The Consumption of Magic

by T. J. Klune

  “Yes. I promise. I swear, I swear, just fuck me—”

  I grabbed the hilt of the dildo and pulled it out so just the tip remained in him. He exhaled as I did, and he hadn’t taken another breath before I fucked it back inside, watching his ass take it all the way back in. “Fuu—”

  I twisted it inside him, cutting him off into a moan.

  I picked up a careful but steady pace, and he took it just as well as I’d thought he would. I used my free hand to touch his knee or the inside of his thigh or right near his cock without ever actually grabbing it. He groaned in pleasure and frustration, demanding more but not wanting me to stop to take the time to give him more. He started rocking his ass to meet each thrust of the dildo, eyes rolling up in the back of his head. His cock was straining against his stomach, the head flushed with blood, so much so that it looked painful.

  “I need it,” Ryan begged me. “Come on, please, Sam. Please fuck me too. Give me both. I want both.”

  I didn’t know if I could handle more. The sight of him writhing naked on the bed while I was still fully clothed was almost more than I could take. But his eyes were slowly going unfocused, and the jerk of his hips was getting sloppy, and I knew if I kept it up, he’d blow his load without getting what he wanted. And I always gave Ryan Foxheart what he wanted.

  “I know,” I said quietly, slowing the thrust of the dildo, trying to get him to settle. “I know what you need.”

  He nodded weakly at me, trusting me to do what I said I’d do. I pushed the dildo in one final time, leaving it buried inside of him, before letting it go. I leaned between his legs, my groin against the hilt of the dildo, and he sucked in a sharp breath when I pushed it in just a little more, propping my hands on either side of his head, pressing my forehead against his. He was sweaty and panting in my face, but I kissed him slow and sweet, gentling him when he tried to make it more.

  He was frustrated with me for it, growling against me, trying to suck wet and open kisses on my lips and jaw. It took a moment, but finally his breathing slowed and he looked more aware.

  “You still want this?” I asked him, pulling away to brush a sweaty lock of hair from his forehead.

  “Yeah,” Ryan said. He smiled up at me a little. “I want this.”

  “It’s gonna sting.”

  “I know.”

  “And you will tell me if it’s too much.”

  “I will.”

  “Promise me.”

  “I promise.”

  I kissed him again in reward, swiping my tongue against his before standing upright. “You still want me dressed?”

  “Please.” Then his eyes widened. “It’s not because of the—”

  I shook my head. “I know, Ryan. It’s not the scars.”

  “Because they don’t matter to me,” he insisted.

  “I know.”

  “I love them, because they’re part of you.”

  “You sap,” I said fondly, squeezing his knee.

  “It’s just… hot. You. Like this. Me.” He blushed again. “I just like it.”

  “I do too,” I said. I unfastened my breeches, well aware of his gaze on my hands. I was harder than I’d ever been in my life, even with our brief little side trip into potential insecurities (which, honestly, hadn’t even crossed my mind), and the relief I felt when my cock sprang free caused my eyes to briefly close. The anticipation of what we were about to do was causing my hands to shake, but I needed to stay in control for him.

  I opened my eyes, smiling down at Ryan. He watched me with a reverent look on his face, like the sight of me standing above him (with my cock poking out of my pants, no less) was everything he could ever want. I hoped he saw the same expression on my face.

  I took the vial from the nightstand and tipped it again into my hand, spilling more oil. I set it down and jacked myself off, teeth grinding together at the slick grip of my fist. Heat pooled low in my belly at the sight of Ryan lying spread out before me, waiting for me to fuck him alongside the dildo. It wouldn’t take much to make me come, and I had to force my hand to drop so I didn’t jizz all over him right then.

  I reached over his head to grab one of the fat pillows on the bed, motioning him to lift his hips. He complied, the dildo pointing obscenely out of his ass as he did. I thought about flicking it again, but I wasn’t that much of an asshole.

  “Here’s how it’s going to work,” I told him as I situated the pillow underneath him. “I’m going to pull the dildo out. Then I’m going to fuck you with my dick. Once I’m sure you’re ready, I’ll put the dildo back in. Okay?”

