Page 80 of A Subtle Scar
I snorted. I needed to have a word with Ronny about this kind of thing. Chandler could never be given a hint of either one of us unwilling or unable to shower him with gifts worthy of a ten.
“Of course I settled the bill. Where to?”
“Let’s go back to my house. It’s quiet and cozy, and Chandler is tired.”
Our boyfriend chuckled. “I can’t really tell whether you want to fuck or not,” he mumbled.
I frowned at Ronny.
“He’s still coming down from being in shock,” Ronny said in a tone that indicated I should be able to deduce anything from the statement. I did not but tried not to look clueless.
“I’m not in shock. I’ve never been in shock in my life,” our boyfriend said.
He sounded like a shadow of himself, and if being in shock did that to you—I’d only ever heard about shock in humans who got too cold or lost too much blood—then he definitely needed care. I’d have to rub one out, after all, but that was fine.
“Whatever you say, darling. We still get to take care of you,” Ronny said, then nodded at me.
“Might as well take the leftovers. The pizza is actually decent,” Chandler said before I teleported us away.
“Sure,” I said, and Ronny and I picked up the plates.
I dropped the two of them back in Ronny’s bedroom, teleported to his kitchen where I stored the pies in the fridge, then teleported back upstairs again.
“Did you just steal a bunch of plates from the Musée restaurant?” Chandler asked. He was looking out the windows.
It was still light out here, and Ronny magicked the curtains closed and the lights on. Huh. He’d enchanted that curtain thing above his bed to give off a soft glow. I liked that better than the fairy lights strung up above his vanity.
“They won’t mind. I’m a super good tipper,” I said and stepped behind Chandler to massage his shoulders. It was more of an attempt to hide the boner I was still sporting, but the moment I touched him, I felt the tension sitting deep in his muscles.
“Hmm. Fuck. Why does that feel so good?” our boyfriend asked, head lolling to the side.
Ronny used the opening to get his clothes off in the quick, businesslike manner which, for some reason, was as sexy as when he stripped for effect.
“I have some massage oil. You can use that on him,” Ronny said and stepped out of his skinny pants. He’d had to use magic to get out of them so easily, the vain peacock.
At least I wasn’t the only one affected by Chandler. Of course seeing Ronny hard and fully naked, his black tresses running down his shoulders, didn’t exactly help me to calm down. Him walking into the bathroom to get the massage oil really wasn’t much of a reprieve either. Ronny, when he was naked, always made me want to fuck him, and while my ass was objectively the nicer one, I still enjoyed looking at his.
Chandler, instead of staring, looked off to the side. The shyness was unexpected after last night. He’d lacked any and all prudishly timid behavior at the hotel, which had been part of the appeal.
Perhaps it was just the exhaustion.
“Ronny is right. Oil will feel better on your skin than cotton,” I said, stepped around him, and peeled my own tee off, then started on my pants. “Let’s get you on your front, hmm?”
Chandler wouldn’t meet my eyes nor would he look to get an eyeful of me. Odd. But just like your first orgy, this was a situation that we’d all have to power through.
I loosened his tie all the way, but he brushed my hands away when I was about to get started on his shirt buttons.
“I can do that, thanks,” he said, turned around, and got undressed.
So much odder.
Ronny came back from his bathroom, a little basket with colorful bottles in his hands. “I have rose, lavender, unscented, vanilla, patchouli, and ylang-ylang.”
I frowned. “Couldn’t just pick one scent and stick with that, could you?”
“Some people like having options, according to their moods. Life doesn’t always have to be bland, Hermes.”
“Fine. Options. Baby, you have options, Ronny says.”
