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A Paler Shade of Green	By : Rina76 Category: Angel the Series > Slash - Male/Male Views: 3532 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Angel fandom or any of the characters from the show. I am not making money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 16
- 17
Part 17. Home
When they get back to the Hyperion Hotel, Kylar is awake and talking, insisting that he’s fine, that he’s suffered far worse abuse in the past and doesn’t want anyone to make a fuss over him because of a simple beating. Even though he looks bloody awful and can barely walk, he’s still too proud to admit how hurt he actually is. Still, Lorne and Connor help him up the stairs, the olive-skinned teen limping all the way and clutching painfully at his side. The first thing Kylar wants to do is take a bath and wash the stink of Pylea away. Sitting in the hot tub of water, he thoroughly shampoos the blood and manure out of his hair and rinses the dirt off his face, carefully cleaning his torn lip and sponging his battered body with weak, aching arms. Kylar does all this himself, refusing to ask for assistance.
Though he would gladly give it if asked, Lorne stays outside the bathroom, almost afraid of what he might see if he goes in there. It’s a wise decision because Kylar’s slender figure is covered in shocking, ugly bruises which are deep purple-black in colour. Lorne gets a glimpse of them anyway when the demon doctor returns to check Kylar over, confirming Lorne’s fears about broken ribs, caused by Kylar’s spiteful siblings kicking him as he lay on the ground. Kylar also has a concussion from where Mordwan hit him with the rock and the doctor gives him painkillers and medication to help him sleep.
When everyone else has left and Kylar is comfortably resting, Lorne lays in bed next to him, holding one of those small hands and silently crying for what has been done to his beautiful boy. Kylar’s face is all bruised and there’s a lot of swelling, his mouth puffy and lower lip ripped, his nose lumpy and misshapen. He has a big bump on his head and a couple of blackened eyes. His injuries look bad but he’s nowhere near death’s door, not like the night he was poisoned by vamp-blood. He just needs sleep and his advanced Pylean healing system will rapidly repair the damage. The bruises will vanish. The swelling will go down. The lump on his head will disappear and soon enough, the nightmare of being sucked back into Pylea will fade away and things can return to normal.
Or so Lorne desperately hopes.
Much later, Kylar stirs and opens his eyes, discovering himself in his own bed. It takes a few seconds for him to realise that he’s not dreaming. The room is warm and dim, only a single beeswax candle lit on the bedside table, giving off the rich, homely scent of honey. Spotting movement in the semi-darkness, he sees Fredelia hanging from the curtain rod, his small grey pet busily munching on an apricot held in her hooked wing-tips. Swivelling her head around 180 degrees, she glances at him with shiny black eyes, giving a happy little chatter that he’s awake. She was worried about him and how long he had been sleeping. Kylar makes a bat-like clicking sound, letting her know that he’s alright. She contentedly goes back to eating her fruit. Turning, Kylar finds Lorne next to him, watching. The older Pylean smiles and places a soft kiss to the teen’s hand.
“Welcome back, my little zucchini flower. Sleep well?”
Kylar nods, a mild wave of dizziness washing over him.
“No, don’t sit up,” Lorne instructs, gently making the kid lie down again. “You’ll hurt your ribs. They’re cracked.”
Belatedly, Kylar realises this, wincing when sharp pain sears down one side of his body. He relaxes back into the mattress, feeling fatigued.
“I seem to make a habit of waking up in bed injured,” he replies in a croaky voice. “I am…what would Connor call it? A trouble-magnet?”
“You’re never any trouble, alfalfa sprout. And don’t you dare go blaming yourself,” Lorne answers, holding a glass of water to Kylar’s mouth so he can drink and soothe his dry throat.
“Thank you,” Kylar replies, licking his lips.
Lorne stuffs another pillow behind Kylar’s head, squinting at him in concern. “Do you need to pee?”
“I do not.”
“Yeah, you’re probably too dehydrated,” Lorne mutters, recalling how Kylar was chained up beneath the ground without any food or water. “Drink some more.”
When Kylar has emptied the glass, Lorne puts it back beside the bed, worriedly gazing at the recovering boy beside him. “So, what happened, sweetie? When you fell out of the portal, I mean. How did you end up back at your old house? Didn’t you try to run into the woods and hide?”
“I did try but I didn’t get very far,” Kylar answers ruefully. “As luck would have it, my older brother and his friends were right there when I came out of the portal. They saw me, recognised me. I attempted to flee but they soon had me surrounded. I fought against them but there were simply too many. They captured me and dragged me home through the dirt, back to my clan for punishment.”
Hearing this, Lorne swallows hard. “This is my fault. I swore I’d protect you and keep you away from that horrible dimension and I failed.”
“It’s not your fault,” the smaller Empath returns kindly, squeezing Lorne’s hand. “I got too close to the portal over the stage in your club and it sucked me in. You did warn me such a thing could happen.”
“When I searched Caritas and couldn’t find you anywhere…I thought I’d lost you forever.” Lorne’s crimson eyes still seem haunted by that split second in time. “I was so scared, Kylar. I was even more afraid than the night you got bitten by the vampire.”
“I wasn’t afraid. I knew you would come. I knew you would save me.”
The older male frowns. “But when I saw you in that cellar…it was like you’d given up hope. You looked right through me, like you couldn’t see me there. You didn’t even acknowledge my voice.”
“I retreated into myself so they could not get to me,” Kylar explains. “They could hurt my body but in my mind I was safe. I sat there and waited for you. And you came.”
Incredibly thankful that he arrived in time to save the kid, Lorne hugs him around the neck and vows in a choked-up voice, “I will always come for you, Kylarkmar. Always. No matter where you are, if you need me I will be there.”
“I know you will.” The younger demon reaches up and touches his guardian’s freckled forehead, trying to smooth out the lines of emotion there. “You are my hero.”
Swallowing back tears, Lorne replies, “I am, huh?”
“Yes. You are.” Kylar smiles fondly. “My champion.”
A slow grin forming on his face, Lorne drawls, “You better tell Angel that because he likes to think he’s the only champion around here, strutting about like a boss and flexing his bulging muscles all the time.”
“A true champion does not need muscles.”
“Great, because I have none of those. Except for in my throat. When I really put those muscles to work, people can’t even stand up anymore…” Lorne stops and coughs in embarrassment, realising how Kylar could interpret that the wrong way. “What I meant was that I can sing ultra-high and loud. It’s sort of my secret weapon. I can knock people down like bowling pins and make glass shatter.”
