Fate - 14
Epilogue - 2
He arrives empty-handed, wearing a nervous smile. The conversation is awkward, too many words about nothing which none of them will remember. It's Florian that finally rescues them when he rises from his chair and offers Solomon his hand.
"Let's not waste words when there are more interesting ways to pass the time." Florian takes Solomon's hand and presses it flat against his chest, letting the older man feel his heartbeat and the heat of his body through the thin clothing. He's wearing a simple Moroccan robe, as is Ray. Solomon is in his usual Parisian garb and looks overdressed and uncomfortable compared to his companions.
"I…" Solomon chokes, then clears his throat before trying again. "I'm asking only for what you chose to give. You understand that?" He holds Florian's eyes with his own, demanding honesty. Florian's gaze doesn't waver and after a moment he sees and feels Solomon relax. They both look at Ray who's remained silent since Solomon arrived.
"Ray." Florian holds his hand out to his lover, beckoning for him to join them.
"No promises, no obligations. Agreed?" Ray is looking at Solomon but he's speaking to both of them. They nod even as Florian reaches out and takes Ray's hand, bringing it to his chest where Solomon's hand still rests. He places Ray's hand over Solomon's and smiles.
"I place myself in your hands. Please be gentle with me." Florian blushes as he says this, but his gaze remains steady and his smile doesn't falter.
"You honor me," Solomon replies, looking only at Florian as he stands. He lifts his unoccupied hand and caresses Florian's face before leaning in and kissing him sweetly. Florian returns it as Ray withdraws, moving back a few steps to let the men decide how they want the evening to progress.
Florian returns Solomon's kiss with a demanding one of his own. Having released Solomon's hand at last he wraps both arms around the older man and pulls him close. They are pressed, body to body, their hands and mouths exploring.
Ray watches, pushing down the urge to grab Solomon and shove him out of the room before claiming Florian for his own. It burns deep in his chest to see Florian willingly kissing and touching someone else. It never hurt this much when Azura was hurting Florian. Why is this so different?
Florian makes that funny little sound in the back of his throat, the one Ray loves to draw out of him. That almost ends everything, but Ray clenches his fists hard and turns away.
"Ray." Florian's hands caress his shoulders, urging him to turn and face what Ray does not want to see - Florian's glistening, reddened lips. Ray reminds himself once more that he's doing this for his lover. It gives him the strength needs to turn.
"Help me?" Florian asks prettily, holding his arms out to the side, waiting for Ray to undress him. Solomon waits patiently, a few steps back, watching with a smile.
The robe slides off easily and, like Ray, Florian wears nothing beneath it. His body still bears the fading evidence of Azura's abuse and there is a red, raw circle around his wrist where the slave bracelet had been. Ray had borrowed one of the men from the ship's
engine room and some tools to get the bracelet removed, but he'd kept it, much to Florian's annoyance.
With a lingering touch, Florian turns back to Solomon and starts to undress him. Ray watches a long minute, indecisive, before finally shedding his own robe.
They press together, the three of them, whether out of need or some lingering awkwardness, none of them can say. But the heat and need and desire they share drowns out all other concerns. There is no right or wrong here, not when they've come so close to Hell and managed to escape, if not unscathed, then at least grateful to be alive.
If that gratitude translates into flesh sliding against and finally pressing into flesh then who has the right to judge? Who but these three could know the deeper meaning of soft cries and louder moans, of pleading eyes and salty tears?
It is a celebration, messy and joyous, and they prolong it well past dawn, though their cabin is closed off from the sun.
It is with a tender kiss and a hint of regret that Solomon slides away from his sleeping lovers and searches for his clothes. He dresses in silence, resolved to take only good memories when he leaves this room. Still, he permits himself one last lingering look at the pair tangled in the bedding and each other. He is both thankful and not that Ray's
eyes are open, watching him, while Florian's remain closed in sleep.
"You don't have to leave," Ray tells him, but there's conflicting sentiment in those eyes and Solomon sees it. He knows his black cat so well.
"It's better if I'm not here when Florian wakes. He owes me nothing."
"We owe you our thanks for what you've done for both of us. Neither of us will forget that."
"Then let me go out of kindness, before I lose my resolve. Despite last night, there's no room in your bed for a third person, Ray."
Ray and Solomon study each other, reading and understanding the many things unsaid. Finally Ray nods and Solomon smiles.
"Don't think this means I'm done with you. Someday I'll prove that you're the masked thief, Noir."
"I knew it wouldn't be that easy to get rid of you." Ray waves Solomon away, watching as he walks across the room to the door. It is only as he turns the doorknob that Ray calls to him.
"Brunch at eleven in the dining room. Florian will save you a seat. There's a banker named Foxworth traveling alone and Florian thinks you'd make a good match."
Solomon groans and shakes his head. He glances back at the blond and sighs. This will not be good. He waves his hand in surrender, ignoring Ray's smirk. "I'll be there," he concedes as he walks out, closing the door behind him.
::end