The Demon Lord And His Hero

The intensity of the silence that surrounded them was deafening. They'd had their fun and now it was time to face the unforeseen consequences of it. Syryn was still seated against the wall, pants unfastened, and a distant look in his eyes.

Rowan placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. "Ryn, tell me, what's on your mind?"

"I'd rather not."

Syryn had wanted this. Having had it, he was unwilling to let go. How did he ever think that it was possible to let go of Rowan after experiencing what they had?

"Please," It was a soft sound that melted all the ice in Syryn's gaze.

"Your clavicle is fractured. Does it not hurt?" He asked instead.

Rowan smiled, "a little. Will you fix me up?"

Why did Rowan look so happy whenever Syryn was checking on his health? "Already am. You'll need a sling for that arm."

"I dont think it's necessary-"

"It is absolutely necessary. You'll get better in a week if you do exactly as I say. I'll also give you some draughts to reduce pain and accelerate the healing."

"Alright, I'll do as say but only if you promise to stay with me while my clavicle heals."

Syryn raised his brows at the anti mage. "We're not doing this, Ro." Living together with Rowan? Even for just the period of a week, It scared the life out of Syryn. He didn't want to get more attached than he already was.

The anti mage between Syryn's thighs stood as impassive as a mountain, not letting the alchemist push him aside. "One week. Is that too much to ask for, Ryn? You've lived with Salem for so many years in the house Artemus gave you. What about me?"

A tiny smile made itself known on Syryn's face. "None of them have had their dicks sucked by me, Rowan. I think that ranks higher than the living arrangements you're getting jealous about."

"And it'll stay that way, won't it?" Rowan asked.

"Maybe," he was teasing.

"Maybe?"

"Fine, I won't blow anyone else," Syryn acceded.

"You won't kiss anyone else either, not Alka, not Artemus, not Magnus, and especially not Salem." All the levity was gone from his tone. Rowan was setting boundaries and he needed Syryn to understand that. He wanted to be exclusive.

The alchemist slowly nodded. "Okay." His kiss list was fluttering out the window on a current of the anti mage's making. Rowan was asking for relationship rights, for his whole and undivided attention, and Syryn allowed it to happen. He was carried on that same current but in another direction.

"No priestess," Syryn said against his will. It was already out so he finished saying what was in his heart, "No Lillith, nobody, nobody but me." What was he saying? He was putting Rowan's life in danger. Selfish. Selfish. Selfish.

"Nobody but Syryn Nigh'hart," Rowan said as he pressed their lips together.

This time, the kiss was heart-achingly slow. Rowan took his time making sweet love to Syryn's lips. And through all of it, Syryn gave himself completely into taking all of Rowan without inhibition. The anti belonged to him.

"Stay with me," Rowan asked him again when he broke the kiss with a sigh. "Come on, Ryn, it's just a week."

Indecision warred in Syryn's eyes.

"It's only me. What are you so afraid of?" Rowan asked.

"Three days, Ro. That's all I can agree to."

"I'll take what I can," Rowan replied. He was slowly but surely inching his way into Syryn's space. There was no more stopping it. Rowan had eclipsed everything else. He was home and would stay till Syryn decided he no longer wanted him.

----

That night, Syryn slept in a separate room to avoid worsening Rowan's injuries. The anti mage fussed and complained but the healer in him was firm in his decision.

When dawn arrived, Rowan dropped Syryn back to his manor so the alchemist could retrieve some items that he needed. A sling was already wrapped around Rowan's arm to immobilise the joint in his shoulder. Against Syryn's instructions, Rowan accompanied him inside the house.

"You're back," Salem looked at Syryn and then at Rowan. The younger boy was wearing a shirt that was too large on him.

"I'm back." Syryn had never felt more like scum than right now. Salem didn't deserve this. He turned around to speak to Rowan who appeared more relaxed than his half-elf counterpart.

"Can I have a moment to speak with Salem?" Syryn asked the blond.

"Why?"

"I've acted without thought. Now, I need to set things right."

Gaze drifting to Salem and then back at Syryn, Rowan nodded. "I'll wait outside."

When Rowan left the kitchen, Syryn turned to Salem. He had no idea where to begin, what to say.

"You dont owe me an explanation, Syryn." It was the half-elf that spoke first. "We were never-"

"I'm still sorry," Syryn blurted out abruptly, cutting Salem off. "It was me that started it. I started this, this thing, whatever it was. And now you're the one getting hurt. I'm so sorry, Salem." For what it was worth, Syryn meant every word he said.

"Does he make you happy?" Salem asked, face drawn into careful neutrality that did not betray the way his heart hurt.

Syryn nodded, eyes downcast and unable to meet Salem's penetrating gaze. It was the guilt that did it.

"Then there's nothing else to be said. We're alright, Syryn." A hand gently squeezed his shoulder. Syryn was overwhelmed by everything that had happened in so little time. He threw himself at Salem in a hug that took the air out of the blond's lungs.

"Syryn, please ease up. I can't breathe."

---

While the alchemists talked, Rowan solemnly faced a white cat with blue eyes.

"I cannot thank you enough for protecting Syryn." He bowed his blond head respectfully towards the cat who deserved worship but was here among mortals, serving a trial that wasn't theirs to bear. Its piercing blue eyes met Rowan's and then looked away.

It was at this moment that Syryn arrived. He stood far away watching Rowan speak to Milky.

"What happened to your boyfriend's arm?" Magnus asked him. They were both watching Rowan. The fire mage didn't mention the oddity of Rowan talking to a cat.

"He's not my boyfriend."

"The shirt and the bruise on your neck say otherwise."

Syryn turned to Magnus, "did you need me for something?" He noticed that the fire mage was dressed for travelling.

"Yeah, I had something to tell you," Magnus replied. He looked uneasy and it was setting off the alarm bells in Syryn's mind. Just when he was about to ask, Magnus dropped the words that hit the alchemist like a boulder.

"Syryn, I'm leaving."

Magnus had disappeared before many times. It came with his profession in the guild. So why was he telling Syryn this?

"You're leaving for good," Syryn said, his heart sinking at the pained smile he was offered.