“Yes, I heard that. It was very impressive.” Thinking of the moment he was rescued from the family basement Kylar adds, “I also heard what you said to my mother afterwards.”
“Oh?” Lorne vaguely remembers calling the old woman a not-very-nice name for a vagina and saying that she wasn’t worthy to be Kylar’s mom.
“I liked it,” the long-haired teenager volunteers. “Especially the part where you said you loved me.”
“I do love you,” Lorne repeats softly, not afraid to say it any longer. “I know I haven’t really told you that, Kylar, but I do. And I don’t just mean in a father-son kind of way, either. I love you so much more than that.”
Smiling, Kylar answers, “I know. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have come back to Pylea for me. I know how much you hate that place.” His smile fades. “I must admit I also have a confession to make, Lorne.”
“What’s that, darlin’?”
“I said the ‘F’ word, when I was captured. I was so angry at my brother that I said it three times. I said ‘shit’ too.” Kylar’s expression turns anxious. “I hope you’re not disappointed in me.”
“Never,” Lorne assures him with a relieved chuckle, kissing the boy’s temple. “You can say anything you want from now on, kiddo. I’m just happy to have you home.”
“I’m happy too,” Kylar whispers, closing his eyes as another wave of dizzying fatigue washes over him. Then, held gently by Lorne’s strong, safe arms, he drifts back into healing sleep.
………
Lorne stays by Kylar’s side for the next five days, reading to the eighteen year old youth when he’s awake, singing to him, bringing him food and brushing his wavy mulberry hair. Even though he’s strong enough to brush his own hair and hold his own book, Kylar allows Lorne to nurse him because he senses that it’s very important for Lorne to do this. For once, Kylar puts aside his Pylean pride and allows someone else to take care of him. Admittedly, it is quite nice being pampered. Even Fredelia warms up to Lorne, the intelligent mammal seeing how attentive, kind and loving the other demon is being to her young owner. Lorne is quite astonished when she clambers up his arm and perches on his shoulder without trying to bite him. Of course, the banana mocktails that he’s been leaving on the bedside table have a lot to do with her attitude change as well. Though it’s degrading mixing non-alcoholic drinks for a damn bat, Lorne is just grateful he’s not getting swooped or squeaked at anymore.
“Aren’t you leaving for work?” Kylar asks Lorne one night, knowing that the club is supposed to be open on Saturday evenings. It’s Karaoke Night. And here Lorne is, still in his bathrobe, sitting on Kylar’s bed with a goblet of wine in his hand like he’s not going anywhere.
“My staff can run the place without me,” Lorne replies with a dismissive wave. “I’m staying right here with you, my little cactus fruit. Want some more Merlot?”
“You have missed a few shows now,” Kylar remarks as his glass is refilled, Lorne insisting that red wine is good for his health and recovery. “I am not a helpless infant. You do not have to sit with me every moment of every day.”
“I know.” Lorne shrugs sheepishly. “I just want to spend time with you.”
“You have been spending all your time with me lately, Lorne. I do appreciate it. Very much. However, I think you need to get out of the hotel. I can tell you miss performing.”
“I don’t miss it – I’ve been singing to you,” the musical male insists. “You want another song? What do you want to hear? Anything at all.”
“There are people out there who need you more than I do right now. Desperate people,” Kylar reminds the other man. “They are waiting for you at your club and rely on your gifts, on your guidance. You can change their lives, Krevlornswath. Tonight, you can be their champion.”
The empathic teenager sets his drink aside and lays his hand on Lorne’s arm persuasively. “Please go to work. For me?”
When those big ruby-red eyes gaze up at him so imploringly, Lorne is helpless to resist or deny anything that Kylar asks of him.
“Oh, you’re right. I’m smothering you, aren’t I?” He sighs. “Okay, Appletini. If it’s what you want, I’ll go to the club.”
“Thank you,” the boy says with a soft smile. “I shall be here when you return.”
“You better be,” Lorne replies warningly as he climbs off the bed. “No going out with Connor, okay? And definitely no training. Your ribs are not healed yet.”
“No going out. No training,” Kylar repeats dutifully. “May I listen to music or watch films in Connor’s room?”
Lorne frowns suspiciously. “Only if he doesn’t kiss you.”
“He won’t,” Kylar promises his jealous custodian. “He prefers to kiss his model boyfriend Sebastian. I sense that they are very much in love.”
“Still can’t believe the runt drives stick,” Lorne says shaking his head. “Well, if he behaves himself then by all means, go hang out with Connor.”
Kylar chews his lip. “You’re not still mad at him?”
“Not anymore, apple-crumble,” Lorne assures. “We had a little chat and cleared things up. Don’t worry; we’ve stopped trying to kill each other.”
“Good.” Kylar smiles. “I’m glad.”
“All righty, I better skedaddle. Those fortunes aren’t gonna read themselves.”
After draining the rest of his wine and a quick peck on the cheek goodbye, the clairvoyant business owner leaves Kylar to get ready for his much-awaited return to Caritas. He hasn’t seen the place since it was cleaned up after the Drokken attack and is keen to check out the new fittings and furniture, making sure his insurance money has been well spent.
………
Swapping his pyjamas for jeans and a T-shirt, Kylar emerges from his room, walking slowly so as not to aggravate his ribs. The fractured bones are still painful and tender but they are repairing themselves day by day. If he was a normal human boy, he’d be out of action for months but his injuries will heal much faster than that. It will just take some rest and a little time, that’s all.
Knowing one way to pass time, he searches for the other person his age in the hotel, finding Connor in the kitchen, mixing up a big glass of flavoured milk. He’s just been training, judging by the sweat patches on his shirt.
“Hello, Connor.”
The blue-eyed teen glances up and then bashfully looks away again.
“Hey,” he mumbles. They haven’t really spoken since the night in Connor’s room, when they got caught kissing. Both of them clearly remember that, making the energy in the air between them somewhat tense and uneasy. It also doesn’t help that the whole hotel knows about it too, thanks to Lorne and Connor yelling at each other, although nobody is daring to talk about the incident.
“Sorry I haven’t visited you,” Connor mutters apologetically, squirting in some more chocolate syrup and mixing it with a spoon. “I’m not real good with…you know…Sick people.”
Kylar nods understandingly, knowing that the other boy feels partially responsible for what happened to him, even though he shouldn’t.
“It’s all right. I was mostly sleeping anyway.”
