In Which Sparron Doesn't See the Difference

May 22, 1184

"So apparently it's impossible for us to be pleasant to each other without getting naked."

After all these years of knowing that, it was a relief to hear Searle finally say it. "So it seems."

"I had fun today, though--even before the sex. Maybe especially before the sex."

Sparron tapped one log with the poker and watched it tumble off the other, sparks flying. Today had been... nice, he supposed. Nothing too out of the ordinary--just lunch, a walk around the village, the ride back to Searle's place, just catching up on everything that had happened since the last time things went wrong without any unpleasant mention of the last time things went wrong. They might have able to finally be friends, or so Sparron had thought before the sex happened. A stupid thought, but a thought nonetheless. "I did too."

"You seem less tense."

Sparron set the poker down and joined Searle on the couch, the borrowed slacks rustling against Lettie's couch cushion. He wondered if he'd run into her on his way out; he supposed it depended on when she got home from the university. It was something of a pity, to think she'd probably be relieved. "I guess I needed something good to happen."

"I thought you said things had been quiet."

He had said that. It hadn't been entirely true. He'd had another episode two weeks earlier--not the worst he'd had, but it had been long enough since the one before that it had caught him off-guard. Maybe he'd been stupid enough to hope he was done with them. Add that to Renata's fretting over her granddaughter, plus Jeda's continued struggle to keep Ietrin from finding out the truth about their 'son'...

God. When fortune finally did smile upon his family, they wouldn't even know what to do with it. "They've been... kind of the same."

"Oh." Searle knew what that meant. They both talked to Jadin, after all, and their fathers talked, and their stepmothers talked. Everybody talked, and that made things both easier and more difficult. "I wish I could help."

"Today helped, I think." If only for the break. He'd never quite managed it before when he'd been with Searle, but today... well, he'd liked the chance to forget about everything else for a while. "Thank you for that."

"So now when does one of us ruin this by asking what next?" That would come up. "Shit. Guess I just did."

"No." Sparron shook his head. In general, he doubted things could be ruined further. "But I don't know. It's not a good idea to make a habit of this."

"Even if we both needed it?"

Needed. Sparron sighed. Life would have been so much easier if he didn't need things. "Searle..."

"I know, I know." Searle stretched his legs forth. The silk of his hose was tightly woven, but it lightened just enough for the outline of a birthmark to announce itself, at least to those who knew it was there. All these years later and Sparron still knew exactly where to find it. "I just don't see why we can't come up with some arrangement. Camaline manages just fine."

"Camaline is a force of nature."

"Casimiro isn't. He manages."

"Casimiro de Cervantes?" How long had he been here, now? Seven years? Sparron hadn't heard so much of a whisper about anything untoward. "Isidro's cousin?"

"Yes, he... well, he's a father now. But while he's slept with women, he doesn't really like it. And yes, Ellona knows." Did she, now? "And Congren Indruion! He's never even kissed a girl, he's that certain. Both of them have figured out how to cope, though it's a pity that they have to. Can't we at least try to find some way to make this work? If we can't, I swear it, I'll never bother you again."

Of all the made promises that could never be kept. But there had been several years without Searle now, long enough to know that the misery didn't come and leave with him.

What difference could it make in the long run? "I'll think about it."

NEXT CHAPTER: