Author's Note:I have a surprise for all of you. This is the second last chapter! It is! Just one more chapter to go and this fiction will be over. I know it's been a long time, but I have to admit that I am a selfish person and as a writer, I enjoyed doing this. I just hope I didn't bore everyone else in the process.
Author's Note2: Forgive the long chapter, but I included a little pick-me-up at the end for everyone who has spent all this time hoping to see a little less dialogue and a lot more skin.
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It was all very well being told the story over breakfast by a heated forest sprite who hadn't slept because he'd been so badly effected by it all. And to hear Gildred and Braan say very pointedly that apart from present company- and Toby was pleased for the first time to hear that he wasn't classed as human- they had never met a mortal that had seemed worth knowing. They argued very well in point of fact, asking what humans had ever done for the Underground.
Pandora had very scathingly pointed out that without humans, there would be no progress in the Underground at all. "Have you ever met anyone in the Underground or in your own lands that spend time trying out new inventions?" she snapped, "Oh yes, you forge a new sword or you build a new cottage. And you use the same heavy-handed method of production that has been handed down to you since time began! Let us be honest, for all our magical abilities, we none of us have any imagination."
Gildred wasn't convinced. "I would say we have too much," he replied bluntly, "Since we can look ahead and see the damage that we cause by taking jobs away from those that need them, and for living our lives as though the only thing that matters is that we rest our bodies for an hour more than we already do."
Toby had stayed very silent throughout the conversation. Eventually they had just forgotten about him. Until he stood up and drew their attention by pointedly leaving the room. Then, and only then, did the Lady and Gildred look a little ashamed of themselves.
Jareth still asleep but Toby was not on his way to see him. Everyone was talking about the Goblin King's new acquisition. Any goblin could tell him where he was. Toby deliberately called Gibil up and asked to be taken there. The goblin twitched his long ears and took off eagerly down the corridor, chattering away about the latest news in the Goblin City and in the Castle. Toby listened with half an ear and thought about how awful it was for Carl.
Gibil pointed him to the right door and Toby knocked softly.
"Come in."
He went in very cautiously, wondering whether he was not acting without thought again. It was all very well for Jareth to tell him to do so, but Toby was aware that just banging into a room and asking a lot of tactless questions would only create ill feeling. He wanted to make the man feel safer and more resigned. He noticed that he seemed to have come to his job late.
"Hello," he said awkwardly, "Sorry to disturb you but I came to see if you were alright."
Carl stood up and shifted from foot to foot. "So what, do I drop to my knees or something?" he asked dully, "Do I bow?"
"Er, no. Not really. It depends on what the situation is. I usually shake hands." Toby held out his hand, knowing it was just one of those comforting gestures that people missed when they came Underground. "I am sorry to tell you that most others do bow. If you copy what they do, you cannot offend anyone. Except for the Goblin King. Bow to him and let him speak to you. Try not to let him upset you."
Carl shrugged and looked around. There were two chairs by the window and he waved to them. "You can sit if you want."
Toby looked at the chair and grimaced. "I have a better idea," he suggest peaceably, "Would you like to see the Castle and the Goblin City? I can help you understand the people a little." He noted the reluctance. "I know this is difficult for you. But I am human too and I empathize."
Brown eyes- and didn't they remind him of another fae pair- widened in surprise and relief and then Carl latched on to him with something akin to desperation as he began to babble in spurts. Toby was disconcerted but recovered fairly quickly, letting him talk as much as he wanted before leading him out. The only time he stopped the other man was to firmly introduce him to Gibil.
"This is Gibil," he said simply, "He is a goblin. You will see a lot of them around here, sincethis is the Castle of the Goblin King and the goblins serve him with complete loyalty. They keep this Castle in perfect condition. Gibil is a friend of mine, however. Gibil, this is Carl Jenkins."
"Mr. Jenkins," the goblin said, bowing to him with perfect gravity, "Me is happy to be of service."
Carl's jaw dropped but he muttered a thank you and Toby considerately took him away with a smile and a nod at Gibil. Gibil went away happily enough to find Jareth and tell him all about the little encounter. Since that discussion, he told Jareth everything, and he told Toby everything except that he also told Jareth. It worked. It was a complex system, but it had its uses. It kept Gibil alive, for one thing, and smelling of anything but the Bog.
