Archive of Our Own ^beta

Rook had not stopped shaking since they’d left the Ossuary. Amid the bloodshed of dealing with the cultists, he could disguise it. Blame it on adrenaline, or the aftermath of fighting. But here, alone in his workshop at the de Riva estate, he couldn’t hide behind that excuse any longer.

They’d returned hours ago. Lucanis had stayed behind at the Cantori Diamon to dissect the attack and everything else that had happened. Viago had been less than pleased when Rook excused himself, insisting he needed to check on his brewing poisons, but he’d let him go.

The hope had been that the work would settle his thoughts. Clear his mind. It usually did, but not today. Not when he was so wrecked by everything that had happened in such a short amount of time. He’d nearly wiped a spill of extracted urushiol oil from his desk with his sleeve, only catching himself a split second before his skin made contact. Not long after, he’d staggered from the workshop, pulling the door closed behind him before sagging back against it. Gods, what the fuck.

It was one thing to face down two of the Evanuris running rampant, plus deal with a third that had become stuck in his head. Another to have Varric out of commission in the middle of it all. But nothing, nothing at all, compared to finding out the man he’d laid to rest a year ago, the man whose funeral had left him collapsing into his brother’s arms, had never died at all. That Lucanis had spent the last year imprisoned and tortured beneath the very city they both called home. Rook’s mind couldn’t begin to process the tangle of emotions tearing through him. Relief that Lucanis was alive. Horror at what had been done to him, and at the demon now sharing his body. Guilt for not knowing. For not finding him. Anger at not being told. It all blurred together, too much to bear. His body threatened to fold in on itself under the weight of it.

He’d reappeared before them in a storm of shimmering violet, strange new magic sparking around him as he tore through the Venatori with that same merciless efficiency he’d always had. He looked different now. Like he’d been worn down by time and whatever awful things they did to him. His eyes shadowed with exhaustion that sat somewhere deep in the bones. The warm brown of his irises were still there though, that hadn’t changed. Rook figured he probably looked different too. So much had happened. So much had broken. It had been so long.

Gods. What. The. Fuck.

He straightened suddenly at the sound of footsteps on the marble floor. They didn’t match the familiar rhythm of Viago’s or Teia’s. He hadn’t seen any of the household staff since returning. Silently, he drew the knives at his hips from their sheaths, his stance dipping low even as his body screamed for the support of the door behind him. He waited.

When the figure turned the corner, Rook winced. He used to know Lucanis’s footsteps like the beat of his own heart. Lucanis paused, clearly startled to find Rook poised to strike. But when he took a step closer, Rook let his blades fall. The sharp clatter of metal on stone echoed down the hall.

All Rook could do was stare as the love of his life crossed the floor to him without hesitation, his steps quick and determined. When Lucanis reached him, he wrapped strong arms around him and pulled him in tight. Rook’s hands scrambled, desperate to touch him. His arms, his chest, anything, so long as it was him. He needed to know he was real. Solid. Breathing. Here. Gods, he was here. Damn the impossibility of it all, he was here. Rook’s mind fractured beneath the weight of that truth, and he began to sob.

He clung to Lucanis like even the smallest gap between them might tear him away again. The sounds that left him were wrenching, torn straight from his chest in painful, heaving bursts of something between despair and relief. His chest ached as though it had been split open. His tears soaked against the shoulder of Lucanis’s armor. His face pressed hard against it, and in return, he felt the growing dampness of his own shirt where Lucanis had buried his head. Where Rook sobbed, Lucanis shook silently, but he held him just as fiercely.

When Lucanis shifted slightly, maybe to breathe, maybe to adjust his hold, Rook whimpered. The noise was fragile and high, and he couldn’t bring himself to care how pathetic it sounded. He just held on tighter, arms burning from the strain of clinging to him so desperately. Lucanis ran a hand through his hair, gentle and soothing, whispering soft shushing sounds into the air between them as if he was calming a frightened animal. It took several long minutes to loosen Rook’s grip, and even then, he only relented by an inch.

