Page 36 of Fixing the Grumpy Pumpkin King
“Technically that’s what I am.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I do.”
“I can’t believe elves are real.”
“Fae.”
“Shut up and kiss me.” Locke pulled him down, and Jack came willingly.
The kiss was different this time. Desperate. Locke’s hands tangled in Jack’s hair that was soft and thick and so much of it while Jack’s hands found his waist and pulled him closer. Lockecould feel the magic humming through the air around them, responding to Jack’s emotions, making leaves dance and flowers bloom and the temperature fluctuate between crisp and warm.
Locke kissed him like he was drowning, and Jack was air. Jack kissed back like he’d been waiting 259 years for this exact moment and couldn’t quite believe it was finally happening.
When they broke apart, both breathing hard, Locke grinned. “You’ve been walking around shirtless making me breakfast for three weeks,” he said. “You knew exactly what you were doing to me.”
Jack blinked, genuinely confused. “I had no idea. I don’t wear shirts in the Loam.”
“You’re killing me,” Locke said, pulling him back down. “You’re actually killing me, and you don’t even know it.”
“Then allow me to finally sate you,” Jack murmured against his mouth. Then he gestured, and a bed appeared behind them.
Not a mortal bed. A bed of autumn leaves, thick enough to cushion, soft as down. It looked like something from a dream, from a painting, from every fantasy Locke had ever had about what magic could be.
“Lie down,” Jack said softly.
Locke’s breath caught. “Bossy.”
“Locke.” Jack’s hand cupped his jaw again. “I need you to tell me you want this. That you want ME. Not just the magic or the novelty. Me.”
He reached up, tracing the point of Jack’s ear again just to watch him shiver. “I want you,” he said clearly. “I want Jack, the grumpy deity who complains about plastic decorations and taught me I was full of magic. I want the person who’s made every single day interesting since the moment I accidentally summoned him. I want YOU.”
“Then you have me,” Jack breathed, and guided him down onto the bed of leaves. He had imagined this moment athousand times since he realized he was in love with Locke. But imagination was nothing compared to reality.
Locke beneath him, flushed and eager and so beautiful it hurt. The Harvest Moon casting amber light across his pale skin, making his freckles stand out like stars against a twilight sky. His blond hair spread across the autumn leaves, pieces of gold and red tangled in the strands.
Jack kissed him again, slower this time, taking his time to learn the taste of him. Locke’s hands were everywhere: in his hair, on his shoulders, sliding down his back, like he couldn’t decide where to touch first.
“Off,” Locke muttered against his mouth, tugging at his own shirt. “Get this off.”
Jack pulled back just enough to help, lifting the fabric over Locke’s head and tossing it aside. Then Locke’s chest was bare, pale in the moonlight, and Jack forgot how to breathe.
He’d seen Locke shirtless before. Walking around the apartment in the morning, stretched out on the couch reading, that one time he’d come out of the shower and Jack had walked directly into a doorframe. But this was different. This was permission. This wasfor him.
“You too,” Locke said, reaching for Jack’s robes. “Fair is fair.”
Jack let the robes dissolve with a thought. Magic, convenient for many things, including rapid undressing.
Locke’s eyes went wide. “That’s not... that shouldn’t be hot. The magical clothes thing. But it is. That’s so hot.”
Jack laughed, breathless, and leaned down to kiss the hollow of his throat. Locke’s pulse jumped under his lips. “You find the strangest things attractive.”
“Have you MET you?” Locke gasped as Jack kissed lower, across his collarbone. “Everything about you is strange and I love all of it.”
Jack paused, looking at him. “You love it?”
“I love you, you ridiculous man,” Locke said, pulling him back up for another kiss. “Now stop asking questions and start doing something about the fact that we’re both half-naked under a magical moon.”
