Chapter 122: Evidence

Chapter 122: Chapter 122: Evidence

By the time Sebastian could properly feel his legs again, he had discovered three things.

First, Nero’s bathtub was large enough to accommodate both of them without requiring negotiations over knees, elbows, or the absurd difference in their height.

Second, hot water was considerably more pleasant than a cold palace window.

Third, Nero was going to die. Not immediately. Sebastian still required him for several constitutional reasons.

But eventually.

The knot had finally gone down enough for them to separate without Sebastian seeing God for a second time, and Nero had carried him into the adjoining bathroom before Sebastian’s muscles could decide whether they intended to cooperate. Now Sebastian sat submerged almost to his chest between Nero’s legs, his back supported against the enigma’s bare torso while steam drifted lazily toward the high ceiling.

Warm water moved around them each time Nero shifted.

Sebastian had been perfectly content for perhaps four minutes.

Then sensation returned to the rest of his body.

Including his neck.

He lifted one hand and touched beneath his jaw.

Tender.

He moved his fingers lower.

Also tender.

Then farther toward his shoulder.

"Why are there so many?"

Behind him, Nero’s chest moved suspiciously.

Sebastian turned his head.

"Are you laughing?"

"No."

"You are."

Nero made absolutely no effort to hide it after that.

The bastard actually laughed, low and warm against Sebastian’s back, while one arm remained wrapped loosely around his waist beneath the water.

Sebastian stared toward the opposite wall.

He could see their reflection faintly in the broad mirror beyond the bath. And, unfortunately, his neck.

It looked terrible.

Dark marks curved beneath his jaw, another sat near the side of his throat, and at least two more disappeared toward his collarbone, where any remotely respectable shirt would fail to cover them completely.

Sebastian slowly raised both hands to his face.

"We have a meeting."

"Yes."

"With Sirius."

"Mhm."

"Zion."

Nero’s laughter returned.

Sebastian lowered his hands.

"My fathers and yours in less than two hours."

Nero kissed the back of his shoulder.

"I remember the schedule."

Sebastian twisted farther in his arms to glare at him.

That was a mistake. His lower back protested first, immediately followed by his thighs.

Then several muscles Sebastian had apparently possessed without previously knowing their names joined the rebellion.

He froze halfway through the movement.

Nero immediately noticed.

His amusement vanished.

"What hurts?"

Sebastian breathed carefully through the sudden pulling ache running from his hips into his thighs.

"My dignity."

"Naturally."

"And approximately everything below my ribs."

Nero’s hand slid over his waist beneath the water, not sexual now, only careful as he helped Sebastian settle back against him.

"I told you the position was demanding."

Sebastian stared straight ahead.

"You did not."

"I considered telling you."

"That is not remotely the same thing."

"I was distracted."

Sebastian reached back to hit him. Or attempted to. His arm made it halfway before the muscles across his shoulder and side protested hard enough to stop him.

He hissed and immediately dropped it.

Nero laughed again.

Sebastian’s expression flattened.

"You have exactly five seconds to reconsider your survival instincts."

Nero caught Sebastian’s wrist gently and brought his hand to his mouth.

"That was a very slow assassination attempt."

"I am temporarily disabled."

"I noticed."

Sebastian tried to pull his hand away.

Nero kissed his knuckles instead.

Sebastian let his head fall back against Nero’s shoulder and stared at the ceiling.

Steam softened the pale stone above them, blurring the recessed lights until they became warm halos.

"Do you understand what Lucas is going to do when he sees my neck?"

Nero considered.

"Notice?"

"Thank you."

"Trevor will notice too."

"I am aware."

"Chris definitely will."

Sebastian closed his eyes.

"Nero."

"And Zion."

Sebastian turned his face just enough to give him a warning look.

Nero’s mouth curved.

"Oh, Zion will be unbearable."

"I am going to drown you."

"You currently cannot lift your arm."

"I can improvise."

Nero leaned down and kissed his temple.

Sebastian hated how easily the gesture softened his irritation.

His eyes returned to the mirror. The marks were still there.

"I cannot attend a constitutional meeting looking like someone tried to eat me."

Nero’s arms tightened around him.

"I have a solution."

Sebastian immediately disliked his tone.

"No."

"You haven’t heard it."

"I know you."

Nero’s mouth brushed his ear.

"I have a perfect collar for that."

Sebastian went completely still. Then he turned his head very slowly.

Nero was grinning. Not merely amused.

Triumphant.

The expression of a man who had spent months negotiating for exactly two restrained collars and had just discovered that poor impulse control had manufactured a practical necessity for one.

"You planned this."

"I did not."

"You absolutely planned this."

"I was occupied."

"You planted half a vineyard on my neck and now conveniently possess the only object capable of covering it."

Nero looked thoughtful.

"Vineyard is more dramatic than garden."

Sebastian reached back again.

This time he managed to connect with Nero’s shoulder.

The slap lacked all meaningful force.

His own arm immediately regretted the effort.

Sebastian hissed and dropped it into the water.

Nero looked down at the spot Sebastian had struck.

Then back at him.

"That was adorable."

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed.

"You should stop talking."

Nero’s smile widened.

Sebastian contemplated whether murder required upper-body strength.

Probably.

Unfortunately.

He shifted carefully in the bath, testing his legs beneath the water. His thighs trembled immediately.

Wonderful.

Nero noticed that too.

"Don’t stand yet."

"I need to eventually."

"You have time."

"Less than two hours."

"I can carry you."

Sebastian looked at him.

"No."

"I already carried you here."

"That was before I regained enough dignity to object."

Nero’s expression softened into something Sebastian knew was about to become far too affectionate.

Sebastian pointed at him with the hand that still worked reasonably well.

"No."

Nero caught the finger and kissed it.

Sebastian stared at him.

This man had been furious with him yesterday.

Now he was naked in a bathtub, smug about bruising Sebastian’s neck and apparently delighted that Sebastian’s body had temporarily given up on violence.

The transition from argument to domestic insanity had been remarkably fast.

Sebastian sighed.

Nero settled his chin against Sebastian’s shoulder.

"You’re smiling."

"I am contemplating your funeral."

"You love me."

Nero had discovered those words and apparently intended to use them in every argument for the rest of their lives.

Sebastian stared at the water.

"I regret telling you."

"No, you don’t."

"I regret how much you enjoy knowing."

Nero’s arms tightened.

"That I will admit."

The honesty stole Sebastian’s response.

For a moment they sat quietly, warm water moving around them while rain from earlier still clung to the bathroom windows in thin silver trails.

Then Sebastian looked toward the mirror again.

"I will wear a band-aid."

"No!"