I can give you my word that I've not got a thing you can catch from me.

[Being fae was hardly contagious, after all. Oh, becoming fae was possible, but that was something done in Underhill with magics he never touched. Since Bob was male, he couldn't even catch a pregnancy. It was almost too perfect.

He closed his eyes as the wandering finger move up along his chest, that feeling of need racing through his veins before he moved his hands around to grope at the other man's ass, pulling him in firmly.]

Thoughts like that are why you're going to need to keep getting tested if you play around, love. And one day, the dice won't favor your roll. But for tonight, with me, you're perfectly safe.