Rory couldn’t help it; he reached out and ran his hand through Arthur’s hair. “You threw me a lifeline first.”

Arthur smiled against his skin. “I didn’t say you could touch yet.”

“Worst idea ever,” Rory grumbled, tucking his hands back under the pillow.

Except Arthur’s hands now seemed to be making up for the lack of earlier touch, snaking under Rory’s shirt, into his trousers, lighting up every inch of skin they found. When he lowered his weight onto Rory, covering him, Rory’s hands crushed the pillow.

“Jesus,” he said helplessly, his eyes rolling back. “Feels so good, Ace.”

“That’s all I want.” Arthur’s voice broke, like he’d finally let go of something. “I never want to hurt you. I’m so sorry, Teddy, I’m so sorry about tonight. Are you all right? Do you feel safe?”

“Yeah, Ace, I’m okay,” Rory said, meaning every word. “I’m safe with you. I belong with you, like I didn’t know I could belong with anyone.”

“Me too,” Arthur whispered, and stole the rest of Rory’s words with another kiss.

The early sun streamed in through the window on the third floor, catching dust in the beam of light. Arthur’s arm was slung over Rory, who had tucked up against him, back to Arthur’s chest. He could feel Rory’s heartbeat under his palm, his slow, peaceful breaths as his fingers skimmed Arthur’s forearm, light as butterfly wings.

“I never felt like this before.” His voice was rough from sleep, his city accent thicker than ever.

Arthur smiled and tightened the arm around Rory. “Like what? Like you’ve suddenly got yourself a six-foot ball and chain?”

Rory huffed affectionately. “The opposite,” he said, slipping his hand under Arthur’s against his chest and entwining their fingers. Arthur could just make out the small, enchanting smile on his face. “I’ve never felt this weightless. Like I’m in control of my magic, my life, for the first time. Like I don’t have to be afraid. Like having you has set me free.”

Oh. Arthur squeezed his hand with his larger one, emotion thick in his throat. “I thought you were brave, you know,” he said softly. “When we first met. You were brave in the antiques shop when every day was a struggle to leave your room, and you were brave last night when you saved my life. I have always admired your courage.”

“Me?” Rory squirmed over onto his back, his shoulder now hanging off the mattress, and Arthur couldn’t even make more space because the bed was so small he was already pressed against the wall. “You’re the one who hunts magic even though you got none of your own, because you want to protect everyone else. You’re brave enough to hitch yourself to a paranormal.”