by Alex Faure
Darius simply stared. Fionn’s feet were no longer feet, but an owl’s talons, though his hands were still human, or almost, the fingers overlong and tipped with claws. The wings were a thing of beauty. They seemed to contain every hue of white, shot through with lines of copper and gold and silver. Darius wanted to touch them. His gaze rose to Fionn’s face, and he found that it was little changed, save for the enormity of his silver eyes, now like twin moons. But it was still Fionn gazing out of those eyes—the stubbornness, the ferocity, the direct challenge. The pale waves of his hair were now mixed with gleaming white feathers.
Suddenly, Darius was calm. His fear ebbed like a tide, revealing a landscape of bone-deep longing coupled with something sweet that he had never felt before.
He closed the distance between them, all traces of hesitancy gone. After all, he wasn’t some green boy—this was terrain he knew how to navigate, and he felt surety swell within him. For the first time in Fionn’s presence, Darius felt as if he knew what to do, as if he’d found a map that he hadn’t known existed.
Darius trailed his fingers up the inner part of Fionn’s arm, marvelling at the softness of the down that covered his skin. Fionn watched the path of his fingers without moving, as if Darius had placed him under a spell.
Darius let go of his hand, and Fionn didn’t draw away. He traced the line of his chin with his thumb, brushing Fionn’s lower lip. Still Fionn didn’t draw away. He was so still that he barely breathed, and Darius found himself wondering how many people had touched Fionn when he was like this—if anyone ever had. Darius was close enough now that he could feel the heat of Fionn’s body. He hooked his hand behind Fionn’s neck and gently pulled him closer.
And then, as naturally as a wave drawing itself over a beach, Darius brushed their mouths together.
Fionn’s lips parted. He placed his hand on Darius’s chest and slowly drew it down. Darius felt as if his touch were igniting a trail of fire. He was painfully hard even from this gentle brush of lips, and Fionn’s hesitant touch. He kissed Fionn again, then drew back to place a line of kisses along his throat. Fionn’s skin was warm, and the down tickled his mouth.
“Darius.” The word, strangely accented, was exhaled with a breath.
Darius pushed him backwards, aiming for the broad trunk of a tree. He wanted to press Fionn against it, mould their bodies together. He was trembling. He wanted to put his mouth to every inch of Fionn’s body. He had to force himself to think clearly. He had no idea how far Fionn wanted him to take this—he couldn’t presume anything. He let Fionn lead the kiss, to tell Darius how deep it could go.
They were in the shadows now, and Fionn jerked back. Immediately, Darius drew his hands away. But Fionn wasn’t reacting to the kiss—he was changing.
His wings shrank and folded into his back with a disconcerting series of cracks. Fionn gave a muffled gasp. Being so close, Darius could see how the wings seemed to melt through the fabric of his tunic and into his skin. The down dissolved, and the talons receded. Worst of all were his legs—they snapped at the knees with a sound that made Darius recoil. Fionn couldn’t suppress a cry at that. He staggered and might have fallen if Darius hadn’t caught him. Darius held him in his arms as the change rippled through him. Finally, it stopped, and Fionn stood trembling in his arms in his human guise.
“It hurts you,” Darius murmured. “Doesn’t it?”
Fionn lifted his head, rubbing his face with a shaking hand. He gave Darius a weary look, his silver eyes returned to their ordinary size, though they seemed to Darius even more otherworldly than they had been before.
Darius trailed his fingers up his arm. He brushed his hand through Fionn’s hair gently, as if he was stroking a nervous cat. Fionn let out a soft sigh. He twined his arms around Darius’s neck and kissed him.
The kiss was fiercer this time, and something deep inside Darius shivered at the brush of Fionn’s tongue. He pushed the other man against the tree and pressed their bodies together as he had desired, which sent a spike of heat through his limbs. His desire was unambiguous; he knew Fionn could feel it.
Fionn leaned his head back, his eyes opening. He regarded Darius for a long moment without speaking. His eyes were shadowed, and once again, Darius could not read him, apart from the flush in his cheeks. They were still wrapped in each other’s arms, breathing each other’s breath.
