Archive of Our Own

“Don’t have sex with my sister.”

A few of the peacocks squawked outside of the pavilion. The owner of the facility insisted they added to the ambience, but Lucien thought they were just a pain in the ass - much like the owner, the biological father he was getting acquainted with while conveniently collecting a paycheck. And much like the Jiu-Jitsu instructor standing arms akimbo in front of him, interrupting his morning tea.

“And a good morning to you, too, Feyre.”

“I’m serious,” she said, leaning forward with what was meant to be an intimidating squint. “I don’t want to hear anything about your fire dick near or Cauldron-forbid in Elain.”

Lucien grinned. “So you have heard the stories - ” He swallowed the rest of his gloating when Feyre used that deceptive strength hidden under her wiry frame to jab his chest. “Right, got it. No sleeping with your sister. As if I know who Elain is or I’m going to find her so irresistible I can’t keep it in my pants.”

The warm sun cutting shapes through the latticework of wood and vines couldn’t keep the chill from Feyre’s glare. 

Lucien would deny the accusation more if Feyre herself hadn’t caught him hooking up with one of his students a few weeks ago. That’s what he got for insisting they go to the Barre room to fuck in front of the mirrors while the perky brunette gripped the bar. Worth it. She’d been every bit as pliable as she’d seemed in class -

Feyre jabbed deeper. Lucien lifted his hands in surrender, lips curling into a smirk. 

“Picture of professionalism, I swear it. Need me to cross my heart or pinky promise, Fey?”

She kept her eyes narrowed in suspicion, but relented the bruising pressure. Brute of a female. Lucien rubbed his chest while Feyre stepped back. “No. Just know it won’t be me you’ll deal with if you make a move on Elain.”

The unspoken threat: Nesta. No one was worth taking on that insane woman’s wrath, but he couldn’t let Feyre know that. Lucien’s lips stretched further into a more flirtatious smile, showing off his pearly whites.

“If you and Nesta are guarding her so tight, she must be some looker, huh? Is she coming to one of my classes? How will I recognize her?”

Feyre snorted. “You’ll figure it out.”

Ominous? Promising?

Lucien didn’t have much time to consider the odd conversation, with Helion ringing the gong to start the day’s full log of classes.

–

Love at first sight was a thing of folklore, like mating bonds of the past, not something that happened to real fae anymore - if ever. It had to be lust. Pure, simple lust.

So why couldn’t he move?

Lucien’s legs seemed to be made of lead weights. Rooted to the spot where he’d been weaving between students as he led them through their warrior poses, mind elsewhere after Helion had pulled him aside to discuss Lucien taking on more responsibilities with the business. It was odd, having a father so invested in him, ready and willing to share the success he continued to reap from Day Studio. Was running and eventually owning an upscale gym really something Lucien was interested in?

The question panged around until everything else in the world ceased to matter.

Until those big, fawn brown eyes came up from cobra and bore into Lucien’s very soul. Stole his breath and apparently, his mind right from him.

Hello, love of my life, and who could you be?

How could a single moment, a single shuttering inhale, feel like an eternity? He already knew this nameless female in his soul, Lucien was convinced. The thread of her wove throughout his entire being; if she pulled away he would completely unravel and fall apart at the seams.

I have to know you. Who are you?

It clicked when she didn't falter under his gaze, only cocked her head questioningly before settling confidently into her next pose. As if the full attention of a male instructor whose reputation was nearly completely built on gossiped appreciation for his looks was nothing.

The kind of ease and confidence rivaled by only one other female Lucien knew. Feyre Archeron. 

Right, this was the sister Feyre had warned him of. The treasured Elain that Nesta herself would skewer Lucien over. They had every right to be so protective of this precious creature.

Feyre had warned him against falling into bed with her sister - but why hadn't she warned Lucien against the greater threat? 

Of falling deeply, madly, inconceivably in love with Elain Archeron.

No, no. Not love. Saying the gut-twisting, skin-singing, full-body need to know this female in front of him was love … 

It couldn't be. 

This was some weird response to Feyre's threat. Forget that the sight of Elain Archeron only elicited the most visceral need to hold, care, cherish.

Lucien swallowed dryly.

Cauldron, he wasn't even a little hard. That wasn't how he lusted .

“Ahem.”

Lucien’s gaze snapped to the middle aged female behind Elain Archeron. He blinked dumbly at her.

“A little help?”

“Oh - right. Sorry, Alis.”

Swiftly, he moved around the love of his life - Cauldron above, not the love of his life, just the most beautiful fae he’d ever laid eyes on - so Lucien was positioned alongside Alis. Absently, he was still guiding the class through the poses, but they were on their third repeat of the series and it was mostly breathing he reminded them of. When Alis jutted her chin for him to lean closer, he did.

“Yes?”

“What the hell has gotten into you?” Alis whispered, eyebrows jumping up. Ever the mother hen.

“Nothing,” he lied terribly, eyes darting to the side.

Sweet Mother. The class had moved into downward dog. If Lucien hadn’t been in love already, the sight of Elain Archeron’s ass up in the air, heels pressed down so her thighs flexed apart and let the luscious curves of her -

“Lucien? Lucien? Are you listening to me?”

No, Alis could try all she wanted, there was no distracting Lucien from the pull of the most incredible cunt he’d ever beheld. Singular in nature, calling like a wicked siren donned in athletic fabric. The lines of her folds pressing around the playful orange fabric crossed every wire in his brain. 

Did he salivate, did his mouth run dry? 

Lucien's nostrils flared, trying to catch the scent he knew waited for his worship just beneath the surface of that fabric. 

The blood in his body changed course like a river reversing its current. 

Down, down, down.

Definitely not up to supply his rational thoughts.

With the force of a magnet and his body a lowly piece of metal unable to resist, Lucien was drawn towards Elain. His thoughts short circuited - oh, right, "move to the front of the mat to forward fold." It took everything in him to swallow the whimper in the back of his throat as Elain did just that less than a foot from him.

A thick braid fell over her shoulder as Elain gripped her calves with delicate hands. 

Fingernails painted with daisies and french tips. 

Lucien was impressed he could tear his eyes from the shape of her ass and cameltoe on full display to notice, but then again, he was a professional. Kind of. He’d only been instructing for the year, and he’d dallied with more than one student, flirted with the rest, but … What professional could resist a goddess herself gracing their studio floor?

"Half back on inhale."

She didn't open her eyes as she followed his direction, eyelashes resting on her cheeks and face softened. The picture of centered focus. 

Although she was new to his class, Elain only had a dewy sheen to her skin to give away any exertion. Others were broken out into full sweats. An Archeron through and through, capable and strong.

Lucien carried through the rest of the moving poses. Elain never broke her focus or gave away any indication she noticed the instructor was remaining close to her mat. It was intoxicating, how she was driving him crazy, sending everyone of Lucien's nerve endings into overdrive, without putting in any effort to be anything other than in the moment.

The warm smell of peach blossom drifted from her and then Elain squatted deeply into a starburst breath and Lucien was nearly knocked off balance as the sweet, warm scent of her true self wafted to him with the motion.

Lucien's voice broke on the next reminder to maintain the zipper in the core with each inhale.

Alis was still staring at him with bug eyes, like he'd grown a second head.

Or maybe she could tell just the effect Elain's scent was having on him.

Lucien was thankful for the loose fabric of his tank top that was tight around the chest but drifted away from his middle and hung low - hiding the show of his arousal. Hopefully the other fae in the room missed the shift in the air, dispersed among the aroma of working bodies. Besides, enough horny fae stunk up the room whenever Lucien got into poses with them. They could deal.

