Blue-flecked sand worked its way between his toes as Ash stepped out of the river. Water ran down his body in rivulets and plastered his hair to his forehead. He strode across the cool grass to the base of a massive tree, picked up his jeans and pulled them one. Though the river had washed away the blood and grime, moving still hurt the puncture wounds in his chest left by the chuul's pincers. They were closing up, but painfully. Not that he'd let anyone know.
When he reached out to grab his shirt, his fingers closed on empty air. The branch was empty. An apple core rested in the grass below. Ash ben to pick it up. "Oy, Ice Boy!" Puck perched in the braches above him, perpetual smirk on his face. "Nice abs."
Ash glared up at him. "Shut up, Goodfellow." He turned to walk away when Puck called out to him again.
"Looking for this?" The summer trickster was waving a T-shirt in the air like a victory flag. His white teeth were visible behind soft lips. Somewhere in the back of Ash's mind a little voice wondered if Puck would taste like apples. He shook the thought away like a pesky piskie.
"Give that back."
Laying back of the branch and letting his hand hang down, Puck regarded him playfully. "Come up here and make me."
With a sigh, Ash started away from the tree. "Really, Goodfellow. I'm not in the mood."
Puck's voice was mocking. "What's the matter, Your Royal Iciness?" Ash could almost hear Puck's smirk. "You get one scratch and suddenly you're afraid of a little challenge?"
"I am not afraid of a challenge," said Ash, facing Puck.
"Then prove it."
Ash wrapped his hand around one of the lower branches. Even though heat seemed to live in the wood, he remained cold. He pulled himself up into the tree, the gashes in his skin protesting. He ignored the pain and climbed up to where the summer faery perched. They sat still for a moment, each regarding the other lazily. Suddenly Ash lunged out, his fingers brushing the hem of the shirt. Puck laughed and leapt to another branch. Icicles followed after him.
Splinters worked their way under his nails as Ash grabbed the bark to go after Puck. Already the jester was half way up the tree. Ash's wounds were protesting, and he could feel a small trickle of blood running down his back. He paused, staring up at the cluster of leaves where Puck had disappeared. An apple dropped from above and hit Ash's shoulder. The summer faery was grinning down at him, his tongue stuck out in a most childish manner.
Ice shot from Ash's open palm, piercing the leaves. Puck let out a little gasp. Quickly, Ash made his way up to where the summer faery sat, his feet and legs now encased in ice. Ash smirked, bending to snatch his shirt from Puck's grasp. Just before he pulled it away, the material turned to vibrant blue and silver moths. The fluttered away in a cloud of color, revealing Puck, grinning, with his feet freed from the ice.
"Nice try, Ice Boy." Puck's easy smile was as annoying as it was charming.
Glaring, Ash took a shot at Puck's head. The summer faery caught his fist, long finger closing easily around his knuckles. To Ash's surprise, Puck pulled him forwards. Clumsily he fell against Puck's chest, a blush heating his face. He saw Puck's eyes widen, and then their lips were pressed together.
Despite the look of shock on his face, Puck didn't pull away. Instead he deepened the kiss, his fingers running through Ash's hair. Pleasantly, Ash noted that the summer faery did indeed taste like apples. The crisp sweetness of the fruit still clung to his tongue. Ash smiled against Puck's mouth and pulled back just a bit. He hands closed on the hem of Puck's shirt. "If I can't have mine, you can't have yours."
The summer faery pressed his lips to Ash's again, brushing his fingers over the fabric. It turned to a cloud of lightning bugs which settled among the leaves. Their white and yellow lights were daytime stars. Even Ash had to recognize that it was beautiful.
Puck's hands brushed over Ash's chest and he grimaced. The gashes had been aggravated by the climbing, and now Puck's touch made them burn. Breaking the kiss, he looked at Ash with concern. Ash waved him away. "It's nothing. Really."
"I doubt that," said Puck. His fingers brushed the puncture wounds again, lighter this time. Then he dipped his head, pressing his lips to the cuts one by one. Small shivers ran up Ash's spine. The kisses left spots of fire on his skin. They were torture and pleasure at the same time. He knelt on the branch, placing his fingers under Puck's chin and raising the Seelie faery's lips to his own. Puck's hands framed Ash's face. He eased Ash backwards until he was lying on top of him. For all his fighting skills and strength, Puck was surprisingly light. His weight felt familiar and comforting.
Ash could feel Puck grinning against his mouth. Hands brushed the waistband on his jeans and he gasped. Puck pulled back, a questioning gaze in his eyes. Water from Ash's hair stained his face like rain. Nodding, Ash reached up to pull Puck down again. Puck's hands pressed against his stomach, slowly sliding downwards. It was something Ash had never known he wanted, but now he was sure. He wrapped his fingers around Puck's back, lacing his fingers together.
"Ash! Puck!" Meghan's voice drifted up through the leaves. Puck pulled back with a rueful smile, and Ash groaned softly.
"I guess we should get going."