Chapter 409: Feels Like Summer.

Chapter 409: Chapter 409: Feels Like Summer.

Slowly, Khobi straightens up, sending small waves rippling across the water’s surface.

The water’s not quite deep enough to wade and the floor is hard on his knees, but it hardly matters how he looks because as he traverses the short distance between them, Loac’s eyes never leave his; not even for a moment.

​And Loac doesn’t move an inch as he edges towards him; arms still spread out along the tub, expectant.

The closer he gets, the wider his smirk grows, until they’re nose to nose and chest to chest and Loac’s lips have curled right up to flash him teeth.

​"That’s better," Loac smirks, leaning in to teasingly nudge his wet nose against Khobi’s.

But Khobi keeps moving, edging closer until he’s kneeling between Loac’s splayed thighs with his weight pressing into him; their chests flush beneath the water’s surface, and his arms hanging off the cliffs of Loac’s shoulders to drip all over the floor.

​Then he stops. Waits. Feels the slow rise and fall of Loac’s chest against his and watches as the hypnotic pinpricks of light behind his eyes are consumed by black.

And slowly the ripples disturbing the surface begin to still once more. Just like that, there it is again; a moment of perfect stillness.

​Just the two of them, skin seamless against skin and one shared breath between them; caught together in a single, perfect moment outside of time.

​Khobi’s seen it outside of battle before, but always within a storm.

Always a tempest has raged out beyond this moment –somewhere far and distant, but out there nonetheless, and coming for him the moment he wavers. But this time he can’t hear it.

​This time it’s just...him and Loac.

​It’s oddly tranquil.

​Loac moves first. That’s how it always starts, and Khobi readies himself in the knowing that any moment he’ll come for him hard and fast and the illusion will shatter, their little pocket of time break, and the storm will come crashing down on him with all the wrath of vengeful god.

But that’s not what happens. All he does is tip his chin – just so –and that’s all it takes to set their lips melting together.

​Time doesn’t shatter; it stays slow. Loac kisses him, and Khobi kisses him back. There’s no storm. No wrath.

​Just him and Loac, lips lazily locked; tongues even lazier, and hands roaming like they have nowhere better to be.

A soft, light moan drifts into the space between them on a sigh; Khobi’s lungs struggling for air as Loac just leisurely up and steals it all for himself.

Hungry but in no hurry, he drags a hand up Khobi’s spine as he welcomes a deeper kiss; fingers counting the dips as they go, and despite the heat of the sun, the water, and that suddenly spiking in his veins, Khobi shivers.

It feels only so natural to press in closer, dragging his arms along the thick grooves of Loac’s shoulderblades; one winding up his neck and the other smoothing rivulets of water across the firm, glossy planes of his chest.

These are paths he knows by heart; ridges and valleys he’s left his mark on countless times, but even so he still feels a thrill in the exploration; sparks dancing from Loac’s tongue to his and then down the length of his spine.

​Loac’s breath stutters Khobi’s his fingers descend further, dipping below the surface of the water to dig into every defined groove he can get a grip on.

And while he can already feel Loac’s cock beginning to swell between them, same as his own, instead of wrapping around him, his hand works its way up the length of Loac’s thigh, admiring the taut muscle he finds there.

​It feels like an age before they finally surface for air; Loac’s teeth lightly tugging at Khobi’s lower lip as he pulls away, panting.

Chest heaving, Khobi slowly unfurls the fingers still tangled in the damp locks of Loac’s hair; so soft he can’t help but drag his fingers through it a couple more times.

And then a couple more when his idle hands pry a low, thick rumble out from deep in Loac’s chest.

​From under his eyelashes Khobi catches a glimpse of blue, peering up at him. But he doesn’t look. Not this time.

​(Because as much as he’d convinced himself it was just his imagination...what if it wasn’t?)

But before he can unpack that thought, Loac’s got a hand between them –pushing him away and then back –manhandling him until Khobi’s ass plonks down hard on the floor of the tub with his back pressed flush against Loac’s chest.

With all the jostling, water goes sloshing out over the sides of the bath.

​"Uhh –?" Khobi’s not sure what he was about to say, but whatever it was squeaks to an abrupt halt as one of Loac’s arms casually loops around his midriff and pulls him up against his body.

​Huh?

​"...What was that about making it worth your while?" Khobi mutters, in an effort to disguise his confusion.

First he wants him, now he doesn’t? Loac just urges him in close enough that Khobi has no choice but to relax back against his chest, then presses his lips into his neck.

​"...Consider your debt paid."

​Khobi groans, melting back against Loac’s body despite himself.

That’s not fair. His obvious despondence makes Loac chuckle; a low, thick rumble that Khobi doesn’t so much hear as feels like it’s filling his own chest.

And while it’s not quite the bath he’d been envisioning, the supple shape of a body framing his naked form makes for a nice change from the hard sides of the tub.

​Deciding there are worse fates, Khobi lets himself relax.

He’s honestly a little relieved that Loac didn’t have any vigorous plans for him because as rearing to go as he’d been earlier in the day, after the day they’ve endured he’s exhausted and his body probably isn’t up for going an extra few rounds.

This, however, he could do for hours, just laying here with steam flooding his senses and the water working his tired limbs loose with the steady, even tempo of Loac breathing to rock him to sleep.

​He’s not sure how long they lie there like that, but after a while he becomes dimly aware of Loac’s hands beginning to drift beneath the surface of the water; drawing circles along his pecs, thumbing at a nipple but not teasing the way he usually would.

Normally Loac’s hands on him would get Khobi’s pulse jumping and set the temperature in his blood to boiling, but there’s something idle about this wandering; fingers straying on a non-existent current along the ridges between his sternum and navel, then dipping between his legs to ghost back up the defined contours of his thighs.

Touching, just for the sake of touching.

​It feels like...

​Like...

​...Actually, Khobi’s not all that sure. He’s never had anything like this before.

​Summer .