Witch’s Promise (Shadowguards #3.5)

19. Sean

Chapter 19

Sean

H is eyes cracked open, sunlight streaming through the gaps in his curtains. For a moment, he lay there, disoriented. The absence of his usual post-fight aches and the lingering dread of another day in hiding threw him.

Surprisingly, Sean felt lighter. Like a weight he'd been carrying for decades had finally been lifted. He couldn't remember the last time he'd woken up feeling anything close to hopeful.

As he went through his morning routine – shower, shave, strong coffee that could probably strip paint – Sean's mind kept drifting back to Gabe. To the hurt in his eyes when Sean had revealed his magic, yes, but also to the understanding. The forgiveness Sean wasn't sure he deserved.

Gabe had wanted him to stay at the coven house last night, but Sean had declined. He needed time to process, to come to terms with the monumental shift in his life. And if he was being honest with himself (a novel concept, that), he was scared. Terrified of fucking up this fragile new thing between them before it had a chance to really begin.

The knock on his front door came as Sean was contemplating a second cup of coffee. He froze, instantly on alert. Old habits died hard, and Sean found himself reaching for a weapon that wasn't there as he approached the door.

He peered through the peephole and felt his heart skip a beat. Gabe stood on the other side, looking like he'd just stepped off a runway. The trench coat he wore accentuated his broad shoulders, and the fitted button-up and jeans beneath it, well, Sean had to remind himself to breathe.

Shaking off his surprise, Sean opened the door. Gabe's smile, warm and slightly nervous, hit him like a punch to the gut.

"Well," Gabe said, a teasing lilt to his voice, "are you going to let me in, or should I leave?"

Sean realized he'd been staring, mouth slightly agape. Smooth, Drake. Real smooth. "Shit, sorry. Come in, come in."

As Gabe stepped inside, Sean became acutely aware of the state of his apartment. It wasn't a dump by any means, but it was spartans – functional rather than homey. He watched nervously as Gabe's eyes roamed the space, taking in the bare walls and minimal furniture.

"It's, uh, not much," Sean said, unable to keep the defensiveness from his voice. "I know it's not exactly-"

"It's cozy," Gabe cut him off, his tone gentle. "I like it. Very you."

Sean blinked, thrown by the simple acceptance. "Thanks. I guess." He cleared his throat, desperate to change the subject. "How did you even find me? I'm not exactly listed in the yellow pages."

Gabe's laugh, rich and warm, sent a shiver down Sean's spine. "Please. I work for a secret supernatural law enforcement agency, remember? Finding one ex-assassin's address is child's play."

There was a confidence to Gabe now, a self-assuredness that both attracted and intimidated Sean. This wasn't the same boy he'd left behind all those years ago. This Gabe knew exactly who he was and what he wanted. Sean wasn't sure how to handle that yet.

"Right, of course," Sean muttered, running a hand through his hair. "Uh, did you want coffee or something? I was just about to make another pot."

"Coffee sounds great," Gabe said, following Sean into the small kitchen. "But maybe save it for later. I've actually got plans for us today."

Sean paused in the act of reaching for the coffee pot. "Plans? Shouldn't you be, I don't know, investigating Riley or something?"

Gabe leaned against the counter, close enough that Sean could smell his cologne – a spicy, woodsy scent that made his head spin. "Technically, I'm still on leave. Lucas practically shoved me out the door this morning, said they'd handle things for now and that I needed to 'get my head on straight.'" He made air quotes around the last part, rolling his eyes fondly.

The casual mention of Lucas sent an irrational spike of jealousy through Sean. Before he could stop himself, he blurted out, "Are you and Lucas together?"

Gabe's eyebrows shot up, and for a terrifying moment, Sean thought he'd massively overstepped. But then Gabe threw his head back and laughed, the sound filling the small kitchen.

"Me and Lucas?" Gabe managed between chuckles. "Gods, no. He's my best friend, my partner in crime. But we're way too different to be compatible like that."

The relief that flooded through Sean was almost embarrassing in its intensity. "Oh. Good. I mean, not good, but... you know what? I'm just gonna shut up now."

Gabe's expression softened, a hint of something Sean couldn't quite identify flickering in his eyes. "You don't have to be jealous, Sean. There hasn't been anyone serious since... well, since you."

The admission hung between them, heavy with implications. Sean's heart raced, hope and fear warring for dominance. He wanted so badly to believe that they could have a second chance, that he hadn't fucked things up beyond repair. But the ever-present voice of his guilt whispered that he didn't deserve it, that he'd only end up hurting Gabe again.

