Page 17 of Shaman

Alec squeezed his hand so tight it started to cramp. And he reached up under his glasses to dash a few tears away.

“So,” Ian said with a deep breath, and felt fear and panic start to eat away at the edges of his manufactured calm. “That’s it, then.”

The pause before Alec spoke was unbearable. Ian heard a low siren start up in the back of his mind, like the kind they’d sounded in London when the Luftwaffe started bombing.

Please, he prayed to whatever deity was willing to listen to someone like him.Oh please.

Alec watched him, expression unreadable, for an interminable handful of seconds. Then his face crumpled. He opened his arms and said, “Oh, sweetheart, come here.”

Ian went. He fell forward headfirst into Alec’s waiting embrace, tucked his face into his throat, the smooth skin and clean soap smell of him; the warmth of his body bleeding through his clothes; the unexpected strength in his slender arms. Ian’s chest ached, and he struggled to draw a deep breath, and his eyes were wet.

Oh. He was crying.

“Hey,” Alec murmured against the crown of his head, and rubbed his back with both hands, soothing, slow sweeps. “It’s alright. Let it out.” And then, when the sobs overtook him, “I love you. I love you.” Over and over, steady and sure. Like it was a forgone conclusion that wouldn’t change.

Once the tears started, they wouldn’t stop, and Ianhatedit. These weren’t subtle, manly tears, but great ugly sobs, complete with runny nose and sore throat. He pressed his face into Alec’s shirt and tried to get them under control for five solid minutes.

These weren’t just today’s tears, he knew. This was all the ugly, poisonous shit he’d been holding in check for years. For most of his life. And now, at the very, very end of his limits, lonely and tired and overworked, he was in a safe place, and it all had to come out.

Alec held him the whole time, murmuring sweet assurances and endearments, telling him it would be alright – even though that wasn’t possible.

Finally, Ian took a deep, shuddering breath, hiccupped, and knew that he was done. Puffy-faced, stuffy, disgusting, but done. He sat up slowly, wiping at his eyes, ashamed.

“Here.” Alec produced a tissue from the box on the bedside table and Ian took it gratefully.

“Thanks.” It came out sounding like “danks.”

It took three tissues, and he still didn’t want to look at his boyfriend.

“Ian.”

He turned, reluctantly, to find Alec’s smile a little wobbly.

“Thank you for telling me.”

Ian moved around so he could lean back against the headboard beside him.

Alec linked their hands. “Now let’s figure out what we’re going to do.”

Ian huffed a sound that was almost a laugh. “Did you not hear any of what I told you? They’re going to use threats against you to get me to go along with what they want. Not to mention threats against my reputation.” The last was said with a grumble.

Alec nodded. “Yeah. I also heard you say what that bitch and her creep husband did to you.” His jaw flexed, and he looked almost threatening, glasses, bedhead and all. “They’re gonnapayfor that.”

“Darling–”

“No.” Alec twisted so he faced him fully, bringing their linked hands up to his chest. His eyes flashed with aggression. “Youarea badass super villain, and you’re not gonna let someone like that push you around. Not some fucked-up monsters who paid to use sex slaves. Nuh-uh. No way. We’re gonna fight back. And you’re not gonna cut me out anymore.”

Ian made a wordless, frustrated sound. “Darling. A few months ago. When the building was attacked…” His heart leapt up into his throat just remembering it. The gleam of the gun in the sunlight; the jump of Alec’s pulse in the delicate skin beneath his jaw. “Those were idiot bikers, without connections or training. And I almost lost you.”

Alec swallowed with an audible click. “Babe.”

“No, let me say this. This is the reason things have–”

“Sucked?”

“Been strained,” Ian continued. “Yes, they’ve sucked. I’ve – no, no, I want to say this.” He’d almost admitted how much he’d missed him, their banter, and pillow talk, and waking up in the middle of the night to have wine and biscuits and wrap themselves around one another beneath the covers. He missed hislife– the one they’d constructed carefully, piece by piece, together. He’d been successful and powerful before Alec, but after him he’d been alive. He’d been happy.

“I cannot,” he said, trying for calm, “allow anything to happen to you. Notanything. I won’t let you get hurt simply because you’re associated with me. You almost died, Alec. You almost got shot, and–” He was choking on air again, hyperventilating. “Bloody hell, I’m trying toprotectyou!”

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