More than once, Carl shook his head in complete disbelief and asked if it was a dream. "It's too weird," he said distrustfully, "How do you get used to it? Where are all the computers and televisions?"
"In the Aboveground," Toby replied honestly, "We prefer to keep them there. Most of the races are intelligent but goblins need to be given simple tasks. Complex machinery confuses them. Besides, merfolk, fire sprites and centaurs would have physical trouble with mechanical things."
"Cen-centaurs?"
"Yes. Torsos of humans and bodies of horses. We should see a few in the Goblin City."
Carl settled for another shake of the head. Brown eyes staring inwardly and his hands dug deep into his pockets, he looked the picture of dejection.
Toby wracked his brains to think of something to say. "I hope your family will not miss you too much," seemed a stupid thing to say but it was all he had. Short of beginning a lecture on the innumerable differences between the Underground and Aboveground, he was stuck.
The brown head shook in even more dejection. "No. I haven't spoken to my folks in years. Not since I came out."
Came out? Toby tried to comprehend it and couldn't quite drag his mind to the necessary places. The vague sense of wondering must have shown on his face because Carl snorted and held out the crystal he drew from his pocket.
"Came out?" he repeated, "Told everyone I was gay?"
Toby understood this part. He didn't converse with humans very much, but everyone knew gay was slang for homosexual. It was general knowledge now, and people had always thought they had to use human terms with him, even though he usually didn't get some of them himself. Or didn't remember them. "Oh. I am sorry; I did not realize."
"That I was gay?"
"That you were not on speaking terms with your parents," Toby clarified, "It must be hard. I have not spoken to my parents in years either."
"Oh. I guess His Majesty wouldn't let you just say hello a few times, huh?"
Toby stifled chuckle. "Actually, no. My parents died and Jareth brought me down here."
"Who's Jareth?"
"The Goblin King."
"You know him?"
There were several ways Toby could answer that. He could be flippant and say, "No one knows the Goblin King," in a suitably mysterious voice. Or he could shrug and turn the conversation around to something less fraught with difficulty. He could even, should he so want to, laugh lightly and say very little. "He is my guardian," he settled, "He saved me from the car accident that killed my parents and brought me here to live with his mother."
"He has a mother?"
"Of course. Why do you think he wouldn't?"
"I don't know. It just seems strange, all these people walking around with magic. Elves and fairies and centaurs. I can't quite imagine what a baby centaur looks like."
"A foal, you mean?" Toby smiled and shook his head, "They are born like foals and kept in safe places until their backs and legs are strong enough to carry them."
"Okay. That makes sense. So you're, what- a Prince?"
"Oh no! We have no actual royalty here. Just the Goblin King and a few titled nobles. We do not work on any hierarchy, you see." Toby couldn't see the spark of recognition anywhere on Carl's face. So he took the time to sit them both down and explain a few things to him. He told him about Jareth and the way the Labyrinth worked, he told him about what happened to the Wished-aways and he told him a little about the way that the Underground worked.
The talk obviously turned to other, more personal, topics. Toby didn't answer very much but Carl chattered anyway, out of his depth and trying very hard to relate to someone in this harsh new world. Toby listened, heard all about Donnie and the world he hadn't seen since his parents' death, and he wondered a little of what it would be like to live up there.
By the time night fell, Toby realized what day it was. He handed Carl over to Gibil, sent his excuses to His Majesty King Jareth and to the Lady Pandora, asking to be excused for the evening on the grounds of tiredness. He slept like a log for most of the night but woke up at three in the morning with a clear head and a strange sense of calm.
So he would be adopted very soon and in another few months even his educating would be at an end. The Lady Pandora would turn him over to one of the guides, those whose specialized job it was to guide humans in the act of conversion. Ten to twelve months after that and he would be fae. And the Lady's son. That last sounded nice- he would have a family again and he had always thought of Pandora as his surrogate mother in any case. Familiarity would be a bit hard- Toby hadn't used the term 'mother' for over fifteen years- but he could work on it.
The thing to fear, as the mortal's irritatingly rational mind rolled out, was his siblings. And not both his siblings, just the one brother. Good brothers did not share the memory of good sex, at least not sex with each other. And good brothers did not have fights where they treated each other like hostile enemies. Moreover, good brothers generally had some sense of trust in each other. Jareth had been very quick to draw sword against him. Though, now that Toby thought of it, from the way that Jareth spoke of Dieter, he would probably have done the same for his natural brother.
