He was the last person to give advice. He was still unsure that he’d done the right thing a few hours ago by kissing Alun as if he were the last meal on Earth while jerking him off. That was not how one took things slowly. And although Alun had been very reassuring about it all, there was an underlying tension in him. Of course, that might have something to do with what he had in that trunk. Craig was pretty sure it wasn’t blankets and water, but he wasn’t about to challenge the guy. If Alun thought it was important enough to risk Alex’s wrath by keeping the secret, then that was all Craig really needed to know.
“After what he’s been through, will he even be able to bear my touch? I’d walk through fire for him, but I don’t want to scare him…or repulse him.”
“I’m not really in a position to reassure you on that front.” Craig grimaced. “From what I’ve heard, though, he loves you. And you obviously love him, so…”
“Love conquers all?”
“That’s what they say.”
Christos was quiet for a little while before asking, “What’s your secret?”
“My secret?”
“I saw you with Alun. He was curled against you like a cat, and he let you…touch him.”
Craig winced, not happy with the confirmation that what he’d shared with Alun hadn’t stayed strictly between them. “Yeah, about that—”
“I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable or pry. I know you humans are more circumspect, but it’s a fucking miracle to my mind that you’ve gotten past his trauma in such a short period of time. If you’d asked me a few weeks ago, when you first met him at the soup kitchen, I would have said that he was never going to warm up to you—or anyone. Yet here you are.”
Craig scratched at his earlobe, trying to find something useful to say. “I really don’t have any words of advice. There’s just something about him that grabbed me by the balls and hasn’t let go. Failing with him is unthinkable, so I operate with that in mind. I’m taking it slow, too. Or,” he added with a rueful grin, “I thought I was. Alun had other ideas.”
“He feels safe with you.”
“God, I fucking hope so. I’d castrate myself before putting fear in his eyes.”
Christos turned to clap him on the shoulder. “I don’t think that’s going to be necessary. Although I bet Harry would tell you that Alun’s recovery will not happen in a straight line. There may be some backtracking.”
“That’s a very good point and one you should keep in mind yourself. Mateo might be unable to embrace you at first—not physically or emotionally. Give him space and time and make sure he understands that you will stick, no matter what. If I were a betting man, I’d say your boy is right now sure that all he has to do is hold on and you’re coming for him.”
“I am, yes. God help anyone who gets in my way.” The cold fury in the alien’s eyes was awesome in all the meanings of the word. And as he looked at them, they turned red for a few seconds.
“Wow. You guys are scary motherfuckers.”
Christos smiled and his eye color turned to its normal violet. “That we are. I appreciate the talk. Now go and find your boy. Last I saw, he was heading to the shower. I bet he could use a bit of reassurance. It’s going to be a scary night.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
Craig trotted back to the house and weaved his way through the throng of men. The tension was palpable, everyone a combination of nerves and determination. Over in the corner of the great room stood Alex, Quinn and Harry in deep discussion. He wondered briefly what was up before continuing on his way. Finding Alun and making sure he was okay physically and mentally was his paramount goal at the moment. He found him coming out of the guest room bath on the second floor, a towel slung around his slender hips, his eyes focused on crossing the hall to get into a bedroom. The sight of him caused Craig to come up short, his mouth hanging open in an unspoken greeting.
Holy shit!
He’d been wise enough not to say the words out loud, but somehow Alun heard them anyway and turned in his direction before reaching his destination. He stood there, frozen, much as Craig was. As they stared at each other, tears formed in the man’s eyes. That was like a punch to the gut, far worse than the evidence of the violence Alun had endured that Craig was cataloguing on his lover’s body. And lovers was what they were now. What had passed between them had been more than a quick hand job.
“Oh, baby,” he finally pushed past the lump in his throat. Holding open his arms, he went to hug Alun.
But he put out a hand, stopping Craig momentarily in his tracks. “Don’t. Don’t touch me. Don’t look at me.” Alun ran the rest of the way into the room and would have shut the door in Craig’s face, except he didn’t let him. Instead, Craig entered right behind him and shut them both in.
Alun scurried to the other side of the bed. “Leave!”
Craig pulled himself together. He had to get this right for the sake of their relationship and Alun’s sense of self-worth. This wasn’t really a surprise. When he’d slipped his hand down Alun’s pants, he’d felt bumps and ridges, and some part of him had known at the time that it was scar tissue. He’d thought it might have been from a C-section. And there was certainly a long vertical scar that had to be from giving birth. Alun hadn’t been given the benefit of a bikini cut, like Craig’s sister-in-law had. It had been a different time and no one had given a shit about Alun’s body anyway. It was the rest of it—scars and burns damn near everywhere—that made him see red, much like the color Christos’ eyes had been. Alun’s body was a road map of torture.
“I’m upset,” he admitted in a quiet voice. “It hurts to see what you endured. It’s like a physical pain, but it’s nothing like what you must have suffered. I knew you were strong and brave, but this…” He shook his head. “Baby, I’m in awe. You’re amazing.”
“I’m hideous.”
Craig shook his head again. “No. Not at all. You’re beautiful.” He walked toward him, careful not to spook him with sudden movements. He was rather afraid that Alun might bolt right out of the open window behind him. A nice breeze filtered through and the voices of some of the others drifted up. The big, brass bed between them would be a wonderful place to lie down together. It would be the perfect bed for fucking, except that was definitely the wrong thing to think.
Or maybe not.
“You believe I can’t see you past the scars?” When Alun nodded once, Craig continued. “You’re wrong. Here’s how you know that I’m telling you the truth.” He pressed the heel of his fly, willing his cock to get with the program. He’d been hard for the entire trip, his boner deflating only because of how angry he was about Alun’s brutalization. It didn’t take much to coax it to life. All he had to do was picture that towel slipping to the floor.
“Do you see what you do to me?” Removing his hand, he held open his arms to display his obvious desire. “If you let me, I’d lay you down on this bed and make love to you.”
“You can’t mean that,” Alun whispered. Someone outside laughed loudly, making Alun flinch. “I can’t do this. I don’t know why I ever thought I could. I’m less than useless. I want to go home, but I don’t know where that is and I can’t leave without Merlin. I’ve failed him all his life. I can’t do it again.” He looked at Craig with tears in his eyes. “Tell me what to do.”