“Is this…how you want it?” Darius said. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you. I’ll give you anything.”
Fionn smiled. He traced Darius’s cheekbone with a fingertip. “Anything?”
“Anything,” Darius promised. He meant it. “I don’t know how it is among your people. I don’t know how you…”
“I’m not sure I believe your professions of ignorance in this case.” Fionn stepped away, and Darius felt chilled, as if his touch had been a fire that had warmed him to the core. Darius followed him back to the river. Fionn stirred the ashes in their campfire, quickening the embers, then added more wood. It caught, and suddenly the small clearing was almost too hot.
Fionn set his boots down by the fire—he had walked barefoot back through the forest, unbothered by rocks and roots. His movements were slow but precise as he removed his tunic. The skin underneath was no paler than his face or hands, as if the sunlight didn’t have any effect on him. Darius stood unmoving, staring at the smooth plains of his chest, the hollow between his collarbones.
Fionn gathered armfuls of leaves and moss and lay them against the base of a tree. After a moment, Darius realized what he was doing, and moved towards him. Fionn caught his hand and pulled him down onto the makeshift bed. It was surprisingly comfortable, and filled Darius’s nose with the scent of the forest. Fionn smelled like that, but he also smelled like a young man. Fionn ran a finger along the hem of Darius’s tunic, and he drew it off, responding to the wordless request.
“Why did you save my life?” Darius murmured into the quiet. They lay on their sides, facing each other.
Fionn traced the plane of Darius’s chest, his eyes dark, a smile hovering on his lips. His hand came to rest against Darius’s throat, fingers curving around the back, as if to feel the blood thrumming under the skin.
Darius covered Fionn’s hand with his own. He trailed his fingers up his arm, marvelling at the fineness of the sparse blond hairs there. Fionn gave a shiver. Darius wrapped him in his arms, and drew him closer.
He knew what he wanted, but it wasn’t possible. He didn’t know if Fionn would understand—if he knew such a thing was done, or how it could feel. The closeness between them, in that moment, was everything, and Darius wouldn’t risk frightening it away. He kissed Fionn gently. Even though he had kissed Fionn twice now, it felt far more transgressive to kiss him lying down. He remembered who he held in his arms—an enemy warrior, a member of a people whose ways and customs were so foreign that Fionn could be native to the moon. He felt a shiver of surprise and pleasure at the feeling of Fionn’s tongue against his.
Their mouths fit together in a way that made Darius shake, and roused him to the point of pain. He felt lost in the sensation, almost afraid of the climax, sensing that something dark and unknowable awaited him on the other side. His restraint fell away, and he kissed Fionn fiercely, and felt his own desire matched at every instant—not only matched, for it was Fionn who had deepened the kiss, Fionn whose hand now reached down to open Darius’s trousers and wrap around his cock.
Darius felt the shaking intensify. He was going to come from the sensation of Fionn’s mouth on his, and the simplicity of his hand on his cock. He was not even moving his hand, but only squeezing slightly—perhaps he didn’t know what to do, or how to give substance to his own desire. Darius wanted Fionn so fiercely that he began to think that even this innocent, unschooled touch could be enough to set him off, like a spark in a pile of dry kindling.
Fionn broke the kiss, and Darius felt the loss of his mouth as a physical pain. Fionn said something in his own language, the words short, slightly bre
athless. Then Darius realized, to his amazement, that his cock was wet—not only with his own desire, but with the oil Fionn had rubbed there, which he must have taken from the small jar that he had just tucked back into his pack—
Then Fionn was turning in his arms, drawing Darius, who responded half instinctively, behind him as he crouched, then pressing himself back against Darius’s cock.
The silent command was unmistakeable. Darius pressed forward before he was even aware he was doing it, the tip of his oiled cock entering Fionn’s body. Fionn let out a slight gasp, lowering himself onto his forearms. He pressed back against Darius in a way that was as sinuous as it was practiced.
Darius felt as if the world had reoriented itself.