“You look heaps better.” Connor notes how the ugly bruising on Kylar’s face has faded, leaving him pretty again. “How you feeling?”
“Sore here,” Kylar says, lightly touching the side of his ribcage. “But otherwise okay.”
“Want one?” Connor asks, indicating to his tall glass of frothy chocolately goodness.
“Yes, please. That would be nice.” As Connor blends up another drink for him, Kylar habitually twists one of his dreadlocks in his fingers, observing the other boy’s actions.
“Connor, do you have any new movies we could perhaps watch together? Lorne is working and won’t be back until late.”
“You really want to?” The demon-hunter turns to Kylar with surprise. “Hang out with me?”
“Of course. You are my best friend and I’ve missed you.”
Mumbling shyly as he stirs the spoon, Connor admits, “Me too.”
“Can we go to your room now? Or do you have to hunt?”
“It’s okay. I can take a night off.” Connor shrugs, handing over the glass of chocolate milk. “The others can go out hunting. They don’t need me.”
“That’s right - we can cope perfectly well on our own,” Angel speaks out from across the lobby in his office, having overheard the conversation with his vampire-hearing. “Connor, you take care of Kylar tonight. Go relax. Eat candy or play on your Nintendo or whatever it is that you kids do.”
“Nintendo, Dad? Seriously,” Connor drawls, passing him by. “You are so technologically retarded.”
Rolling his eyes, Connor ignores Angel’s protests about how ‘hip’ and ‘cool’ he is, leading Kylar up the stairs and down the hallway. Once in Connor’s bedroom, Kylar carefully settles into the beanbag that he usually uses, sipping his chocolate drink while Connor freshens up in the bathroom, splashing water on his face, neck and chest, having a quick wash and then towelling off. Kylar always smells sweet, fresh and clean, like roses and berries, and Connor doesn’t want to stink of sweat next to his delicately perfumed friend. Pulling on a clean shirt he comes back and takes a seat next to Kylar on the floor, gazing at the Pylean teen who is missing his golden lip ring. Somebody in Kylar’s clan must have torn it out, before they shackled him in the basement.
“It sucks that your own family chained you up again,” Connor says in an angry mutter. “If I could have been there earlier, I would have killed the whole lot of them before they could even touch you.”
“I know you would have,” Kylar returns gratefully. “But I don’t wish them dead. They are simply products of a violent society and have never known any different. However, I am consoled by the fact that I knocked out my older brother’s front teeth before he and the other village-boys captured me.”
Connor’s eyebrows rise. “No shit? You actually did that?”
“Yes, with my elbow.” Kylar tilts his head musingly, remembering the satisfying crunch of bone on bone. “I rather enjoyed it. It felt good to pay him back for all the times he bullied me in the past.”
“Kickass,” Angel’s son remarks, in clear awe of the second teenager. “Wish I could’ve seen it!”
“I wish so too. You would have been proud of me. Oh, and I have something for you.” Kylar digs in his pocket.
“Yeah? What?”
“A gift. A souvenir.” Proudly, Kylar hands Connor a tooth, complete with roots.
Staring at the ivory object in his palm, Connor’s eyes widen. “Is this...?”
“Yes. I managed to scoop it up off the ground before I was knocked out and taken away. I thought you might like to put it on one of your necklaces.”
Connor looks up at Kylar, the auburn-haired slayer grinning with delight. “Wow. Thanks. Best gift ever!”
As he gets an impulsive but gentle hug from the other boy, Kylar grins too, filled with immense pride at having taken his first battle trophy, even if it was from his own brother and even if his brother isn’t actually dead. With an equal amount of pride, Connor sits the incisor on a shelf with his collection of ear, claw and tooth-trophies, at least until he can drill a hole in it and string it next to the others.
“Hey, Ky? About the other night, before the whole Drokken thing…” Connor begins hesitantly. “I just want to apologise for what I did. With the kissing.”
Kylar blinks in surprise. “You did nothing wrong. You only did what I asked you to.”
“I know but I got kinda carried away. I probably shouldn’t have stuck my hand up your shirt. Or done other…things.” Connor blushes warmly as he recalls pressing his thigh against Kylar’s erection. “Sorry.”
Also remembering, Kylar smiles, slightly flirtatiously. “I did not mind. What you did was nice.”
“Yeah, it was, but we can’t do that ever again.”
“Why not?”
“Because it was TOO nice, that’s why. If I were to kiss you again, I might not be able to stop next time and I have a boyfriend I don’t want to cheat on,” the hot-blooded hunter argues. “Anyways, we both know it wasn’t me you were thinking of that night, Kylar.”
A giveaway flush touches the demon teen’s olive cheeks. “I didn’t realise you were empathic too.”
The other boy snorts. “I’m not. I just know how you feel about Lorne. And I know how he feels about you.”
“We kissed that night,” Kylar confesses. “We were going to mate. But since then, he has not touched me or kissed me again. I have been waiting but he has done nothing. Why do you think that is?”
“Easy. Ever since he brought you back from Pylea, he’s been afraid of touching you because you’ve been hurt and he doesn’t want to hurt you again.”
“He would never do that,” the young Empath insists. “My ribs may be sore but I’m sure there are ways to make love gently.”
“He’s just nervous, Ky. Seeing you taken away from him has made him lose confidence,” Connor surmises. “If you want things to happen between you guys in a romantic way, YOU have to initiate them now.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, make yourself available to him.”
“But I am already available.” Kylar sounds confused. “I am here all the time.”
“Yeah, but make it even more obvious. Make it so Lorne can’t not notice you.”
“How do I do that?”
“You know…just...” Connor gestures helplessly. “Dress up in something you know he’d like. Turn the lights down. Get close to him. Tell him exactly what you want. Once he realises what you’re offering, he won’t refuse you.”
“He will take me to bed?”
“In an instant.” Connor does not need fortune-telling skills to predict how Lorne would respond because beneath the flashy suits, green skin and pointy forehead accessories, Lorne is just a guy and guys rarely ever turn down sex, especially not with someone as gorgeous and seductive as Kylar.
Connor certainly wouldn’t, if he didn’t already have a gorgeous boyfriend of his own.
Pondering these suggestions for a moment, Kylar answers doubtfully, “I don’t know if I can do all that. I do not think I am brave enough.”
