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“Casseth—”

Lithian shuddered, losing his words under the press of Cas’ mouth and whining into the kiss as Cas’ fingers looped around his wrists like shackles and pinned them above his head — against the back, outside wall of his house.

Location, Lithian decided with the distracted mentality of a man with more immediate things preoccupying his mind, and the innate vulnerability of public places, was something he needed to give Casseth another lengthy speech on. Later. For the moment, Eowyn — even in the late afternoon — felt like a slow burn under his tunic, and with Casseth pressed against him, holding him down and making his body heat further—

Both of them had far too many clothes on.

“Cas—” Lith’s fingers bunched at Cas’ hips, dragging him in tight, grinding, and panting in frustration. “We should—here isn’t…nnnh—maybe if we—” After very little actually said, however, Lithian gave up again, letting his eyes fall back shut and conceding to let Casseth lead the moment.

Lithian froze. Pulse somersaulting into his throat, he yanked his hands — which had taken up comfortable residence on Casseth’s posterior — backwards so fast, his elbows slammed into the wall behind him hard enough to make him wince and bite back a yelp. Identifying Kilian did little to calm more than the upper crust of panic, and in its place, heat flooded his face, neck, and ears.

“I—I—I…ah…that…” Biting his lip, Lithian cringed and reached around to rub at his smarting elbows, knees bending a fraction and shoulders sinking and pinching in as though in a vain attempt to make himself smaller — or disappear altogether. “Yes, sir. That is…no, sir. What I mean is…” Lithian dipped his eyes to the ground, laying his hands back against the wall — pointedly not touching Casseth — and then frowning as he spotted his clothes. Flushing, if possible, darker still, he stooped, gathering them clumsily to distract his shaking fingers as much as anything else. With them in his arms, he stood. “Casseth made it…very difficult, sir. Not that—not that it was his fault! I—I’m sure it was entirely my fault, in point of fact and you shouldn’t—that is, please don’t…if you’re going to…I can leave—”

After making quick work of slipping back into his clothes and fastening his belts, Lithian shifted his weight, glancing to Casseth, then Kilian, and back again.

“Your father suspected my…feelings for you quite some time ago. Well over a year now…close to two? I promised him at the time that I wouldn’t—that I had no intentions of ruining our friendship or making you uncomfortable, and that I wouldn’t touch you…” When his gaze flit back to Kilian, he reached up, abashed as he thumbed over the tip of one of his horns. “In answer to your question, sir, we’ve…well…it’s been a matter of several months now? We, er…during our time on Aisko, it…mm…we…” After several failed attempts at vague hand gestures as he tried to make his point, words failing him, Lithian’s face burned all the brighter. “The precise nature of our relationship changed on Aisko…dramatically, in some areas. Less so in others.”

At the word ‘mates’, Lithian’s eyebrows shot up in spite of himself. While they had slept together — many times now, he thought, face still brilliantly warm — the term ‘mate’, at least amongst the dovaa, involved a process of courting, a question and an answer from both parties, build-up, and then a ceremony involving the blessings of family on both sides of the coupling. It was an extensive process, steeped in culture, and while he had to admit, his current relationship was unorthodox in a number of ways, it still felt abrupt, even jarring, to an extent, to have the term pinned on him without precedent.

At Kilian’s knowing response, though, and the look he gave both of them, Lithian had to assume Casseth simply did not associate any of the same cultural values with the term, and was applying it from a foreign perspective — which, Lithian supposed, was entirely understandable. After watching Kilian leave, Lithian squeezed at their intertwined hands, turned to face Casseth and hesitated.

“Cas…I—” He bit his lip, wondering how best to phrase his thoughts so that they would not offend the man before him, but still get across his meaning. “I would love to be your mate. I am your lover, and we have shared a bed, and I would like nothing more than to be mated with you, share a name, title, and family. In my culture, though, that—attaining that…it involves a process. One I wish — one I would certainly hope — that you would want to go through with me, but not one we have completed yet. It is an immense step, one involving preparation, time, thought, coin…it involves family, friends, ritual…and it is the stepping stone that separates the sort of relationship you have had with the women in the past, whom you have cared for, and bedded, but did not choose to spend the remainder of your life with and…I would hope…the relationship you wish to have with me. If it is your intention to spend your life with me, as I would hope to do with you, then tradition would dictate that either you, or I, would request to court the other…”

Lithian hesitated, eyeing Casseth, trying to gauge his reaction.

“It wouldn’t need to be anything formal, simply…an agreement, between the two of us, that we were serious, and on the road to a life together. And, while on that road, it would give us time to plan an official ceremony, which…” He dipped his eyes, abashed, “…I have always hoped to have, with whomever I took as my mate, and would hope you might partake in, with me…”

Lithian blinked, momentarily overrun by the unanticipated change of events. By the end, though, he was beaming beyond control, pulse quick, and eyes damp when he caught Casseth’s chin in his hands. He kissed him. Again. And again, fingers shaking from the abundance of emotions with no other outlet.

“Of course,” he said, lacing the words between kisses and then holding his ground, eyes shut and forehead pressed to Casseth. “My god, of course I’ll have you. Cas…I can’t remember ever wanting something more…”

And so it was that Lithian Bhardvaris and Casseth Fedele — a highborn peisio dovaa of solid repute and mixblooded hybrid with ties to little higher than a family of tradesman — promised themselves to each other in a courtship that would last several years to come.