Page 63 of Forget Me Not

Cal made a startled sound and tried to straighten up, yanking Ray back down to him by his tie in the process. “Yes,” he said, gaze fixed on Ray until they were too close. Then Cal shut his eyes and turned his head, offering his throat whether he knew it or not, but Ray thought he did.

“And you keep me?” Those words took time to say. Ray wasn’t sure he liked them.

He liked the weak sound it drew from Cal, however. “Ray.”

Ray watched sparkles pop over Cal’s lightly freckled cheekbones. “Why don’t more people know that about fairies?”

“They don’t listen?” Cal raised his eyebrows. “We don’t hide anything. Although… Imaybehaven’t explained it to you properly, either. You were… skittish when we met, and I didn’t want to freak you out. Then you understood you were mine, so there was no point.”

“You bring me flowers and orchard fruits? Rare pears and pomegranates?” Ray tried to remember glimpses of fairy celebrations. “Crowns of roses?” Cal’s heartbeat picked up again, but he slowly shook his head. “Why not?”

Cal opened his eyes. “We’ve never really been given a chance to….” He glanced away. “You are—you have to be—very conscious of your image in public, and at the station. It’s complicated. What are a few flowers, in the end? Anyway, this isn’t a forest. I’m a city fairy, and part human, and flowers cost money.” He looked back at Ray when Ray exhaled through his nose. “It’s fine, as you would say. You would wear a crown if I made you one. I know that.”

“It’s not fine,” The force behind the quiet words must have shocked Cal into silence because he didn’t argue. Ray shook his head. “Regardless of anything else that I won’t let you do to me, I would’ve worn some flowers. I would’ve worn yours. I could—Icouldwear yours.”

“Um,” Cal said, then stopped, like his brain had stalled out. “Um,” he said again. “The temptation to put you in a crown of blue-purple morning glories just for those eyes of yours… but those have a lot of meanings, and even the kindest would just be affection, and that isn’t strong enough.” His wings fluttered. “Not nearly. Maybe I can plant some, something blue and climbing. I just threw a bunch of wildflower seeds out there before, I didn’t plan—in public?” He focused on Ray again. “You’d wear that to… to a fairy or a Pride parade or… to the park? Not that we have a lot of time to go to the park.”

They had concerts in the park. Ray had no idea what he’d do at those. Get bored. Go to sleep. Or sit beneath a tree, wearing flowers, while a fairy played with his hair.

Like a Dulac illustration.

Like what Cal must want.

Ray traced the shell of Cal’s ear. “What else haven’t I done that would make you happy?”

Cal went from softly pleased to sharp within seconds. “Raymond, I’m not going to force you to have sex with me in a public place, no matter what some other fairies might say. You’ve let me get away with so much.” He seemed to notice his hold on Ray’s tie and gave it a tug. “Maybe you’re the only cop in Los Cerros who actually cares about the rules. Or maybe it’s that you refuse to allow others to see you like that, because you’ve worked so hard to not be the animal they think you are. I don’t care. It means a lot to you, and I enjoy what we have and what you do allow.”

“You said you make sure they know.” Ray watched Cal swallow, listened to his wings flutter and his pulse speed up. “What does that entail, exactly?”

“Well,” Cal began carefully, clearing his throat, “that you’re happy and they can see that you are. Your colors, I mean. That you’re in love. That I’ve pleased you and made you light up like a summer sparkler. That you shimmer for me even now.”

“The vague answer.” Ray tossed his head. “What’s the real answer, Bittersweet?”

Cal grumbled something at that, then tugged Ray closer. He tipped his face up while keeping his gaze elsewhere. “You let me touch you and tease you and compliment you even when it embarrasses you. As for the rest, for those fairies concerned with such things, you let me get off on you in public sometimes. Special occasions.” He smoothed down Ray’s shirt with his other hand. “So they can see how much I want you and how much you’re willing to give me, and also, perhaps, to make them envious because they want you.” He looked up at last. “You won’t let me get you off. I would! Obviously! Happily! But you don’t want that. Or,” he paused thoughtfully while Ray was lost in the image of Cal grinding against him where other fairies and probably humans could see, “you want it, but not enough to sacrifice everything you’ve worked for.”

“But if I did?” Ray didn’t bother to suppress the growl. “What would you want?”

“I’m not going to force you to do stuff you’re uncomfortable with,” Cal answered huffily. “You’ll do anything to please me. I know that. I’m not going to make you lose what you’ve fought for when I’m more than happy to wind you up until we get home. To be honest, I’ve sort of become hopelessly aroused by the reality, which is you giving me what I need while torturing yourself.” He wriggled closer at the sound of Ray’s second growl. “If you mean the fantasy? Oh, I’d like… to be used by you where they can see. But then I think—that is my private Ray. Not everyone deserves him. So maybe I’d allow some of them, a few, back with us and I would watch you with them. And you would mark them, and make them come, and then,”desirewas thick between them again, jasmine on a hot night. “Then just me. All your attention on me. All the love and care in the way you bite and mark and fuck me. They would witness it and tell others. All those others who teased me for my wings, or who said I wasn’t enough for a were, that I wasn’t enough for you. But they can see that anyway, when I make you burn and your colors burst. The scent between us will do it,” he confided, teasing again now, luring Ray as he must whenever they did what he was describing, “but then I plead, and beg, and moan, and bare my throat to you, and you growl, and you’re sohard,soforcefulthat I start to see their colors at the corner of my eye. All of them wishing they were me, but you don’t give a single fuck about any one of them.”

“Just you.” Satisfaction made the words rough.

Cal shivered. “Just me.”

Ray picked him up and set him on the counter, then stepped between his knees. Cal curled an arm around Ray’s waist and tipped his head to the side, trembling when Ray bent his head to better inhale his scent.

“Exactly like this,” Cal agreed, and pushed Ray’s palm against his waist, as if telling Ray to keep his hands on him. “You have to imagine them watching.” He shoved at his jeans, then sighed for the release of the zipper. “Sometimes you look,” he murmured, teasing or giving Ray permission. “Sometimes you use your other senses, I think, or my back is to you. And your hands are so close, so close.”

Ray looked. “Underwear?” He was surprised, although not entirely disappointed.

The back of Cal’s knuckles pressed against white cotton underwear with dark blue trim as he squeezed his cock. “Jeans can chafe,” he explained. “Healing and then chafing again? No fun. But I do sometimes forget to put the underwear on.”

Ray thought of Cal’s back to him, of holding one of Cal’s hands to a wall, leaving the other at Cal’s waist, then his hip, slipping his fingertips beneath the dark blue and white. Not to touch. To be close, as Cal had said.So close. While Cal pushed back against him and stroked the cute cock now peeking out of his underwear.

The air between them was rich with mingled desires. Ray let his mouth fall open to taste them.

“You don’t really care about the voyeurs, but you care that they can see me, hear me, desperate for you.” Cal panted between the last few words, teasing himself. “And I like that they can see how much you care for me, how strong you are.” He tightened his legs, squeezing to bring Ray even closer. “Holding me tight, picking me up, pinning me against, oh, anything that happens to be there. Delicate little me,” he added, pausing to raise his hand and drag his tongue across his palm. “Helpless and pleading for you. And you can smell how much they want you—”

“I wouldn’t care,” Ray grit out, lips and teeth to Cal’s skin, not biting, his mouth watering with the longing to. “They’re looking at you.”

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