“Yes, you are. You were brave when you led away that angry Drokken. You were brave when you smashed your own brother’s teeth out. C’mon, you got sucked into a hell dimension, got chained up and beaten by your family and still you survived and made it back here without losing your mind or letting them break your spirit. If that’s not bravery, then I don’t know what is. You faced your worst fears, Kylar. Surely you can’t be afraid of anything now. Especially not Lorne.”
Put in such a concise way, it’s almost impossible to refute Connor’s logic.
“You are correct, Connor. I have nothing else to fear.” Kylar nods determinedly. “I will do it. When the time is right, I will initiate… things.”
“Great. Do that. But don’t come gushing to me about it afterwards, okay?”
Kylar makes a puzzled face at Connor’s indifferent tone. “You do not wish to know if I succeed? I thought that best friends shared their experiences with each other.”
“Well, yeah. You can tell me stuff. Just not in excessive detail. Look, what you do with Lorne in bed…” Connor winces. “Something I really don’t need to know.”
“Ah, because that’s too much information,” Kylar replies understandingly.
“Now you’re getting it. Hey, let’s watch the movie, okay?” Grabbing a DVD from the shelf, Connor shoves it into the player, keen to get away from the current topic. He cares about Kylar and wants the pretty demon-boy to be happy but thinking about Lorne getting his horn polished by anybody is all kinds of gross.
……
Since he can’t train for a while because of his healing ribs, Kylar whittles away the hours reading (either in his room or out in the sunny hotel courtyard surrounded by friendly garden creatures), learning how to cook in the kitchen with Fred and Cordelia and also surfing the internet. Thanks to his tutoring lessons, he is getting quite confident with using a computer. He even goes shopping online, buying books and other items that he requires, Lorne giving him the use of a credit card and a bank account. Entrusted to manage his own finances, Kylar is extremely responsible with it and doesn’t waste money, only purchasing things he needs so that he doesn’t have to keep asking Lorne for them. Although, he does secretly splurge one day, buying a special outfit and some jewellery for his next date with Lorne.
A few weeks later, when Kylar has fully recovered from his injuries and begun training again, Lorne goes to see if the kid would like to have dinner with him. Not just in his room or at the kitchen table but in a proper demon-friendly restaurant with crisp linen napkins, shining silver cutlery and sparkling crystal glasses. If they’re going to be a couple, he wants to do this the proper way and romance Kylar the way he ought to be romanced. Dine him, wine him, shower him with flowers and chocolates. The whole nine yards. Then when he thinks Kylar is ready he will cover his bed in rose petals, light some scented candles and make slow, sweet love to the boy, taking his time and proving to Kylar how deeply he is cared for. It will be perfect. But he has to build up that moment; it can’t be rushed.
For tonight, dinner will do.
“I would love to,” Kylar immediately answers, delighted at having been asked. “What time?”
“Say about seven-thirty?” Lorne suggests. “That give you enough time to get ready?”
“More than enough.” Knowing about Lorne’s fussiness with his appearance, Kylar teases, “I believe I shall be ready before you anyway. Come and get me when you’re done.”
“Will do,” the older Empath returns, rushing off to shower and dress. After much mind-changing and suit-swapping, he eventually settles on a spotless white jacket and pants combo with a striped aqua shirt underneath and a black satin cravat knotted about his neck. He much prefers cravats over ties. They’re softer and more sensual.
When Lorne is finally ready, hair painstakingly styled and cologne sprayed on, he heads down the hall to Kylar’s door and knocks.
“It’s open,” Kylar calls from inside. Lorne turns the handle and enters the room, closing the door behind him. The lights have been unusually dimmed. A couple of scented candles burn on the bedside table. Kylar is still in the bathroom. When he finally comes out, Lorne almost can’t believe his eyes. If he was carrying a drink in his hand, he would have dropped it onto the floor.
That’s not Kylar. It’s a forest nymph, surrounded by a halo of light. The boy is wearing something resembling a Roman-style dress, consisting of a soft draping of gauzy brown silk over one shoulder, the rest tied around his willowy waist with a sash of the same fabric. The dress is short, its hem finishing just above Kylar’s knees and leaving his long legs on view. The sheer, floaty material shimmers when he moves, showing shades of bronze, copper and gold. It’s the colour of autumn leaves. Golden circlets embossed with a leaf pattern adorn his slender wrists and ankles. He has caught his hair back, making a long loose ponytail and decorating it with tendrils of ivy. With his bare feet and fawn-like horns he looks like that seductive woodland creature Lorne had fantasised about a few moons ago, back when he first smelled Kylar’s berry-coloured hair.
It’s a costume. With everything else going on, Lorne forgot it was Friday the thirteenth tonight.
“Hey, don’t you look…foresty. Going to a fancy dress party with Connor?” Lorne tries not to sound despondent that his dinner date has been forgotten.
“I am not going anywhere.”
“But you’re wearing…” Lorne tilts his head in bewilderment. “Why are you dressed like that, then?”
“Because I knew you would like to see me in something similar to this. I saw it once, in your mind.”
Crap. Kylar HAD glimpsed that naughty little fantasy.
“I bought the outfit on the internet. I dress like this because I want to attract you into mating with me,” Kylar says with typical Pylean bluntness. “My heart is mated with you already, but not my body. Tonight, I offer it to you.”
Although these are words Lorne is thrilled to hear, he’s also afraid of ruining his relationship with Kylar by taking it to a sexual level so soon after the boy’s traumatic experience back on Pylea.
“Are you sure that’s what you want, snow-pea?” Lorne nervously asks, placing his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “Are you sure you’re ready? After everything you’ve been through? We can wait a bit longer, if you like.”
“I am ready. My injuries have healed completely.” Smiling confidently, Kylar adds, “Connor said all I had to do was be brave and make myself available to you and you would instantly take me to bed. He said you would not be able to refuse me.”
“Oh he did, did he?” Lorne exclaims peevishly, glancing away with narrowed eyes. “That scheming little shit.”
“Did he not speak the truth?” Kylar’s lovely face falls in disappointment. “Are you not going to mate with me?”
Lorne sighs, throwing all his starry-eyed plans for flickering candles and expensive vintage wine out the window. “Do you really want our first time to happen now? Right here?”
“Right here. Right now. I don’t want dinner, Lorne. I just want you. I know you want me too. And I believe we have waited long enough.”
The certainty in the boy’s crimson eyes is unwavering and sure, proving his readiness and maturity. He may only be eighteen but he’s not a child; he’s a young adult, and he knows exactly what he wants.