How they weren't all popping boners or soaking their panties at the sight of Elain stretching, compressing, lengthening …

As badly as Lucien wanted to touch, feel, know Elain Archeron to the smallest freckle on her skin or dimple on her thigh, he made himself go to the front of her mat. She was already up in tree pose, a saving grace she wasn’t eye level with Lucien’s own growing wood. 

That brilliant, beautiful face and those fawn eyes were directly on him, wide open now. Lucien felt unworthy and blessed all at the same time. 

It was that dazed feeling, like he’d been struck in the head, that must have loosened his tongue and made the words tumble from his mouth.

“Do you believe in magic?”

Elain’s thin upper lip, but well defined cupid’s bow, twitched, before pursing with a plump bottom lip. “Is that what you ask every student?”

Mother, her voice was smooth and dripping like honey. The sweetest sound Lucien had ever heard. “No,” he said. Breathlessly. Raspy.

It must have sounded much more intentional - what male could possibly be so enraptured so quickly? “My sister warned me about you, Lucien.”

Where Feyre was all hard, sharp edges, Elain was soft. Lips, gaze, the roundness in her cheeks and the cute button end of her nose that the Mother herself must not have been able to resist booping when molding this walking vision. Lucien wanted to lean forward and taste those supple lips, especially when Elain’s pink tongue darted out to wet them, leaving a thin sheen of saliva to glisten temptingly.

His knees quaked at the sound of his name on her tongue. Obscene. Ethereal. 

The rest of the class moved around them into their cool down routine. Alis’s stern voice taking over directions was only a buzz in the background. Nothing, no one, existed to Lucien except Elain.

Sweet Elain. I will make you come dusk until dawn and break only so I can spend the day feeding, caring for you, so you have energy to do it all over again the following night.

This had to be love.

Or Lucien was losing his mind.

Either way, he may need to be locked up to control his roaring feelings.

Elain cocked her head to the side, thick lashes batting. “But she didn’t say anything about cheesy pick up lines.”

“It’s not a pick up line. I think there’s magic at work here.”

“Oh?”

“I’m enchanted.”

“By?”

“You," he laughed breathlessly, lungs burning as his muscles worked to remember vital functions beyond her . "You, of course, Elain.”

Elain tipped her chin back and that honey voice joined his laughter. 

It shattered whatever remained of Lucien’s pride. Anxiety gave way to euphoria - she likes me, she likes me, she's laughing! He’d get on his knees to kiss this woman’s feet, the ground she walked on, that delicious looking cunt if she ever indulged her simple supplicant. 

Cheeks flushed when they settled, Elain studied him with curiosity and an open mouthed smile. “You’re dangerous, Lucien. Maybe more dangerous than Feyre let on.”

“Does that mean you feel it too?”

“Feel what?”

“The magic.”

Her chest was rising and falling against the white crop top that hugged her rib cage and cut off to expose her soft belly, rounded hips - Lucien needed to run his tongue down those smooth lines, needed to press his fingertips into those downy curves.

People began filing out of class. Alis muttering something about long lost friends united or maybe lunatics. Lucien could care less. As long as Elain kept watching him with rapt, feline attention.

"You mean it," she whispered. He could have missed it, if not for how hard he was staring at her mouth. "You …"

There was a shift. Levity transitioning in her features to wariness. 

No. No, no, no -

"Elain!" Feyre shot into the room like a twiggy comet, catapulting into her sister's side. "Stop harassing her, Lucien! We have a frozen yogurt date with Nesta and the boys we can't miss …"

Lucien stopped listening as Feyre led her sister off her mat to the cubby with her shoes. Still under her spell, watching full hips swing to the rhythm of her steps, Lucien squatted down to roll up Elain's mat. Handed it to her wordlessly, unable to tear his gaze from still tense features, as Feyre chatted away. Oblivious despite all of her talk.

"See ya tomorrow!" Feyre called over her shoulder, tugging Elain out of the studio.

That thread the middle Archeron wove through his entire being threatened to unravel. Lucien absently gripped his ribcage, unable to breathe once again.

Elain's hand shot out at the doorway, breaking free of her pushy sister's hold. She paused, stared at him with those large, blinking eyes, before her lips melted into a slow smile.

"I'll see you around … Lucien."

And then she was gone.

Lucien remained, a stupid grin plastered across his stupid face.

Lucien .

His body might never recover, his heart felt like it was in arrhythmia. Finally alone, he collapsed onto the studio floor and let the cool bamboo flooring ground into his body once more the piece of his soul Elain Archeron had taken right out the door with her.

–

Orange.

The curry on his plate was the same shade as the pants Elain had been wearing in class.

Lucien closed his eyes, tried to stop the swell of arousal at the visceral imagery that came to mind. Would he ever be able to see the vivid, slightly burnt color of orange again without thinking of that sumptuous pussy on full display? The swells of ass cheeks and hips that rolled like hillsides in his homeland?

A choked noise brought him from his revelry.

His mother was looking wide eyed between him and Helion, the back of her hand pressed gingerly against her lips. What at first he feared was shame turned into a chortle of laughter.

"I thought that scent was you at first, my love!" His mother's eyes crinkled in amusement, then wide open once more in shock. "Lucien, what has gotten into you? At the dinner table?"

Helion wore an identical expression.

His parents that still behaved like freshly reunited lovers - who made sharing a home with them unbearably uncomfortable, even if just for meal times before he escaped as quickly as possible to the pool house. Lucien chastised them constantly. No matter how happy he was to see that look of joy on his mother once more, the musk of arousal always in the air was nauseating.

To accidentally be the source of that scent. At the dinner table. Because of the color of curry.

Lucien wanted to crawl under a rock.

"What's this all about?"

"I'm a young male, it's not that odd -"

"Not that young."

"Look," Lucien grimaced. "Can we not talk about it? Sorry, for … I didn't mean it. I don’t want this to turn into another coming out dinner."

Helion and his mother leaned in even closer. Eyes alight. Creepily, they both reached for one of his forearms. As if every fae parent was this deeply interested in their offspring's shot through scent of arousal. 

It really was like a repeat of that dinner when they’d plied him with Helion’s flavorful food and his mother’s favorite whiskey until he was spilling his guts about, well, the fact he also had males in his guts … The two had been tickled by the looseness and forthright details Lucien had shared about his bisexuality. “Natural for fae, they’ve just forgotten with all this conservative human comingling,” Helion had affirmed, while his mother had sighed dreamily while reminiscing on her time with females.

Cauldron, his parents were too invested in his sex life. 

Enjoyed discussing the topic more freely than Lucien could ever get used to after the conservative, tight ass upbringing in Beron’s household.

"You can tell us. Is there someone …?"

"Oh, Lu! Is there someone ?"

Lucien had never been in a serious relationship, he'd created these monsters. Starving for information on his love life. Where he did or didn’t put his dick. If he needed any tips on pleasing his partners. If he needed them to buy more of the morning tonic - 

Elain would be a vision with a pregnant belly.

Had the hips for easy childbirth.

Mother burn him alive. Lucien felt fire dancing in his blood at just the thought of Elain bearing his children. He’d never even considered children outside of his parent’s questioning when he would give them grandchildren.

Whatever this was, it was swallowing him up whole.

Lucien’s parents hardly blinked. Expectant. Eager. Too eager, really. 

Too loving.

Lucien groaned and dug his hands into his hair, damned curry that got him into this mess long forgotten.