Gabe must have sensed Sean's inner turmoil because he cleared his throat, changing the subject. "Anyway, finish up whatever you need to do. We've got places to be."

Sean latched onto the distraction gratefully. "Oh yeah? And where exactly are we going?"

Gabe's grin was equal parts mischievous and fond. "I'm taking you on a date. Like the good old days."

Sean's breath caught in his throat. A date. With Gabe. It felt surreal, like something out of a dream he'd given up on long ago. "I... are you sure? I mean, with everything that's going on..."

"I'm sure," Gabe said firmly. "Look, I know we've got a lot to work through. A lot of hurt and misunderstandings to deal with. But I meant what I said last night, Sean. I want to try. To see if we can build something new.”

Sean's stomach growled audibly as they pulled into the parking lot of a familiar restaurant. He blinked in surprise, realizing he hadn't even noticed how much time had passed. The ride over had been a blur of nervous energy and stolen glances at Gabe's profile.

"Hungry?" Gabe asked, a teasing lilt to his voice as he cut the engine.

Sean felt his cheeks heat. "Guess I forgot to eat breakfast. Too busy freaking out about, you know, everything."

Gabe's expression softened, concern replacing amusement. "How are you feeling, really? About all of this?"

The question hung in the air between them, heavy with implications. Sean swallowed hard, forcing himself to meet Gabe's gaze. "Honestly? I'm fucking terrified. Part of me is waiting for you to come to your senses and realize what a massive mistake you're making by giving me a second chance."

He half-expected Gabe to pull away. Instead, Gabe reached across the center console, taking Sean's hand in his own. The warmth of his skin, the gentle pressure of his fingers, sent a jolt through Sean's system.

"Hey," Gabe said softly, his thumb tracing soothing circles on Sean's palm. "Let's not worry about the future, okay? The only thing we need to focus on right now is what's happening in this moment. We're here, we're trying. That's what matters."

Before Sean could formulate a response, Gabe lifted their joined hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to Sean's knuckles. The simple gesture sent a wave of heat coursing through Sean's body, settling low in his gut. He shifted in his seat, suddenly very aware of how tight his jeans had become.

Gabe's eyes sparkled with mischief as he noticed Sean's predicament. "Well, well," he murmured, voice low and teasing. "Good to know I still have that effect on you."

Sean groaned, equal parts embarrassed and aroused. "Fuck off," he muttered, but there was no heat behind the words. "You got better looking with age. It's not fair."

Gabe's laugh, rich and warm, filled the car. "Come on, let's get some food in you before you pass out from hunger. Or other, more interesting reasons."

As they made their way into the restaurant, Sean couldn't help but marvel at the familiar facade. "Holy shit, is this-"

"Bella Notte?" Gabe finished for him, a proud grin spreading across his face. "The very same. I can't believe it's still here after all these years."

Memories flooded Sean's mind – two broke teenagers pressing their noses against the glass, dreaming of the day they could afford to eat at the fanciest Italian place in Salem. It had become a running joke between them, a shorthand for all their hopes and dreams for the future.

"How did you even get a reservation?" Sean asked as they were led to a table by the window. "This place used to be booked solid for months."

Gabe's grin turned sheepish. "I may have called in a favor or two. Being a Shadowguard has its perks sometimes."

As they settled into their seats, the rich aroma of garlic and herbs enveloping them, Sean felt a curious mix of nostalgia and anxiety swirling in his gut. This was all so familiar, yet completely new. He had no idea how to navigate this new dynamic between them.

"So," Sean said, desperate to fill the silence as they perused their menus. "Did you ever learn how to cook? I remember you used to burn water back in the day."

Gabe laughed, the sound warming Sean from the inside out. "I'll have you know I've become quite the chef, thank you very much. Though I don't get to do it as often as I'd like these days. The job keeps me pretty busy."

"About that," Sean said carefully. "What exactly do you do? I mean, I know you said Shadowguard, but what does that entail?"

Gabe's expression turned thoughtful as he considered how to explain. "We're basically supernatural law enforcement," he said finally. "There's a whole hidden world out there – magic users, creatures from folklore, things that go bump in the night. Most of the time, they coexist peacefully with the 'normal' world. But sometimes... sometimes things get messy. That's where we come in."

Sean listened, fascinated, as Gabe described some of the cases he'd worked on over the years. Rogue witches causing havoc in New York City, a werewolf pack dispute that nearly exposed the supernatural world to the general public, a particularly tricky situation involving a group of pixies and the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

"Jesus," Sean breathed when Gabe finished. "And here I thought my life was complicated. How did you even get into this line of work?"

