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The Hushed Honeybee Inn was quiet that evening, its soft lantern light spilling warmth across the walls. Outside, the faint hum of crickets filled the air, but inside, it was just Will and Strohl, tucked into a corner booth with a half-empty bottle of mead between them.
Will leaned back, his wispy blue hair catching the light like threads of spun moonlight. He absentmindedly toyed with the edge of his white cloak, eyes drifting toward Strohl, who was sitting across from him with his usual laid-back smirk.
“You know,” Strohl said, swirling his glass, “this is the most relaxed I’ve seen you in weeks. Seems like you’re getting used to leadership.”
Will chuckled softly, the sound like a breeze brushing through leaves. “It’s not so bad when the company’s good.”
“Flatterer,” Strohl teased, but his tone was warmer than usual. He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand as he studied Will. “Your hair’s a mess, by the way.”
Will blinked, raising a hand to his head. “Is it? I didn’t think it looked that bad…”
“It doesn’t,” Strohl said, his voice softening. “I like it. It’s got this… ethereal thing going on. Like you’re part of the sky or something.”
Will’s cheeks tinted pink, and he looked away, suddenly very interested in the grooves of the wooden table. “You’re one to talk about looking ethereal,” he mumbled. “You always look like you stepped out of some romantic painting.”
“Romantic, huh?” Strohl’s smirk widened, but his teasing tone held a hint of sincerity. He reached across the table, his fingers brushing Will’s hair. “Seriously, though. It’s soft. You take care of it, or is this just natural magic?”
Will froze for a moment, feeling the gentle tug of Strohl’s fingers as they smoothed through his hair. “I—uh… I guess it’s just… how it is?” His voice cracked slightly, and he inwardly cursed himself for sounding so flustered.
“Relax,” Strohl said, his hand lingering. “You’re allowed to take a compliment, you know.”
Will finally met Strohl’s gaze, his heart skipping a beat at the warmth in the other man’s silver eyes. “Thanks,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
They stayed like that for a moment, the world outside the inn fading away. Strohl’s hand slid down to cup the side of Will’s face, his thumb brushing lightly against his cheek.
“You’re something else, Will,” Strohl said, his voice low. “You’ve got this way of making everything feel… I don’t know. Lighter. Like it’s all going to be alright, even when it’s not.”
Will swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest. “I could say the same about you. You’re… steady. Even when I feel like I’m falling apart.”
“Guess we make a good team, then,” Strohl murmured, his face inching closer to Will’s.
Will didn’t move away. His breath hitched as he felt Strohl’s forehead rest gently against his own. The tension between them was electric, and for a moment, neither of them said a word.
Then, almost tentatively, Strohl closed the distance, his lips brushing against Will’s in a kiss that was soft and slow, like the first rays of dawn breaking over the horizon.
Will melted into it, his hand finding its way to Strohl’s wrist as if to anchor himself. The kiss deepened slightly, a quiet promise passing between them, unspoken but understood.
When they finally pulled apart, Strohl chuckled, his thumb brushing against Will’s jaw. “Been wanting to do that for a while.”
Will’s cheeks were crimson, but a shy smile tugged at his lips. “Me too.”
Strohl leaned back, his smirk returning but softer now. “Well, good. Now I don’t have to keep pretending I’m just interested in your hair.”
Will laughed, the sound light and genuine. “It’s a nice bonus, though, right?”
“Definitely,” Strohl said, pouring them both another glass of mead. “To us, then. And to a lot more nights like this.”
Will raised his glass, his smile brighter than ever. “To us.”
-
Will’s shy smile lingered as Strohl reached for his glass, their fingers brushing briefly. The inn felt quieter than ever, the soft hum of the lanterns barely registering in Will’s mind. All he could focus on was Strohl—his touch, his warmth, and the way his amber eyes seemed to drink him in.
“Y’know,” Strohl said, setting his glass down without taking a sip, “it’s getting late. We should return to our room.” His voice was low, almost teasing, but there was an edge to it—a quiet invitation.
Will’s breath hitched. He hesitated for a moment, his nerves warring with the warmth spreading through him. But the way Strohl looked at him, so steady and unyielding, melted away any lingering doubt.
“Yeah,” Will murmured, his voice soft. “We should.”
Strohl’s lips curved into a knowing smile as he stood, holding out a hand. Will took it, his heart pounding in his chest as Strohl led him toward the staircase at the back of the inn.
The climb was quiet, save for the faint creak of the wooden steps. Will’s hand remained in Strohl’s, the warmth of his grip grounding him as they reached the second floor. Strohl stopped outside a room, turning to face Will with an almost boyish grin.
“This yours or mine?” Strohl asked, his thumb brushing lightly over Will’s knuckles.
“Does it matter?” Will replied, his voice steadier than he felt.
“Not really.” Strohl chuckled and pushed the door open, leading Will inside.
The room was simple but cozy, with a single bed, a small dresser, and a window overlooking the quiet street below. The moonlight spilled through the glass, casting a silvery glow across the room. Strohl closed the door behind them, his movements slow and deliberate.
Will turned to face him, his nerves bubbling up again, but Strohl’s gentle smile put him at ease. “You okay?” Strohl asked, stepping closer.
Will nodded, his voice soft. “Yeah. Just… new territory.”
Strohl reached out, his hands settling on Will’s hips. “We can take it slow. No rush.”
Will let out a shaky breath, his hands coming to rest on Strohl’s chest. “I don’t want to take it slow,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
Strohl’s eyes widened slightly before his smile returned, warmer this time. “Good,” he murmured, leaning in.
Their lips met again, this time with more urgency. Will’s hands slid up to Strohl’s shoulders, his fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as Strohl’s arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer. The kiss deepened, heat blooming between them as they moved toward the bed.
Will gasped softly as the back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress. Strohl guided him down gently, his lips never leaving Will’s as they settled onto the bed. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in their shared bubble of warmth and light.
Strohl’s hand moved to Will’s hair again, his fingers threading through the soft blue strands. “I wasn’t lying earlier,” he murmured against Will’s lips. “Your hair’s like magic.”
Will let out a breathless laugh, his cheeks flushing. “You’ve got a thing for my hair, huh?”
“Maybe,” Strohl teased, his lips trailing down to Will’s jaw. “But it’s not the only thing I like about you.”
Will’s heart raced as Strohl’s kisses moved to his neck, his touch firm but careful. He tilted his head back, his fingers gripping Strohl’s shirt tighter. “You’re not bad yourself,” he managed, his voice trembling slightly.
Strohl pulled back just enough to meet Will’s gaze, his smile soft but filled with heat. “You sure about this?” he asked, his voice low and serious.
Will nodded, his hands sliding up to cup Strohl’s face. “I’m sure.”
That was all Strohl needed. He leaned down, capturing Will’s lips in another searing kiss as the moonlight bathed them in its glow. They’d forever treasure this quiet, stolen moment in the Hushed Honeybee Inn.