"We shouldn’t—"

"Shh." Galad stepped forward and laid one finger on Rand’s lips, silencing him. "I know it’s dangerous. But I had to see you again like this, hold you..." His arms went around Rand’s waist, pulling him closer. Rand stiffened for a moment, then relaxed in his embrace, letting his head rest against Galad’s shoulder. His head might have been screaming warnings of discovery, but his heart told him this was too right to be wrong. He’d never felt more at peace than he did when Galad held him close.

Elayne, Min, and Aviendha were all close, so close he could feel their exact movements through the bond, had he not been carefully maintaining the barrier that prevented them from knowing exactly what he was feeling. Once more he silently thanked Alanna for sharing the trick with him... true, she hadn’t parted with it willingly—he’d had to force the secret out of her—but it had come in handy more times than he could have imagined. Times like these: stolen moments with his forbidden love. Times when he stood by Elayne’s side, with Galad close enough to touch, and he was unable to touch him, unable to love him. He’d had to keep them from knowing. He loved them more than life itself, but he couldn’t let them know. They wouldn’t understand. The Light help him, even he didn’t understand. ’Maybe some things in life aren’t meant to be understood, just experienced.’

Now he let his own arms wrap around Galad’s waist, tilting his head and brushing his lips against Galad’s. "I know." And he did.

Galad’s mouth pressed against his, hungry, passionate, but not demanding. Galad never demanded anything of him. His own lips parted, allowing Galad’s tongue to invade, caressing his mouth, sparring with his own tongue. Rand shivered again, this time with delight. One hand moved to the back of Galad’s head, tangled in his silken black hair. Rested against his satin skin. He stretched, back arching, body pressed firmly against Galad. This was his Light. This was all he fought for. Everything he’d ever wanted in life could be found within Galad’s embrace.

His brother’s embrace. His lover’s embrace.

It was Galad who broke the kiss, reluctantly lifting his mouth away. He was breathing hard, and his lips were wet and swollen. Inspired, Rand took his lower lip gently between his teeth and nibbled. Galad groaned, and Rand gave Galad’s lower lip an apologetic lick.

"Don’t tease me like that," Galad pleaded. "I want you so much." Indeed, Rand could feel how much Galad wanted him, that need pressing against him through the fine wool of Galad’s breaches. Rand closed his eyes and ground his groin against Galad’s, a soft sigh of content escaping his lips.

Galad tossed his head and cried out softly, eyes wide open and lips parted. The lovely visage made Rand’s heart—and other, lower places—clench with longing. ‘So beautiful, so wonderful—and he can never be mine.’

But Galad knew, in that mystical way he had of knowing Rand’s heart like no other could. "I’m yours in every way that counts. And you’re mine."

Rand pulled away from Galad, feeling a coldness blanket his heart as his face hardened. "Even when you have to share me?"

Long, tapered fingers lightly traced his jawbone, causing his mouth to tremble. "Don’t beat yourself up over it, Rand," Galad whispered, not for the first time. Patient, loving. Eyes like black velvet caught him up, warming him, embracing him. Loving him. His whole body was trembling. Galad stepped forward and embraced him, lips brushing his ear, murmuring soft, tender nothings to him.

He melted against Galad, his body going limp in his brother’s arms. "Oh Galad..."

He could feel Galad’s affection for him, golden threads of love through the bond they shared. The Warder bond.

They slid to the floor, neither of them speaking. They needed no words between them. Rand’s fingers moved swiftly, divesting Galad of his coat. Galad shook free of the cumbersome garment, tossed it aside, not caring whether it—or they—would get filthy on the layer of dust coating the forgotten storage room’s floor. He wore little beneath, only his shirtsleeves. Smiling impishly, Rand pinched and tugged at Galad’s left nipple through the shirt until it hardened under his ministrations. Galad shivered, then raked his fingernails across Rand’s own nipples, which, covered by only a thin shirt, had long since hardened.