A shadow passed over Gabe's face, and Sean immediately regretted asking. But Gabe shook it off, offering a small smile. "It's okay," he said, reading Sean's concern. "It's actually kind of a funny story. I got attacked by a group of vampires a few years back – nasty situation, thought I was done for. But then this guy shows up out of nowhere, takes them all down like it's nothing. Turns out it was Alex – my boss now. He said he saw potential in me, offered me a spot on the team he was putting together."

Sean felt a surge of gratitude towards this Alex person, mixed with a twinge of something that might have been jealousy. "Sounds like a good boss," he managed. "I'm glad he was there to save you."

Gabe nodded, his expression warm. "Yeah, he's been like a mentor to me. Helped me figure out how to use my magic for something good, you know?"

The conversation flowed easily after that, years of distance melting away as they caught up on each other's lives. Sean found himself relaxing, the constant tension he'd been carrying for so long easing with each shared laugh and gentle touch.

It wasn't until their entrees arrived that Gabe turned the tables, asking Sean about his own work. Sean tensed, the familiar guilt rising in his throat. But Gabe's open, non-judgmental expression gave him the courage to be honest.

"Remember that night in the alley?" Sean asked, his voice low.

Gabe nodded, confusion clouding his features. "Yeah, of course. What about it?"

Sean took a deep breath, steeling himself. "That was me. I mean, I was the one fighting. There's this underground fight club – magical and non-magical alike. The Elder, he recruited me a few years back. It was a way to make money, yeah, but also..."

He trailed off, unable to articulate the self-destructive impulse that had driven him to the fights. The need to punish himself, to feel something, anything, other than the crushing weight of his guilt.

Gabe's hand found his across the table, squeezing gently. "Hey," he said softly. "You don't have to explain. I get it. We all have our ways of coping."

The simple acceptance in Gabe's voice threatened to undo Sean completely. He blinked hard against the sudden sting of tears, overwhelmed by a gratitude he couldn't begin to express.

"I quit," Sean said, his voice rough. "The day I rescued Jessy. Told the Elder I was done for good."

Gabe's smile was equal parts proud and relieved. "Good. I'm glad. That life it wasn't good for you, Sean. You deserve better than that."

The sincerity in Gabe's voice, the unwavering belief in his eyes, was almost too much for Sean to bear. How could Gabe still see good in him after everything he'd done? How could he offer forgiveness so freely when Sean couldn't even forgive himself?

"I don't know about that," Sean muttered, unable to meet Gabe's gaze. "I've done a lot of shit I'm not proud of, Gabe. Things that can't be undone."

Gabe's grip on his hand tightened. "Hey, look at me."

Sean raised his eyes reluctantly, bracing himself.

"We've all got baggage, Sean," Gabe said firmly. "All of us have done things we regret. What matters is what we do going forward. And from where I'm sitting? You're trying. You're facing your past, owning up to your mistakes. That counts for a hell of a lot in my book."

His cheeks ached from smiling. The day had unfolded like something out of a dream, each moment more surreal than the last. After lunch, Gabe had dragged him to an old arcade they used to frequent as teens, challenging him to a series of increasingly ridiculous dance battles.

"Jesus Christ," Sean had wheezed, doubled over and gasping for breath after a particularly intense round of DDR. "When did you get so fucking good at this?"

Gabe's grin was equal parts smug and playful. "Secret Shadowguard training. You'd be amazed how often saving the world requires sick dance moves."

They'd wandered the boardwalk next, sharing an obscenely large ice cream cone and dodging the occasional recognition from locals who remembered them. Sean couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed so hard his stomach hurt, the sound startling him with its unfamiliarity.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in vibrant streaks of orange and pink, Gabe's hand found Sean's. The warmth of his palm, the gentle squeeze of his fingers, sent a jolt through Sean's system.

"Come on," Gabe said, tugging Sean away from the thinning crowd. "I want to show you something."

Sean allowed himself to be led, curiosity warring with the ever-present voice of doubt in his head. They drove for a while, leaving the lights of Salem behind as they wound through increasingly rural roads. Finally, Gabe pulled off onto a dirt path barely wide enough for the car.

"Gabe, where the hell are we-" Sean's question died in his throat as recognition dawned. "Is this...?"

Gabe's smile was soft in the dim light of the dashboard. "Yep. Our old spot."

The barn loomed before them, a hulking silhouette against the star-studded sky. It looked even more decrepit than Sean remembered, years of neglect evident in its sagging roof and weathered boards. But as they approached, memories flooded back with startling clarity.

Stolen kisses in the hayloft, fumbling explorations of each other's bodies. Late-night conversations about their hopes and dreams, about the future they'd imagined building together. It had been their sanctuary, a place where they could just be Sean and Gabe, free from the expectations of family and coven alike.

"I can't believe it's still standing," Sean murmured as they picked their way through the overgrown field.

Gabe chuckled, the sound warm in the cool night air. "Barely. I'm pretty sure it's more magic than actual structure at this point."

They settled onto a fallen beam near the barn's entrance, shoulders touching as they gazed up at the sky. The silence between them was comfortable, filled with the gentle chirping of crickets and the distant hoot of an owl.

But as the minutes ticked by, Sean felt the familiar weight of guilt and self-doubt pressing down on him. The peace of the moment felt unearned, a happiness he had no right to claim. He'd done too much, seen too much, to ever truly deserve this kind of contentment.

"I'm not a good person, Gabe," Sean said finally, the words escaping before he could stop them. "I've killed people. Hurt people. I don't... I don't know if you really want to be with someone like that."

Gabe was quiet for a long moment, and Sean braced himself for rejection. For Gabe to finally come to his senses and realize what a massive mistake he was making by giving Sean a second chance.

Instead, Gabe's hand found his, fingers intertwining with a gentle squeeze. "You didn't have a choice back then," he said softly. "Your father, the life you were born into... you were a kid, Sean. A kid trying to survive in an impossible situation."

Sean shook his head, unable to accept the absolution Gabe was offering. "That doesn't change what I did. The lives I took, the families I destroyed. How can you even look at me, knowing what I am?"

Gabe's other hand came up to cup Sean's cheek, thumb brushing away tears Sean hadn't even realized had fallen. "I look at you and I see someone who's trying," Gabe said firmly. "Someone who, when given the choice, decided to do the right thing. To face his past and try to make amends. I couldn't be more proud of you for that."

The sincerity in Gabe's voice, the unwavering belief in his eyes, threatened to undo Sean completely. He blinked hard against the fresh sting of tears, overwhelmed by a gratitude he couldn't begin to express.

"I chose to give you a second chance, Sean," Gabe continued, his gaze never wavering. "And I never go back on my promises. Whatever comes next, whatever challenges we face... we face them together. Okay?"

Sean nodded, not trusting himself to speak past the lump in his throat. Gabe's smile was soft, tinged with an affection that made Sean's heart ache. And then, with aching slowness, Gabe leaned in and kissed him.

His hands shook as Gabe’s lips pressed against his. A surge of heat flooded his chest, radiating outward until it reached the tips of his fingers, leaving him dizzy and breathless. For a split second, he froze, mind spiraling back to the chaos of the past—the fights, the blood, the endless guilt that followed him like a fucking shadow. But then Gabe’s warmth anchored him to the present, grounding him in a moment that felt too real and too fragile all at once.

The barn seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them under the wide expanse of stars. The weight of Gabe’s body against his brought Sean back into his own skin, the firm press of his mouth grounding him. He could feel the scratch of Gabe’s stubble, rough and familiar, against his own. A reminder that this wasn’t a dream, that Gabe was here, solid and real, not some figment of his imagination conjured in a moment of weakness.

Gabe deepened the kiss, slow and deliberate, his hands finding their way to Sean’s waist. Sean’s heart pounded in his chest, a wild, erratic rhythm that matched the rush of thoughts in his head. This—this closeness, this intimacy—it felt foreign, like a luxury he didn’t deserve. Especially after everything. The blood on his hands might have been metaphorical now, but it sure as hell felt real enough.

When Gabe pulled back, his eyes searched Sean’s face, concern flickering in them. “You alright?” he asked, his voice soft, like he was afraid to push too hard.

“Yeah,” Sean rasped, though his throat felt tight, constricted with a flood of emotions he didn’t know how to name. “I just… fuck, Gabe, I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Do what?”

“This,” Sean gestured between them, the space where their bodies pressed together. “Be with you. Be this happy. It feels like some sort of cosmic fucking joke, like the universe is gonna pull the rug out from under me any second.”

Gabe’s lips quirked into a half-smile, a bit of that playful smugness creeping back in. “So you’re telling me you’re scared of being happy? That’s what’s tripping you up right now?”

Sean huffed, frustrated but unable to deny it. “Yeah. I am.”

Gabe’s grin softened, his thumb tracing a slow path along Sean’s jawline. “You don’t have to be scared. We’ve got this. I’ve got you.”

Sean wanted to believe him. God, he wanted to believe him so fucking bad. But the darkness in the back of his mind—the constant, gnawing guilt—was hard to shake. It clawed at him, reminding him of all the shit he’d done, the lives he’d wrecked. He wasn’t a good guy. He never had been.