The same thing Lorne does. Whether it’s tonight or ten weeks from now, they are going to become lovers so why postpone the inevitable? Why wait for the perfect time when the perfect time is here already? Besides, a lot can happen in ten weeks, like a zombie apocalypse or a deadly virus that wipes out all life on earth. May as well seize the day and live like it’s the last because if the end of the world is coming, Lorne doesn’t want to die with any regrets.
“You’re right – to hell with waiting. I wholeheartedly accept your offer, Kylarkmar,” he grants.
The brightness of Kylar’s elated smile just about outshines the two Pylean suns.
“By the way, you look fucking fantastic,” Lorne says heatedly, taking Kylar’s face between his palms and claiming the teen’s mouth, covering it with his own in a series of hungry kisses. Kylar’s golden lip-ring is absent (and will be until he gets it re-pierced) but Lorne doesn’t even miss it, only caring about the ripe softness of those plum-coloured lips and the way they open so thirstily to his. Lorne’s kiss turns much more serious, the older Empath plunging his tongue deep inside Kylar’s mouth. Kylar welcomes it, thrusting back with his own tongue, wrapping it around Lorne’s. Lorne tastes like the dirty martini he drank before coming over here, the fiery flavour of gin on his breath, coupled with the sophistication of olive brine.
Needing to be closer to his cocktail-drinking man, Kylar slings his arms about Lorne’s neck, sliding his bare leg around the taller demon’s and pressing their lower bodies together. Kylar’s skirt falls away at the side, revealing pale green flesh from hip to knee, Lorne’s searching fingers following the exposed path of skin. Kylar is not wearing any underwear beneath that outfit and that makes Lorne even more excited, knowing that the kid planned for this to happen and is ready for it.
Suddenly, Lorne scoops him up by the back of the thighs, lifting Kylar off the floor so he’s holding the smaller male against his front, Kylar’s legs automatically crossing around Lorne’s waist. Slipping both his hands beneath Kylar’s firm little bottom, Lorne supports him, still kissing the sweet-tasting teenager as he blindly stumbles across the room, taking them towards the bed. When he reaches it, Lorne turns around and sinks back onto the mattress, bringing Kylar with him, the slim youth ending up in his lap. Under his cupped palm, Lorne can feel Kylar’s heart beating rapidly within the boy’s left buttock, the unique place where the centre of their cardiovascular systems is situated. Lorne is sitting on his own heart but it’s pumping just as strongly as Kylar’s is, the pulse throbbing down his thigh first before spreading out over the rest of his body.
Breaking the kiss, Lorne draws back to gaze at Kylar, cradling the boy’s feminine face in his hands again, nearly unable to believe that such breathtaking exquisiteness belongs to him now.
“My beautiful, beautiful Kylar,” he murmurs lovingly. “I have wanted to make you mine from the first day I saw you, even when you were skinny and dirty and I thought you were a girl. To find out you were really a boy was such a thrilling surprise.”
Kylar blinks at him. “It was?”
“Yeah. I love that you’re such a pretty boy.” Lorne strokes the youth’s darkly dotted cheekbones. “I love your pretty face.”
Wanting to see the teenage beauty in his natural state, Lorne pulls the ivy from Kylar’s ponytail, letting all that glorious purple-red hair tumble free.
“I love your pretty hair.”
Lorne gathers handfuls of those glossy, wavy locks, relishing their heavy softness and allowing the thick violet strands to slide through his fingers like rippled satin. The scent of that hair is like a perfumed drug and Lorne is distracted enough to bury his face in it, to breathe in the heady fragrance of the silky mass before starting to undress Kylar. He slips the bronze toga-dress off one spotted shoulder and down a lean arm, leaving Kylar’s torso uncovered.
“I love your pretty chest.”
It’s not sunken or bony anymore. It has filled out and attractive new muscles have formed now, the teen’s upper body strengthened by all the weapons training he’s been doing. Lorne strokes Kylar’s delicately-patterned collarbones first, his thumb-pads then sweeping across nipples that are darker green than the surrounding flesh, the little nubs pebbling under his caress. Kylar inhales at the pleasurable sparks that Lorne’s actions give him. Shifting forward, Lorne angles his head and takes one of those nipples into his mouth, running his tongue around it. Kylar breathes in even more sharply, the boy’s fingers clenching in Lorne’s styled brown hair.
“I love your pretty skin,” the older demon murmurs against Kylar’s chest. Sliding his hands down the long-haired teenager’s ribs and up his back, Lorne feels all the ridged scars that lie beneath the curtain of mulberry waves, tracing the healed wounds, loving them because they are part of Kylar and every part of him is beautiful.
Forgetting the whip-marks are even there, Kylar can only feel Lorne’s touch, the handsome demon’s fingers caressing his sensitive flesh. He shivers with delight, Lorne trailing down his spine and then back to his hips, thumbs stroking Kylar’s lightly-muscled stomach and making his nerves twitch.
“I love your pretty body. But most of all, I just love YOU, Kylar. Your heart, your soul, your sweetness and kindness. Your joy, your passion. Everything,” Lorne proclaims emphatically. “I don’t care what you used to be, or what you’ve done, or even what you’re going to do later on down the track. I love you for exactly who you are right now and that will never, ever change. I don’t care if you screw up or make mistakes, as long as you let me help you fix them. If you’re hurting or sad, I want to be the one who comforts you and kisses away your tears.”
These are the kinds of poetic declarations Kylar has dreamt of hearing and to hear them now from Lorne’s very lips is almost enough to start Kylar crying.
“I want to be the one who makes you smile, who makes you laugh. I want to be the one who gives you pleasure and makes you feel things you’ve never felt before.”
Watching Kylar’s face, Lorne slips his fingers inside the androgynous boy’s skirt, grazing along a soft inner thigh. He brushes over the teen’s erect maleness, enclosing it in his hand.
“I want to make you so happy, my darling Kylarkmar.”
“You already do,” Kylar answers, moaning as Lorne touches him in a way no-one else ever has. “Oh, that’s wonderful…”
“You like it?”
“Mmmm, yes…”
Lorne has longed to hear Kylar moan and purr like this. It’s so sexy.
Unaware of the sounds he’s making, Kylar’s head rolls back in wanton delight as the root of his demonhood is slowly stroked and caressed. Lorne’s hands are gentle but steady and knowledgeable, obviously having done this in the past to his other lovers. Kylar is not jealous as he knows that he is the one Lorne loves now but realising how experienced the older demon is makes Kylar slightly anxious. He does not have such a lot of experience. What if he can’t please Lorne in the manner to which he is accustomed? What if Kylar isn’t skilled enough? What if he disappoints Lorne?
“Lorne…” He chews his lip uncertainly. “You will have to show me what to do next. I am unsure.”
Pausing, Lorne replies perplexedly, “But I thought you’ve mated before.”
“I was mated with. When Gennsendar - the farmer’s son - visited me at night, he would do things to my body. I did not touch his. I’ve never touched anyone else like that. I don’t know how. I am afraid of doing it wrong.”
“There’s no wrong way to do it,” Lorne reassures him. “Just touch me the way I’ve been touching you.”
To make it easier for the kid, Lorne pulls off his white jacket, unknots his black cravat and opens his shirt. Sliding the aqua-hued garment off Lorne’s freckled shoulders, Kylar tentatively makes hand-to-skin contact with him, feeling the other man’s naked flesh for the first time. It’s warm, smooth and soft, yet firm underneath. Lorne is not heavily muscled like a warrior but he is still masculine and flawless in every way – his chest broad and stomach taut.
Kylar’s reverent touch is like dragonfly wings, so light it almost tickles. He explores Lorne’s chest and flat nipples, sweeping along his guardian’s abdomen and trailing down a stripe of brown belly-fur that disappears into the second man’s pants. Unfastening his own zipper, Lorne encourages Kylar to reach inside.
“You’re so big,” Kylar whispers in awe as he brings Lorne’s stiff male sex into the open.
Lorne chuckles in amusement. “No sweetie, your hands are just small.”
The older Pylean’s endowment is about six and a half inches long, which is the standard size for most human men. Kylar hasn’t seen very many dicks before so of course Lorne’s would seem quite large and imposing to him. It’s awfully flattering, though.
“Like this,” Lorne coaxes, wrapping the kid’s slender fingers around his green length and moving them up and down. “Take your time. Pull it, rub it, squeeze it. You can’t hurt me - just explore how it feels.”
It feels hot and hard and when Kylar squeezes the solid flesh, a droplet of clear fluid trickles out of the cranberry-coloured tip and runs back down the dappled shaft. The fluid is very slippery and Kylar soon discovers that it makes stroking Lorne much easier when his palm is coated in it.
Lorne has been withholding his moans and trying to think of something else. Kylar touching him this way is almost enough to make him lose control like last time, when he prematurely popped his cork before getting to the real action. Not wanting that to happen again, he eventually pulls Kylar’s fingers away, kisses them and then kisses the boy’s chain-scarred wrist.
“Let’s just pause for a moment, lima-bean, okay? Let me catch my breath.”
“Okay,” Kylar replies agreeably, sensing Lorne’s tension. Wanting to help him calm down, Kylar begins raking his fingertips through the short blond-tipped spikes of Lorne’s hair.
“Is that better?”
“Oh, yeah,” Lorne sighs, shutting his eyes.
Leaning forward, the shirtless Empath presses his forehead to Kylar’s, both of them relishing the closeness, sensing each other’s thoughts and desires, the emotions of want and need washing over them in a warm wave from top to toe.
“I feel like I’ve gone to heaven,” Lorne murmurs, butting his horns affectionately against Kylar’s. Kylar butts back, encouraging him, so Lorne slides a bony point right behind one of the other boy’s, scraping the underside from base to end, both of them hissing in a fast breath with the rawness of the sensation. Holding Kylar’s head still with both hands, Lorne moves his face up, kissing the youth’s brow before touching his lips to one tapered horn. It is grooved yet smooth, too short and blunt to use for fighting but there are other, more enjoyable uses for them, as both of the demons know. Sensually, Lorne licks up along that hard protrusion, absorbing Kylar’s shudder, the younger one able to feel the searing wetness, even though layers of dense bone. Knowing exactly what he’s doing to Kylar, how he is affecting the other male, Lorne focuses on the darker skin at the base of the horn, tracing the deep cracks there with the tip of his tongue, probing into them and making his pretty partner gasp.
When a very hot mouth encloses the entire length of his cranial appendage, Kylar gives a long, low moan, arching his body as Lorne slowly pulls back, lips sliding erotically over that essential part of Kylar’s demonic identity, a part that seems to be linked directly to his groin. To Kylar, it feels like Lorne’s mouth is down there instead, the boy’s organ twitching and beginning to leak with excitement.
While the older male sucks sensuously on his horn, Kylar shifts in Lorne’s lap so that the bright red tip of Lorne’s hardness touches his sensitised entrance, the aroused teen rubbing himself against the smoothly rounded knob.
“By the twin suns of Pylea,” Kylar groans, grinding down upon his guardian’s speckled stiffness. “I must have you inside me, Lorne.”
“Wait,” Lorne gasps in warning, lifting an eager Kylar up and off him before he tries to take Lorne’s cock without any lube. “I just have to get something first…I’ll be five seconds.”
Peeking through the door and glancing up and down the hallway to make sure nobody sees him half-undressed, Lorne dashes to his own room while holding his pants up with one hand, fetching a vial from his bedside drawer and rushing back to Kylar. The teenager has now fully divested himself of all clothing except for the gold bracelets and anklets and is lying there naked on his side, hair thrown over his shoulder and lashes lowered sexily and seductively, ready to be loved. Finding such an erotic sight waiting for him takes Lorne’s breath clean away.
“What is that?” Kylar nods to the vial Lorne is holding.
“Oil,” the older man replies, shimmying out of his pants and climbing back onto the bed. “Frangipani scented.”
Lorne uses it to moisturise his horns, to stop them from drying out, keeping the colour a deep red. And okay, sometimes in the past he used it to moisturise other, lower parts of his body because dammit, Kylar wasn’t around then and a horny demon had to do something to get a little relief! As Lorne tips the bottle of fragrant lubricate and pours some into his palm in preparation for what’s to come, he almost can’t believe he’s actually going to make love to Kylar. His Kylar. His delightful, gorgeously incredible little Kylar.
“This will make it more comfortable for you,” Lorne promises, applying the oil to his fingertips and rubbing them together so Kylar can see how slippery the substance is.
“Ah,” Kylar breathes in understanding. “I have only had experience with pig fat in the stables. But this is much nicer than pig fat.”
“And you won’t smell like bacon afterwards,” Lorne jokes, even though inside he’s saddened that Kylar’s only sexual encounters were under such harsh, unsanitary conditions.
