Triton's Destiny

Part Forty-Seven

"Ugh..." Tristan closed the door and slumped against it, rubbing at his temples to banish the burgeoning ache in his head. He leaned there with his eyes closed for a minute, savoring the quiet coziness of home. Gods, he hated working in the warehouse. It was cold and drafty, dusty and dark. He felt like he needed a bath to dissolve the layer of grime from his skin and his nose wouldn't stop running from all the dust he'd inhaled over the course of the last few days. But at least he couldn't complain about the place being a disorganized hellscape of clutter anymore. He'd made it his mission to sort that shitstorm out and now archiving and retrieving pieces would be a much less onerous task.

He felt more than heard the comforting presence of his mate as he came over to welcome him home, Maki's warm hands sliding up Tristan's chest and anchoring behind his neck. "Rough day?" Maki stepped between Tristan's legs and leaned in to kiss him, the soft slide of their lips quickly deepening as Maki angled his head and slipped his tongue into Tristan's mouth.

"Mmm..." Tristan dropped his hands to grip Maki by the hips, pulling him closer and sucking on the possessive tongue claiming him. He could feel that they were both getting hard and he rolled his hips into Maki's, sliding his cock alongside his partner's. Groaning low in his throat, he suddenly hoped that Maki had made something for dinner that would keep for a while because he was hungry for something entirely different at the moment.

Maki cupped Tristan's jaw with both hands and continued plundering his mouth, rutting against him as the panted puffs of his breath made Tristan's heated cheeks even warmer. Soft little whines and whimpers sounded in the back of his throat and the heady thrill of anticipation made Tristan's blood sing as he realized they were going to end up in bed sooner rather than later. He didn't mind postponing one of Maki's delectable meals if it meant he got to take his lover apart, piece by irresistible piece.

Sliding his hands up, he intended to begin removing Maki's clothing immediately. But when the callused roughness of his palms rasped over fine, smooth silk, his brow furrowed and he opened his eyes, pulling back with a confused frown. "What...?"

Maki stood with a deep flush on his cheeks, panting hard and running restless hands through his short hair. He was dressed in soft black breeches and shiny black boots reaching to his knees, with a white shirt under the beautiful silk vest Tristan had bought for him in Vollendale. He looked gorgeous. And far too dressed up to be spending a lazy night at home.

With a jolt of sudden guilt, Tristan released Maki entirely and stepped away from him, casting a horrified look down at his grungy workwear. "Oh my gods... I've ruined you!"

Maki's cheeks were still deeply colored but his gaze took on the bright sparkle of mirth as he touched his fingertips to his grinning lips and laughed. "Oh yes. Yes, completely. You've ruined me forever, Mr. MacHale."

"No, no." Tristan cast an exasperated glance to the ceiling. "I mean I got all this..." He swept his hand over his body. "...grossness on your beautiful clothes. Why did you let me do that?"

Maki laughed again. "Because I don't care. I'd rather kiss you than keep my clothes pristine. Besides..." He looked down at himself. "You didn't get anything on me."

"But you look so good." Tristan let his gaze take an appreciative journey over his mate's perfect body. "Gods, so good..." He huffed a breath, trying to will away his insistent erection. "Why are you dressed up, exactly?"

"I'm taking you to dinner tonight."

"Maki..."

"No, sir." Maki shook his head, completely brushing off Tristan's protest. "You've worked very hard this week and I want to do something nice for you." He grabbed Tristan's hand and led him to the bedroom. "Come on. We have to be there by eight. I expected you'd want to clean up, so I prepared a bath for you. But you don't have time to lounge. I also picked out something nice for you to wear." He gestured to an outfit hanging on the outside of the closet door.