Ix held up his hands. “There’s no pleasing you, is there? You don’t like it when I’m nice, you don’t like it when I’m not. Figure yourself out, will you, Marrawshire?”
“Sorry,” said Eric, feeling lost. “Sorry, I just–”
It had felt nice. Like a hug, sideways, with the weight of his arm against Eric’s side. His leg, draped over Ix’s knee. He didn’t know why he couldn’t allow himself to just enjoy it.
Actually, that was incorrect. He knew exactly why he couldn’t let himself enjoy it. Ix didn’t mean it like that, had never meant it like that. He was naturally charismatic, people gravitated towards him whether they liked him or not. They either found him attractive and funny and charming, or scandalous and funny and charming. And that included flirting.
No one would ever seriously consider marrying their daughter off to a half-demon, who knew whether he was even capable of creating children the regular way and even if he were, no one wanted part-demon children forever in their family trees. But all that meant was that he was a prime candidate for safe flirting, because everyone knew nothing serious would ever come of it. Ix fed off that energy and attention and he gave as good as he got.
Eric had seen him flirt with anyone and everyone, from fresh debuts in society through to matronly widowers, men or women, that was just how it was, and then he would pull back if anyone mistook it as meaningful. He’d flirt because it got a reactionout of people, and ‘people’ included Eric. He wasn’t fool enough to think he was exempt from this just because they were old friends.
And that wasn’t even taking into consideration Eric’s position as a newly inherited earldom, son of a traitor.
A shadow fell over his face, blocking the remnants of light. He refused to open his eyes. Everything inside of him was wound so tightly between the funeral, the debt collectors, Petra, Ix’s collapse that he couldn’t even tell what was on the verge of snapping.
“You don’t need–”
“I don’t need to apologize. Yes, I know,” said Eric. “But you know, sometimes I want to. Not because I’ve done something wrong but because I want to smooth things over. So I can stop worrying about it.”
“You don’t ever need to worry about apologizing to me,” said Ix, his voice hovering just over Eric’s head. “Not when it’s me.”
“I’ve spent too long worrying about you to stop it now.” Eric swallowed, his throat feeling like a handful of harpstrings pulled taut. Why had he said that? What was it about Ix’s presence that made him so pathetic? It was like Ix’s sudden weakness was contagious.
“I consider myself a generous friend,” said Ix suddenly. “My reputation is for lavish presents, extravagant occasions, and the like. You know this about me.”
Eric didn’t know where this was going, so he didn’t say anything, just nodded into Ix’s chest. Keeping his eyes closed meant that Eric didn’t have to deal with Ix staring at him, or how weird it was that Ix didn’t have his own familiar cat eyes anymore, but it also meant that he didn’t see Ix move. Suddenly, his chin was in Ix’s grip.
“But I’m seldom lavish with my words. So lest I forget: I know you went to speak with Lymond on my behalf. And I appreciate that. Amongst other things.”
“You know. You know how I feel about you,” said Eric with a leaden heart. He’d never admitted that out loud before. Or even privately in his own mind. It was so much easier to pretend that he had been subtle about it or that he was just matching Ix’s flirting when it happened. He’d skittered close to admitting it, once.
They’d been mock-wrestling after some stupid argument that had all their friends divided and Eric had come out of it rumpled and flushed and pretending it was simply from the exertion of grappling a stronger man, and Petra had sent him the most pitying look over the top of her teacup. But he’d successfully pinned that thought down and skewered it into pieces before it could take root.
Then Eric could delude himself and say that Ix never noticed Eric mooning over him because everyone mooned over him so, rather than the idea that Ix knew and didn’t reciprocate. But that was purely wishful thinking, because someone would have to be blind to not see the way Ix’s mood affected his own so badly.
“And yet, you’ve never made a move before. So tragically noble, saving yourself for a woman as a hold out attempt to please your father.”
Ouch. The mattress moved under them and Eric felt his weight shift. He opened his eyes to see Ix lying on his side, so close that Eric could feel his body warmth radiating off him. He was propped up on one elbow and his free hand rested lightly, oh so casually, on Eric’s hip. “Even when I made it clear I was interested.”
“What?” said Eric, instantly distracted. “No, you haven’t!”
Ix drummed his fingers against Eric’s hip, as if to prove his point.
“That was just – to make me feel better about the debt,” Eric spluttered, completely caught out for once. He half-expected Ix to say this was a prank or laugh at him, but nothing. He swallowed. “You flirt with everyone and you’re free with your affections.”
“It makes you mad,” said Ix, and slid his hand back, so close to cupping the curve of Eric’s ass.
Well. He was not incorrect. Eric veered straight out of self-pity and was madimmediately, in fact. He sat up indignantly. His ass mourned the contact. “What! How is that – Why! Why would you do that!”
Ix rolled over onto his back, regarding Eric out of the corner of his eyes and smirked. Even before he opened his mouth, Eric knew whatever he was going to say was going to make him even more mad. “I find it attractive when you’re hot and flustered.”
Eric jumped off the bed, snatched a pillow and smacked Ix full in the chest with it. He could feel the red rising in his neck, his face, his back. “That’s, that’s,” He couldn’t find any appropriate words, so he stalked away, then back.
“Very attractive,” said Ixthan, peeling back the pillow from his torso and bending one leg up on the bed to reveal — oh.
Anything even resembling a thought in Eric’s mind vanished into thin air. He opened his mouth. Shut it again. Opened it again. Still didn’t have anything to say, so went for another frantic pace around the room. It was as if anything inside his head had completely melted.
“Come here, you idiot,” said Ix, and threw the pillow back at him. Eric obeyed, stumbling back until Ix reached over the side of the bed and hauled him bodily on. Eric sprawled, landing on Ix’s chest with a gasp, Ix’s arms winding around him to prevent him from immediately sliding back off again. Ix’s eyes sparkled with a challenge. “Well? Aren’t you going to kiss me?”