“I want to kiss you, Rook,” Lucanis whispered, pressing their foreheads together. “Is that okay? I know it’s been… so long.”

Rook surged forward like he never thought this day would come. Gods, until very recently, he hadn’t. He moved like he could erase the space that time had carved between them with a single kiss. Desperation poured into it, violent with longing, an attempt to make up for every moment lost, every night survived alone. He pulled Lucanis closer, closer still, like his soul couldn’t bear the thought of distance.

Lucanis kissed him back just as fiercely. His hands tangled in Rook’s hair, longer now, curling at the ends. He let them trail down his back, across his sides, finding the new edges and changes to the body he had once known so intimately. Still lean, still the build of a poisoner, but hardened now. Worn hard by travel and grief. His hands dropped to Rook’s hips and pulled him in. When there was no more space left, he lifted him, hands sliding to the backs of his thighs, hooking them around his waist, bracing him against the door.

He didn’t want to break away. Not now. Not ever. The salt of Rook’s tears was still on his lips. Lucanis’s heart cracked again at the devastation his absence had left behind. He adjusted his grip slightly, and Rook whimpered again. Quieter this time but more strained. It made Lucanis freeze. He knew that sound. He hadn’t let himself remember it while he was gone, but now, here, with Rook in his arms, it tore through him.

He pulled back just enough to study Rook’s face. Every small change hit like a blow to the chest. The faint crease of a permanent frown, inherited from his brother. A deeper tan, freckles multiplied across his cheeks and nose. Those devastating blue eyes were red-rimmed and glassy, but the tears had begun to slow. His lips, so often usually curled in mischief, were parted now, wet and trembling. Lucanis kissed the bridge of his nose, then his forehead, right where that stubborn de Riva furrow had begun to form. Rook didn’t blink. He just watched, like he still couldn’t quite believe it.

Then he wrapped his arms tight around Lucanis’s neck and dragged him down. With his lips by Lucanis’s ear, his voice barely more than breath, he whispered, “Can we… please. I need…” He swallowed hard, like the words were tangled in his throat. “I need to feel you properly, Lucanis. If that’s okay. I don’t know- everything’s too much. I just want to feel you. And know you’re here, I think?”

Lucanis held him tighter again, pressing Rook hard between his body and the door. His hands roamed slowly down his back, retracing every new line of muscle, the small changes a year had carved into the man he still knew like his own breath. When he reached under Rook and cupped his ass, his grip was possessive and longing. Rook let out a soft, shuddering breath.

Supported completely by Lucanis, Rook let his own hands wander. Where he had gained a little muscle from his long days chasing Solas or following leads, Lucanis had lost some of his. Not drastically, but enough that Rook noticed. Enough to make the memories of that thick, familiar frame ache sharper in his chest. He ran those memories through his head every single day. Even if Lucanis was gone, he hadn’t known how to stop loving him. He didn’t think he could.

Rook began to unbuckle the strap across his chest, where his knife sheath lay. Then he paused, thumb running over the now-empty vials of poison sitting over his heart, the same ones he’d gifted to him before… before everything happened. His throat caught. His hands turned to fists against Lucanis’s chest. And the tears came again.

“Fuck,” Rook whispered, his body trembling in Lucanis’s arms.

Lucanis held him tighter, his chin resting atop Rook’s head. The corner of his eye caught on the sight of the strands of hair that now brushed his neck, longer than they’d ever been before. Another quiet reminder of how much time they’d lost. “Rook,” he said softly, “we don’t need to do this right now. I swear to you, I’m not going anywhere.”

Rook didn’t answer. Not with words. He only pressed his face harder into Lucanis’s chest, his breath hitching against the vials of poison he’d brewed so long ago as fresh tears spilled down his cheeks. He couldn’t stop it. The grief was too big, every edge of it was too sharp. Every breath felt like swallowing glass. He clutched at Lucanis’s shirt beneath the armor, fists knotting in the fabric. He couldn’t tell if he was holding on to keep Lucanis close or to keep himself from shattering completely.

