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Lysander hadn't realized how much he had missed by not sticking with his lovers during Grey's recuperation. He knew that Grey didn't complain much about the pain of his broken arm, but also that Grey hated being still for so many weeks. Grey was petted and waited on instead of flying down a lonely road on the very skimmer bike that had brought him low.
Lysander sympathized, but nothing more could be done to hurry the healing along. He had intended to help all along, but he'd been ... away. Into his own world, doing whatever the hell he wanted with his music. It worked on him like an addiction. His own body became a secondary concern to making the music be good and right. He rode his dragon for weeks on end, like any other kind of junkie he'd ever known. Before, there had never been anyone around who could be hurt by it.
He'd stumbled off to bed one night and heard Grey in pain. It took fifteen full minutes of cajoling and kisses before Grey would allow himself to be medicated. Lysander was leaving Grey's bedroom when he tripped over Jenner lying on the floor nearby. Well, he was an old hand at cleaning up after wild parties, and Jenner was no challenge.
Lysander Edvard was certainly old enough to know all about love. Though he lived in Eab Nanoorn, the single most licentious and open society in the People's Commonwealth Union, he had maintained a solitary life. That circumstance hadn't been by choice. Certainly he was glad to love so strong and handsome a young man as Duke Jenner Garu. Jenner played at fierce independence and casual carelessness, but even in sleep he clung to Lysander as if his life depended on it.
Lysander tried to smooth down the riotous mass ofhoney blond curls, but it just wasn't meant to be. Stone green eyes barely opened when he leaned in to steal a kiss. Even so exhausted, Jenner gave back any kind of affection his lover offered. Lysander lingered over the flavor, prolonging their tender embrace until he was certain Jenner had given in to sleep once more.
He went to his own suite, brushed his teeth, and smiled at himself in the mirror. So forty-mumble had happened to him before love had. So what? His lovers were half his age and appreciated his accomplishments. They gave him whole new reasons to scream at the top of his lungs. Some of it was even to do with music, though Lysander had never before been so ready to chuck his guitar and hang on to the love he had found.
There wasn't so much as a strand of silver in Lysander's auburn hair. He'd never allowed his body to go soft. The only problem was that he sometimes wandered out of this world and expected it to be relatively unchanged when the music got done with him. He forced the smug grin down and reminded himself about the dangers of taking love for granted like this. There was no kind of creation in the real world that could truly wipe away simple neglect.
Lysander went back and asked Grey if he wanted anything. What Grey asked for was a song. Lysander cuddled up to his lover on the bed and gave him a lot more than that. He found all the tense places in Grey's body and eased them. Grey moaned appreciatively under the attention, even going so far as to let Lysander take his shirts off to continue. They worked around all the bone-knitters and hellish jiggers that were going full-tilt 'round the clock, putting Grey's arm right again.
"So did you ever get your dragon to lie down and die?" Grey wondered.
"Oh, no," Lysander chuckled. "It's too old to do such a thing. I'm only doing cover tunes down there. It'll sell well, but it doesn't take much of my attention."
"Well ... but," Grey hesitated. "Jenner said it was probably important. We didn't want to bother you. It's so fucking boring in here, and you've got your work..."
"I have you." Lysander stopped Grey, and took another kiss. "I'll get cranky with my producer. Nobody will be surprised at all, and you can have me to entertain you for as long as you want."
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