"Do you want to molest children?" Lars asked. "Are you feeling a need to do things to kids?"
Otlee grimaced and shook his head. "No! Urgh! That's disgusting and wrong and... No. Dammit, no. I don't want to do that to kids!"
Lars shrugged and resumed sipping his tea. "Then you're not a child molester. It's pretty simple, really."
"You don't get it," Otlee snapped. "He did those things to me, therefore I'm messed up and will hurt--"
"That's bullpiss and you know it. That shit held you for a few days, Otlee. Days. Not a lifetime or seasons or long enough to make you think it was normal. Yeah, it was more awful than I can comprehend, but you had a good, decent life before and afterward. I know it's been hard and I know you're a bit twitchy--"
"Twitchy? What the piss is that supposed to mean?"
"That you're twitchy," Lars said. "Jumpy."
Otlee rolled his eyes.
"Anyway, twitchy or not, scared or not, you're still you. And you, Otlee, are not a child molester and I really don't think you're going to become one." When Otlee sighed and looked away, Lars added softly, "You're just fey. You've been fey as long as I've known you. So accept that and stop--"
"I am not fey," Otlee said, gaze snapping back to Lars.
"Oh really?" Lars said, leaning forward. "You're fifteen, almost sixteen. How many girls have you lusted after? Piss, how many girls have you even noticed?"
Otlee grimaced. "That's... Urgh." He swallowed, shaking his head, and said, "Girls? All the boobs and monthlies and... Urgh, that's nasty."
Lars nodded and leaned back. "See, you're fey."
"I am not fey," Otlee gritted.
"You've been fey since you were a little kid. I've seen how you'd look at some of the guys, especially the cuter ones. Shit, Otlee, you were maybe ten, eleven summers when--"
"How many girls have you lusted after?" Otlee interrupted.
Lars smiled. "Just one. And I'm marrying her in a couple of days."
Otlee muttered something Lars couldn't quite hear, then sighed before touching Lars's hand. "You don't have to marry her," Otlee said, grasping Lars's fingertips as he tried to draw his hand away. "You don't. You could just stay here. With me."
"Give me my hand back," Lars said, his voice low.
"I dream about you," Otlee whispered. "Us. Carnal, amazing things that--"
Lars tugged, but Otlee's grip tightened. "Give me back my hand, Otlee. I don't want to hurt you."
"You won't hurt me. I love you, I've always loved you. We could go away, just us--"
Lars brought his free fist down, slamming hard onto Otlee's bony wrist. The younger boy yelped and snatched his hand away. "You didn't have to do that!" Otlee said, rubbing his wrist. "I was just--"
"You were just spouting madness and holding me against my will," Lars snapped. "I asked you twice to let me go." He glared at Otlee and said, "I am not fey. No matter how much you wish I was, I'm not. I love Jess, not you, not that way at least, and I'm going to marry her, raise a family with her, make a home with her."
"Not that..." Otlee said, his eyes widening. "You love me?"
"As a pegging brother," Lars snarled. "As a friend. And if you keep spouting this crap, all that's questionable."
"You love me!" Otlee said, beaming. "You actually said you love me!"
Lars rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath, "Goddess pegging damn. Good job, Hargrove."
"We should leave," Otlee whispered, leaning forward. "We shouldn't... Not here, in the great hall--"
Lars sighed and glared into Otlee's eyes. "I love Jess. Just Jess. And you can bloody well peg off."
Otlee blinked, mouth working, then stammered, "But... But you said--"
"I said you're like my little brother!" Lars snapped. "And even if I was fey, which I'm not, which I never have been, I wouldn't lust after my little brother! That's just wrong, okay? Goddess pegging damn, Otlee, pull your head out of your ass and listen and think."
"Yeah, well, I remember you saying that Dien's girls were like your sisters. What's that make you and Jess, huh?"
How could he explain that he'd loved Jess as far back as he could remember, how he'd always thought of her differently than Kia and Fyn, how Dien had released him of the responsibility of being her brother and allowing - hells, encouraging - him to court her? "It's not the same at all and you know it."