His voice, when it came, cracked open like something fractured. “I thought you were dead.” The words sounded foreign, too small for what they meant. “Every day I woke up and remembered that you were gone. That there was no coming back. I couldn’t breathe with it. I didn’t know how to keep going- I just needed to, so I did.”

Lucanis closed his eyes, one hand running slowly up and down Rook’s forearms, trying to steady the tremble in him.

“And I held onto you,” Rook continued, voice shaking with every word. “Every night. In my head. In dreams. I kept trying to remember exactly how your hands felt. How you spoke. How your mouth moved when you said my name. I thought if I could keep that alive, I wouldn’t lose you all the way.”

Lucanis kissed the top of his head, his hand smoothing through Rook’s hair. “You didn’t lose me.”

“But I did,” Rook snapped, although not from anger, but from the unbearable pressure of feeling too much. “I did. And now you’re here, and you’re warm and breathing, and I don’t know how to exist next to that. I can’t hold it all at once. I keep thinking I’ll blink and-” His voice broke entirely. He couldn’t finish.

Lucanis didn’t make him. He pressed his forehead to Rook’s temple and held him through a silence too thick to name.

Rook’s breath hitched again. His hands rose to Lucanis’s shoulders, gripping tighter. Not from desperation, or at least, not just from desperation, but from need. “I need something real,” he whispered. “I need to feel you. Really feel you. I need to know you’re here with me. Not a memory. Not a dream.”

Lucanis drew back just far enough to look into his eyes, his own gaze raw with everything he wasn’t saying. “Are you sure? Not because you think it’ll fix anything. Just… because you want it?”

Rook’s hands slid into his hair, thumbs trembling where they pressed against Lucanis’s temples. “I’m not trying to forget anything, fuck, I can’t even if I did try. I just… I need to come back into my body. And you’re the only thing that’s ever made it feel like mine.”

Lucanis kissed him then. Not with hunger, but with something aching and slow. He kissed him like he was kissing a wound closed. “Okay,” he murmured against Rook’s lips. “Then let me show you I’m still yours. That I never stopped being yours.”

He shifted Rook higher in his arms, adjusting to the new weight and shape of him. It wasn’t a dramatic change, just enough to remind Lucanis how much time had passed. Even still, the weight felt right. Something his body would remember. Muscle by muscle. Breath by breath.

Rook’s legs tightened around his waist, arms looped around his shoulders, head tucked in close. He made a sound, a small thing caught between a sob and a breath. It was as if grief had hollowed him out, and only this closeness could begin to fill the space again.

So Lucanis didn’t let go. With one hand braced under Rook, the other against the door, he carried them gently into the room. Soft light spilled over them, warm amber from hanging lanterns and the green-filtered daylight through a plant-covered window. The air smelled of herbs and soil, of old books, drying reagents, and flowers. Lucanis breathed it in deeply before shutting the door behind them.

He crossed to the old velvet couch nestled in the corner between two overstuffed bookshelves. The same one Rook always napped on when long nights bled into morning, where he’d wake him with a coffee and a kiss. Lowering himself into it with Rook still in his arms, he felt the other man burrow closer, his forehead pressing to Lucanis’s jaw, breath stuttering in his chest.

Lucanis let his hands roam slowly, deliberately. He tugged at the hem of Rook’s shirt. Rook shifted, helping him pull it over his head, and Lucanis kissed the newly revealed skin, from collarbone to shoulder, to the hollow of his throat. He could feel Rook trembling, fingers fisted around the buckles of his armor.

Leaning into the back of the couch, Lucanis paused to see him. He has scars he hadn’t known, and fading bruises. He also had that same lean build, the same freckled skin. He was still, so undeniably, his Rook. The thought jolted him into motion again. He began unbuckling the various straps and sheaths holding his own weapons and poisons. Rook worked quickly to undo the fastenings of Lucanis’s armor in return. Their progress was urgent but unsteady, both of them trembling as they worked.

