Bast crept back into his room through his window. He shed his wet cloak and shook his hair out of his eyes, his hands were covered with wet soot, and he wiped them on his trousers. His face was grim, as he glanced toward his door. He seemed to make a decision and made his way onto the landing silently. He was about to pass the stairs leading downstairs as he heard a floorboard creak there. He slid down the stairs, one by one, avoiding the creaky one on the way down, and stopped short, just shy of the bottom, staring in awe. In the darkness he could see his Kvothe, not the innkeeper, but his tall, strong, fierce, gentle Kvothe, moving. Slow and controlled, his strange movements cut through the still air of the room. Dust motes were twirling in the moonlight where his hand had been an instant ago. Bast watched him silently, the lean muscles showing under his white shirt. He stood transfixed on the third step. He had never seen Kvothe practise Ketan before.

"You're awfully silent"

Bast jumped. Kvothe did not interrupt his Ketan, but the next move brought him around to face the stairs, as Bast slowly emerged from the shadow of the hallway. Bast said nothing, coming closer and watching every one of Kvothe's moves. The shirt was sticking to his body, soaked with sweat, and as he stepped closer Bast saw the stains that the muddled up bandages were leaving on the wet material. The fight must have done more damage to him than expected, he could see at least one of the scraels scratches had split open again. The Ketan was tiring Kvothe immensely, his limbs were shaking, and he nearly stumbled, as he mistook a step. Bast rushed forward to catch him and swallowed thickly, guilt wrenching in his chest.

"Reshi, why didn't you fight?" he said quietly.

Kvothe's eyes narrowed their green going murky as a swamp, and he released himself from Bast's supporting grip, sitting at a stool on the bar and looked away pointedly. "I told you I didn't want to talk about it."

Hesitantly Bast continued, "You said you did fight. Why would you say that? Two wayward bandits would never best you. They couldn't. Why did you let them do that to you?" He reached out gingerly to touch the other man's chest. Kvothe didn't move. "Why would you let them hurt you?" The murky swamp was churning darkly, but Bast wasn't looking at Kvothe's eyes, his eyes were on his own hands, that were fumbling with the buttons on the loose linen shirt. As he managed to pry them loose the shirt fell open, revealing last nights bandages, now battered and dislodged, and darkening bruises all over the other man's abdomen.

"Oh Reshi" Bast's voice was thick with emotion, small tears welling up in his eyes. "Why didn't you fight?"

Kvothe finally moved to look at Bast, an angry snarl at the tip of his tongue, when he saw the tears glistening in the clear blue eyes. The swamp lightened up considerably, still murky, but it was as if the sun had come up over it. The storm was over. "They're superficial bruises, they really didn't kick very hard, I'll be fine."

Bast glared at him, blinking away the tears and Kvothe was quick to add. "The bandages have been bothering me though, they got all messed up during it all…, and they're tugging at my stitches. Could you help me retie them? You have a better view of my back than me."

His expression softened and Bast nodded numbly. "I'll get my kit."

Bast helped Kvothe up the stairs and dashed off to his room to get his things. Kvothe moved stiffly, all the grace he had just mustered for his Ketan had disappeared. Bast's steps were silent as he re-entered the room.

"Sit" it was a command, albeit one issued gently, and Kvothe obeyed, letting himself down onto his bed gingerly. He unbuttoned the last two buttons, and Bast helped him slide the shirt off his shoulders. A sharp intake of breath told Kvothe it must be about as bad as it felt, but he was glad to be spared another teary "Oh, Reshi!"

Bast went to work silently, the bronze skin and white scars reflecting the candle light, wherever there wasn't dark bruises or fresh red gashes covering it. He peeled the crusty bandages off the cuts, and removed burst stiches, patiently replacing them. He ran his fingers along Kvothe's back while he was working. Gently tracing the scars, and the muscles, up the knobs of his spine. The muscles in his neck, his shoulders, his collar bone. "Does it hurt?"

"This? No, that feels rather nice." Kvothe grinned and turned to look up at Bast slyly but winced at the movement.

Frowning, Bast knelt in front of his master, placed his hands gently on his waist, where the bruises were most prominent and began muttering something, his face sliding into an unfocused gaze, his eyelids fluttering. Quickly Kvothe took the young man's hands away and held them between his. "Bast stop. Don't do that. Do you think I want you to suffer for my stupidity? I couldn't bare that. I'll heal, even without your magic." He gingerly brushed his finger against Bast's cheek, the one with the loose tooth, and caught a strand of black hair between his fingers.