Which left Toby in a predicament, one that he felt just a little guilty for being in. The thing was, he didn't want Jareth as his brother. They would make horrible brothers! And while they could certainly pretend for the general public and do whatever they wanted in private, Toby was a little too honest to be reduced to that. That was the coward's way out, as Franja would have told him.
By the time dawn broke, Toby was a little clearer in his mind. He had settled with being a coward. There was no other way for it. Even if he decided to fall in love with Jareth in one day- and he was reasonably certain that he wasn't already there yet- there was no chance that Jareth would reciprocate. Oh, they liked each other well enough. They challenged each other. They were attracted to each other. But in love? No fear of that!
The mortal spent another day with Carl, finding him a little more comfortable, a little less talkative. Like most humans, the vast magnificence of the Underground proved too fascinating against the cynicism of the world Above. In another four years, Carl might find the Underground restrictive, but by then he would have converted and he would have begun to make a life for himself. For now, fascination would keep him sane.
They talked some more and this time Toby took him down to the City. Carl met the elvish healer, got unceremoniously drenched with soapy water from an upstairs window and got asked by a fire sprite if he could take his head off. By the time they returned to the Castle at the end of the day, Toby was quite certain that Carl would be alright. Donnie wasn't forgotten, but even those memories faded in time. At least, the memories would not fade, but the need would.
Toby was counting on it. He had, as Beran called it, an agenda.
Jareth was in his study when Toby found him, tallying up the numbers of challengers for the past year and clicking his tongue because the numbers were dropping. "Too few," he mumbled, "Much too few."
"Jareth?"
"Hmmm? Come in! Stop lurking in doorways."
Toby raised an eyebrow, but smiled because those irate words were all bark with no bite. Jareth glanced up from the ledger just long enough to show the humour in his eyes before bending over his task again. A moment later, the slender right hand picked up a thin sheaf of papers- perhaps four in all- and held it out.
"The terms of your adoption. You can read them now," Jareth said seriously, "Or you can read them before signing. Either way, you will have to read them."
Toby took the papers and began but got stuck halfway through the first paragraph. He had determined not to think of the adoption until such time as he was confronted with the document. And now was too early for it. His mind rejected knowing and he put it down. "I trust you to know what you are doing," he dismissed, "How long will you take?"
"Do we have plans?"
"The last night, Jareth."
The pen was put down and the Goblin King finally looked up. "Ah," he said simply. Leaning back in his seat, completely expressionless and absolutely enquiring.
"The Underground celebrates the end of an occasion as much as it celebrates a beginning," Toby pointed out, "We end tonight."
This time Jareth began to smirk. "I detect a trace of nostalgia for something that has lasted less than a year. Or even regret, perhaps, that it has to end at all."
Toby offered him a crooked smile, far beyond the point where he needed to defend himself to Jareth. "I am not in love with you," he nodded, "But I might miss you. Just a little. The sex at least."
The smirk widened and Jareth positively gloated as his ego sat up and took notice. "It was rather good."
"Stop patting your own back. Have you forgotten it was a joint venture?"
Jareth laughed and stood up, stretching before shutting his ledger and tossing it into a box somewhere. The pen got put back in its case and he shuffled papers around into messy piles that no one else really ever understood before jerking his head to the door with a silent order. "I believe you have a celebration in mind," he explained wickedly.
Toby had. He had given Gibil certain orders, made certain plans and if Jareth seemed so open to the idea, he was happy to carry them out. Remembering the first time he had walked that exact route, he took the fae up the stairs and down the corridors to that original suite. The Goblin King's suite, where no one would dare to disturb them. Led him in and shut the door and locked it from the inside just to be certain. Took him through the dark, cold room with its covers on the furniture and across to the bedroom.
Which was, as he had asked Gibil to ensure, awash in a blaze of firelight.
It was a piece of romantic nonsense but he indulged himself just once. He knew that Luka had done it for him, and while the practical side of him had wondered about setting fire to the Lady's palace with all the hearth fire and candles, the soft core of him was enchanted.
The Goblin King said nothing, even though he looked around with something like amusement mixed with approval. "A year ago," he commented, "I would have imagined you to treat even this as just another task to be completed. I imagine you would have waited until everyone was in bed, would have approached your lover and said the right thing, and then would have taken him to your bed. Now… look at this."