One by one, the blades and vials were placed safely aside, joined by a small dagger from Rook’s waistband, one Lucanis had given him many years ago. Finally, they peeled the leather armor free. Rook tugged the shirt beneath over Lucanis’s head, dropping it to the floor. Then he stilled, straddling Lucanis’s lap, his bare chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. His hands trembled against Lucanis’s ribs, thumbs brushing soft skin like he was relearning the terrain of his bones.

Lucanis didn’t rush him. He just held him, arms steady around his waist. Rook leaned forward again, their foreheads meeting. His mouth brushed Lucanis’s in a whisper of contact. They worked the rest of their clothing loose together. Rook never left Lucanis’s lap for more than a breath. Boots thudded softly to the floor. Fabric slid against skin, catching slightly on knees before being pushed away.

Rook’s breath hitched when Lucanis cupped the back of his thigh, thumb rubbing slow arcs as he guided him forward until they were flush against one another chest. The heat between them was a slow-burning kind of need, simmering under time and grief, but no less hot for it.

Lucanis shifted his hips, adjusting Rook’s position to straddle his legs more securely. The couch creaked faintly beneath them. The posture reminded them both of the first time they’d done this, the image still vivid, even now.

Lucanis slid a hand between them, resting it low on Rook’s stomach. He paused to press a kiss to the hollow of his throat, then brought two fingers to his mouth, wetting them before reaching around his hip. His first touches were featherlight and patient. And even so, Rook gasped, fingers tightening suddenly on Lucanis’s shoulders, but he didn’t pull away.

Lucanis worked gently, fingers slow and coaxing as he began to open him. He had a fleeting thought to ask about oil, spit wasn’t really enough, but he already knew the answer. Rook wouldn’t let them part for a moment. Not even for that.

So he didn’t. Instead, he stayed close. Stayed present, attuning to every tremble and twitch, letting Rook’s body guide him. His fingers moved in shallow strokes, careful and unhurried. Rook rocked with the rhythm in quiet, stuttered motion, his spine subtly arching toward each careful push.

“Tell me if you need anything to stop,” Lucanis whispered.

“I won’t,” Rook said, voice trembling. “Just don’t let go.”

“I won’t,” Lucanis echoed back at him, voice low and sure. His thumb swept gently over the ridge of Rook’s lower back.

He took his time. Not just because he needed to, but because this wasn’t just psychical, it wasn’t just sex. This was reclamation. This was rebuilding something that had been stolen from the both of them.

He kissed along Rook’s collarbone, breathing him in. His fingers moved again, still not as slick as he’d like, but steady. Careful as he inched in, easing deeper. Rook’s breath caught. His grip tightened, but, again, he stayed.

Lucanis could feel the tension. Tight not with pain, but with everything unsaid. Grief. Relief. Love. Sorrow. The soul-deep ache Rook had carried every day since the lie of Lucanis’s death.

“You’re doing so well,” Lucanis murmured against his skin. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

Rook exhaled shakily, forehead resting against Lucanis’s temple. “Feels… weird. Not bad,” he added quickly. “Just… a lot. It’s been a while.”

Lucanis nodded, his other hand stroking the back of Rook’s neck, slow and calming. “That’s alright. We’ve got time.”

His fingers curled gently inside him, never too deep, letting Rook adjust to every movement. He watched every reaction, from the tremble in his thighs, the catch in his breath, the broken sounds that slipped free when Lucanis brushed somewhere sensitive. Still tight, but softening. Opening to him, returning to him piece by piece.

Lucanis shifted slightly to ease the angle between them. “Still okay?” he asked softly, eyes lifting to meet Rook’s.

Rook nodded, jaw slack, eyes half-lidded. “Yeah,” he whispered. “You’re- yeah. Just keep…”

Lucanis kissed the corner of his mouth. “I will.”

He added a second finger, slower still. Rook flinched from the sudden surge of sensation and made a quiet, broken noise. It was almost a moan, but far too close to a sob.

Lucanis stilled his movements. “Breathe, love. Just breathe for me.”

Rook tried. Inhale. Then exhale. Again. Gradually, his body began to relax, the sharp edges of tension softening into something yielding. Lucanis couldn’t tell where grief ended and physical strain began, so he let Rook’s body guide him, let it tell him when to move, when to pause, when to wait.

