Witch’s Promise (Shadowguards #3.5)

24. Sean

Chapter 24

Sean

H e drifted back to consciousness slowly, his senses gradually coming online one by one. The first thing he noticed was the softness beneath him, a stark contrast to the hard attic floor where he'd last been aware. The mattress cradled his battered body, offering a comfort he hadn't realized he'd been missing.

Then came the smell – a familiar blend of sandalwood and something uniquely Gabe that made Sean's heart ache with longing. He breathed it in deeply, allowing the scent to wash over him. If this was death, Sean thought hazily, maybe it wasn't so bad after all.

Curiosity finally won out over the desire to stay in this blissful cocoon of warmth and Gabe-scent. Sean cracked open his eyes, wincing as even the soft light of the room sent spikes of pain through his skull. He blinked, waiting for his vision to clear, and gradually took in his surroundings.

He was in Gabe's room, he realized with a start. The same posters on the walls, the same cluttered desk in the corner. It was like stepping back in time, to a period when things were simpler, when the weight of the world didn't seem to rest so heavily on their shoulders.

A movement to his left caught Sean's attention. There, slumped in a chair pulled up close to the bed, was Gabe. His head was pillowed on his arms, face turned towards Sean even in sleep. Dark stubble shadowed his jaw, and there were lines of exhaustion etched around his eyes that Sean didn't remember being there before.

Sean's heart clenched at the sight. Gabe looked like he hadn't slept properly in days, and a wave of guilt washed over Sean as he realized he was probably the cause.

Slowly, fighting against the protests of his aching body, Sean reached out. His fingers trembled as they made contact with Gabe's cheek, the stubble rough against his skin. He traced the line of Gabe's jaw, marveling at how familiar and yet how new this felt.

Gabe stirred under his touch, brow furrowing before his eyes fluttered open. For a moment, he just stared at Sean, as if not quite believing what he was seeing. Then, with a choked sound that was half laugh, half sob, Gabe surged forward.

His lips met Sean's in a kiss that was achingly tender, filled with all the fear and relief and love that words couldn't express. Sean melted into it, his hand coming up to cup the back of Gabe's neck, holding him close.

When they finally broke apart, Gabe's eyes were wet with unshed tears. "You're awake," he breathed, his voice rough with emotion. "God, Sean, we've been waiting for you to wake up for so long."

Sean frowned, confusion cutting through the haze of pain and lingering sleep. "How long?" he asked, his own voice barely more than a rasp. "How long was I out?"

Gabe's expression tightened, a flicker of remembered fear passing across his face. "A week," he said softly. "You've been recovering for a week. I thought... fuck, Sean, I was so scared we were going to lose you."

The raw honesty in Gabe's voice made Sean's chest ache. He reached out, taking Gabe's hand in his own and squeezing gently. "Hey," he said, trying to inject some strength into his voice. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere, Choccy."

The old nickname slipped out without conscious thought, a relic from their shared past. Sean tensed, suddenly unsure if he still had the right to use it. But Gabe's face lit up, a watery chuckle escaping his lips even as fresh tears spilled down his cheeks.

"You don't understand," Gabe said, his voice cracking. "You flatlined, Sean. A couple of times. Finn barely kept you alive. I thought... I thought I was going to lose you for good this time."

The pain in Gabe's voice hit Sean like a physical blow. He tugged on their joined hands, pulling Gabe closer until their foreheads rested together. "Hey, hey," Sean murmured, his free hand coming up to cup Gabe's cheek. "I promised I'd never leave you again, remember? And I don't intend to break that promise. I just got you back, Gabe. I'm not letting go that easily."

Gabe's eyes met his, a maelstrom of emotions swirling in their depths. "You better not," he said, his voice thick with feeling. "Because I love you, you idiot. And if you ever pull a stunt like that again, I'll kill you myself."

Sean couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up, even though it sent a twinge of pain through his ribs. "I love you too," he said, meaning it with every fiber of his being. "And I swear, I'll always come back to you. No matter what."

