Till the stars don’t shine…

The events of the night had taken their toll on him, how could they not? Randal was dead. It had been horrific and he truly wished it otherwise, yet all he could think was thank god that it was Randal, that it wasn’t Ripper, or even himself. The truth was that he’d been scared, terrified even, and it took rather a lot to scare him.  He’d seen some pretty horrific things in his life, and participated in more than a few, but tonight, watching Randal die the way he had and picturing his lover’s face superimposed over the other man’s had shaken him to the very core of his being. Ethan hoped tonight’s proceedings were enough for Rupert to realise the danger. If not he’d talk to him, find a way to make his love see that it was enough, that it was time to stop before something worse happened.

He couldn’t imagine what he would do if something happened to Rupert, could no longer imagine life without him. Whatever the future may bring one thing Ethan knew for certain was that it would include Rupert. Maybe they could move; get out of London and away from the circle of people they moved within and away from the temptations of the darkest of magics that Giles had been delving farther and farther into in recent months?

His eyes slowly closed and he allowed himself to relax back against his lover’s warmth. They’d made love tonight, nothing unusual about that, what was unusual was the tone of their lovemaking; with none of the almost-primal exuberance, playfulness or even the fierce possessiveness that often featured in their encounters. Tonight had been about the reaffirmation of life; gentle touches, the slow sensual slide of skin against skin, deep, unhurried kisses that all but broke the heart as they each reassured themselves through touch and taste of the others continued existence. He would say that, were it at all possible, he had fallen more deeply in love with Ripper tonight than he had been previously.

With a sigh he allowed sleep to claim him; tomorrow he would talk to Ripper, convince him to move away somewhere quiet would be nice—for a while anyway. It didn’t matter where, not really, what mattered was that they had tomorrow, and the tomorrow after that and many many more to come. They were alive, they had survived and they had each other; anything beyond that was just icing.