Toby looked and felt a little embarrassed at being analysed so much. He was prepared to do things, but he didn't want them commented on. Appreciated, yes, but not commented on. He moved up and tilted the pointed chin up to sweep a long look over 'his lover's' face. And then, when he had meticulously memorized every flaw and perfection, he kissed him. Thoroughly. Even if it were not rushed or passionate. Not yet. He kissed him slowly, savouring the way Jareth's mouth and tongue moved in practised harmony with his. Kissed him to feel the way they blindly angled their heads without needing to experiment.
They eventually broke for air.
The barest bloom of pink had seeped into Jareth's face, staining his lips and his cheeks and the skin where Toby's stubble had scraped against his face. The mortal wondered if he should have shaved first. But Jareth didn't seem to care. Indeed, he looked avidly interested at the rare experience, lifting a soft hand to feel the burr against his fingertips.
Soft fingertips. Hard fingers. Just skin on bone. Slipping across his cheek and into his hair and then down his neck to feel the difference in texture. Dexterously beginning to undo buttons, fumbling a little and squinting in the nearness and shifting light. Belatedly realizing that Toby's shirt was still tucked into his trousers and muttering something in frustration as he pulled the tail out and then continued to undo a few more buttons.
Toby let him. He didn't want to make the evening anything other than it was. And it could go so many ways! All ways, however, would lead to the next morning and an end to these pleasant meetings. So he placed the barest tips of his thick fingers just under Jareth's strong chin and raised his face again, taking him into another long kiss. This one was more passionate. The shirt came off while they were about that.
Jareth was a little stunned to feel the tip of a sharp knife ghost down his back. He stiffened and drew his mouth away with a gasp, blinking to clear his gaze as he looked up in warring uncertainty and anger.
"Trust me?" Toby asked casually.
"Should I?"
"Your choice."
Jareth shrugged and held still. "I trust everyone. Trust does not refer to blindness. I do not think you will use that knife on me, if you are asking."
The mortal just grinned a devil's knowing grin, learned from the male standing in the circle of his arms, and his hands slashed.
The shirt came off easily but Jareth just shook his head ruefully. "Dramatics," he said severely, "Far too many dramatics. And you have ruined my shirt. What am I to wear out of here?"
"Perhaps I should use the knife on the rest of your clothing," Toby mused, actually letting the knife run carefully over a curve, hands following to squeeze possessively. "It seems a shame to keep this hidden."
"Yes, well, the Underground is not that enlightened." The knife wentto far too intimate a place and Jareth yelped and jerked, pushing into Toby to escape it. "Put that knife down!"
Toby laughed and dropped it to the floor, kicking it away so that it clattered under the bed. He pulled his lover in the same direction and sat down on the edge.
As usual, undressing was not always about an elegant striptease. They undressed casually enough, pulling off boots and breeches and everything else. As a last thought, Jareth did the unthinkable- he took off his medallion as well and placed it on the nightstand. He said nothing about it, and Toby knew better than to ask. It was a telling gesture, however. Without his powerstone to act as a catalyst to draw the chaos magic, Jareth's magical abilities were very small and easily drained. Toby was bigger than him, stronger than him, and in a show of physical strength he had the better of him. Jareth was not completely at his mercy, but it was close enough to make the mortal realize that Jareth was letting the night be a special one.
He drew him close between his knees and looked up at him. Looked up until Jareth leaned down and cupped his face in his hands and brushed butterfly-gentle kisses across his mouth. Toby used the moment o trace blunt nails up the arched back, barely letting them skim flesh. Tickling, more than scratching. And he struck gold. Jareth wriggled. Toby did it again and got the same response, laughing quietly at Jareth's expense, even though he knew the Goblin King was only allowing his body to respond in such a manner. But he repeated it until Jareth pulled away and climbed into the bed, lying down in a mock huff.
He had, however, lain down on his side, looking up from below his seemingly dropped lashes to watch Toby creep up beside him and watch him. A heavy hand landing on his shoulder, then rising to cup his jaw, and then sliding into his hair.
"You really are beautiful," Toby said aloud.
That rang alarm bells very clearly in Jareth's mind and he gave up the pretence at coyness to frown slightly. "I have told you…"
"I know, I know. But beauty is not perfection. It is not in the eye of the beholder either, I can promise you that. And you are imperfect. I know that. But imperfections only makes you more real, more tangible. Not some carved statue standing in a marble hall, but alive. Am I making any sense?"