Now that they’d brought it up, Lucien was bursting at the seams to share … What? That he was a lunatic, had utterly embarrassed himself in class because of a gorgeous female? Hadn’t been able to stop hyper analyzing their entire interaction, every look she’d given him, every dip and rise of her tone?

This was more than Lucien ever wanted to share about his relationships - or, pursuit of a relationship -  but the ones before had only ever been casual. He didn’t understand what he was feeling and if it was really love , who better to help than the most grossly in love couple he knew?

Lucien took a steadying breath, let the inhale burn in his lungs for as many counts as he could handle to steel himself …

"I think I'm in love." 

It burst out with his exhale.

And since this was already embarrassing, Lucien might as well give them all of the details. Like a floodgate opening when their expressions didn’t immediately melt into panic or horror, he let the rest rush out. 

“But I just met her and her sisters are insanely protective. Also I might have scared her away. Or she thinks I just want to hook up because of what her sisters have told her, which are definitely exaggerations… but after what Feyre saw last week not that far off. So, mostly exaggerations. Or she just thinks I'm terrible at pick up lines. Either way, not a great start.”

The gentle, reassuring pressure of his parent’s hands had moved to his shoulders as Lucien held his head. As he spoke through the curtain of his hair, he could feel through the unsure pats they gave him that his mother and Helion were utterly thrown by the confession.

Crazy. Lucien was definitely crazy. 

“Feyre? Is this … Not the angry sister?”

Lucien shook his head.

Helion made an appreciative noise. 

"Oh? So this is good?" His mother stage whispered, completely unperturbed by his father's reaction.

"Elain has a soul that sings. Despite the hardships those females have been through, she has taken it all in stride with a heart of gold." A soul that sang and bass to match … But his mother didn't need to hear that . Helion tapped the table meaningfully. "Son, I can't say I blame you. She's a wonderful choice to fall head over heels for."

"Like father, like son."

"Mother," Lucien groaned, feeling very much the petulant child and unable to care enough to alter his tone.

"What, Lu? It's in your blood to know the one the moment you lay eyes on them!" He caught the unbridled glow of happiness in her rosy cheeks as his mother gazed upon his father across the table. "If you can avoid the mess in between … Well, I'm sure it didn't go as badly today as you believe."

"Oh, I think it did. But thank you, mother." He gave her a wearied smile, accepted her outstretched hand and squeezed. "I appreciate the support. Especially since it seems like I'll be burdening you for the foreseeable future."

She pinched his cheek fondly as she'd always done since Lucien was a child. "Never a burden. If she's worthy of your heart, she'll see that too. I've no doubt."

"I've never heard truer words spoken," Helion crooned.

The two began making eyes at each other in a way that made Lucien's stomach lurch. He'd already lost his appetite in the face of his embarrassing situation and confession, so there was no time like the present to slip away from the table and back to the pool house. 

To consider if there really was anything salvageable from the day.

And how fabric could hold so dutifully around such an ample ass.

–

Late to work.

Because he couldn't sleep.

Lucien had stooped low enough to stalk Elain's socials - aided by Feyre as his mutual. How he'd never noticed the middle Archeron in pictures with her sisters before astounded him. Probably because he only scrolled through for a reason to make fun of Feyre. Damn karma.

Elain was possibly even more stunning in photos. Caught in candid moments of joy, playful sass, or serenity, there wasn't a single frame that didn't seem to catch a new angle of her beauty. A new opportunity for Lucien to gawk.

He hadn't even thought to jerk himself off until he came across the beach vacation photos.

Now, slinking into the gym, unable to avoid greeting everyone because they all knew him , Lucien made a beeline to Feyre where she was leaned against the juice bar's counter. When she caught sight of him, she didn't tense or seem immediately murderous. A good sign?

"Fey."

"Lu."

Cauldron, one lunch with his mother and Feyre wouldn't let him forget. It was bad enough he had six brothers to rub in the pet name.

Lucien sidled up to the bar. Picture of calm. Rested with his back to the cool surface, elbows back, posture open and relaxed. His hair was already up in his typical bun, so he wouldn't be tempted to fidget with it.

"How are you?"

Feyre thanked the barista and took an obnoxiously long pull of her green drink, looking him up and down with the cool assessment of a female confident in her ability to disarm any male that so much as looked at her wrong.

"Good," she finally answered, smacking her lips.

Lucien's eyebrow twitched. "Good drink?"

"Hits the spot."

She sucked loudly again. Dared anyone nearby to make a sexual joke. Unfortunately for her entertainment, no one was dumb enough - Feyre's reputation too well known.

Not that it was going to stop Lucien.

Casual, stay casual.

"So." Lucien cleared his throat, stared at the huge sundial in the center of the lobby. The bubbling brook meandering through the heated stone floor. The Cauldron-damned peacocks strutting about.

Casual. He was the epitome of casual .

"What did your sister think of my class?" 

Feyre's eyes narrowed instantly. 

Fuck.  

"Why?"

"Shit, Fey, because I'm an egotistical bastard who wants to know if my skills live up to the high Archeron standards." He looked at her sideways, lupine grin in place. "Gas me up a little."

That settled the prickly female. Feyre shrugged and sipped her drink again.

"Elain didn't say anything. Must not have met her standards." But those cool gray blue eyes didn't drift from his face. "More quiet than usual, really. You didn't try anything …?"

Lucien shoved his hands into his pockets. "And risk the wrath of you and Nesta?"

Gym members streamed by. Where he could normally find a potential pursuit, Lucien found nothing but poor substitutes for the fae he'd rather be looking at. 

None of them came close to looking as good as Elain, none of them oozed charisma and sweetness.

"Look at me."

Lucien swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing.

"Lucien."

When he turned to meet the dangerously calm female, his shoulders slumped. How could he fake how strongly he felt about Elain? Especially when Feyre was one of his closer friends, closest co-worker by far. And since Elain was her sister, maybe she could help him out …

If she didn’t kill him first.

"I didn't say … much - no, it's not like that!" Lucien interrupted, before that scrunched up face could begin to berate him. Idiot! Could he get any dumber? Feyre was like a brick wall when she got set against an idea. "I didn't hit on her! I swear, Feyre, it wasn't - it was - well…"

Feyre planted her hands on her hips, drink forgotten on the bar. "It's what , Lucien? Spit it out! I told you Elain is off limits, like hell I'll let you hit and quit it with my sister - ”

When she landed the punch, Lucien didn’t flinch as badly as he would have liked to. So much ferocity in such a small package. Pain radiated from his bicep, but he maintained eye contact with the gremlin to sell the lie he knew would dig himself out of this catastrophic lapse of judgment.

“I’m fucking with you!”

“Oh.” Feyre rocked back on her heels, jaw working as she considered him once again. “Really?”

Lucien rolled his eyes. “Really.” He rubbed the sore spot from her punch. “Elain seems nice and all, but not worth pissing you off.”

Lies .

“Does the rock troll know you stole his right hook?”

Throw her off the scent with a compliment.

Feyre grabbed her drink with a twitchy grip, but a pleased smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “You know I’ve been training with Cassian and Azriel.”

“So … Rock trolls.”

The swat Feyre gave him didn’t sting near as bad as the punch. “Be nice. They could kick your ass. Speaking of, if you really aren’t going to be a creep about Elain, we’re all having a dinner get-together. You should come.”

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Don’t go, they’ll all be able to tell and they’ll all kick my ass for Elain -  

“Yeah, sounds great. Text me the details?”

The words got out before Lucien could clamp his mouth shut. 

Well, that wasn’t ideal.

He’d be walking into the lions’ den. Feyre’s and Nesta’s boyfriends and their tight knit friend group were going to rip him apart.

But the thought of seeing Elain.

Lucien would get ripped to shreds a happy male if he got to spend another moment breathing in her perfect scent, catching one last glimpse of her glorious ass, hearing her honey rich voice.

Feyre shot him a toothy grin. “You got it, Lu!”

“Don’t call me that - ”

“Ah, gotta run, my class is about to start!”

Twin braids bounced on Feyre’s retreating shoulders as she jogged away, shoulders bouncing with laughter. What a little shit. 

Lucien let out a deep exhale and set his mind to pushing the Archerons from his mind - at least until his lunch break. The itch to pull out his phone and scroll through Elain’s pictures was tempting, but he was a male with better control than that.

Right?

–

The near obsessive amount of time Lucien had stared at pictures of Elain was embarrassing, even in his own head.

Until he accidentally double clicked and “liked” one of the photos.

At two in the morning.

Lucien threw his phone to the opposite side of the room and buried his head under the pillows, flushed from the tips of his ears to his chest.

She hadn’t even come back to one of his classes in over a week. 

Feyre had invited him to the family dinner, as they called it, in three days with its dressy attire in true mob family vibes and Lucien had accepted. Now he would have to attend with the weight of not only his mortifying words to Elain, but the unmistakable early hours photo like …

Maybe Feyre and Nesta tearing him apart sooner than later would put Lucien out of the misery he was causing himself.

–

“Damn, Vanserra, you know how to clean up! Didn’t think you knew what a shirt sleeve was!”

Cassian greeted him boisterous as ever, clapping him on both shoulders and shaking him like Lucien didn’t have internal organs he wanted kept intact. No one would come to his rescue either, so he accepted the giant dog energy the male couldn’t repress if he tried. 

Rock troll or Illyrian, no difference in strength .

Lucien tried to smile through the reeling of his insides. “Could say the same thing about you.”

“Hey, the ladies request an excuse to get dolled up, and I’ll never deny them!” Cassian threw a wink at any willing listener. 

Breezy as the sheer scrap of fabric twined around to cover all of her important bits in scarlet red, The Morrigan of reality TV fame quipped, "You know it's Rhys who enjoys getting dolled up the most, not us ladies."

The roar of laughter that left Cassian was accompanied by more boundless enthusiasm - sent straight through Lucien’s unfortunate shoulders and collarbones that had yet to be released. Lucien clenched his teeth through the tremors, wondering if the thought of silly love was really enough to take this abuse, endearing or not. 

He hadn’t seen Elain yet and his soul still held in his body, maybe he could slip out and no one would notice.

Cauldron boil him, Cassian shifted to a near strangling arm bar so he could free his other arm to wrestle someone else into his orbit. Lucien was going to suffocate under that swell of bicep crushing him.

Surprisingly, a familiar cool voice came to his rescue.

“Cass, you’re going to wrinkle Lucien’s shirt,” Nesta said carelessly, as if she couldn’t see Lucien’s pleading eyes begging for help. “And stop playing grab ass with Az, dinner is ready.”

Her boyfriend listened eagerly. Lucien tried to hide the sucking inhalation of a full breath, kept himself collected as he stepped a safe distance away from the massive Illyrian - at least the other one next to him was closer to Lucien’s size, wouldn’t be unlike fighting off his older brothers. But Cassian was a force all his own.

Featherlight, Nesta smoothed the material of Lucien’s shirt, flattened his collar once more. Those eyes that matched Feyre's studied her work before narrowing on his face. Lucien swallowed audibly at the jolt of fear that ran like a shiver down his spine.

“Behave, Lucien. And welcome to family dinner.”

The warning hung so much heavier in the air than Feyre’s outright threat of violence. 

Nesta’s gaze lingered one punctuating moment longer, before she let hands so broad they nearly wrapped around her entire waist pull her towards the dining room. 

The briefest glimmer of unadulterated affection shown as Nesta clucked her tongue at Cassian for busting a button off of his shirt from roughhousing. Icy gaze completely warmed through gazing at her lover.

Lucien had to look away from the most insane spike of jealousy.

They were in one of Rhysand’s homes, the one perched on a cliff edge with a multi-million dollar view of the lapping waves of the ocean and pink hued sunset. Rhys was Feyre’s current sugar daddy. Although not the first one she’d been with in the time Lucien had known her, this one seemed like the real deal. Lavished Feyre with anything she could possibly want, endorsed her with the likes of the Morrigan to boost Feyre’s own following - which happened to greatly benefit the gym as well - but more importantly, only had eyes for her even in the boisterously filled dining room now.

Lucien was thankful for the formality he was raised in, that he’d had an outfit ready to blend in with this company of family and friends that dripped in extravagance. 

Before he could take stock of the tens of thousands of dollars wrapped up in diamonds and jewels that bedazzled half of the attendees, Lucien caught sight of honey warm waves of hair and fawn eyes.

A tunnel of sight and sound. Only Elain, hovering just behind her seat with the stem of a wine glass held elegantly in her hand and smiling fondly at something Amren, a small and terrifying female Lucien thankfully barely interacted with, was saying.

A vision in a blue jumpsuit, sprinkled with white daisies to match her nails. The halter top put on full display thin, strappy tan lines, the light dusting of freckles on her shoulders, the pillowy curves of her arms. The cinch at her narrow waist only accentuated the mouthwatering shape of her hips, a shadow of the dip of her belly - no display of her pussy tonight, the material flowing away into wide legs.

But the designer of the jumpsuit could do nothing to contain the swell of Elain’s luscious ass that seemed to threaten the back seam’s integrity as she swung around to wrap Mor in a greeting embrace. 

She had to stand on her tiptoes to reach the towering female’s cheek to place a kiss.

Lucien’s stomach clenched. He fought back a whimper. 

Damnit, how could she be a walking wet dream and so adorable at the same time?

“You good?”

The other Illyrian was at Lucien’s elbow. Watching him closely. 

Were they all on a schedule? A “Potential Threat to Elain’s Innocence” security watch?

Lucien stuck out his hand. “Lucien Vanserra, don’t think we’ve met.”

“Azriel.”

The handshake would have made Beron weep for the show of male strength and bravado Azriel put into it. 

Lucien had spent too long in Helion’s dreamworld, where fae did yoga and pilates all day before sipping a vegan juice at the poolside bar, but not so long he forgot how to meet that kind of show of force.

A clear challenge.

Lucien wouldn’t back down. Kept his grip firm, without crushing, russet eyes locked with hazel.

Finally, the Illyrian smirked. The handshake ended and he briefly squeezed Lucien’s shoulder - right over top of the bruises Cassian had left behind.

“Alright, Lucien. Alright.”

Apparently he’d passed the test. The enigma of a male drifted to the otherside of the table, leaving Lucien with the reminder he needed to strictly control his expressions - or inability to think when he caught a glimpse of Elain.

Easy enough, right? Just don’t look like an idiot .

“Oh, Lu, come meet Rhys,” Feyre called, waving him over to probably the wealthiest male Lucien’s ever shared breathing space with.

“Lu?” The male flashed a smile fit for a magazine cover, as dazzling as the earrings dripping with jewels along the point of his ears. 

“Lucien to anyone else but this menace.”

“That’s not true, it’s what your family calls you,” Feyra butted in, sticking her tongue out at him. “And since I’m the perfect little sister you never had - ”

She squawked when Lucien nearly got a hold of her hair to muss it out of its careful updo.

“Little sister, hm?” Rhys looked between them, settling a not particularly pleasant stare on Lucien. He realized a second later: protective .

As if Lucien would want anything to do with the brat outside of their platonic banter. As if Feyre’s spitfire nature could compare in any way to her sister’s gentle, steady presence. But Lucien couldn’t profess his too-intense love for Elain to Rhys, so he settled for an easy nod back without breaking eye contact.

Just like with Azriel, that seemed to settle any of Rhys’s concerns. He broke into a smile and announced for everyone to take their seats.

That’s right, half-Illyrian. They raised them different in those mountains. Maybe the high altitude and lack of oxygen made them so invested in not wasting breath on discussing their feelings, settling for grunts and unspoken exchanges.

The hosting couple remained on their feet because Rhys had wrapped Feyre against his body for a brief kiss that quickly heated, audience be damned.

Surprisingly, the fierce fighter she was, Feyre melted against the male. She placed her head between Rhys's collar and jaw, stared lovingly up at him. 

It felt like an intrusion to watch, but Lucien couldn’t look away - not even with the now becoming familiar spike of envy.

How would the weight of Elain feel there? Tucked in where all he would have to do was drop his chin to kiss her forehead.

Like nothing at all? Like everything?

Dangerous thoughts for a dinner where he had to pretend he wasn’t lovestruck. Maybe Lucien would get seated next to Amren. He’d rather deal with the pit viper if it meant getting a handle on himself.

–

Feyre sat Lucien right across from Elain.

A test of his will power and restraint. A test of Feyre and her inner circle's trust in him.

Pity, Lucien really liked them all, but he'd break that trust in a heartbeat if Elain was willing. Scattered to the wind like the fine dust his bones would be pulverized into when Nesta or Cassian got ahold of him.

Worth it though.

Breathing, thinking, remembering automatic muscle movements like lifting a fork to his mouth, all became olympic level feats as Lucien’s mind split between the tasks, the conversations ebbing and flowing around the massive table and Elain. 

Elain, Elain, Elain.

Radiant as the sun.

Every time she spoke to him - casually, politely, as if it didn't beat the significance of the heavens, opening up to converse - Elain was pleasant, but her attention flattered quickly to another burst of laughter at the table or playful banter sent flying across a steaming dish of lobster claws.

Avoiding him or playing the game, Lucien could accept it. Welcomed it, even. Each time he opened his mouth to answer some small talk question, he risked the chance of showing his whole ass to the table just like he had in his studio.

Gods, just don’t talk about magic, you dumb ass.

Alis was still poking fun at him for losing his mind over a pair of orange leggings.

She thought it was all about sex.

She didn't get it. But, then again, Lucien didn't really get it either.

Didn't get how he'd survived before Elain, didn't get how she could take up so much space inside him already. Love at first sight , his parents had assured him, Lucien felt to his core - meaningless if Elain didn't reciprocate his feelings. And he had no right to expect she did.

Lucien wasn't going to let himself fall down that spiral tonight. He was going to enjoy this fine dining, rubbing elbows with interesting fae, and bask in the sheer presence of Elain Archeron.

Even if she didn't love him back, now or ever 

It would be fine.

Lucien could handle this.

–

Lucien could not handle this.

Dinner turned into impromptu dancing - which turned into Lucien escaping to one of the balconies for fresh air. And to get away from the image of Azriel holding Elain close, supporting her through a spin, leaning into each other to laugh.

A multi-million dollar view and all Lucien wanted to do was lean over the railing and throw up the expensive wine and meal Rhys had provided. Gone was the suave, easy mover through society, replaced with a lovesick, jealous male.

It was so against his nature it made Lucien want to throw up all over again.

Of course someone as perfect as Elain would have a line of admirers. 

And Lucien was a fuck boy, nobody to her.

"Is it the oysters?"

Lucien jerked his whole body from the railing at that honey voice drifting out of the doors he dumbly left open behind him. Framed by the raucous laughter and music behind her, Elain watched him from the doorway. Hesitant.

Lucien ran a shaking hand through his hair - shaking , Cauldron alive. "No, I'm fine. Just, needed some fresh air. Lots going on in there." 

A stronger male would have kept eye contact with the stunning female asking after his health, but Lucien had used up all of his strength at what should have been a fun night getting shit faced on someone else’s dime. So he stared at the balcony's plank flooring, putting in a conscious effort to keep the pained look from his face.

Elain hummed and seemed to make a decision, stepping into the tepid night air and closing the massive French doors behind her. 

"It is a lot."

"It is," he repeated. Dumb. So dumb.

"And it has nothing to do with me and Az dancing?"

Her voice didn't peak over her sugary sweet melodic tone, but there was no meekness in her posture as Elain planted herself against the railing beside Lucien, arms crossed and gaze unwavering.

Stronger than him, that was certain.

Lucien gave a sorry excuse for a smile. "Am I that obvious?"

Elain cocked her head. "Have you been trying to be subtle?"

That made Lucien's insides shrivel. So everyone could tell. Had he just been the entertainment for the night? The sad sack panting after Elain that they could all threaten and watch squirm under their occasional menacing stares - until Elain herself did the honors of crushing Lucien’s hopes?

Elain breathed out a soft "oh". Not pitying because of the likely miserable expression Lucien was failing to hide, but like she was coming to a realization. 

"I thought … " She pulled her plump bottom lip into her mouth, worried it between sharp fae teeth. Dazzling brown eyes sparkled with gold, amplified by the lantern lighting on the balcony.

Waves crashed against the cliffside in the distance.

Lucien clung to the thoughtful pause. 

“When Feyre told me about you, I had just assumed. Well. You don’t seem like a bad guy.”

And while the chance shining in Elain’s eyes, to contradict whatever tales her sister had spun, was so tempting to take - Lucien couldn’t. Couldn’t lie to those earnest, round eyes.

“Those stories are true, Elain,” Lucien admitted, fidgeting with one of his thin braids. “I don’t want to mislead you. I’ve had fun . My partners have always been willing, had a good time and we either parted amicably or what we wanted out of the relationship didn’t … align. But, whatever Feyre told you, she wasn’t exaggerating. Probably, at least.”

Saying it, admitting it to this sweet female he so desperately wanted to like him - forget love, they could work on that - felt like taking a punch to the gut.

Too much fun, he’d over indulged. Lucien should have -

Tinkling laughter cut off his self deprecation. Elain’s eyes widened in surprise at her own reaction, lifting her hand to delicately cover the giggling she couldn’t seem to suppress.

Lucien furrowed his brow. 

They really did bring me here to be the night’s entertainment . 

No, not Elain. There was no way. Her social feed, the comments she dutifully left on her sisters’ posts, always bubbled with uplifting, positive messages. Elain didn’t relish in tearing someone down.

Or maybe she ate up males and spit them out.

Elain shook her head of shining, wavy hair. “S-sorry, I’m not - You seem so sad!”

“I’m ashamed, I’m not a male worthy of -”

Elain cut him off with a finger pressed gently to his lips. Lucien shut his mouth and stood stock still as Elain held him like that. Although they were a different color then her sisters’, she still looked very much the predator when she narrowed her gaze on Lucien and spoke in a lowered voice.

“I’m going to let you in on a secret, Lucien. Promise to keep it between us?”

Lucien nodded wordlessly. Every nerve ending in his body was honed to where she still touched him, the salty tang of her skin he could just catch on the tip of his tongue when he pressed it against his lips. 

His heart beat frantically in his chest, ready to leap out, as Elain leaned in, tilting her chin to keep their eyes locked.

“I like fun too.”

Peach blossom already enveloped Lucien on the salty ocean air that hung in the warm night, but when he snorted it was like taking a straight line of Elain. It was just as intoxicating as the first time. Nearly dulled the racing of his thoughts as Elain’s words sunk in.

I like fun too .

She dropped her hand, but only to let it rest on his chest, picking at invisible lint.

“But, all of them, they’re so …”

“Protective?”

“Murderous.” Lucien felt overbearingly hot. 

Elain was touching him. Lucien could feel the steady press of the palm of her hand, the press of her fingertips as she brushed the fabric of his shirt and his flesh beneath it. Elain was touching him. She was right here, admitting that she also liked casual hook ups and looking vulnerable as her mouth opened and closed, trying to find the right words.

It wasn’t enough. It was the best feeling in the world. Lucien didn’t want her to ever move her hand, wanted her touching him everywhere. Wanted to hear every thought trapped in that sharp mind that seemed at odds with the way others painted her. 

Elain wasn’t some docile female looking to be protected. She liked to have fun too .

Taking Lucien’s inability to form a coherent thought as patience - one good thing Lucien’s stupidity had done for him so far - Elain began speaking.

“They mean well. The last serious relationship I had didn’t end well. I got my heartbroken.” Elain waved her hand at the gathering still in full swing behind her. “They all love so intensely, but they do it with their hearts and not always their heads, y’know?” 

Fire was trailing on his skin.  

Elain had stopped pretending at cleaning his shirt and instead was rubbing the plains of his pectoral absently, brows crinkling adorably in thought. He’d thought all his reserves of willpower had been used inside the home, but it didn’t compare to keeping his attention on processing the words Elain was saying while her hands moved so freely on him.

“They have this image that I'm fragile because they helped me through that time … But I’m stronger because of it, because of them. I’m not the same Elain anymore and they’ll see that. Eventually …”

Her words trailed off.

Lucien felt shell shocked, afraid to break this moment. He was also actively fighting internal combustion if his body temperature went any higher.

But he couldn’t let this time go to waste. Lucien needed to force himself to speak, to get out something meaningful. At least show appreciation for Elain opening up to him.

How they’d been lucky enough to go uninterrupted so far was a small gift from the Mother herself.

Elain’s lips pursed, pulling Lucien’s attention back outside of himself.

“Why did you like that picture, out of all of them?”

A breathy laugh escaped Lucien. “It’s embarrassing.”

Elain raised a brow. “More embarrassing than liking someone’s picture at two in the morning?” 

“Fair enough.” Lucien scratched the back of his neck, pulled at the nape of his hair for a sensation to distract himself from the desperate rush of blood begging, begging, to go lower as Elain continued to rub circles on his chest. Did she know she was driving him to insanity? “It was the, uh, the pants. The orange yoga pants from class.”

Her hand stopped moving.

It was a heart stopping moment where Lucien worried he’d said something wrong, that Elain was going to call him out for being a creep or really just a player after all.

Going against every one of his assumptions: Elain, beautiful, multi-faceted Elain, smiled . A smile that held a devious curl at the edges as she studied him under half lidded lashes. 

There went Lucien’s self control. 

She’d know exactly what that look did to him in the three seconds it would take the scent of his arousal to hit her nose.

“You like the color orange?” She practically purred.

Lucien was back to nodding dumbly, a stilted movement with how tilted his neck had become to look down at her. 

When had she gotten so close?

There would be no explaining this away if someone came outside.

A second hand pressed onto his other pectoral.

“Well, if these are the muscles yoga practice gives, maybe I’ll have to wear them more … to more of your classes?”

“I would like that.”

“You would, wouldn’t you?”

Lucien was so turned on by this brazen, flirty side of Elain. She was the picture of serenity in his class, but this female knew exactly what her pussy looked like in those orange pants, Lucien knew it. Elain, the apple of her family and friends’ eye, who was game to have fun , to play with Lucien - but. 

But whatever Lucien thought he could settle with, panic shot through him. His stomach clenched and heart rate picked up once again. There was sweat beginning to bead along his spine. 

It wouldn’t be enough.

There had never been a moment before, such absolute surety, that Lucien couldn’t be casual with a partner. With other fae he’d considered had potential to develop into a serious relationship - although few and far between - the idea of messing around until they figured it out hadn’t bothered him.

Not with Elain. 

It wouldn’t be enough. Lucien needed her, all of her.

He hadn’t even been able to look at another with interest for the last few weeks, since they’d met. It made Lucien’s chest ache at the thought that Elain would still be looking at others, if they were just messing around.

What was wrong with him?

“Lucien? Are you alright?”

It was hard to breathe, his vision spinning,as Lucien tried to crawl back out of his panicked thoughts, back to Elain’s concern laced voice.

He was fucking this up so badly.

The back of cool hands pressed against his cheeks.

“Breathe, Lucien. You need to breathe.”

It wasn’t that his lungs weren’t begging for just that, but everything was squeezing too tight.

He hadn’t had a panic attack for years, not since he lived in Beron’s home. He was really losing it, going to lose Elain before he even had her -

The strong scent of cherry chapstick hit him before Lucien registered the soft lips pushing against his. The hands on his cheeks had dropped back to his chest as Elain pulled herself flush against him.

Soft, soft, soft. Peach blossom, cherry chapstick, a hint of hair spray.

He had to breathe to relish in the scent of Elain, pressed up on her tiptoes against him.

Elain parted her lips, licked his bottom lip, and it was the gentle, comforting reassurance of her presence that released the sigh of exhalation from Lucien. She huffed against his open mouth, but didn’t pull away for several more moments.

At some point, Lucien’s arms had wrapped around her, supporting her back and gripping the back of her jumpsuit like a life raft.

“Are you back with me?” Elain asked, breath ghosting over his lips. Content to let Lucien support her weight as she stretched against him, big brown globe of eyes darting around his features, trying to take stock of his emotions.

Lucien blinked, dazed, as oxygen began to circulate again and his head went through the combined rush of that and … Elain, Elain had kissed him. “Yeah, I’m … Yeah.” His voice was hoarse.

Elain smiled, bright as sunshine even on the balcony with scant lighting. She carded her fingers through his hair with a curiosity like she’d been wanting to do it all evening.

“Want to tell me what’s going on?”

“I … ” Love you. Cauldron, she’d go running. Lucien pushed through the fog in his mind, let his eyes drift shut to focus on the gentle sensation of Elain tentatively pulling on a braid. “I think I really like you.”

It was childish, but it would have to do. Better than an over the top confession.

“And that’s … bad?”

“Not bad,” Lucien corrected quickly. “Just, unexpected. You’re like no one else, Elain. I can’t describe it.”

She smiled again and Lucien really wanted more of her chapstick on him. He wet his own lips on instinct.

“Unexpected, hm? I can agree with that.” Elain was staring at his mouth intently, but being the stronger of the two, she stayed focused. “So, does that mean you don’t want me at your classes?”

“No! I do!” Lucien bit the inside of his cheek against the outburst. “I just … I don’t want you to think I just want to have fun?”

Elain looked away from his mouth, brow scrunched. The wariness from his studio crept back into her expression. Lucien’s heart dropped into his stomach.

“You don’t owe me anything, if you’re not interested in that.” Lucien was speaking too quickly, words fumbling as he tried to backpedal away from what had driven her away the first time as well. “You’re not mine or anything, you can do whatever you want.” The wrinkle in her brow was getting deeper. “Come to my class and ignore me, that’s fine! Or come to my class and then let me take you on a date, that would be great. But I can’t pretend I don’t like you more then the others, before, and - ”

Elain cut him off with a kiss.

Thank the Mother .

Nothing else made sense, but when her lips were pressed against his, Lucien didn’t have to think about it.

When they broke apart this time, Elain took a full step back. It left Lucien’s arms, chest, everything, cold. Empty. But it also gave him space to inhale fully, to stumble back against the railing, and try to collect himself.

Elain looked over her shoulder. 

It really was surprising no one had interrupted them by now.

“They’re going to get suspicious … If I walk away, you’re not going to throw up or have another panic attack, right?”

Lucien tried to straighten his back, right his shoulders, present his normal confidence and swagger - no matter that he was sweaty, felt like he’d just run a marathon. “Of course, I’ll be fine. Go back to dancing. I’ll, uh, just be a few more minutes out here and then I’ll probably head out.”

In what was becoming a familiar perplexed expression, Elain cocked her head to the side and blinked owlishly. She tucked some hair behind the point of her ear, drawing attention to the line of her neck.

Stunning .

“Are you sure?”

He nodded.

Elain took a step back. Edging towards the doors. It wasn’t clear if the hesitancy was for him or her own emotions.

“Give me some … time. I thought I had figured you out, Lucien, but … ” She shook her head. “My sisters were so far off. I should have known, they never agree on anything.”

“Some time, then.” 

If he was going to be a mess in everything else, Lucien could at least be helpful here. She deserved anything, the world really, but he could settle on patience, distance, time .

Lucien smiled in reassurance. “Thanks, by the way. For stopping that spin out.”

Elain nodded, and for the first time he noticed a blush creeping up the fair skin of her neck, spreading to her cheeks. Bashfully, she ducked her head and wiggled her fingers in a final goodbye, before turning and leaving him alone on the balcony.

Thankfully, the railing supported the weight on his elbows as Lucien collapsed against it. Feeling boneless, muscles jelly.

What the hell had just happened?

A spark of hope flickered in his chest. Lucien would worry about tempering it in the morning. For now, he turned to face the ocean he could only hear in the darkness of night, and smiled dumbly to himself.

He ran his fingers over his still tingling lips.

It wasn’t everything, but it was something .

–

Coming from the pool, bubbles of girlish laughter mixed with the unmistakable bass of Helion’s murmurs. Lucien paused as the gate swung shut behind him, cursing himself for not controlling its closing and remaining silent in case he needed to leave without being seen.

“Lu!”

There would be no escaping.

Lucien shoved his hands in the pockets of his slacks and stepped into the pool’s glowing ambient lighting.

“You two are up late,” he said, keeping the emotion from his tone as he watched his mother untangle herself from his father’s dark limbs.

“We were waiting for you!” His mother’s dreamy voice exclaimed as she paddled her way to the side of the pool he was standing at. She smiled sweetly up at him. “How did it go?”

Helion drifted to her side, as natural as a fish in water. “Did you see Elain?”

Lucien rolled his eyes, but couldn’t keep from smiling back. “Yeah, I saw her. We … talked.”

“Talked?”

His mother’s light, airy voice nearly squeaked.

“Talked,” Lucien reiterated, but the lupine grin that followed gave him away. Helion laughed. “I know that look!”

“What? What else happened?”

“We kissed, but just a little.”

“Just a little? You kissed the female you’re madly in love with!”

Lucien’s face felt hot. “It wasn’t all that, mother. I was a total mess, she probably felt sorry for me, is all.”

“Psh!” His mother flicked water from her fingertips at him. “Don’t be silly. When will you see each other next? When can a cook for her, I want to meet this Elain. She sounds wonderful .”

“She said she needs some time to think things over.” Lucien shrugged. “Her last long term relationship ended badly, so I’m going to give her space.”

His parents exchanged knowing glances.

“What?”

“Nothing,” his mother sing-songed. 

Lucien sighed. They were going to be no help keeping Elain off of his mind until she’d made up her mind one way or the other. He excused himself to the idle chatter of fall wedding venues and shared laughter between the two of them.

–

Morning sunrays sparkled along the water features outside of the Day Studios main door. Looking like death herself, Feyre waited at the front door for Lucien as he sauntered to her. Whistling and spinning the key ring on his pointer finger. 

"Mornin', Fey!" He greeted cheerily.

Feyre looked like shit. Deep bags under her eyes and skin almost a gray pallor. She gripped her cup of coffee like it was keeping her balanced on her feet.

She grunted.

"Damn, did someone bring out the jungle juice after I left?"

"Yeah, where the hell did you run off to last night?" Her scowl deepened as she spoke, curling in on herself. Must have a hammering headache.

Lucien paid extra attention to the door as he unlocked it. "Oh. You didn't see me at all?" The lack of blood pouring from his nose should have been answer enough he wasn't seen with Elain, but it was worth checking. In case the squirreliest Archeron was waiting to spring the knowledge on him. 

"I don't know … After we danced?" Feyre glared at nothing and everything. "Az and Cass started doing shots and then we went out front for this stupid drinking game. Sometimes I think Rhys is too old for getting messy drunk and then we wake up with these gods awful hangovers … I don't remember you saying goodbye."

That explained the lack of interruption then. Had the two Illyrians drawn the group away on purpose? 

No, they were just as protective Elain had said. But the way they’d both seemed so accepting of him, maybe …

Maybe he should ask her.

Lucien stopped his hand halfway from pulling his phone out.

He didn't even have Elain's number. How was he going to ask her?

Time, space.

Right .

Lucien let out a whoosh of breath. Patience was not a virtue he was used to, especially with someone he wanted so desperately.

"Stop breathing so loudly."

Grinning, Lucien reached out to ruffle Feyre's hair - knowing her reflexes were slow enough he'd be able to dodge the inevitable jab at his side. He danced away, narrowly dodging a peacock that protested loudly for it, sticking his tongue out at her. Feyre raised her middle finger.

"There's the face of Day Studios!" Lucien crooned.

Pestering Feyre would have to be enough of a distraction.

–

Eris (7:31pm): I'm at the bar. Where are you?

Eris (7:35pm): Lucien.

Eris ( 7:40pm ): Respond to my texts. You're late.

Eris ( 7:44pm ): I'm leaving if you don't text back in two minutes.

Eris (7:48pm): WHERE ARE YOU

Lucien ( 7:50pm ): holy shit, class ran late. gotta change

Eris ( 7:50pm ): Hurry the fuck up. 

Lucien ( 8:12pm ):  🍆💦

Lucien shoved his phone into his back pocket before he turned to lock the gym door behind him. What was the point of being the youngest brother if he couldn't torment the rest? Especially when Eris made it so easy . OCD asshole.

He turned towards the parking lot and nearly stumbled as the breath was punched out of him.

Two weeks and three days.

It had been that long since he'd seen Elain Archeron.

He'd had to delete all his social media apps to stop checking her feeds.

And now here she was, looking like a goddess in a white flowing maxi skirt and a simple yellow ribbed t-shirt. Her honey waves spilled freely over her shoulders, tickled her cheeks from the slightest breeze.

Lucien made himself remember how to walk, couldn't control the smile that split his lips at the sight of his doe eyed daydream.

"Elain."

"Lucien."

He stopped a foot away from her, underneath the halo the street lamp provided in the quickly fading evening light. Elain rocked forward in her sandals, a pretty pink blush bringing out the freckles scattered across the bridge of her nose.