"But I can make it go away" Bast said thickly. "I can make you whole."

"At what cost, Bast? Not one I am willing to pay" Kvothe was still holding the other man's hands between his, he squeezed them lightly, and then brought them to his lips, pressing them against the fine fingers. Bast's breath caught in his chest as his eyes looked up at the man with the red hair. When he had tried to work his magic, his eyes had revealed his fae features, they were now a deep pool of blue, with no whites, thick black lashes framing them elegantly.

"I'm tired, unge" Young one.

Bast rose and Kvothe groaned when he lay back onto his mattress. His injuries seemed to be more severe than he had let on. Bast sat on the edge and resumed his tracing of Kvothe's muscles, the chest – at least the part not covered by bandages – down the chiselled abdominals. "Unge? I am 6 times your age." he murmured softly, almost to himself. A small smile played across Kvothe's lips, from the touch and the remark, his eyes were closed, but they were moving rapidly under his lids.

"But not in Fae terms."

Quick as a flash Bast had leapt onto the bed. He was hovering over Kvothe, his body aligned with his. He was careful not to set any weight onto the injured man's body, and held himself aloft, his lips close to Kvothe's ear "But we are in your world my manling. And here, what counts for my age is my experience. And I have had a lot more time to gain experience." His hot breath washed over Kvothe's ear and cheek, making him shiver. Kvothe groaned lightly as Bast's warm lips caught his earlobe and then gasped as his teeth raked across it. Bast smirked with satisfaction as he felt a growth against his leg, where his body was only hovering half a centimetre above Kvothe's. His tongue and lips worked their way down Kvothe's jaw and his neck, that was flushed almost as red as his hair. Bast bit the flesh gently, and came back up to face his master.

"I know exactly what to do to a man to make him quicken" He grinned wickedly, meeting Kvothe's eyes, which were now wide with anticipation. "But alas, my tooth, I will not be able to deliver today."

Bast pushed himself off his master, deliberately rubbing his thigh along the thick shaft that was now throbbing in the redhead's leather trousers. Still grinning, he eyed the other, who was too stunned to speak, and said "Sleep well, Reshi", striding out the door and giving him one last longing look before shutting it.

His heart was beating unbearably hard. Bast was sure Kvothe must have felt it. He didn't know what had made him do it. He stood at the door, frozen in shock, delight and an inkling of terror. What he had said had been true, he was always confident and had had a lot of experience bedding all kinds of people, he had made many a bold Aturan weak in the knees, who before and after still swore they did not bed men. But then it was the thrill of the chase, the fun, the challenge, and ultimately the satisfaction. This was different, he thought about his Reshi every night. He chased the girls around town but when he bed them and closed his eyes he always saw fiery red hair, the golden skin, and the emerald eyes. He felt ashamed for taking advantage when the other was so fragile… but Kvothe hadn't objected to the teasing. And Bast hadn't done anything. He had just reacted to the playful banter. The playful banter that had brought back Kvothe to the surface, and banished Kote to the depths of this beautiful mind. And, Bast told himself, maybe Kvothe wanted it too; it must have been a long time since he had had any kind chance for sexual encounters. Maybe this could be the way to lure him out, to bring him out at night. This could bring back emhis/em Reshi.

Bast started when he heard a moan through the door. It wasn't a pained moan, this came from deep down, a moan of pleasure. Silent as a cat he stole through the hallway, out onto the slanted roof. The rain pelted down, soaking him through in minutes, but he didn't feel it. He edged closer to the slightly open shutter, where he could peer into Kvothe's room, without seeing the head of the bed.

The leather trousers lay tousled on the floor and the man was lying in his bed at an angle, one knee upright and his elbow propping him up onto his side. Bast could only see past the chiselled abs, but what a sight it was. His breath caught in his chest and his own member grew to nearly match the size of the one he was eyeing through the gap in the window. Kvothe was working it furiously, gasping and moaning lewdly. His hand slid up and down the shaft rhythmically as the muscles in his stomach danced as they tightened with the waves of pleasure. Bast's heartrate quickened again and he felt hot all over watching a scene he had only dreamt of till now.

"Oh, fuck" Bast heard over the patter of the rain. "Oh, fuck yes" his eyes widened as he heard a long low moan, and as he watched rope after rope of seed shoot from his prize, the beautiful body tensing in unison to the shivers and moans it succumbed to. Bast felt something hot and sticky in his own breeches, and realised he was shaking all over. Without looking back, he crept back over the shingles into the inn, and into his dark bedroom, smiling to himself giddily.