Gabe surged forward again, capturing Sean's lips in another kiss. This one was different – still tender, but with an underlying current of possessiveness that made Sean's toes curl. He gave as good as he got, pouring all of his love and gratitude and relief into the kiss.

When they finally broke apart, both panting slightly, Sean felt a niggling worry resurface. "My dad," he said, hating to break the moment but needing to know. "And the Wisterias. Are they okay? What happened after..."

Gabe's expression sobered, though he didn't pull away. "Your dad's fine," he assured Sean quickly. "Banged up, but nothing serious. He actually wanted to talk to you when you woke up. Said he had some explaining to do."

Sean nodded, a complex tangle of emotions rising in his chest at the thought of facing his father. But Gabe wasn't finished.

"The Wisterias took Jessy home," he continued. "They needed some time to process everything, I think. But they said they'd be back soon. They want to talk to all of us, figure out where we go from here."

The implications of that – of 'we' and 'where we go from here' – weren't lost on Sean. It spoke of a future, of plans and possibilities that he'd thought were long since out of reach.

"Okay," Sean said, nodding slowly. "That's... okay. We'll figure it out."

Gabe smiled, soft and fond in a way that made Sean's heart skip a beat. "Yeah," he agreed. "We will. Together."

The word hung between them, full of promise and potential. Sean felt a warmth bloom in his chest, chasing away the lingering chill of guilt and self-doubt that had been his constant companions for so long.

But the moment was broken by a wave of exhaustion that crashed over Sean, making his eyelids feel suddenly heavy. Gabe noticed immediately, his brow furrowing with concern.

"You should rest," he said, already moving to help Sean settle back against the pillows. "Your body's been through hell, it needs time to recover."

Sean wanted to protest, to say that he'd already slept for a week and that was more than enough. But his body betrayed him, a yawn escaping before he could stop it.

"Fine," he grumbled, even as he sank gratefully into the soft embrace of the mattress. "But don't think this gets you out of more kissing later."

Gabe laughed, the sound warming Sean from the inside out. "Wouldn't dream of it," he said, leaning in to press a soft kiss to Sean's forehead. "Get some sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."

As Sean drifted off, lulled by the gentle stroke of Gabe's fingers through his hair, he felt something settle in his chest. A sense of peace, of rightness, that he hadn't experienced in years.

Sean's eyes fluttered open, squinting against the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. The room was quiet, save for the gentle hum of a nearby air conditioner. As his vision cleared, he realized Gabe was no longer by his side. Instead, a familiar figure stood silhouetted against the window.

His father.

Sean tried to call out, but his voice caught in his throat, coming out as a raspy croak. The sound, though faint, was enough to catch his father's attention. He turned, and for the first time in years, Sean really looked at the man who had shaped so much of his life.

The changes were subtle but significant. The perpetual tension that had always seemed to cling to his father like a second skin was gone, replaced by a weariness that spoke of recent trials. But there was something else too – a softness around the eyes that Sean couldn't remember ever seeing before.

"Sean," his father said, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. He moved to the bedside, reaching for a glass of water on the nightstand. "Here, let me help you with that."

Sean allowed his father to support his head as he sipped the cool water, relief flooding through him as it soothed his parched throat. When he'd drunk his fill, his father set the glass aside, his movements oddly hesitant.

"How are you feeling?" Sean managed to ask, his voice still rough but at least audible now.

His father's lips twitched in what might have been an attempt at a smile. "Better," he said. "Though I wouldn't say no to another dose of whatever concoction that Finn fellow whipped up. Packs quite a punch."

To Sean's surprise, his father chuckled – a low, rusty sound that Sean realized he hadn't heard in years. The familiarity of it made his chest ache with a complex mixture of emotions he couldn't quite name.

"Look, son," his father began, his tone growing serious. He seemed to struggle for a moment, as if the words he wanted to say were physically difficult to get out. "I... I owe you an apology. A big one."

Sean blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected turn in the conversation. "Dad, you don't have to-"

"No, I do," his father cut him off, raising a hand to silence any further protests. "I've been a fool, Sean. For years, I let Riley poison my mind, turn me against our family, against witches... against you."

