Two.
Twinned and matched in time as Garek worked a hand under Tomasz’s shirt to rest off-center on his chest.
“Tomasz,” he sighed. “This is impossible.”
“Don’t question it.” He fisted Garek’s hair, dragging him down into a searing kiss. Those callused hands wandered, touching Tomasz everywhere they could reach. Working lower, beneath the waist of his trousers to grasp his cock.
“Gods!”
“I will never grow weary of this,kochanie.” He stroked him slowly. Intentionally. With the skilled touch earned from night after repeated night toying with Tomasz’s body and learning it as well as he knew his own. “Never in a thousand years.”
“Could we have that long?”
“Gods only know,” he answered. “But we have tonight, and damn the gods, I am caught.” He laughed as he slipped his hand between Tomasz’s thighs, pressing against his entrance and working him with the patience of a man with eternity at his fingertips. “I am caught.”
Tomasz arched against him, tugging his trousers low and widening his legs, the bitter cold of snow against his backside less than a memory of feeling. All that there was, all that there could be, was Garek preparing him, stroking him, kissing beautiful words into his skin before sealing their mouths together.
The press of his cock earned a grunt, the slow working until their bodies fitted together like puzzle pieces, an eternity of bright pain and deep pleasure. His belly swooped at the final notching, and they groaned into each other’s mouths, savoring the taste of their breaths mingling until they were one.
He eased into a steady pace, breath crashing warm against Tomasz’s cheeks and nose. A hitch of his hips dragged forth a moan, pleasure curling his toes in his boots. Garek bit his shoulder and pressed his tongue deep, as if he could swallow the sound. But the bliss of their coupling paled against the quickening of Garek’s heart. Chest to chest in the snow, as though Garek were loath to put any space between them.
His muscles tensed, pleasure surmounting the distant memory of cold and the faint pain of being filled, release building like dawn’s light cresting the horizon. A faint echo blooming brighter with every pump of Garek’s hips. He clutched his shoulders and dragged his hands down Garek’s back, holding tight until his arms and legs shook, the only warning before orgasm blazed through him.
The trees echoed with his cry, and Garek’s answering roar. He did not relent, fucking Tomasz harder and riding him down like the quarry he was. Impossibly, pleasure built anew, surging and bursting brighter than before. He buried his face in Garek’s shoulder, whimpering and babbling until finally his lover slowed and stopped.
Those beloved arms wrapped around Tomasz, holding him close as Garek rolled onto his back, stroking him in the come down.
“How is this possible?” he rasped after a long while.
“I fear the answer, if we are ever given one.”
Tomasz raised his head, relishing the sight of Garek at ease. Head tipped in the snow, his eyes were closed, the strain he carried in all of their meetings vanished at last. He was lovely like this, sated and winded from catching his prey. Callused palms braced Tomasz’s back, though no winter cold prickled his skin. He dreaded his next words, knowing they would erase the loveliness of the moment.
“Will you leave me again?”
Garek’s fingers dug into his back. “Never.”
“I am dead.”
“As am I,” he stated plainly. Tomasz stiffened, and Garek cracked one silver eye open. “Did you think I was alive?”
“I did not know what to think.” He drew a light circle over Garek’s heart. “But if you speak the truth, how are you here?”
“Crossed the wrong witch,” he answered. Gently, Garek removed himself from Tomasz, tucking back into his trousers before helping him dress. “She sought a companion in me. I told her she was chasing the impossible, and here we are.”
Tomasz rose on shaking legs, moving to brush snow off of his clothes and stopped with a gulp when there was none. He looked to Garek, lost in the reminder that he was no longer of the world he knew.
The huntsman stood tall before him, bright eyes gleaming. Where before they reminded him of the winter moon, cold and distant, now they shone with the warmth of adoration, and love.
“Come with me,kochanie.”
Garek extended his hand. The wind followed, dragging with it a ribbon of snow to wrap around Tomasz. It pulled at his sleeves and teased his hair, playfully drawing him forward, closer to Garek and his offer.
“How?” He slashed his arm and the wind fell away at his bidding. “How would this even work? I am a ghost, and you are cursed, this is impossible.”
“Cursed to ride for my quarry,” Garek said in an odd, empty voice, as though he were reciting something far older than Tomasz. He cocked his head and that lovely smile played over his lips. “Cursed never to touch, never to be caught. Cursed to chase the impossible.”
In one stride he closed the distance between them, cupping Tomasz’s cheek and dragging a thumb across his lower lip.