Habitually, Kylar rolls over onto his stomach in a pose of total submission - as he used to do for the farmer’s son - but then, remembering what Lorne told him, he flips back around so he can be face to face with his guardian. So they can look at each other. Lying back and resting his head on a pillow, Kylar gazes at the man he loves and shyly spreads his legs.
Lorne brings the oil between Kylar’s thighs, starting to dab it on. Kylar gives a little jolt. Though he has been touched here before, it was a very long time ago and he’s grown unfamiliar with it. Lorne is extremely careful as he applies the perfumed liquid, Kylar soon relaxing under the older demon’s gentle strokes. He is even relaxed enough to allow a fingertip of Lorne’s to slip in, Kylar moaning softly as it pulls out of him with delicious slowness. He had almost forgotten how responsive he was in that area, or how good it felt if it was stroked right.
As he’s preparing Kylar, Lorne talks to him, to distract the boy and stop him from tensing up when two fingers breach his tight opening.
“Back on the farm, when Gennsendar visited you at night, did he ever make you come?”
“Come where?” Kylar naively murmurs, gazing into Lorne’s eyes inquisitively.
“I mean, did he ever bring you to a climax?” With slow pressure, Lorne pushes in deeper, watching Kylar react positively. “When he was having sex with you, did you ever ejaculate semen?”
Kylar’s cheeks darken at the explicit question but he answers honestly. “I was close, a few times. However, no. I never reached climax. He always finished before I could.”
“So, he just used your body and then disappeared?”
“He was not deliberately selfish. As I told you earlier, he gave me food and took care of my wounds. He was simply frightened of his family catching us together so he could not stay too long,” Kylar says in the dead warrior’s defence. “I also think I was the only boy he’d ever been with. Perhaps he wanted to please me but just did not know what to do. Much like me, he was inexperienced.”
“Have you even had an orgasm before?”
Flushing again, Kylar admits, “Yes. I have had wet dreams. Also, when Gennsendar left me alone after mating with me, I would sometimes reach down and rub my…” The younger male breaks off, breath hitching as a third finger stretches him, but in an exciting way. “I…I know what they are supposed to feel like. But I have not done that for a long time.”
“Why not?”
“I was waiting for this moment. When I touched myself back in the stables it was not the farmer’s son I was thinking of,” Kylar confesses breathlessly, his eyes open and with nothing to hide. “It was you, Krevlornswath.”
A swift surge of arousal hits Lorne in the belly. “You wanted me back then? When you were what? Sixteen?”
“I did. Earlier, even.” And the kid doesn’t sound ashamed about it. “I knew you would mate with me one day. And I vowed I would wait for you.”
“That is so hot, baby-cakes,” Lorne just about pants. “You were so young to be thinking such adult things.”
Lorne’s too turned-on to worry about the fifteen-year age difference now or feel guilty about it.
Of a similar viewpoint, the mature teenager closes his eyes, shuddering as Lorne’s tongue swirls around his closest horn. “I never cared that you were older than me. I wanted you regardless.”
“You still want me now?”
Kylar is moaning, nearly unable to think, or even talk. Lorne is sucking on the receptive point of bone while his oiled fingers slide in and out of Kylar’s body, the double stimulation making Kylar squirm and arch up off the bed with restless need.
“Yes,” he whimpers, clenching around Lorne’s fingers. “Oh please, Lorne. I love you. I want you. Please…Now…”
Knowing that the kid is more than ready for him, Lorne lubes up his own shaft with the frangipani oil, positions himself between Kylar’s legs and then carefully starts to push inside that tight little opening.
Gasping, Kylar clutches Lorne’s shoulders, automatically lifting his knees higher so he can be penetrated easier. Lorne’s preparation has worked as Kylar feels no pain whatsoever, only an exhilarating sensation of stretching and fullness. As he’s being entered Kylar faces Lorne directly just as Lorne wanted, his eyes like large rubies, locked onto his older partner’s so he doesn’t miss a thing. The fact that he’s not on his belly makes this encounter nothing like all the others back on the farm. When he was mated with in the past, Kylar had always had his face pressed into the hay so he never saw the pleasure he gave to another man but he can see it now, written all over Lorne like words on the page of a book. Knowing that he is the cause of such indescribable bliss fills Kylar with wonder. His expression starts to mirror Lorne’s when the older male gives one last push and is fully embedded within Kylar’s body, so connected they can feel each other’s heartbeats.
“Oh, sweet honey. You feel so damn good,” Lorne moans ecstatically, nuzzling the boy’s throat and starting to move his hips - withdrawing, thrusting forward and withdrawing again in an increasingly arousing motion, filling Kylar over and over and making their bellies burn with desire.
Whimpering needily, Kylar digs his nails into Lorne’s back, never wanting this close coupling to stop. Having Lorne inside him is even better than he dreamed.
“You like this, baby?” Lorne whispers in Kylar’s ear, driving in a little deeper, making sure Kylar can feel every pulsing inch of him.
“Yes,” Kylar whispers back excitedly, tightening his pelvic muscles and gripping Lorne from the inside. “I love it…”
In an unexpected move, Lorne rolls them both over so that Kylar ends up sitting on top of him. Kylar looks surprised.
“Sex can be done this way too,” Lorne grins, proving it with a series of teasing thrusts. “It can be done a lot of different ways.”
“Oh,” Kylar says in astonishment, only really familiar with pig-style. “I never knew!”
Lorne stops and stays still. “Go on,” he coaxes. “You move. See what feels good to you.”
“What about you?” Kylar asks in return.
“Don’t worry about me, cherry-lips. Everything you do feels good to me.”
Both hands braced on Lorne’s chest, Kylar tries rocking his hips and then lifting up and down on his knees, finding a slow shallow rhythm that suits him and causes the fire in his stomach to blaze hotter. Repeatedly impaling himself upon Lorne’s mighty male weapon is the most pleasurable sensation he’s ever felt in his life.
“Oh Lorne,” he breathes huskily. “This is marvellous…”
As they are both Empaths, they can sense what the other is experiencing, can feel each other’s enjoyment and fulfilment. Lorne’s never had any sex like this before. That’s because this isn’t just sex – it’s lovemaking. They are making love, sharing love, giving love.
The sight of Kylar flexing his slim body on top of Lorne, long wavy hair swaying and bouncing as he moves, his wine-coloured lips parted in sensuality and garnet eyes suffused with an almost-drugged look of sexual gratification…it’s the most stunning and spectacular vision Lorne has ever seen.