The raw honesty in his father's voice made Sean's throat tight with emotion. He'd spent so long angry at his father, blaming him for the pain and isolation he'd endured. But seeing him now, vulnerable and open in a way Sean had never witnessed before, it was hard to hold onto that anger.

"I want to make things right," his father continued, his eyes never leaving Sean's face. "To show you how serious I am about changing, I've agreed to help Alex's organization. To fight the good fight, as it were."

Sean's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You're working with the Shadowguards? Seriously?"

His father nodded, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "Believe me, I'm as surprised as you are. But after everything that's happened... well, let's just say my perspective has shifted somewhat."

A spark of hope flared in Sean's chest, fragile but undeniable. "That's... that's good, Dad. Really good. It's a big step towards rebuilding... well, everything."

"I hope so," his father said softly, reaching out to tentatively pat Sean's hand. The gesture was awkward, unpracticed, but it spoke volumes about his father's desire to reconnect. "I know I've got a lot to make up for, son. But I want to try, if you'll let me."

Sean swallowed hard past the lump in his throat. "Yeah," he managed, his voice thick with emotion. "Yeah, I'd like that."

They sat in silence for a moment, both men grappling with the weight of years of misunderstanding and hurt. But there was one question that had been burning in Sean's mind for years, one he'd never dared to ask until now.

"Dad," Sean began hesitantly, "what really happened to Mom? I know you said it was a heart attack, but with everything that's happened, I can't help but wonder..."

His father’s face crumpled, a look of raw grief overtaking his features. For a moment, Sean regretted asking, fearing he'd pushed too far too soon. But then his father took a deep, shuddering breath and began to speak.

"The doctors weren't lying, Sean," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Your mother... she had a heart condition. Had it since she was born. We knew, of course, but she never let it slow her down. Said life was too short to live in fear."

Sean listened, transfixed, as his father spoke about his mother with a tenderness he'd never heard before. It was like a veil had been lifted, allowing him to see the love that had existed between his parents – a love that had been overshadowed by grief and bitterness for so long.

"The night she died," his father continued, his voice breaking, "we'd been arguing. About you, actually. She wanted to tell you the truth about our family, about the organization. I was against it, thought it would put you in danger. We went to bed angry, and then..."

He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. But Sean understood. The guilt his father must have carried all these years, thinking his last words to his wife had been in anger, it was a weight Sean knew all too well.

"Dad," Sean said softly, reaching out to grasp his father's hand. "It wasn't your fault. You know that, right?"

His father looked up, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "Logically, yes. But the heart isn't always logical, is it?"

Sean shook his head, a sad smile tugging at his lips. "No, it's really not."

They sat there for a long moment, hands clasped, sharing in a grief that had gone unacknowledged for far too long. It wasn't forgiveness, not yet. There was still too much hurt, too many years of misunderstanding between them. But it was a start.

A soft knock at the door interrupted the moment of shared vulnerability between Sean and his father. Gabe's head poked in, his expression a mixture of apology and urgency.

"Hey," Gabe said softly, his eyes flickering between Sean and his father. "Sorry to interrupt, but the Wisterias are here. Sean, do you think you're up for a little meeting? Can you stand?"

Sean's immediate instinct was to say yes, to push through whatever discomfort or weakness he might be feeling. Old habits died hard, after all. But as he shifted, preparing to swing his legs off the bed, he felt a wave of dizziness wash over him.

"I, uh, might need a hand," Sean admitted, hating the weakness in his voice. "Legs feel like jelly after a week of being a vegetable."

Gabe was at his side in an instant, one arm wrapping around Sean's waist to support him as he stood. The contact sent a jolt of electricity through Sean's body, a reminder of everything that had changed between them.

"I've got you," Gabe murmured, his breath warm against Sean's ear. "Just take it slow, okay?"

Together, they made their way to the living room, Sean's father following close behind. The short journey left Sean embarrassingly winded, but he pushed down the frustration. He was alive, after all. A little weakness was a small price to pay for that.

The living room was crowded with familiar faces. Emily and Damian Reed sat on the couch, their expressions a mixture of concern and relief as they watched Sean's slow progress. Giana and Gino hovered nearby, clearly itching to help but unsure if their assistance would be welcome.

"Where's your team?" Sean asked Gabe as they settled into an armchair, his voice low enough that only Gabe could hear. "Thought they'd want to be here for this little pow-wow."

Gabe's expression tightened slightly. "Had to head back to New York last night. Duty calls, you know how it is."

Before Sean could respond, a blur of movement caught his attention. Jessy Wisteria rushed forward, throwing her arms around him in a hug that was equal parts grateful and guilt-ridden.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "For not giving me to Riley. For risking everything to protect me."

Sean awkwardly patted her back, unsure how to respond. The guilt that had been his constant companion for so long reared its ugly head. He didn't deserve her gratitude. If he'd been smarter, faster, stronger, none of this would have happened in the first place.

As Jessy pulled away, Sean's eyes landed on her parents. Caroline and Dexter Wisteria sat rigidly in their chairs, their faces drawn with exhaustion and lingering fear. But there was something else there too – a determination that spoke of hard decisions made and difficult conversations had.

Caroline cleared her throat, drawing everyone's attention. "First," she said, her voice steady despite the emotion shining in her eyes, "I want to thank you, Gabe. For saving us. And you, Damian, for not turning us in to the council. We... we know we don't deserve such kindness."

She paused, taking a shaky breath before continuing. "What I did... I thought I was doing the right thing. The loss of a child, it... it changes you. Makes you desperate. But that's no excuse. I should have known better."

Sean felt a pang of sympathy, recognizing the self-recrimination in Caroline's voice. He knew all too well the weight of choices made in desperation, the burden of living with the consequences.

Dexter spoke next, his hand reaching out to clasp his wife's. "After much discussion," he said, his eyes meeting each person in the room in turn, "and thanks in large part to our daughter's wisdom, we've decided to merge the Wisteria and Reed covens."

A ripple of surprise went through the room. Sean felt Gabe tense beside him, could practically hear the gears turning in his head as he processed this unexpected development.

"Damian has graciously agreed to take the reins for now," Dexter continued, nodding towards Gabe's father. "At least until Gabe is ready to step into the role we all know he's destined for."

The weight of expectation in those words hung heavy in the air. Sean glanced at Gabe, saw the conflict warring in his eyes. He wanted to reach out, to offer some words of comfort or support. But what could he say? He was an outsider in this world of covens and magical politics.

As the conversation continued, Sean felt exhaustion creeping up on him. The events of the past week, the emotional roller coaster of the morning – it was all catching up to him in a rush. He tried to stifle a yawn, but Gabe, ever attentive, noticed immediately.

"I think that's enough for now," Gabe said, his tone brooking no argument. "Sean needs rest. We can continue this discussion later."

There were murmurs of agreement, concerned glances thrown Sean's way. He wanted to protest, to insist he was fine, but the bone-deep weariness made even that small act of defiance feel impossible.

Gabe helped Sean to his feet, supporting most of his weight as they made their way back to the bedroom. As they reached the door, Sean managed to find his voice.

"Think I could grab a shower?" he asked, grimacing at the feeling of days-old sweat and grime on his skin. "Feel like I've been marinating in my own funk for a week."

Gabe chuckled, the sound warming Sean from the inside out. "Sure thing. Let's get you cleaned up, stinky."

As Gabe helped him into the bathroom, setting out towels and clean clothes, Sean felt a surge of emotion threatening to overwhelm him. This care, this tenderness – it was more than he deserved. More than he'd ever allowed himself to hope for.

"Hey," Gabe said softly, catching Sean's gaze in the mirror. "You okay?"

Sean nodded, not trusting himself to speak past the lump in his throat. But Gabe, as always, seemed to understand what he couldn't say.

"I've got you," Gabe murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to Sean's temple. "Always."

