Beekeeper: In Which They Go to Bed

First: A beginning of a story which obnoxiously cuts off just before the description,
Previous: In Which They Stop Kissing Long Enough to Talk.

Please note: there are two chapters after “in which they stop kissing…” which have been deprecated.  This re-write begins from Amrit and Mieve ending up in bed.

This is a prequel to the commission, more or less: commissioned me to write another chapter of Beekeeper, and in order to do that, I needed to go back and fix the spot where I’d stalled. 


Where I’d stalled Three Years Ago.

This chapter mentions sex and involves two people being naked and intimate but in a mainly fade-to-black way; there is no on-screen sex.


The fading light of the end of day filtered through her bedroom curtains, making it mostly shadow and orange, flickering light as the breeze moved the drapes, like candlelight.  Amrit looked different in light like this, sprawled out on her bed, his breathing a little heavy.  He looked happy, which made Mieve think I put that expression there.

Of course, she was pretty sure she looked both happy and smug, which led to her thinking He made that feeling. He made me feel pleased.

And sated, a helpful voice in the back of her head offered. 

His eyes were closed, but she could tell he wasn’t asleep.  One of his hands was tracing patterns up and down her hip and side, little figure-eights and swirls.  The other was still cupping her ass as she sat on his thighs, her own hands still one on his chest, one on his shoulder. 

She could lie down next to him.  She didn’t think she was ready to do that yet, though.  She wasn’t sure why she felt that way, but emotions and other people, they were tricky things, and they weren’t any less tricky for the difficulty Amrit had given her. 

Or for the soft, lazy smile on his face now. 

His skin was without mark, except the raw edge under the collar where the hawthorn had been.  He healed everything.  A spear through the heart, he’d said. She splayed her hand out over his chest until she could feel his heart beating, the thu-thump still quick, the breathing still heavy. 

“Mmm?” He opened his eyes to peer at her.  “Another round?”

She leaned down to kiss his neck, just below the collar and then just above it.  “I’m not going to argue with that idea,” she agreed.  “It’s been a long time.  And you -”  She didn’t have the right words for this sort of thing.  That’s what Jonas had said, too.  She could say anything she wanted, but it never sounded like it was meant to be a compliment.  At the best, it sounded like she was checking his teeth and his pedigree. 

Or so he’d said. 

More than once, actually, even when she’d thought everything was going well between them. 

She cleared her throat.  She didn’t want Jonas in bed with her right now.  Not in bed with them.  “You were-” attentive. Wild.  Energetic. Great.

He grinned at her, a smile she could almost tell was teasing, not real.  “So you’re saying I left you wordless?”

She snorted.  “Something like that.  It was – nice.”

He made a noise. “Nice,” he mumbled.  “Sounds like a present some old aunt gives you for Christmas.”

“My old aunt would never have thought of giving me something as useful as you,” she countered.  She wanted to despair – did they ever stop arguing? – but on the other hand, this was fun.  “Or as good-looking,” she added, before he could counter. 

“I think you should probably get your eyes checked.  Did the apocalypse eat your glasses?”

She snorted.  “I know what you look like.”  She kissed the other side of his neck.  “I know what you are like.”

He twisted his lips up. “Argumentative and difficult.”

“And surprisingly tender, and – fierce.”  She shrugged a little bit.  They did better when they weren’t talking.  Or maybe she did. She tried kissing him instead, this time on the lips.

Kissing, he seemed to have no problem agreeing with.  He twitched his hands like he was thinking about grabbing her, but they stayed light on her back and ass, even if the circles he was drawing on her spine were more urgent. 

Kissing worked.  She let that kiss lead to another and that one to another and some time later she was looking down at him again in the very faint moonlight, considering his sated, smug expression and trying to neither think nor talk. 

He opened his eyes; she smiled down at him and slowly moved to the bed beside him.  She curled up with her back to him; he spooned her like they’d been doing this for years. 

“Sleep tight,” he murmured in her ear.  She cuddled a little closer to him and made a noise of agreement.  

As long as they didn’t talk, things were beautiful.


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