He began to thrust, entering Fionn slowly, his astonishment subsumed by the aching pleasure that coursed through every vein in his body. He and Fionn moved together with a rhythm so natural and easy that it could have been their hundredth lovemaking. In every other sense, the experience was revolutionary, utterly different from anything Darius had ever felt. He felt as if he were understanding himself for the first time, as he lost himself in Fionn’s body, in his attentiveness to every sound and movement he made.
Darius’s hand went to Fionn’s hip, the better to feel and anticipate his motions; his other wrapped around Fionn’s cock. Fionn made another sound, almost a word, and then he breathed again, “Darius.”
Darius was thrusting harder now. Fionn’s gasps became cries. Darius’s voice joined his, though he was not usually vocal during sex. He pressed forward, his chest against Fionn’s back and his mouth at the space between neck and jaw, wanting to feel everything. He wanted to draw Fionn so close to him that their pleasure melted together, their hearts beat to the same time. He wanted to be inside him in spirit as well as body.
Fionn pressed against him, his cock hard and hot in Darius’s hand. He moved with the same unselfconscious grace with which he did everything, whether loosing an arrow or lifting a cup, his body seeking pleasure without any hint of reticence or shyness. It was more intense than any other coupling Darius had experienced, but it was not just a question of skill—it was something that Darius could not articulate, in the throes of his passion. He pressed into Fionn so deeply that he lost all sense that there was anything else in the world.
Fionn’s release, when it came, coursed through his body and into Darius. Darius followed in almost the same moment, coming apart inside Fionn in a rush of ecstasy that transformed him, and left him senseless as it receded.
They lay unmoving for several long moments. Darius could feel Fionn’s heart thrumming through his back and into Darius’s chest. He savoured every beat, as he did the sound of Fionn’s ragged breathing, an echo of the pleasure they’d shared.
Finally, Fionn rose and pulled a blanket from his pack. Darius watched him, his eyes roaming over the lines of his body. He felt almost drunk with happiness. Fionn shook the blanket matter-of-factly and lay it over both of them. Then he drew Darius in for another kiss, twining one of his legs around Darius’s and canting his hips slightly. Other lovers were blushingly awkward afterwards, or bashful, but it seemed these emotions were as foreign to Fionn as air to a fish.
Darius chuckled against his mouth. It felt impossible, what had happened between them. “Did I not satisfy you?”
“When I’m satisfied, you won’t need to ask.” Fionn rolled Darius onto his back and pressed their mouths together. The kiss was rough, an echo of the kiss Fionn had given Darius during that first transformation, before he had bitten him. Darius’s blood heated, but after a moment, he broke the kiss, and took Fionn’s face in his hand.
The other man gazed down at him, lips reddened and face flushed. His beautiful hair was woven with leaves that had the look of a savage form of crown. Darius brushed his lower lashes with his thumb—they were darker and fuller than those of any woman he had known. Darius scanned his face. Fionn wasn’t easy to read, even in the afterglow of what they had shared, but Darius saw no regret in his eyes, nor even a hint of hesitation. There was lust, together with something that looked oddly like longing, but the sort of longing one felt for something lost and far away. Did Fionn regret that they would be parted tomorrow? Why? Darius felt no closer to understanding him than he had been before. If anything, learning of Fionn’s desire for him had only added to the enigma.
The firelight touched Fionn’s hair with gold and made his silver eyes glitter, and Darius smiled. He thought that if he spent a hundred years in Fionn’s company, he would never tire of looking at him. He didn’t think about the fact that they had only this night. He couldn’t. Fionn returned his smile with an air of bemusement, as if Darius was as much an enigma to him.
Darius rolled Fionn onto his back and kissed him again, and again, and they swelled together like remembered song.
Chapter Thirteen
Darius woke the next morning to Fionn’s mouth on his cock.
Pleasure was already rolling through him, and he instinctively cupped his hand around Fionn’s head. Fionn’s tongue circled the tip before pressing into it, deliciously teasing. Darius groaned. Fionn was far too skilful to be a novice. It wasn’t the first time in recent hours he’d had that thought.
