The Demon Lord and his Hero (BL)

Syryn was back inside Rowan's love nest, a place that was hidden away from everyone else but the teen.

"Would you like some tea?" Rowan offered.

"Yes, please," Syryn answered with a hint of timidity.

The blond gave him a knowing smile that teased Syryn for getting nervous. After everything he'd said and done, the teen was now showing his shy side.

"Is there anything you'd like to eat later?" Rowan asked as he opened the pantry and checked its contents.

"Food?" Syryn dumbly answered.

Rowan's hand paused in its movement. "I'll decide for us then."

The anti mage set a kettle to boil and pulled out two cups, white with gold rims and handles. Delicate, beautiful things that seemed out of place in Rowan's utilitarian kitchen. Despite his height and strength, the blond moved with smooth fluidity. He spooned some tea leaves into the beautiful cups.

"Did you buy those cups yourself?" Syryn asked the anti mage. The feminine touch of the cups made Syryn curious.

"These? They're from my mother," Rowan answered with a glance behind his shoulder.

Rowan's parents weren't from Elysium. Syryn only knew that much.

The anti mage turned around and leaned his back against the countertop while waiting for the kettle to boil. When he crossed his arms, his biceps strained against the fabric of his shirt. Syryn's stomach fluttered as he thought about those arms caging him on the bed.

In the peaceful silence of Rowan's kitchen, Syryn could hear his heart thudding in his chest. He was keenly aware of Rowan's gaze settling over him like a blanket of heat. The teen blushed and abruptly stood up.

"Where's your bathroom?" He asked sounding more steady than he felt.

"Attached to my bedroom. You know where that is, don't you?"

Syryn nodded and left the kitchen in a hurry. Rowan's room was through the right door past the living room. His hand paused on the handle of the door. He was about to enter Rowan's room, the most private space that the blond occupied.

Syryn wasn't sure what he expected but the simplicity of the room wasn't it. It made sense since this place was a temporary haven where the anti mage escaped to for some privacy.

The room was fairly large and doubled as a working space. A work table, a bed, and a bookcase took up most of the open space in the room. A large white wool rug at the foot of his bed added a touch of cosiness to the room.

Syryn toed off his shoes and padded across the clean floor. The bathroom door was at the opposite end of the room.

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When Rowan entered the room with two cups of tea, he could hear the splashing of water from the bathroom.

The anti mage placed the teacups on the table and the clinking sound of ceramic against the polished wood echoed to him. Having nothing else to do, he moved to the bed and sat on the silky smooth white sheet.

Rowan then heard the click of the bathroom door behind him and Syryn exited in a cloud of steam. The citrusy smell of the teen's soap filled the bedroom.

"Rowan, did you get any lubrication?" Now that he was in a calmer headspace, Syryn could say those words without stammering.

The anti mage pulled open a small drawer of his bedside table. Dipping inside, a glass bottle filled to the brim with a transparent and viscous liquid emerged in Rowan's hand.

Syryn folded his arms. "Okay I asked for it but why do you have that?"

"It is unopened and unused," the anti mage assured Syryn. "I got it after what happened between us on that day." He didn't have to elaborate. Syryn understood. "I realised that my will to resist is weaker than your desire to have us lose all sense of decorum and control."

Syryn only had on a bathing robe that was loosely open at his chest. Rowan's gaze travelled to it as the younger man approached the blond.

"You might regret this, Ryn," Rowan said as his hands moved to Syryn's waist. The teen had lowered himself on the anti mage's thighs, legs straddling the blond on the bed.

"Will that stop you?" Syryn looked into Rowan's eyes while his hand slid down to squeeze right where a bulge was growing.

"No."

Syryn twisted his fingers into Rowan's hair tightly, tilting his head back as he licked into the anti mage's mouth. He could feel hands slide up his back, kneading at the fabric of his robe.

Rowan broke their kiss to suck on Syryn's neck even as his hands leisurely slid the bathrobe down the teen's shoulders, revealing creamy warm skin that smelled like citrus and a hint of Syryn. One hand cupped Syryn's bottom and lifted him up so Rowan could manoeuvre the teen onto the bed and under his body.

"Comfortable?" Rowan murmured as he placed a kiss on Syryn's jaw.

"Not comfortable," Syryn said. Comfortable was when Rowan was inside him.

The blond smiled and lifted himself off Syryn to spread open the bathrobe that was in disarray. Presented before him was a feast, beautiful cream skin, seamless and unblemished for his gaze, his touch, a blank canvas for him to mark.

"You know I tried to warn you, Ryn," Rowan breathed out as he ducked down and took one pert rosy nipple, sweet and young, in his mouth. One of his hands moved to grasp Syryn's hardness, and Rowan squeezed, drawing a noise of pleasure from the teen.

"But you didn't listen to me." Rowan used a fingertip to circle the head of Syryn's cock. The intense and focused touch had the teen squirming away but Rowan only pulled him closer. "So when you finally remember everything, know that it's too late to turn back. And even if you can't forgive me, I still won't let go."

Syryn let out a tiny moan and he shivered.

Rowan was driving him insane. His precum was dripping down the anti mage's fingers and making it so wet between their skins.

"Ro- that's future Syryn's problem," he said through breathless exhales. "Fuck me... now, please."

Rowan chuckled. "I'm getting the lube, Ryn."