Sean let out a slow breath as Gabe guided him to the edge of the bed, his legs shaking with each step. His body still felt foreign—like he wasn’t quite connected to it, more a ghost puppeteering his own limbs. The weight of Jessy's gratitude, the intensity of the Wisterias’ decision to merge covens, all of it circled his brain like vultures. There was a part of him that screamed he should be handling this better. He was supposed to be stronger than this.

But hell, his legs felt like they'd been run over by a semi, and his head was still spinning from everything he'd woken up to after the magical fight.

"Here." Gabe's voice was calm, grounding as he stood nearby. Sean watched as he disappeared into the bathroom for a moment, then returned with fresh towels and some clean clothes. The towel was laid on the back of a chair, and the way Gabe moved—efficient, knowing exactly what Sean needed without him having to ask—made that lump in his throat from earlier creep back.

Sean swallowed it down, not wanting to choke on his own emotions. There was no space for weakness. No space for the guilt that festered inside him, gnawing at his ribs, like his insides were made of fucking sawdust.

"Think you can manage a shower without me?" Gabe asked, his tone lighter than the storm that had gathered in the other room.

Sean blinked, catching his reflection in the mirror across the room. His face looked pale, shadows under his eyes, the bruises from the fight still a dull purple near his hairline. He looked like shit. But at least he was still breathing, and that seemed like a small fucking miracle at this point.

"Yeah," Sean rasped, forcing a smirk that he didn’t feel. "I’ll try not to drown."

The half-joke was weak, but it earned a snort from Gabe. "Yeah, let’s not add that to the shit we’re already dealing with."

Gabe turned to leave, but not before squeezing Sean’s shoulder. It was a small touch, brief, but the weight of it lingered, staying with Sean as he dragged himself into the bathroom. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving him alone with his thoughts, which—great. Just what he needed. More time to stew in his own misery.

The hot water from the shower was scalding, but he didn’t turn it down. The sting was good, a reminder he was still alive. The spray hit his back, washing away the sweat and grime from the past days. His muscles screamed in protest at standing for so long, but he grit his teeth and dealt with it. The soap slipped through his fingers, and he cursed under his breath, leaning against the tile for support as the steam swirled around him.

“Fuck,” Sean muttered, pressing his forehead to the cool tile.

The bathroom door creaked open.

"You okay in there?" Gabe's voice cut through the fog in his head.

Sean took a breath, trying to steady the tremble in his voice. "Yeah. Just... thinking."

A pause, then, "Thinking's dangerous, you know."

Sean let out a weak laugh. "No shit."

The water was beginning to run cool, so he turned it off, pushing open the glass door and reaching for the towel. Gabe was leaning against the doorframe, watching him with that same look he always gave when he knew Sean was spiraling. It wasn’t pity—thank God—but more like Gabe was waiting for him to snap out of it, to come back to reality.

Sean ran the towel over his body, the fresh clothes Gabe had left feeling soft against his battered skin. The moment of silence between them stretched, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was just... them.

But it didn’t stay that way for long.

As Sean stepped closer, his legs still shaky, Gabe’s arm shot out to steady him. The touch wasn’t just practical—it sent a spark through Sean that reminded him just how much had changed between them. It was a different kind of pull, one that dragged him deeper, past the surface level of care and into something much more dangerous.

"You need to rest," Gabe said, his voice a little quieter now, like he could read the shift in Sean’s thoughts.

"I need..." Sean’s throat went dry, the words sticking. He should say he needed sleep, or maybe a drink, or another round of whatever twisted therapy this was turning into. But none of that felt right. What he needed, what he wanted, was standing right in front of him.

Gabe’s brow furrowed, his grip still firm on Sean’s arm. "What?"

There was no hesitation. Sean grabbed Gabe by the front of his shirt, pulling him in until their lips crashed together, hot and desperate. The frustration, the fear, the guilt—it all melted into that kiss, and it wasn’t gentle. Fuck gentle. He didn’t deserve gentle.

Gabe responded instantly, his hands sliding up to Sean’s neck, fingers threading through his wet hair. Sean’s back hit the wall, and the cold tile was nothing compared to the heat pooling in his gut. They kissed like they were both starving, like this was the only thing tethering them to the world, grounding them.