  “Okay,” he said, a trickle of sweat running down his forehead to his ear.

  “And you’ll tell me the moment it gets to be too much.”

  “I will.”

  “Good.” I bent over and kissed the inside of his thigh before I pulled the dildo out in one smooth, quick motion. The muscles in his stomach jumped, and his cock was leaking the barest amounts of come onto his skin. Before he could make a sound, I lined my dick up at his asshole and pushed in slowly.

  He was hotter than I remembered him ever being and a little bit looser too. Still he groaned at the intrusion, clenching down on my cock. “I’ll be honest,” I managed to say. “This probably isn’t going to last very long.”

  I didn’t know if he even heard me. He planted his feet against my chest, legs still bent over his torso. I was able to lean forward, his legs holding my weight as I pulled almost all the way out before fucking back into him, my hips slapping against his ass.

  “If we’re going to do this, we need to do it now.”

  His eyes opened again, wide and glazed over. “Do it.”

  The dildo was on the bed next to him where I’d set it. My hand was still sticky with oil, and I rubbed it over the toy, making sure it was slick. I jerked my hips twice, and then a third time before I pulled away, leaving only the head of my cock inside him. “You ready?”

  “I’m ready.”

  “I love you.”

  His smile was blinding. “So much?”

  “So much,” I agreed.

  It was tight, almost too tight. The pressure of the dildo against my dick was borderline painful. I paused when he gasped louder than any time before, eyes bulging, mouth open but making no other sound. I waited, trying not to grimace at the toy pressing down on top of my dick. It took a moment or two, but he relaxed the smallest amount, and I pressed in farther.

  The sound we both made at the sensation seemed to be closer to animal than human. I was low and guttural. He was high-pitched and whining. I went as slow as I could. The angle was slightly awkward, and the dildo wouldn’t go all the way in, and my hips weren’t flush against his ass, but it had to be the most erotic thing I’d ever seen.

  I let his body get used to the stretch as much as it could before his hand slid down from the back of his knee and covered mine on his thigh. He squeezed it once, letting me know he was okay for me to move.

  It wasn’t a quick fuck at that point. Given the way we were positioned and the number of things he had in his ass, it wasn’t possible. My grip on the toy slipped more often than not, and I almost pulled my dick out of him completely more than once. But there were a few moments when everything lined up and the thrusts matched as I pushed my hips and the toy forward at the same time.

  Those were the moments that Ryan’s eyes were open wide but most likely unseeing. Those were the moments when his right foot slid up my chest until his leg was hooked over my shoulder, holding me in place. Those were the moments when he said my name like I was something to be cherished, like I was giving him everything he could have ever hoped for.

  Those were the moments when I knew I would do anything for this man beneath me, this man who trusted me and loved me above all others.

  He came untouched. One moment he was crying out, tears in the corners of his eyes, and the next he was coming, spunk shooting across his chest, hitting his chin and cheeks, a line splashing his lips. He was soundless when it
happened, back bowed upward, muscles straining. I didn’t last after that and came deep inside him, the dildo slipping from my hand and sliding out of him, dropping to the floor.

  “HOLY FUCKING gods,” I said sometime later when I came back to my senses. I had collapsed on top of him. I’d gone soft and slid out of him at some point. He was holding me close, his nose pressed against my hair, his hand on the back of my neck. We were breathing in sync, his heartbeat sluggish and slow against my chest. “That was….”

  “Yeah,” he said quietly. “It was.”

  My brain was trying to restart itself, and I said the only thing I could think of. “If you think about it, we’re pretty much sex gods.”

  I felt the rumble of his laughter, and it caused a smile to stretch wide across my face. He kissed the top of my head, and I sighed happily, letting myself settle on top of him.

  “Even if we’re sex gods,” he said, “it’s going to start feeling gross here in a little bit.”

  “Eh. That’s a problem for future us. Present us feels pretty damn good right now.”