“I forgot,” Rook whispered, voice rough and raw, “how safe you always made this feel.”

“You still are,” Lucanis murmured. “You’re safe.”

Rook rocked against him again, this time without hesitation, and Lucanis felt the tightness around his fingers begin to give. His strokes grew a little deeper, his palm cupping Rook’s ass, holding him close. Their bodies were pressed so tightly there was hardly any space to move, but still Rook leaned in, needing everything. Fingers. Voice. Warmth. Every piece Lucanis could offer, and every piece he would never deny him.

When he finally withdrew his hand, he smoothed a thumb across Rook’s rim one last time. As he did, Rook reached for his own mouth, licking his palm and letting a line of spit fall into it. The sight made Lucanis breathless. Watching Rook like this, looking so heartbreakingly familiar, and just as sinful as he once had.

Rook shifted only as much as necessary and wrapped his slick hand around Lucanis, stroking him slowly. Lucanis groaned, head falling back for a moment before he pulled Rook close again, their chests pressed flush once more. Lucanis’s hand joined his, then took over the motion.

With care, Lucanis guided himself, slicking what little he could with the moisture between them. He looked up. “Tell me.”

Rook’s eyes fluttered open, glassy and bright with want. Steady now. Devastatingly steady. “Please,” he whispered, voice uneven but sure. “I want you.”

Lucanis nodded, positioning himself with slow precision, one hand steady at Rook’s hip. “Lean on me,” he murmured. “Go slow, for both our sakes.”

Rook took a breath, braced himself against Lucanis’s chest, and began to lower himself. It wasn’t painless, not at first. The stretch was sharp, and the lack of oil undeniable. But Lucanis was there, so solid and constant. His hands strong at Rook’s sides, his voice a steady current in his ear.

“You’re doing so well,” he whispered. “That’s it. Let yourself adjust. I’ve got you.”

Rook exhaled, long and trembling, and sank the rest of the way down. Lucanis stilled completely, breath caught at the overwhelming heat of him. So tight and real. He just held Rook. Let the silence settle over them, sacred and soft, until Rook finally relaxed, hips flush against Lucanis’s, their bodies joined at last.

For the first time in over a year, they both felt whole again.

Rook stayed still, breathing through the stretch, their foreheads pressed together. Lucanis could feel every tremble in him. Could feel the stutter of breath, the twitch of thighs adjusting to pressure. There was pain, yes, but also a release, like something uncoiling deep in his chest.

Lucanis didn’t move. Just stroked gentle lines along Rook’s sides, thumbs brushing the curve of his waist in slow motions as he worked to memorize the sight. His own breath came shallow, caught in the knot of emotion tightening in his throat. Gods, he had missed this. Missed him. Rook had said he thought of him every day. Lucanis couldn’t afford to. The pain was too much. The grief, too sharp. The near certainty that he’d never see him again to harrowing to face.

Rook’s eyes opened slowly, clearing Lucanis from the memory as glassy blue locked onto him. “I’m okay,” he murmured, voice threadbare from crying. “You can move.”

Lucanis nodded, but didn’t rush. Instead, he shifted subtly, just enough for the smallest motion, a slow roll of his hips. Rook’s breath caught, then left him in a shaky sigh.

This wasn’t about pleasure. Not yet. It was about proof. Every slow thrust a reminder that they were here. Alive and together.

Rook began to move with him, slowly at first. His hands curled into Lucanis’s shoulders, holding him like if he let go the world might tilt again. His thighs trembled with effort, and Lucanis supported as much of his weight as he could without taking away the choice of rhythm. The pressure between them was intense. A slow, aching drag. Not overwhelming, but deep. The kind of pain that turns sweet when you lean into it, like pressing a bruise.

“You’re still with me?” Lucanis asked softly, watching his face.