Sean pulled back, his breathing ragged, eyes wild as they searched Gabe’s face. "I need you. Now."

For a second, Gabe looked like he was about to protest, to tell him they should slow down, that Sean wasn’t ready for this. But that thought died when he saw the raw intensity in Sean’s gaze. Gabe’s grip tightened on Sean’s hips, pulling him closer, pressing their bodies together.

"I’ve got you," Gabe whispered, his voice rough as his lips found Sean’s again.

Everything after that was a blur of heat and touch and need. Gabe’s hands were on him, everywhere, tracing the lines of his muscles, finding every scar, every bruise. And Sean, for the first time in what felt like forever, let himself give in to it, let himself feel instead of think.

They made their way to the bed, limbs tangled as clothes were hastily discarded. Sean’s body was still weak, still a little sore, but fuck it. He didn’t care. All he cared about was the way Gabe’s hands moved over him, the way his mouth tasted, the way their skin slid together like it was meant to be this way.

There was nothing gentle about it. Not in the way Gabe pressed Sean down onto the mattress, or the way Sean’s hands gripped the sheets so hard his knuckles turned white. The need between them was like a damn tidal wave, crashing down, pulling them both under.

"Fuck," Sean hissed as Gabe’s fingers dug into his hips, holding him in place. Every touch, every movement was electric, setting his nerves on fire. "Please, Gabe, I need?—"

"Yeah," Gabe rasped, his lips brushing the shell of Sean’s ear. "I know what you need."

There was no room for hesitation now, no space for second-guessing.

Sean's breath hitched as Gabe’s fingers tightened their grip, pulling him closer until there wasn’t an inch of space left between them. Gabe’s body was solid, grounding him, pushing away the swirling chaos that usually clawed at the edges of Sean’s mind. Everything felt sharper, clearer—the way Gabe’s skin felt hot against his own, the way his breath came in heavy, uneven pants as he leaned in closer, lips ghosting over Sean’s neck.

The tension that had built between them over days boiled over now, and it was like a fucking dam had burst. Sean felt the pull deep in his gut, a raw need that he didn’t have the energy to fight. Didn’t want to fight.

Gabe's hands slipped lower, fingertips brushing teasingly along Sean’s thigh before sliding up to his ass, pulling him forward until their cocks brushed together. Sean groaned, the sound guttural, ripped from somewhere deep inside as the sensation jolted through him like a live wire.

"Fuck," Sean muttered, his voice hoarse as he pressed his forehead against Gabe’s shoulder, trying to steady his breathing. "Fuck, I?—"

Gabe didn’t give him time to finish the thought, didn’t let him lose himself in the usual spiral of doubt. Instead, Gabe shifted, one hand sliding between them, fingers wrapping around Sean’s cock with a confidence that stole the rest of Sean’s breath away. It was rough, fast—exactly what Sean needed. The friction, the heat, it was too much and not enough all at once, and he gasped, eyes squeezed shut as he tried to hold on to the last thread of control he had left.

"Let go," Gabe whispered against his skin, his breath hot, his words commanding. "I’ve got you."

The low rasp of Gabe’s voice sent a shudder down Sean’s spine. The grip Gabe had on him was relentless, every stroke deliberate, and it was pushing Sean right to the edge. His body was on fire, each nerve ending lit up like he’d been doused in gasoline and Gabe was the match. He couldn’t think—didn’t want to think. He just needed to feel something other than guilt, other than pain.

And Gabe was giving him exactly that.

Sean’s hips jerked involuntarily, grinding against Gabe’s hand as the pleasure built, every stroke sending him closer to the point of no return. His hands dug into Gabe’s back, nails biting into his skin, but Gabe didn’t flinch. Instead, he leaned in, biting down on the sensitive skin of Sean’s neck just hard enough to draw a sharp gasp from him.

"Shit, Gabe," Sean growled, his voice rough with need as he bucked into Gabe’s hand. His body felt like it was seconds away from giving out, his head swimming with heat and desire, and yet he wanted more. Needed more. "Don’t stop—please, don’t fucking stop."