"I know you're not laying with her," Otlee said, eyes narrowing. "You've been courting almost three summers, but you're still not pegging her. Is it because of the incest taboo?" He drew out the ooooo, his lips puckered as if for a kiss.
Lars took a breath to hide his gasp. He thought everyone assumed he and Jess coupled frequently since they'd been courting so long, but they had agreed to wait until marriage. It had been a desperate struggle at times, but, with only a couple of days to go, the promise of her flesh shimmered just ahead. Lars could think of little else some days and the need for her grew stronger, unquenchable, unstoppable. "Mine and Jess's relationship is none of your--"
"Don't try to obfuscate the issue," Otlee said, watching Lars's eyes. "She wants to but you don't. Why's that, Lars? Sure you're not lusting after--"
"I don't want you," Lars said. "I want Jess. I love Jess. Not you, okay?"
"It's been almost three full summers! She's had your pants open lots of times, but short of sneaking your hand up her blouse, you haven't--"
"How can you possibly have any idea what we have and have not..." Lars's eyes narrowed. "You pegging little shit. Have you been spying on us when we're on the roof?"
Otlee paled then his face blushed dark. "No! Of course not, why would you think--"
"How?" Lars asked. "How do you do it? I check the roof and lock the doors every time we're up there. We're alone. It's private. And you have no Goddess damned business watching us."
Otlee stammered and stood. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"You've been using some sort of magical device, haven't you?" Lars asked, voice low and threatening.
"That's crazy talk. No. Of course not. I wouldn't steal--"
"Hey," Jess said, walking up to them. "Glad that's done." She glanced at Otlee then leaned in for a sweet, slow kiss with Lars. "Thanks for waiting," she murmured against his lips.
"Happy to," he replied, allowing his hands to roam beyond her waist. She giggled his name as he caressed her breast and pulled her onto his lap. She smelled divine, making his mouth water, and, despite Otlee's accusations, he thought of the things they'd done on cool rainy evenings. Private things. Things more suited to beds than roofs. Things with saliva and skin and fighting the desperate need to plunge into her. Things that promised their wedding night - now mere days away - would be glorious as would his future with his life, his love, his Jesscea.
Otlee stood there, mouth set tight, as Lars nuzzled her cheek and asked, "How'd it go?"
"I think I did all right. Was the second one finished, so that's good. Wasn't as awful as I thought it'd be."
"Congratulations, then," he said, breathing her in.
She shifted on his lap in a most delightful way, and draped her arms over his neck. "Don't congratulate me yet. Scores won't be posted until late this afternoon."
They kissed, Lars's hands roaming as he remembered their quick, half-naked play before her exam - oh yes, so much more than just my hand up her blouse - then Otlee cleared his throat.
Breathless, Jess looked over her shoulder. "Oh! Otlee. I didn't see you there," she said, brushing Lars's hands to more publicly-acceptable locations. "Is everything all right? A problem at the office?"
"No, no problem," Otlee muttered and turned to go.
"Hey, wait!" Lars called out. When Otlee turned back, he leaned to open his knapsack and said, "I don't think I'm going to make it in to work this afternoon. Can you tell Dubric and give him his mail?" Lars held out the few envelopes.
Otlee grimaced and snatched them from his hand. "Okay. Sure."
"Thanks," Lars said. Jess licking his ear, he watched Otlee stomp away, then growled and reclined Jess in his arms, kissing her and giving her a long, luxurious grope. Goddess, I love you, he thought as she quivered beneath his touch.
"Pastries and mints?" he asked against her lips. "Or would you mind being a bit late for the appointment?"
Jess grinned and ground herself against his lap. "Naughty boy," she said, smirking in a most knowing way. "You just want to finish what we started this morning."
"Well, yeah," he admitted shifting her in his arms and drawing her to her feet. "I can still smell it on your skin." He lowered his voice and waggled his eyebrows at her. "It's making me randy. Wanna see?"
"Randy? Again? That sounds promising." Jess pressed close against him and gave him a friendly rub. "By the way, all you had to do was wash your face. I, on the other hand--"
He grabbed his knapsack and drew her toward the main stairs. "Oh, I have plans for your other hand."
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