Page 77 of Deathless
Diego stood, legs unsteady beneath him. He winced when his ribs stretched under the bandage, but he kept his eyes on mine. He was still hard, still flushed dark, and desperate for it. He had tear tracks on his face and blood on his throat. He looked at me like none of it mattered.
I took the blade away from his throat and stared at the thin line of red. It would heal cleanly. I'd still have done it.
"I hurt you," I said.
"I know."
"I could have killed you."
"But you didn't." Diego cupped the back of my neck and pulled me closer. "You had complete control the entire time. Do you know how much strength it takes to hold a blade that steady while you're coming? With a sutured shoulder? Most people would have slipped. Would have pressed too hard. You didn't."
He brushed his thumb across my cheekbone. "You're not him. You're not Zeus's weapon. You're not Hephaestus."
I kept looking at the blood on his throat. The words jammed up in my chest.
"What if I go to Kiev and I become him again?"
Diego opened his mouth. Then he closed it. He worked his jaw and the steady front cracked, something rawer underneath. He swallowed hard.
"Then I'll come get you," he said. He broke on it. "However many times it takes. I'll come get you."
He said come get you. He could have said bring you back, but he said come get you, like wherever I ended up, he'd be there too. I grabbed onto the difference because the alternative was falling apart.
I kissed him hard, tasting blood and cum and salt. He kissed me back. For a second he shook against my mouth before he steadied himself. That tremor did more than every brave word he'd said all night.
When I pulled back, we were both breathing hard.
"You still need to come," I said.
"Yeah." He sounded wrecked. "I do."
I set the katana down on the table, then stepped back into him and wrapped my hand around his cock. He was hot and hard,slick with pre-cum. When I stroked him he made a sound that went straight to my spent cock.
"Jasper—" He fisted his hands in my shirt. "Fuck, I'm close."
I stroked him faster and tighter, the way I'd learned he liked it.
Diego jerked forward into my fist. He breathed harshly against my neck.
"Jasper," he said again, different this time, softer. "I love you."
I stopped. Fingers locked around him. Neither of us moved.
"I know the timing's shit." He laughed, rough and wrong, the kind of laugh that lives next door to crying. "I know that. But we're going to Kiev tomorrow and I might not—I just needed—"
He couldn't finish. Diego, who always had the words, who talked his way through everything, who'd held a roomful of fighters steady with nothing but his voice. He couldn't finish.
I started stroking him again, slow. He dropped his forehead against mine.
"Say it again," I said.
"I love you."
I stroked him harder. He gasped and bucked into my fist.
"Again."
"I love you." He choked on the last one. "Jasper, I love you—"