Gabe’s response was immediate. His other hand slipped down between Sean’s legs, fingers pressing in just enough to make Sean’s breath catch, make his heart pound faster as he gasped. The feeling was almost too much, pushing Sean into that dizzying space where everything blurred into sensation, where nothing else existed except Gabe’s hands, his touch, his fucking heat.

Without thinking, Sean spread his legs wider, giving Gabe better access, and Gabe took advantage of it instantly. His fingers teased Sean’s hole, rubbing slow, firm circles before pushing inside, and the jolt that shot through Sean’s body was enough to make him moan loudly, his head tipping back against the pillows.

"That’s it," Gabe muttered, his voice low and full of intent as he worked his fingers deeper. "Take it, Sean. I’ve got you."

Sean’s body responded immediately, hips pushing down against Gabe’s hand, seeking more, needing more. The pressure of Gabe’s fingers inside him, combined with the unrelenting stroke of his hand around Sean’s cock, was driving him insane. His body was trembling, his muscles taut as a fucking bowstring, and he was so goddamn close to the edge that it hurt.

"Fuck, Gabe, I—" Sean’s words caught in his throat, choked off by a gasp as Gabe twisted his fingers, hitting that perfect spot inside him that had Sean’s whole body lighting up like a fuse had been lit. His legs trembled, his grip on Gabe’s shoulders tightening as pleasure surged through him, white-hot and unstoppable.

"You’re close," Gabe murmured, his tone teasing now, breath hot against Sean’s ear as he thrust his fingers deeper. "I can feel it."

Sean could barely respond. His mind was a haze of pleasure and heat, his whole body burning from the inside out. He could feel the pressure building, the tight coil in his gut ready to snap at any second, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold on.

Then Gabe’s thumb brushed over the tip of Sean’s cock, slick with precum, and that was it. The last fucking straw.

Sean let out a guttural cry as his orgasm ripped through him, his whole body seizing up as the pleasure exploded, bright and blinding. His cock pulsed in Gabe’s hand, cum spilling across both of them as Sean trembled, riding out the waves of his release with ragged breaths. His muscles shook with the intensity of it, his grip on Gabe loosening as the tension bled out of him, leaving him spent and gasping.

Gabe didn’t stop. His fingers slowed but didn’t pull out, gently stroking Sean through the aftershocks, his touch steady and grounding. Sean’s breath came in shallow pants as he collapsed against the mattress, his whole body tingling from the intensity of what just happened.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the only sound in the room their heavy breathing and the quiet rustle of sheets. Sean’s chest rose and fell rapidly, his mind trying to catch up with the aftermath of what had just happened.

Gabe finally pulled his hand away, leaning back just enough to look down at Sean, his expression soft but filled with that same intensity that always burned just beneath the surface.

"You okay?" Gabe asked, his voice low, but there was something more to it. Like he was asking more than just about the physical.

Sean blinked up at him, his vision still a little blurry, his body still buzzing from the high of release. He felt empty and full at the same time, like he’d been drained of every emotion and yet somehow felt more alive than he had in weeks.

He swallowed hard, nodding. "Yeah," he rasped, his voice rough. "Yeah, I’m good."

But even as the words left his mouth, the guilt started creeping back in. It was always there, waiting for the right moment to remind him that he didn’t deserve this. Didn’t deserve to feel this good, to be this cared for. Not after all the shit he’d done, all the lives he couldn’t save.

But for now, with Gabe still pressed against him, his warmth anchoring Sean to the moment, he tried to push those thoughts away. Just for a little while.

He pressed his face into the crook of Gabe's neck, breathing in the familiar scent that had always meant home to him. Part of him still couldn't believe this was real, that after everything they'd been through, they'd somehow found their way back to each other.

Gabe's fingers traced lazy patterns on Sean's back, the gentle touch sending shivers down his spine. For a moment, Sean allowed himself to simply exist in this bubble of contentment, pushing away the nagging doubts and fears that usually plagued him.