Jareth was having just a little trouble breathing. He had set out at the start of this year to teach the mortal how to be more open to his instincts and his follies. He had set out to teach him the vulgarities of life, to show him the sensuality present in every little gesture. It was unfair that his lessons, so well taught, should now be used against him. He shut his eyes again and let his body go limp, allowing the moment to carry him away.
"Turn on your stomach for me," Toby said quietly.
Jareth didn't argue; he simply followed through with it. The illusion of submission, of softness, remained just that- an illusion. Toby had seen him at his worst and he knew what the Goblin King was capable of. The magic in those delicate hands could bring down the Castle on top of them.
The only thought humming through the air was the thought that this was the end. The Last Night. The educating might continue, but it would be the last time that they met in this way.
Toby rubbed the skin on the fae's back, easing out the knotted tension and sensitizing the skin. "Why did you agree?" he asked, "To the Lady's request?"
"It was the right thing to do." Jareth's voice was muffled. "You are my mother's child as surely as I am."
"Brothers, then."
"Brothers."
"Like Dieter?"
"Hopefully nothing like that fool. But yes, brothers."
The mortal leaned down, brushing his mouth against Jareth's ear. "Not for tonight, however. Not now."
Jareth nodded and looked around. A quick kiss, straining the cords in his neck as he pressed closer to enjoy it, and he lay back down on his stomach and closed his eyes. His legs were nudged apart and he allowed it. They were angled on the bed as if to bring him to a kneeling position and that confused him a little but he allowed that too. And then thick, long fingers pressed in, releasing a moan from his throat.
Toby wasn't trying to be a tease. He didn't spend long moments caressing rapidly heating skin or velvet flesh. He wanted something in particular, something precise. And Jareth needed to reach a certain point in a certain way before he could accomplice it. But every wanton sound proclaimed the fae was closer, every wanton toss of that blond head said the fae was almost there. "Ready?"
"Yesss…" hissed out, more of a statement than an answer to anything.
"Jareth, stay with me. Don't let go just yet." Toby knelt back and sidled closer, adjusting Jareth's hips in his lap.
Jareth shifted his head on the pillow and arched just a little, only settling himself back down when a hand landed squarely on his back and forced the issue. "Spoilsport," was his grumble.
And there it was. Toby laughed. He couldn't help himself. In less than two seconds, Jareth's fluid voice had shifted from helplessly aroused to perfectly modulated. Who the hell else could be so- so… at peace with his needs? "Relax," he urged, "I think you will like this one." He entered him very slowly; making sure his lover felt every aborted movement, felt every centimetre as it disappeared into him. He wanted him at that level of awareness. "Are you alright?"
"I swallowed my tongue."
"Pity," Toby commented, laughing again, "I am in no position to suck it back out."
"For pity's sake, hurry up! Get on with it!"
"I never knew you to be so demanding."
"Only when my needs are not met," Jareth quipped, "Are you moving or shall I?"
"You would find it very hard," Toby replied serenely, "You see, in this position, we neither of us can move properly. Actually, I'm supposed to say that when I finally get you the way I want you. Right now I can still move. But you can't."
Jareth seemed strangely silent for a long moment and then the slender hips pulled away and pushed back. Toby suddenly understood what Jareth meant about swallowing his tongue; his own was thick and sticking to the roof of his dry mouth. He shook his head and dug his fingers into Jareth's hips, the pain stopping that agonizing rocking motion before it became too much.
"What now?" Jareth was getting very impatient. It hurt and his body was trying to reject the intruder. It always did before the pleasure came. The sooner someone started moving the better.
In answer, Toby leaned forward, pushed with one hand on the small of his back and used the other to pull gently on his shoulder. The Goblin King sat up very, very slowly, whimpering once in shock as the hands refused to let him quicken the pace. The only time he was allowed to stop that relentless adjustment was when his back finally met a warm, lightly haired chest.
"Like it?"
He tried to say something and couldn't remember what it was and whether he had succeeded.
"Don't keep your feet under you, Jareth. Just kneel over me." He forced the issue and then growled in satisfaction. "Fine. Now… do you like it?"
"Let me move," Jareth pleaded.
Ever the dramatic, Toby noted. "Try moving," he advised.