“Kylarkmar,” Lorne groans as he is being ridden, incapable of expressing in words how much the boy means to him. “Kylar, Kylar, Kylar…”
The eighteen year old has never heard his name being said like that, as if it is some type of holy prayer to the Powers That Be. But Lorne isn’t worshipping them right now; he’s too busy drowning in ecstasy.
While Kylar lifts himself up and down, he starts trembling and shaking, like his bodily control is slipping. His skin is glimmering with perspiration and his face is heating up. All of his nerves are buzzing and tingling. Something is building inside of him, something supremely powerful and fearsome that he’s not sure he wants to release.
Sensing that Kylar is afraid of the strength of his own physical pleasure, Lorne whispers encouragingly, “Don’t be scared of it, sugar. It’s okay.”
Wildly, Kylar shakes his head, thinking that it’s too much, too intense, that he can’t possibly handle any more of this sensory overload without exploding like a fermenting melon in the summer sun but Lorne keeps whispering to him.
“Come for me, sweetheart. Trust me. Let yourself go…”
When he senses Kylar on the very cusp of climax, his trim thighs straining and quivering with the struggle, Lorne takes control, grinding his hips upwards and giving the boy a few quick, precise thrusts to hit his erogenous inner spot and bring on his release.
“Lorne…Ah, ah, Lorne!” Calling his guardian’s name, Kylar stiffens all over and then gives a convulsive series of shudders, spilling pearly droplets onto his lover’s freckled stomach in rhythmic gushes, his belly tightening over and over with rapture. As Lorne brings him to his first partnered orgasm, tears are streaming freely down Kylar’s face at how overwhelmingly amazing it feels but he keeps his gaze connected with Lorne’s, watching the reaction from the other crimson-eyed male.
“Oh God, Kylar… I’m coming too,” Lorne half-moans, half-sobs. He grips Kylar’s waist tightly with both hands, ramming up hard and fast into that slick heat and jolting the youth’s slender figure. Kylar cries out at the rougher, more frenzied thrusting but he widens his legs for the man underneath him, accepting everything Lorne has to offer, needing to be loved and filled and completed as wholly as possible.
“Take my love, baby,” the older Pylean pants impassionedly as he erupts into the teen on top of him. “Take it, take all of it. It’s all for you…”
Kylar gasps, feeling liquid flames spreading over the inside of his belly as Lorne comes, each surge of released fluid like the hot rush of blood through a beating heart.
Groaning thickly, the thirty-three year old Empath drives in one final time. Buried as deep inside his beautiful boy as he can go, Lorne arches his tall, tautened frame up off the bed to give Kylar every last ounce of his life-essence, filling the violet-haired teenager with so much loving warmth that he’ll never feel cold or alone or unwanted ever again. Even when Lorne’s seed is long gone, this feeling of closeness and completeness will stay with Kylar for the rest of his life.
It will stay with both of them, the two demons now forever bonded in spirit and flesh.
Just as the Powers That Be arranged to happen.

………Epilogue………

When their lovemaking is over, the two demons still remain there on the bed in the same position, Kylar on top of Lorne, both of them panting and staring at each other with awed scarlet eyes, their minds blown by how intense that was. Lorne’s had all kinds of sex with all kinds of creatures but nothing and nobody has ever rocked his world like Kylar just did.
Rotating his pelvis, Lorne gives another couple of slow thrusts, not wanting to separate himself from this warm, wet paradise but knowing he has to, eventually. With great care, Lorne lifts the willowy teenager up and pulls out, Kylar moaning weakly as Lorne’s softening shaft slips from him.
“Did I hurt you, honey-bun?” Lorne inquires in concern, setting the boy back down so he’s on Lorne’s stomach.
Dazedly, Kylar shakes his head. He feels stretched and slightly raw down there from all the friction but not hurt. Exhausted, the younger Pylean collapses forward onto Lorne’s chest, burying his tear-streaked face into the older man’s neck and closing his eyes, Kylar’s racing heartbeat beginning to slow down and his thighs throbbing and aching. He’s tired but oh, he’s never been happier, now that Lorne is truly all his. The best part is that they can do this again, and again, every night for as long as they both live. Which will hopefully be a very long, long time.
Also feeling the same worn-out contentment, Lorne holds Kylar close to his own naked skin, smoothing the kid’s berry-coloured hair and lifting the damp, tangled tresses off Kylar’s sweaty, scar-covered back. They lie there for a while, recuperating and relishing their new intimacy.
The great thing about being empathic is that Lorne doesn’t have to ask Kylar how the sex was for him. Lorne already knows. He can sense the waves of satisfaction coming from Kylar’s resting figure like pulses of light. Though Lorne was regrettably not the one to take the boy’s virginity, he bets the farmer’s son never made Kylar glow so beautifully like this.
Pressing a kiss onto the top of the youth’s head, Lorne affectionately murmurs, “Have I told you how much I adore you, Kylarkmar of the Muthwok Clan?”
“Yes. But you can tell me again.” Lifting long lashes, Kylar glances up and smiles at his handsome champion. “I adore you as well, Krevlornswath of the Deathwok Clan. I have adored you always, since I first saw you, when I was but a boy-child in the fields of Pylea.”
“You’re not a boy-child any longer. You’re a strong young man, a worthy warrior and a valuable member of Angel Investigations,” Lorne says proudly. “We are your family now and this is your home. This is your world. Not Pylea.”
“I agree,” the younger Empath answers. “Pylea never felt like home to me.”
Taking Kylar’s face in his hands, Lorne says gravely, “Promise me, you’ll never, ever go back to that ghastly dimension. Ever. Promise me you won’t go near my club again, or anything that even resembles a portal.”
“I swear it,” Kylar vows, his ruby eyes big and solemn. “My place is here. My heart is here. With you.”
“You got that straight, apple-cake,” Lorne declares, pulling his beautiful demon-teen in for one of what will be many, many kisses over the many, many years to come. They have a lifetime of loving to enjoy and they will do it everywhere and in every way possible, making their own brand of sweet, sweet music echo around the universe.
(And they might even let the Ho’kio twins join them one day…)

The End

A/N: Well, it’s finally over :( Thank you all for reading, for all your reviews and for making it to the very end even though it wasn’t an easy journey! I hope you liked the way it ended and please, drop me a line if you enjoyed my story and fell in love with Lorne and Kylar, just as I did. I’d love to hear from you guys one last time :)

Huge thanks & many hugs,
Rina
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A Paler Shade of Green