"Sean?" Gabe's voice broke the comfortable silence, a hint of nervousness coloring his tone.

Sean lifted his head, meeting Gabe's eyes. "Yeah?"

Gabe took a deep breath, as if steeling himself for something. "I've been thinking," he began, his gaze never leaving Sean's face. "What if... what if you came to Manhattan with me?"

The words hung in the air between them, heavy with implication. Sean felt his heart rate pick up, a mixture of hope and fear swirling in his gut.

"You mean, like... to visit?" Sean asked, hating how uncertain he sounded.

Gabe shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. "No, I mean to live. To be with me. Permanently."

Sean pushed himself up on one elbow, searching Gabe's face for any sign of doubt or hesitation. But all he saw was love and determination.

"Are you sure?" Sean asked, unable to keep the disbelief from his voice. "I mean, after everything that's happened... everything I've done..."

Gabe's hand came up to cup Sean's cheek, his touch achingly gentle. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life," he said softly. "I love you, Sean. I want to build a life with you. If you want that too, that is."

Sean felt his throat tighten with emotion. He wanted it. God, how he wanted it. But the familiar voice of self-doubt whispered in the back of his mind, reminding him of all the reasons he didn't deserve this happiness.

"What about your work?" Sean managed to ask. "The Shadowguards, your team... I don't want to get in the way of that."

Gabe's smile widened. "That's the beauty of it. I've already talked to Alex. There's a place for you with the Shadowguards if you want it. Your skills, your knowledge of the magical underworld... it could be invaluable."

Sean blinked, caught off guard by this unexpected development. "You... you've really thought this through, haven't you?"

Gabe nodded, a hint of sheepishness creeping into his expression. "I may have been planning this for a while. Even talked to your dad about it."

"My dad?" Sean's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "And he was okay with it?"

"More than okay," Gabe said. "He thinks it's a good idea. Said something about the Drakes and the Reeds joining forces being long overdue."

Sean let out a breathless laugh, overwhelmed by the implications of what Gabe was offering. A future together. A chance to use his skills for good, to be part of something bigger than himself. It was everything he'd ever wanted but never thought he deserved.

"So," Gabe said, his voice soft but expectant. "What do you say? Will you come to Manhattan with me? Be my partner in every sense of the word?"

Sean looked at Gabe, really looked at him. Saw the love shining in his eyes, the hope and determination written across his face. And in that moment, Sean made a decision.

He was done running. Done letting his guilt and fear dictate his life. For once, he was going to choose happiness. Choose love.

"Yes," Sean said, his voice rough with emotion. "Yes, I'll come to Manhattan with you. I'll go anywhere with you, Gabe. As long as we're together."

The smile that broke across Gabe's face was radiant, joy lighting up his features in a way that took Sean's breath away. Before he could say anything else, Gabe pulled him into a kiss that was equal parts tender and passionate.

When they finally broke apart, both breathing heavily, Sean felt lighter than he had in years. The weight of his past, of his mistakes and regrets, didn't disappear entirely. But for the first time, it felt manageable. Because he wasn't facing it alone anymore.

"I love you," Sean murmured, resting his forehead against Gabe's. "I know I've got a lot of baggage, a lot of shit to work through. But I promise, I'm all in this time. No more running, no more pushing you away."

Gabe's arms tightened around him, holding Sean close as if he never wanted to let go. "I love you too," he whispered. "And we'll figure it out together, okay? Whatever comes next, we face it as a team."

As they lay there, wrapped in each other's arms with the promise of a future stretching out before them, Sean felt something he hadn't experienced in a very long time: hope. Real, tangible hope for a life filled with love and purpose.

It wouldn't be easy. He knew that. There would be challenges, setbacks, moments when his guilt and self-doubt would threaten to overwhelm him. But with Gabe by his side, Sean felt ready to face whatever came their way.

For the first time in years, Sean Drake allowed himself to look forward to the future. And as he drifted off to sleep, Gabe's steady heartbeat a comforting rhythm beneath his ear, he knew that no matter what tomorrow brought, he was exactly where he was meant to be.