Rook nodded, eyes shut, lips parting on a sound that could have been a yes, a prayer, or nothing at all. “I’m- Gods, I’m here,” he whispered. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

Lucanis kissed him with everything he didn’t know how to say. They moved together now, their rhythm slow and sure. Each motion pushed a breath from Rook’s lungs, and each one echoed in Lucanis’s chest. His hands never left him. One at his waist, the other stroking his spine, tracing old scars, learning new ones.

Rook whimpered, soft and desperate. “I thought I’d never feel this again,” he choked. “Not just you. Me. I didn’t think I’d ever be myself again.”

“You are,” Lucanis breathed. “You are, and I’m here. I’ll remind you as many times as you need.”

Rook clenched around him, sharp and sudden, and Lucanis shuddered. The feeling was exquisite. Not just sensation, but the meaning. Every movement was a memory returning to the body. A locked door creaking open in the chest. They rocked together in slow, winding waves. Rook moved like it was the only way to stitch his soul back together, and Lucanis gave him everything of his being, his breath, his strength, his love. He kissed Rook’s jaw, cheek, temple, lips. Held him like he was breakable, even as their rhythm deepened, edged closer to hunger.

“I missed you,” Rook gasped, voice splintering. “I missed you so much I didn’t know how to live properly without you.”

Lucanis’s hands tightened at his waist. “You don’t have to anymore,” he said, voice shaking. “I swear, Rook. I’m not letting you go. Not again.”

Something in that broke Rook. He buried his face in Lucanis’s neck again, his body shaking as the tears came anew. His rhythm faltered, and Lucanis held him to him, like his arms could heal all the hurt that had been done.

“Rook,” he said softly, “do you need to stop?”

Rook shook his head, breath hitching hard in his chest. “No- no. I don’t want to stop. I just-“ His voice cracked. “I’m just feeling everything. All at once. But no. Please don’t stop.”

Lucanis’s hands softened. He tiled Rook’s face up to stroke his cheek, thumb brushing down to his jaw. “Okay,” he whispered. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. Let me take care of you.”

He kissed him again, slow and deep. “Can I move us? You don’t have to do anything. Just let me hold you.”

Rook nodded. “Please.”

With steady hands, Lucanis shifted them gently, wrapping one arm tight around Rook’s back as he lowered them onto the couch. He stayed inside him the whole time, moving with care, never breaking contact. Rook lay beneath him, chest to chest, legs tangled. Lucanis cupped the back of his thigh, lifting it gently around his waist, and Rook followed the motion with his other leg.

“There,” he murmured. “Just breathe. You don’t have to carry it all.”

Rook’s arms wrapped around him, hands in his hair, clutching like he still feared any distance. His chest hitched with soft sobs, but he nodded, finding himself safe in Lucanis’s warmth, the way they pressed together at every point. Lucanis began to move again, slow, deep rolls of his hips that had nothing to do with chasing pleasure and everything to do with showing them both that they were here, and together.

The shift in position let Rook fall into it, surrendering to the motion without needing to push or lead. Lucanis kissed him through it all, brushing his lips over tear-damp cheeks, the arch of his brow, the corner of his mouth, each kiss interjected with calming whispered words. “You’re safe,” he said. “You’re with me. You don’t need to be strong right now. You don’t need to be anything other than you.”

Rook arched into him, a sob catching in his throat. It wasn’t just the stretch. It was being held like this by Lucanis again. Being moved with, not away from. Being loved without condition, without rush, without expectation. Being loved by the person he loved so dearly.

Lucanis rested their foreheads together, breath warm between them, hips moving in that same deliberate, tender rhythm. “I missed you,” he breathed, fingers pushing Rook’s dark hair from his face. “Gods, I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Rook whispered. “I missed everything. And you’re here now, and I’m here, and, fuck, that feels impossible.”

He disentangled his hands from Lucanis’s hair, shaky fingers brushing at his eyes, though the tears kept coming, warm and quiet. His lips trembled, but with less grief this time. Now it was with something softer. Something almost like relief. A wide, watery smile broke across his face. Raw and real, and it threw the door to Lucanis’s heart wide open for this man all over again.

“I must look awful,” Rook murmured, voice thick with tears, breathless from effort. “I haven’t stopped crying since you walked in.”

