Deleted]

"Oh! Are you Mr Scarborough?" The woman was in her late-twenties, if he had to guess. Her complexion and the faint, accented tilt to her words would've given Rhysand a ballpark of ethnicities to peg her as. The fact that he knew her full name, though, meant he knew that Kassandra Andino was Greek. "You Miss Andino?" he countered by way of answer. She smiled weakly. "Sorry. I didn't know if this was the right place. You really should get a sign." Rhys's grey eyes didn't shift. "Hmm," was all he said, and he stepped aside so she could come into the apartment. Ezra was on his way out of the common room with a box - Rhysand drank in one last shot of his ass before he disappeared. Miss Andino was still talking. "-h are you moving?" she asked, distracted from whatever the hell she'd been b*tching about before when she noticed the boxes. "No. Have a seat." Rhysand gestured absently to the sofa and Miss Andino, frowning, lightly perched on the very edge of the furthest cushion. Rhys walked around the back of the couch, grabbing his phone off the desk with one hand and his chair from it with the other. "You got my email. You know the rates and the agreements?" Miss Andino clutched her purse like a lifeline on her knees and nodded. Rhysand placed the chair at the end of the coffee table and dropped into it, leaning forward, forearms on knees, to look Miss Andino in the eye. "Well, then. What can I do for you?" "I've never done this before- Gone to a PI or anything. I wouldn't have, but a friend of mine said you're-" Miss Andino finally stopped looking at the apartment nervously and glanced to Rhys, whose dead stare shut her up. "What can I do for you?" She swallowed, gathered her thoughts and said, "It's my ex..." From there the consultation turned into an interview. Miss Andino's former lover, Carlton Mercer, was gearing up to try to get custody of their two year-old daughter, Nadine. Miss Andino was sure that the kind of world Carlton lived in wasn't fit for the kid - which was why she left him in the first place. Problem was, she had no proof about the supposedly criminal things Carlton allegedly did. Which was where Rhysand came in. By the time Rhys was walking Miss Andino out of the apartment, she'd given him a chunk of information to sort through, and was going to email all the rest. "So you'll keep me updated?" Miss Andino asked over her shoulder, standing in the hall. "I've got your number. Don't forget that email. Sooner you send it, sooner I can get started." Rhysand shut the door, then, and, one hand on his hip, massaged his temples with the other.

. . . My head was war. My skin was soaked. I called your name 'til the fever broke . . . Omen @ezra

template by rem of WW

[googlefont=Dancing Script]

[Deleted]

Bits and pieces of conversation drifted into the kitchen, though Ezra more or less zoned out. Sitting on the floor with the chipped mug of coffee within reach, he went through the box in front of him. It was mostly smaller stuff, books, a few of Jonah's toys that had made it through the collapse. Taking out a stuffed, bone shaped toy, he handed it to the shepherd and watched him walk off to their bedroom with it. After sifting for a little, his stomach growled, and he got up. Pushing the box out of the way, he stepped over to the fridge and collected some groceries they'd picked up the other day, heating up the stove. Ezra was definitely not the greatest at cooking, but he certainly wasn't the worst. Shutting off the stove, he made quick work of washing up the dishes, drying off his hands just as he heard the door shut. Ezra grabbed the two plates- he'd made grilled cheese, it was simple enough that he couldn't mess it up -before moving into the common room and setting them on the coffee table before crossing further. Looping his arms around Rhys' waist, he rested his head against the other man's shoulder with a small smile, pressing a quick peck to his cheek. "She didn't seem so bad. Little chatty. Though I suppose that's saying a lot coming from me." He laughed, tightening his embrace before releasing and instead moving to knead the tension in Rhys' shoulders.

. . . I can't begin to let you know just what I'm feeling . . . Séance @rhysand

template by rem of WW

[googlefont=Dancing Script]

[Deleted]

