“Really?”
“Yes. Exactly.” Edwin sounded cross. Robin pulled him in gently, leaned in himself. He watched the line of Edwin’s mouth, then brushed over it with his own lips, wanting to savour the moment when Edwin’s tension melted into eagerness. He slid his other hand around Edwin’s back, greedy for the expanse of bare skin. Edwin had his hands between them, unbuttoning Robin’s shirt, the softness of his mouth surrendering fraction by fraction by fraction.
As ever, there was no warning before the pain started.
“Bloody fucking hell,” Robin managed just before agony closed his throat on speech. He jerked himself away. He saw Edwin’s face, kiss-smudged mouth and naked surprise, and then crumpled to the floor as his vision greyed out and the curse took over.
What scared him the most was that when he opened his eyes again, he had no idea how long it had been. He’d actually blacked out this time. And how long since the last attack, which had overlapped with the foresight? Hours only.
“Robin.” Edwin was crouched by his side, paused halfway through a cradle.
“Ow.” Robin squeezed his eyes against tears, satisfied himself they weren’t about to spill down, and pushed himself to sit upright against the side of the bed.
Edwin lowered the string. His face was white and taut. “It’s lasting longer,” he said. “Isn’t it? I thought you might not come back from it this time.”
Robin swallowed half of his own fear in the need to reduce Edwin’s. He could at least do something for Edwin’s obvious anger at his own futility.
“Do you have anything cool?” he asked, nodding at his arm. “It’s—still feeling hot.” Another new, alarming sign. For the first time it felt as though the cage of glowing wires had burned so hot and so long that it needed time to return to normal.
Edwin nodded and created the opening loops of a spell. He cradled a swirl of subtle mist and smeared it over Robin’s arm. It was like the relief of turning one’s pillow over on a hot night.
“Thank you.”
“I hate this,” Edwin said. “I hate that this is what magic is to you. What it’s done to you.” He was winding his string in absent, fretful motions around one thumb; he sounded irritable, almost wistful. “It’s not supposed to be bad. It really is—something marvellous.”
The mist was gone, but the cool swirl of it was still sinking into Robin’s arm. He could have tried to tell Edwin how lovely that spell had been, how soothing, but instead he reached out and took one of Edwin’s hands, gentling his thumb over the back of it as he drew it towards his mouth. Edwin didn’t resist; his breath caught, distinct in the silence, and it was enough to bring Robin’s arousal sweeping back over the horizon from where the pain had banished it. He found a holly-scratch over one of Edwin’s knuckles and traced it with his lips, then his tongue.
Edwin took his hand back. His eyes were hot, the furrow of his brow more thoughtful than fearful. He darted a look down Robin’s body and up again.
“I have an idea,” he said. “Will you trust me?”
“Of course,” said Robin.
“It’ll be easier if you take your clothes off.”
Robin could no more have resisted that suggestion than if he’d been magically compelled. He took his clothes off and lay down, and Edwin sat on the edge of the bed beside him.
“This is experimental. I’ve only ever done it on myself,” Edwin said, and Robin could hear him talking himself out of it, so he grabbed Edwin and pulled him down for another kiss to distract him.
It worked rather too well. Robin emerged gasping, nearly having lost his own concentration to Edwin’s skin sliding hotly against his, the taste of Edwin’s tongue, the way Edwin panted when Robin tightened his grip in the silky-fine fairness of Edwin’s hair.
“Whatever it is, I want you to do it.” He smiled and nipped at Edwin’s lower lip with his teeth. “I’ll try anything once.”
“How completely unsurprising,” Edwin murmured. “No, you need to understand this before you agree to it.”
“All right,” Robin said, flopping back defeated into the pillow. “Tell me.”
Edwin explained that his spell had been built to target the ends of nerves, and the signal of it would travel down those nerves just as normal sensation would. Except . . . magic. It all sounded like a lot of unnecessary bother to Robin, given Edwin could just have touched him and probably had the same effect, but Edwin looked animated and interested and like he’d forgotten about Robin’s stupid bloody curse, so Robin was happy to go along with it.