He gasped and tossed back his head, feeling the heat in his loins spread throughout his entire body. With a half-growl, Galad put his hands on Rand’s shoulders and pushed him down onto his back, then nipped at his chin impatiently till Rand obligingly tilted his head to give Galad easy access to his neck. He yelped with pleasure as Galad bit down, then sucked urgently at his flesh. "Don’t leave any marks!" His protest came out breathless and weak, but Galad laved the bite mark gently (it would leave a bruise for sure, but Rand secretly loved carrying the marks of their passion on his body—just not in places where his other lovers might notice) then obediently gave up on his neck for the moment and pressed his lips against Rand’s, tongue invading his mouth in the ancient imitation of the act of penetration.

Rand whimpered with need low in his throat, responding to Galad’s kiss with a passion surpassing any he’d felt with another, and a skill not his own. Rand didn’t care where the skill came from, as long as it pleased Galad. It was Galad who broke the kiss again, with a regretful groan. "You’re right. We can’t do this here."

Rand was far past caring whether or not they were caught in the act. "I need you, Galad." He grabbed a fistful of Galad’s hair, tried to pull Galad’s mouth back to his own.

Galad grabbed his wrist, gently but firmly. "I know, Rand," he whispered. "But we can’t. We can’t."

Far from being thwarted, Rand pushed himself up, catching Galad’s lips with an aggressive, if brief, kiss. "Love you. Need you. Want you."

Galad moaned helplessly, melting into the kiss. "Rand—"

"Loveyouneedyouwantyouloveyouneedyouwantyou." The litany went on as Rand undid Galad’s belt and slid his hands into his lover’s breeches, taking his firm member in hand and stroking it roughly.

"RAND!"

His strangled cry seemed to fill the storage chamber, bounce of the dust covered furniture and chests. Rand trembled with lust and love and a hundred other feelings that pounded through his blood. His hands worked faster, harder. He wanted to bring Galad release.

It didn’t take long. With a final, lingering shout Galad came into Rand’s hands, then collapsed trembling atop him. Rand pulled his hands back, now sticky with Galad’s seed. He brought one hand close to his face, examining the fluid lovingly. Galad’s breath was hot on his cheek, flushed face pressed against Rand’s, his forehead resting on the cool, grimy floor. "Oh Galad..."

"Shh." Galad placed his hands on either side of Rand and lifted himself up to look his lover in the face. Rand’s eyes were soft, dreamy, as whimsical and warm as the summer sky. Galad planted a gently kiss on his lips. "Do you think we were heard?"

"The dead couldn’t have failed to notice," Rand observed with amusement, "but the walls are thick, and I doubt anyone was close by."

"Good." Galad pushed himself back till his head was level with Rand’s waist. He fumbled with the belt (the dragon buckle always caused a pang, a constant reminder that he wasn’t the only one Rand loved), then pulled down Rand’s breeches enough to expose his erection. Ignoring Rand’s gasp, he took the length of it into his mouth.

Rand arched his back, crying out with surprise and pleasure as Galad began to suck at his hardness. This was something he loved, but never could bring himself to request Aviendha, Min or Elayne to do. It seemed dirty with them, but with Galad… everything was right with Galad. It didn’t seem wrong for Galad to put his mouth around Rand’s erection, or for Rand to spill his seed into Galad’s mouth.

As always when he came like that, Galad didn’t pull away, but swallowed it, his throat working to prolong Rand’s pleasure for infinite seconds as he hung in that state between ecstasy and exhaustion. Then it was over, and Galad stood, wiping his mouth on his sleeve, semen still dripping from the corner of his mouth. He knelt beside Rand for a gently kiss. Rand licked away the semen, enjoying the bitter, salty taste of himself in Galad’s mouth.

Galad was stroking his hair gently. "When can we get away, darling?"

"I don’t know." Rand sighed gustily. "Don’t leave yet. This may be the last time we can be together like this for awhile."

Nodding, Galad lay down beside him, pulling Rand into his arms. The arms of his Warder. The most comfortable place in the world.