Fionn’s mouth slid down his length, building a rhythm and then drawing back teasingly. Soon Darius was panting, his hand a fist in Fionn’s hair. Finally, Fionn went down on him in earnest. Darius lifted his head, and the sight of Fionn crouched on all fours, giving him pleasure, was what sent him over the edge. He burst forth with a cry, and Fionn swallowed it all, drawing off slowly with a self-satisfied smile.
Fionn sprawled against Darius’s chest, and Darius wrapped him in his arms, kissing the top of his beautiful head. He was trembling lightly, a bead of sweat running down his temple.
“I’ve grown unused to that sort of greeting,” he said as he struggled to gain control of himself. The intensity of what he felt for Fionn was almost frightening. They had made love last night until the birds began to twitter in the trees, exhaustion finally causing them to collapse against each other, and yet Darius still wanted more.
“If that’s true, you should be more discerning in choosing your lovers.” Fionn allowed himself to be petted and kissed for a moment, then he rose and pressed his mouth to Darius’s. His hands moved over Darius’s body, teasing and stroking. Evidently, the previous night hadn’t done much to dampen Fionn’s enthusiasm either, or perhaps insatiability ran in his blood together with speed and grace. Eventually, his hands made their way down to Darius’s cock, still soft from his earlier attentions. “What’s this? Where’s your Roman fortitude?”
Darius let out a sound that was half chuckle and half groan. “You haven’t even given me a minute. Unlike you, I have no magical gifts.”
“I want you.” Fionn wrapped his leg around Darius’s hip. And then, as if Darius might have missed his meaning, “I want you inside me.”
“You should have thought of that before you opened your mouth.” Darius murmured it in his ear. He felt delirious with pleasure. “Poor planning on your part.”
“As you noted—” Fionn’s lips moved to Darius’s neck “—I lack the Roman gift for strategy.”
Darius let out a breathy laugh. Somehow, though, he was growing hard again. He could have been sixteen, his body brimming with energy and desire. Except that he hadn’t felt this way at sixteen, or any other time.
Afterwards, Darius wrapped an arm around Fionn, drawing him close so that his back rested against his chest. The Celt made a soft sound of satisfaction. Darius pressed his face into his hair—it was like nuzzling warm cloud.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured into Fionn’s ear. “I didn’t realize your people were so different from the other tribes. In Britannia, this sort of thing is outlawed. Worse than outlawed—I once saw a boy killed for it.”
Fionn stiffened. But only for a moment. He leaned back against Darius, his fingers playing idly with the dark hair on his arm. “What makes you think it is any
different here?”
Darius felt a chill. He drew back so that he was looking down into Fionn’s silver eyes. “Then you—you’re risking your safety by lying with me?”
“If any of my people knew of this, they would consider it a mercy to cut my heart from my chest. It’s the fate that befalls anyone spirit-possessed, and driven to unnatural acts.”
Darius recoiled, as much from Fionn’s words as the calm manner in which they were delivered. “Spirit-possessed.”
Fionn tilted his head. “Is my safety a concern of yours?”
“Yes.”
Fionn smiled. The warmth in his eyes made Darius ache. “And only days ago, you tried to drown me in a river.”
“I tried to throw you in a river. I’m not foolish enough to think I may have accomplished anything more.” Darius brushed his fingers through Fionn’s hair. “Come back to Sicily with me.”
Fionn laughed. He kissed Darius affectionately. “Is that your home? Tell me about it.”
Darius lay beside him. He told the silver-eyed creature in his arms about his beloved olive groves, how he had spent his childhood tending the land with his father. How it had been a lonely life, but not an unhappy one. How Fionn would enjoy wandering those groves, and the wilderness of scrub and pine beyond them, how the long, dry days of sunlight would warm him to his bones and couldn’t fail to put colour in his cheeks.
Fionn listened with a slight smile on his face. “You love this Sicily.”
Darius looked away, blinking. His eyes had grown unexpectedly moist. “Tell me about your home.”
Fionn raised a brow. “I can, but I warn you, it is not so pleasant or idyllic as yours.”
Darius waited. Fionn said, “My mother died when I was eight, my elder sister two years later. My father was devastated twice over. He is a great warrior, and she took after him. She would have made a much better heir than I.”
“Your sister?” Darius said. “Then women can inherit among your people?”