Lucanis smiled gently, thumb brushing another tear from Rook’s cheek. “You look like someone I love more than anything in the world.”

Rook huffed a weak laugh, half sob, half exhale, then his body began to move again in small, searching rhythms, meeting the beat Lucanis had set. With every motion, every sigh, every shift of skin against skin, it felt like something inside him was sliding back into place. All that softness, hunger, and hope he thought he'd lost were finding their way home again. And then, when the tears had slowed to nearly nothing and his body met the rhythm of the man he loved, Rook surged upward. He wrapped his arms around Lucanis again, pulling him close, their chests flush. He kissed him, trembling with open wanting, not just for the body above him, but for the life they still had. For the future that hadn’t been taken.

Lucanis groaned softly against him, the kiss growing deeper and needier. His hips never lost their rhythm, but the pace shifted to something deeper and much more insistent. Rook moved with him, not just allowing but matching every roll of Lucanis’s body with his own.

It was different now. No longer just reaching for reassurance, but for each other. They moved toward that place where grief and desire blurred into love. The couch creaked quietly beneath them, their bodies sliding together with each motion. One of Lucanis’s forearms braced against the cushions, his fingers tangled in Rook’s hair. The other rested on his hip, holding him with every movement.

Rook moaned softly, breath stuttering. “Lucanis- fuck, I’m close, I’m-” He didn’t finish. He didn’t have to.

“I’ve got you,” Lucanis murmured, voice thick with emotion. “You can let go, Rook.”

He reached between them, wrapping a hand around Rook’s cock, stroking him in time with the slow, powerful rhythm of his hips. It only took a few strokes before Rook’s whole body arched, trembling, clinging tight as he cried out into Lucanis’s neck. He came with a broken sob, his entire body shuddering. Not just the pleasure of his release, but letting go of grief, of loneliness, of everything he’d carried alone. He let it take him. The warmth of Lucanis’s skin, the scratch of his beard, the weight of being held, none of it felt threatening anymore. It was overwhelming in the best way.

Lucanis held him through it, breath caught in his throat as he watched Rook unravel so perfectly. That new frown line deepened, eyes clenched shut, until finally his face eased. Lucanis stroked his cheekbone, grateful to be blessed with this sight once again.

Then, when Rook let his body relax, his limbs limp and his breath unsteady, Lucanis let himself follow. His hips stuttered, his grip tightening just slightly as he spilled deep inside him, the feeling dizzying. He folded forward over Rook, face buried in his neck, breath catching on a sound somewhere between a groan and Rook’s name.

Rook’s hands moved gently down his back, fingers tracing muscle, scar, bone. He kissed the top of Lucanis’s head again and again, whispering quiet nonsense while Lucanis trembled through his release.

They stayed like that a long time. Still joined. Still holding on like the world might rip them apart again if they let go. For the first time in over a year, it felt like peace. Not perfect. Not complete. People were missing. Others were hurting. The Gods had more cruelty in store. But here, in this small poisoner’s workshop, with its bookshelves bowed under too many texts and the scent of deadly flowers in the air, it was something close to peace.

Rook combed his fingers through Lucanis’s hair and whispered, so softly it barely stirred the air. “You came back.”

Lucanis kissed his shoulder. “If I could’ve helped it, I wouldn’t have gone anywhere in the first place.”

For a long moment, they just breathed together. Then Lucanis let his eyes drift around the room and immediately stilled. “Mierda. Did we just have sex in a room full of cardiac poisons.”

“Huh?” Rook squinted his eyes open, “Oh, no, no. They’re not all cardiac.”

Lucanis arched a brow. “Rook. That vial beside your head is aconite.”

Rook blinked, then turned slightly to look. “Oh. Huh. Yeah. Maybe don’t knock that one over.”

Lucanis exhaled against his shoulder, laughing under his breath. “Gods, I think you de Riva brothers are built to test my survival instincts.”

Rook grinned, letting his eyes fall closed again. “You knew Viago before you knew me. And you still went for it. That says more about your risk assessments than my family.”