Rest In Pieces

11

Airo

When Airo approached James later in the afternoon, he was less than impressed.

"Why do I get the sense that I'm in trouble?" James teased, but Airo was having none of it. He crossed his arms, contemplating how to proceed.

The war and the cruelty and the bloodshed told him one thing.

But this was Jamie, his Jamie, and he had to be careful.

"It's come to my understanding that you're not entirely thrilled with my plan."

James hung his head. "Finley is an old friend," he admitted. "I just... needed someone to share my thoughts with."

"And I wasn't enough?" he snapped. James just looked at him. Airo gathered his thoughts in a few short seconds, and tried again. "Well, she's offered to help. Let's go."

James squinted. "Pardon?"

Airo was silent, gesturing for James to follow. He did.

Up in the library, Finley was waiting, perusing over haggard books that likely hadn't been opened in a multitude of years. Xadya was an avid reader. Or, she used to be, Words blurred together, though perhaps she'd have clarity after returning to her heartless self.

"What's going on?" James asked, taking a seat at the circular table. Airo sat, too.

"If the Guard won't have me I might as well be making a difference elsewhere." Finley's words were laced with anger, a biting edge. It made Airo wonder.

"Right. So. Is it a coup we're planning, or what?" James asked.

"Matías certainly won't back down if he's still alive. He'll have to be disposed of." Airo was calm as he spoke, but his hands still shook. He'd killed before, many times. The memories ate him alive.

"I've found nothing, as expected." Finley closed the book she'd been skimming. "I think we'll have to start from scratch."

Airo felt James' eyes on him. Watching. Piercing. Wondering.

"That looks like my cue," Finley coughed awkwardly. "You know where to find me."

They barely noticed her leave.

"What are you staring at?" Airo demanded.

"I've had a thought."

"And what's that?"

"More of a question, really." James was deflecting, and Airo was growing impatient with each passing second. "How well do you think the Arcane will answer to a human?"
Airo had not thought of that.

"Xadya seems to do just fine," he said.

"Xadya's different," James said calmly, laying a hand over Airo's. "I suppose what I'm wondering is... how far are you willing to take this?"

James' brown eyes were soft, but Airo's were ice-cold.

"Whatever it takes," he repeated, only a whisper now.

"You don't have to—"

Airo stood abruptly, shoving his chair backwards with a loud bang. "I cannot answer that question, James." He rarely ever used that name. "I don't—I don't know."

James had uncovered something inside Airo that he was entirely unsettled by.

Airo adored Xadya. But was he willing to become like her? Worse than her, perhaps? He truly had no idea.

"Okay," James said softly. "A conversation for another time, yes?"

"Yes," Airo breathed, nodding. James stood with him, taking Airo's hands in his own. Their lips met in seconds, each grasping to pull the other closer. Airo was strong, and James felt it when he was slammed into a bookshelf, a few items toppling to the floor in the distance.

James' mouth was hard on Airo's neck, and he caved instantly to the pressure. He stood, nearly immobilized when James' hands slid around his waist, up and down.

Airo wanted James to touch every inch of his skin. It felt like flames, and Airo was always cold. He craved the warmth that came with James, and James gave it to him.

Airo's hands were twined in James' dark, messy curls, and James let out a heavy breath.

Fuck, Airo thought, and kissed him again.