Before he could spiral any further, Gabe kissed him again, harder this time, like he was determined to shatter every doubt, every whisper of guilt in Sean’s head. Sean’s hands moved of their own accord, sliding up Gabe’s back, pulling him closer. Gabe’s body was firm, solid, a grounding presence that Sean clung to like a lifeline.

The kiss deepened, tongues sliding together in a heated dance, their breaths mingling in the cool night air. Sean groaned, the sound ripped from his chest as Gabe’s hands wandered lower, fingers slipping beneath the hem of Sean’s shirt. The touch was electric, sending jolts of heat straight to his cock. Sean felt his pulse race, every nerve in his body buzzing with an anticipation that bordered on desperation.

Gabe’s lips broke away from Sean’s, trailing down his jaw, to his neck, teeth scraping against skin in a way that had Sean biting back a curse. “Jesus fuck, Gabe,” Sean hissed, his fingers tightening in Gabe’s shirt.

“You good?” Gabe murmured against his throat, lips brushing the words into Sean’s skin.

Sean nodded, unable to form any coherent words. His body was on fire, every inch of him alive with sensation. He was hyper-aware of every touch, every shift of Gabe’s body against his, the way their breaths seemed to sync up, shallow and fast.

They moved together in a clumsy, eager rhythm, all hands and heat. Gabe’s fingers worked at the buttons of Sean’s jeans, and Sean’s mind went blank, overwhelmed by the sensation of it all. It wasn’t just the physical need—the aching throb of his cock pressing against the denim—but the intimacy, the way Gabe looked at him like he wasn’t broken, like he wasn’t some fucked-up mess of a person barely holding himself together.

When Gabe finally freed him from his jeans, the cold night air hit his cock, a sharp contrast to the heat radiating off him. Gabe’s hand wrapped around him, and Sean’s breath hitched, the world narrowing to the point where the only thing that mattered was the feel of Gabe’s hand stroking him with slow, measured strokes.

Sean groaned, his head falling back, eyes slipping shut as his hips bucked instinctively into Gabe’s touch. “Fuck,” he gasped, barely able to form the word.

Gabe chuckled low in his throat, his thumb sliding over the head of Sean’s cock, teasing him with light, almost-too-soft pressure. “You like that?” Gabe asked, his voice rough, ragged with his own arousal.

“Yeah,” Sean panted, his body practically vibrating with need.

Gabe’s hands were everywhere at once, stroking, teasing, driving Sean to the edge of madness. He wanted more. He needed more.

“Gabe,” he managed to rasp out, voice thick with desperation. “I need—fuck, I need you.”

Gabe’s eyes darkened, a low growl rumbling in his throat as he yanked his own jeans off, the two of them a mess of tangled limbs and discarded clothing under the starlight. There was no need for words after that. Their bodies moved in sync, a frantic, feverish rhythm that was equal parts raw and tender.

When Gabe finally slid into him, Sean’s entire body tensed, a choked gasp escaping his throat. The stretch, the burn, it was all so much, too much, and yet not enough. He needed more. Always more.

“Fuck,” Sean groaned, his fingers digging into Gabe’s back as he rocked his hips up, urging Gabe to move.

Gabe didn’t need any more encouragement. He set a punishing pace, thrusting into Sean with a relentless rhythm that had Sean’s entire body shuddering with every push and pull. Sean could barely think, could barely breathe, every nerve in his body alight with sensation. He felt like he was coming apart at the seams, unraveling in the best possible way.

Every thrust drove him closer to the edge, and when Gabe reached down to stroke him in time with his thrusts, Sean knew he was done for. The orgasm hit him like a fucking freight train, ripping through him with a force that left him gasping, trembling, his body seizing up with the intensity of it.

Gabe wasn’t far behind, his own release hitting him hard enough that he collapsed onto Sean, their breaths coming in ragged, uneven gasps as they lay tangled together in the aftermath.

For a long while, neither of them spoke, the only sounds filling the air were their heavy breathing and the distant chirping of crickets. Sean’s mind was blissfully blank for the first time in what felt like forever. There was no guilt, no shame, just the warmth of Gabe’s body against his and the soft glow of satisfaction settling in his bones.

Eventually, Gabe shifted, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at Sean. “Still think you don’t deserve to be happy?”

Sean snorted, too tired to form a proper response. “You’re such an asshole,” he muttered, though the fondness in his tone was unmistakable.

Gabe grinned, leaning down to press a soft kiss to Sean’s temple. “Yeah, but I’m your asshole.”

Sean couldn’t help but laugh, a low, rumbling sound that felt foreign but welcome all the same.