"Is the offer for that date still good?"

Lucien thought his cheeks might burst with how wide his smile grew. "I thought you would never ask." He stuck out his arm for Elain to easily loop her own through. "What sounds good?"

"There's a cafe down the street I like." Elain had her bottom lip pulled in between her teeth again. Anxious. It made Lucien hesitate.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" He asked, trying to settle the swells of emotions between excitement and dread.

Elain nodded, but kept her eyes on the path ahead of them. "I'm more concerned for you. Are you sure you want to do this?"

Ah. The sisters. The Elain Protection Squad.

"For you?" Lucien stopped their ambling progress along the sidewalk. Waited until Elain came to a pause, her eyes flicking up to his. "Absolutely."

That smile that could shatter and fix his heart a hundred times over shone with her cherry chapstick lips and pointy little teeth gleaming. Utter perfection.

Elain owned him body and soul, whether she realized it yet or not. And he would work his hardest to prove it to her until she did.

-

Eris ( 8:33pm ): How long does it take to get here???

Lucien ( 8:43pm ): sorry, not gonna make it. catch you next time ur in town.

-

They should have gone to the bar. 

Should have risked Elain meeting his prick of an older brother and getting scared off - although Lucien was ninety-five percent sure even Eris would melt into putty from Elain’s radiance. Hell, even if he didn’t, Lucien could have handled his infernally grumpy older brother, get him to at least agree to be polite if he plied him with top shelf whiskey.

Worst case scenario with Eris was still more ideal than walking into Elain’s favorite cafe and finding not one, but both of the other Archeron sisters in the first booth they passed.

A quick look at Elain, still on his arm, confirmed she had no idea they were going to be here. Lips parted in surprise, face heating almost instantly.

Lucien steeled himself for whatever fate may come.

“Good evening Archeron sisters, imagine running into you here,” he greeted smoothly, forcing himself to face his executioners with a fake, easy smile in place.

Lucien’s heart pounded in his throat. He swallowed around it.

For you? Absolutely .

This was his chance to prove that to Elain. Much sooner than he’d expected, but what was his timing if not terrible.

The fact emergency exits and escape routes churned in the back of his mind, Lucien couldn’t be blamed for. There was a sturdy table to duck behind if they used projectiles …

Sharp as a predator bird, Nesta locked on to their looped arms, flicked her gaze between their faces and posture, and back to Feyre. 

Here it was. The final judgement. 

Lucien braced himself, really wanted to stretch his tingling fingertips.

Face as cool as ever, Nesta resumed lifting her polite forkful of sponge cake to her mouth, but paused right before taking the bite. “You owe me money,” she said easily, one fine eyebrow arched.

Feyre groaned. “Nothing’s been confirmed. I might still - ”

“Look at Elain’s face. You lost - ”

“Lost what ?” Elain cut in, lips pursing and brow furrowing. “What are you two betting over? What does it have to do with me and Lucien?”

The other sisters exchanged a silent conversation between those brilliantly terrifying blue eyes. Nesta sighed in reservation, the resolution to whatever had been decided between the two that apparently she was going to fill them in.

“Feyre can’t resist playing matchmaker. She thought Lucien and yourself would be a nice couple, I disagreed given fire dick and all.” Nesta sipped her cup of floral tea, waved her hand nonchalantly. “But since you’re your own person, I let her go ahead with her scheming.” She looked at her sister now, expression softened only miniscule. “I hope you don’t mind, Elain. But after I saw Lucien practically drooling and tripping over himself at dinner, I made a bet with Feyre you two would be together before the end of the month.”

“Wait, this was your idea, Feyre?” Lucien cut in. “What happened to all of the threats - ”

Feyre made a “psh” noise and waved off his words. “C’mon, Vanserra, would I really encourage my sister to be anywhere near you if I didn’t trust you?”

Elain let go of Lucien’s arm to cross hers in front of her chest. Lucien mourned the loss of contact, but appreciated what it did to push Elain’s pert breasts up against the fabric of her shirt … 

He snapped his attention back to the sisters having a stare down.

Not the time or place.

“I don’t like you meddling in my personal business. You should have told me.”

“I’m sorry, Elain, I promise I was just curious if you two would hit it off! I didn’t know Lucien was going to lose his Cauldron loving mind when he saw you.”

“Still. It’s not respectful.”

Feyre glowered at the table with her bottom lip stuck out the slightest, the epitome of the youngest child being scolded.

Nesta picked up where the youngest couldn’t finish. “We apologize for meddling, Elain. Can Feyre treat you to something for the trouble?”

Feyre glared at the oldest, who only smirked.

“I don’t care to be in your company right now,” Elain said with a sniff. Her face was still flushed. “Enjoy your winnings by yourselves.”

With that, she grabbed Lucien’s hand and spun away from the table. They were out of the cafe quicker than Lucien thought he’d have made it even evading attacks from Feyre and Nesta.

In the night air, Elain let out a frustrated - helplessly cute - growl. 

“That went … differently than I thought it would,” Lucien said, still trying to process all of his limbs being very much attached, nose still in a mostly straight line - the little curve from an old break that had been a middle brother’s work when they were still young - and Elain holding his hand .

He hoped the giddy feeling from her touch never faded.

“They’re way too involved in my life!” Elain said, exasperated.

“Family tends to do that.” He squeezed her hand, his body reeling when she squeezed right back. 

“Let’s find somewhere new, somewhere neither of us has been. Okay?”

Lucien smiled down at those big, hopeful eyes, and before he could stop himself leant down to press a chaste kiss to Elain’s lips.

Cherry chapstick. Elain .

A taste he could get used to.

Elain swatted his arm. “Lucien, I thought this was going to be a very serious courting!”

Whatever show of confidence and male bravado he’d put on for her sisters melted away. 

Lucien frowned, worried he’d upset her by jumping back to where they’d been when she’d been interested in fun . He was the one who had insisted they were serious, he was sending mixed messages. 

“I’m sorry, Elain, I got carried away - ”

Elain bubbled with laughter, shaking her hair off her shoulders. She threw her arms around his neck to haul herself up to his lips.

“Easy, lover boy, I was messing with you,” she breathed against his mouth, before capturing it with her own. Warm and soft just like her laughter, sparking with the promise of so many more moments like this to come.

Eyelids still fluttered closed, thick lashes brushing against Lucien’s cheek, Elain pulled back just far enough to speak that their lips still brushed. “Lucien …?”

He hummed for her to continue. This was heaven on earth, holding her in his arms, Elain’s sweet, soft body pressed against him, her attention solely on Lucien. Her hypnotic presence was intensified by the rush of relief that they could very openly pursue whatever was blooming between them.

“Do you feel that?”

Cauldron, he didn’t think he was hard -

Elain cut off his panic with a conspiratorial whisper. “I think it's magic.”

A shocked laugh caught in the back of his throat. Lucien chased his own stupid words out of her mouth, loving Elain’s giggles that bubbled around her dancing tongue and shook her body against his. It was such a head rush to be here, with her, and he couldn’t help but secretly agree it did feel like magic still.

Lucien’s heart felt like it was wrapped in a fuzzy, cozy embrace. Like warm socks on a crisp day. Like Elain, the female he loved.

They parted when they remembered they were in the middle of a populated area, people having to swerve around them in the middle of the sidewalk.

“C’mon, food or you’ll fall over,” Elain said, taking his hand again and guiding him towards a row of restaurants.

Lucien didn’t resist the tug. He’d follow Elain wherever she directed.