Jareth sighed with relief and used the muscles in his tensed thighs to pull himself off as far as he was able and then dropped himself back down. A jolt of sticky sweetness swamped him and he was gone, sinking into the flood as his body assumed a mind of its own and left him to flounder in its wake.
Toby wasted no time in wrapping his right arm around Jareth's abdomen. "Does it feel good?"
Jareth nodded quickly and shuddered. "More."
"Not yet." The other arm came up on the Goblin King's left side and looped over his chest, gripping at his right shoulder in a tight clench.
Jareth cried out and struggled for a minute, breaking his rhythm in frustration with his new restrictions. He couldn't move enough. The distance he could go was only enough to whet his appetite. But the arms only pressed tighter and pulled him closer; forcing him to take only the pleasure he was given. The more he struggled, the more he was aware of the warmth behind him, of the fine hairs that rubbed against his shoulder blades like a million tiny little hands. His back was sensitive at the best of times, but after Toby's ministrations…
"Wonderful, isn't it?"
"Where did you think this up?" Jareth gasped, not sure if he should be angry or awe-struck, "Bloody torture, this is!"
"But a nice one. Do you like it?"
This time the laugh broke on a sob halfway through. "Does it feel as if I want to get away?"
"I'm not sure. Tell me what you do feel and I might understand."
"Shut up and fuck me, brat."
Toby chuckled and licked a reddening ear. Knowing that Jareth was squirming on top of him and guessing the reason, Toby eased his knees apart, knowing full well that Jareth's legs would be forced to part as well.
"Bastard," Jareth accused, "You're doing this deliberately."
"Of course," Toby admitted frankly, "I mean to keep this memory for the rest of my life. And the view from here is not going to be forgotten for a while, I promise you."
Jareth got his revenge again and again and again… until even Toby was beginning to drown.
It didn't last very long from there. Jareth threw his hands up and back, clasping them behind Toby's head as he laid his own head back on the mortal's broad shoulder. He was moulded to the young man and for the first time in a long time it was more than just the eventual orgasm. He was close, so close. He didn't even need the hand that slipped down from his abdomen to caress so hard. But the hand had done so and since his ability to do anything more than cry out and stutter unintelligently had left him, he had to content himself with screwing his eyes shut over the intense pleasure and whipping his head from side to side, trying so hard to escape it even though his body screamed for more.
Toby wasn't that far behind. Jareth's body was a delight at the best of times, but at the current moment he was so agonizingly hot to the touch and so pliable that he cascaded rather than moved. Quickly, feeling the last dregs of control snap, Toby pushed himself upright on his knees, taking Jareth with him.
The Goblin King whined, his body stretched to its limits. Toby's arm kept him upright and off balance. His own arms kept him reaching upwards and back. He was off-balance, completely at Toby's mercy and helplessly restricted by Toby's body. It was this final feeling of complete dependence that made him groan harshly as he fell backwards against his lover, entire body spasming as the lightening threaded through his muscles.
Toby followed suit and lost his head for the few seconds it took for his body to bury itself deep into the fae. He sucked hard on a white stretch of skin as he collapsed back on his heels. Jareth just draped bonelessly backwards against him, silent and breathless.
"Jareth?"
A barely audible croak might or might not have been heard at this point.
"Are you alright?"
A slow nod on his shoulder and then a blond head shifted restlessly, turning slightly to fit better into the angle between neck and shoulder. "Fine." It was so soft, so vulnerable.
Toby eased away and got them both lying down, cradling Jareth as close as was humanly possible. It had worked. Toby was satisfied. He filed it away in his memory for all those times he would wonder about maybes. Jareth, however… the mortal fretted over what Jareth would do now. It wasn't as if something like this would never have happened before. But with someone that had grown so close? Because Toby did dare to think they had grown close. Would Jareth pretend it had never happened? Or would he simply become cold and distant, pulling away now that he had shown too much?
"You're thinking," Jareth rumbled.
"I was wondering about tomorrow," Toby sighed.
Stiffening, the slender body pulled away to the other side of the bed. "We follow through with the way we have planned things. Why?"
"I just wonder."
"It will not hurt, you know."
"I know. Did- did you like it?"
Long fingers ghosted over his face and then Jareth leaned over him to drop a last, quick kiss on Toby's mouth. "It was beautiful."