True to his promise the night before, Ezra was on his absolute best behavior throughout the entire consultation with Miss Andino. Technically. It wasn't his fault. He wasn't even in the same room, but Rhysand had held the image of him in his radar sense like a coveted treasure the entire time. Now, with the client gone, Rhys marked Ezra coming up behind him. Those lanky arms wound around Rhysand's waist, and he leaned his head against Ezra's, giving a contented "Hmm," at the kiss. He remembered how it was not that long ago. After a consult, Rhys would waste no time plunging directly into the case, normally texting the client a few added questions before they'd even made it out of the building. With Ezra? Rhysand was already dragging his feet. He'd much rather spend the rest of the day worshiping and conquering every inch of his lover's body than doing PI work. Ezra's fingers began massaging tension out of his muscled shoulders and Rhysand lolled his head back with a sigh. "I hate people," he muttered. Then, turning to enfold Ezra fully in his arms, he spoke into his neck, "You're the only one who gets a pass." Rhys's nostrils flared. By that point in their relationship, he'd explained in as great a detail as he could how his powers worked. Not only the radar, but how heightened his other senses were on top of that. So it wasn't entirely weird, then, when Rhysand groaned into Ezra's throat, saying, "You smell so f**king good." His eyes fluttered open and locked on the lunch waiting on the coffee table. "And you made lunch," Rhysand observed, absently running his tongue over Ezra's neck afterward from where his lips were still burrowed.

. . . My head was war. My skin was soaked. I called your name 'til the fever broke . . . Omen @ezra

template by rem of WW

[googlefont=Dancing Script]

[Deleted]

With a small laugh, Ezra let his hands rest on Rhys' shoulders after he'd turned, leaning into the hug happily. "I'll try not to let it go to my head, but I'm sure it already has." He replied, flashing a toothy grin. Part of him pointed out that it wasn't all that long ago that Rhys couldn't hardly stand him, but if he was totally honest with himself, he didn't exactly make things easier. Sinking further into their embrace, he pressed a soft kiss to the nape of his lover's neck, chest shaking with a muffled giggle at the groan. "You're gonna give me a complex if you keep it up." Ezra teased. The attention to the sensitive skin of his neck drew him even closer, fingers curling and flexing absently against the fabric of Rhys' shirt. "I did. It's not much but I figured it'd be enough for now." Gradually he pulled out of the hold, swiping a stray tuft of hair out of Rhys' face before turning slightly to look at the couch for a moment before turning his eyes to the older man once more. "We better get to it before it gets cold." With that, Ezra moved to the couch, both to avoid any further temptation and to acknowledge his groaning stomach. Curling up at the end of the couch, he brought the plate to his lap. Taking a bite of one of his sandwiches, he glanced at the other man with a brow arched curiously, swallowing before saying, "So...about your case. Do you think it'd be alright if I...helped?" It was an idea he'd been playing with for a bit. While he was certain he wouldn't be nearly as good at detective work, he was sure he could get better. Technically, if he wanted or needed to, he still had the job offer from Astaria's Research Facility. He could easily call them and let them know he wanted the position. Though after everything that had happened, Ezra had tried to imagine going back to a normal day job working in a lab, and while it was an option it didn't seem to fit as well as it could've, especially now that he'd gotten a taste of something a fair bit more interesting. Part of him fully expected Rhys to say no, however, considering how dangerous his particular case had been. He figured altogether there was no harm in asking.

. . . I can't begin to let you know just what I'm feeling . . . Séance @rhysand

template by rem of WW

[googlefont=Dancing Script]

[Deleted]

Ezra gently pulled out of their embrace and Rhysand watched him move toward the couch like he was a daydream before belatedly moving to follow. Rhys perched on the edge of the middle cushion, Ezra's knee brushing his hip. With his forearms on his thighs, Rhysand tore into one of the sandwiches meant for him with one hand, checking his phone with the other to see if his client had emailed him. She hadn't - of course she hadn't, she'd probably just made it a block away by foot - and he glowered at the screen, annoyed. His lover's voice called him out of his grumping. Rhysand looked over his shoulder at the other man, one brow ticking significantly up because of the careful tone he was using. The question came and Rhys's expression shifted to contemplative. He sat his phone on the coffee table and reclined against the back of the couch. "Hmm." Rhysand hadn't really thought that much into the logistics of the coming days. The rational part in him pointed out there was only so long that he could keep a never-blinking eye on Ezra. The rest of him snarled at that observation. Rhysand had been planning on dragging his lover around on the case he'd just taken, but this? This was a new angle he hadn't thought of before. "You did behave yourself during the consult just now," Rhysand thought out loud, secretly loving letting Ezra dangle there. He chewed another bite thoughtfully and swallowed, looking slyly over at the other man. "Sure, why not? You can be my sexy intern," and Rhysand smiled, softly. The thought of Ezra helping him on a case was... Actually, it made his chest ache in all the best ways.

. . . My head was war. My skin was soaked. I called your name 'til the fever broke . . . Omen @ezra

template by rem of WW

[googlefont=Dancing Script]