But it had been eight days. Eight days and four hours since Haydn had kissed him goodbye before leaving on his never-ending quest to find his cousin. At this point, Royce privately thought Devlin must have been dead, killed by some trigger-happy asshole like Taube eager to “put down an animal.” Royce hadn’t shared that thought with his husband, but Haydn wasn’t stupid, either. With every fruitless search and false lead, the hope in Haydn’s blue eyes seemed to become dimmer. Royce had been bracing himself for the inevitable: the day Haydn would either find the body or give up altogether. He wasn’t sure which option would be worse. A proper closure would probably be good for Haydn, but goddammit, Royce didn’t want his husband to be upset.
He frowned, preparing words of encouragement and support—anything to make Haydn feel better—when the door opened and Haydn strode in, a wide, brilliant smile on his face. “I’ve found him, Royce!”
For a moment, the words didn’t even register: Royce was too busy staring hungrily at Haydn’s beautiful smile. When they did, Royce sat up straighter. “What?”
Beaming at him, Haydn straddled his lap and kissed him hard. “I found him,” he said between kisses, his hand gripping Royce’s tie. “Mmm, I’ve missed you.”
“Missed you, too,” Royce said, nipping on Haydn’s bottom lip and pulling him flush against his chest. Fuck, he couldn’t hold him tightly enough, his cock already hard and eager. He felt thirsty, hungry, starved for him. He kissed Haydn hard, grinding his cock against his ass, and trailed wet kisses down Haydn’s muscular neck before latching onto his scent gland.
Haydn laughed breathlessly. “Don’t you want to know where I’ve found him?”
“Is his life in danger?”
“Well… no.”
“Then it can wait.” Royce started unbuttoning Haydn’s shirt, peppering his neck with kisses. “It’s been too long since I had my cock in you.”
“Charming,” Haydn said with a laugh, though he was equally hard against Royce’s stomach. “Babe, we’re in the Senate building. We have to work here.”
Royce forced himself to stop, even though his body was screaming in protest. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he took a deep breath. “You’re right. I’m sorry—it was irresponsible of me. I just missed you.”
Haydn smiled at him, his blue eyes very soft and so very lovely. “I know. Me, too. It’s been practically forever.”
“Eight days.”
“And four hours,” Haydn added unhappily, stroking Royce’s chest.
Royce laughed and hugged him tightly. It was good to know he wasn’t the only one being pathetic.
“I love you,” he said, kissing behind Haydn’s ear and breathing in his scent greedily. He couldn’t believe there was a time he’d found it unattractive. It seemed like it was in another life—like he had been a different man altogether. A lonely, unhappy man married to his job.
Haydn let out a contented sigh. “Love you, too,” he said, running his fingers down Royce’s arm and entangling their fingers together. “So much.”
Royce squeezed his hand. “So, where did you find Devlin?”
Grinning, Haydn started talking and gesticulating animatedly, his blue eyes bright with happiness and relief.
Royce just watched him and nodded hopefully in the right places, drinking him in. Fuck, he was so beautiful. So damn pretty. The loveliest thing he’d ever seen. And he was just his. His husband, his mate, his Haydn.
Haydn started laughing. “You aren’t listening!”
“Who can blame me?” Royce said, pushing him onto his desk. Fuck it. He was done being responsible.
“You can’t be serious—”
Royce kissed him.
Haydn was still laughing as he kissed back, so the kiss wasn’t very good.
It still felt perfect.
The End