  “You’re not the one leaking out your ass.”

  That should not have been as hot as it was. My dick gave a feeble attempt at getting hard again, but it was a no-go. I told Ryan as much, feeling he needed to know.

  “Sometimes thoughts should remain just that.”

  “Lie,” I said, rubbing my chin on his chest. “You like it when I talk dirty to you.”

  He shuddered as I bit his nipple. “Okay, Sam,” he said, and I didn’t think I could love him any more than I did right then.

  LATER, AFTER we cleaned ourselves and stripped the bed, we lay side by side, heads upon the same pillow, breaths mingling, noses brushing together. It certainly wasn’t home: the bed was too soft, the room creaked differently, the sounds of the brothel weren’t the same as the sounds of a castle. But Ryan was here with me, and that was as close to home as I’d ever needed.

  And it was about to be taken away from me. At least for a little while.

  “I hate Randall,” I told him seriously. “And Morgan.” It was the first time either of us had spoken in a while.

  “I don’t think you do,” he said, tracing my eyebrows with a finger. “You say you do, but you’re all talk sometimes.”

  “I feel like that was an insult.”

  “Probably. But it wasn’t. Mostly.”

  “How comforting.”

  He rolled his eyes. “I don’t like it. But I can kind of see his point.”

  That… wasn’t what I expected. “Say what now?”

  “Don’t look at me like that, Sam. At least hear me out.”

  “I always do.”

  “You’re still sort of glaring at me.”

  “Yeah. That’s probably not going to change.”

  He laughed quietly. “I don’t doubt it.”

  “Speak, Foxheart, before I kick you out of bed.”

  The mirth slid from his face. “You didn’t….” He sighed. “You didn’t see yourself. Not like I did. After what happened with Myrin. You don’t know what it was like to have to find you buried under all that rubble. To see your body twisted. To see you breathing so slowly that I thought you weren’t breathing at all at first. Do you know what that was like?” His eyes were bright. “And then… to see those scars upon you.”

  I tensed, trying to fold in on myself in an attempt to hide them away. We were still nude, and for the first time in days, I hadn’t even thought of them. Sure, I’d felt them pulling when we’d fucked, but it had been negligible, a whisper at the back of my head.

  “No,” he said, reaching up to cup my face, stopping me from curling away from him. “Sam, don’t do that. Don’t hide from me. You know I don’t care about them.”

  “You sure just made it sound like you did.”

  He was frustrated. I could see it on his face. “Not like that,” he said. “I don’t care what you look like.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “Sam.”

  I winced. “Sorry.”

  “They’re part of you. I hate how you got them, but I’ll never hate how they look. But maybe Randall and Morgan are right. Your magic. It’s… big, Sam. Bigger than anything I’ve ever seen, and from what it sounds like, bigger than even they expected. And if Randall of all people is telling you that, we should probably listen to him.”

  I scowled at him, even though I knew he was telling the truth. And the problem with him telling the truth was that I was keeping so much from him. From everyone, really. And not because I didn’t trust them. No. That couldn’t be further from the truth. Of course I trusted Ryan. And Randall. And Morgan. And even if the latter two had lied to me about so many things, I knew they’d done so in order to protect me.

  Which is what I was telling myself I was doing for them.

  I almost believed it too.

  “You’re my cornerstone,” I said. “We shouldn’t be separated. Not this soon.”

  “I don’t like it much either.”

  “But….”

  He shrugged. “But there has to be a reason for it, right? A point. Randall wouldn’t do it just because he’s an asshole.”

  “Actually, he would do it just because he’s an asshole. And watch your mouth.”

  “I can’t believe you talk about him like that.”

  “I can’t believe how much you kiss his ass every time you see him.”

  “He’s Randall.”

  “I know, right? It’s so annoying.”

  He laughed. I loved that sound. “You’re such a dick.”

  “Sometimes.” I captured his hand and kissed his fingers. “I get that you’re worried about me. You don’t have to be.”

  “It’s kind of my job.”

  “It shouldn’t have to be.”

  He stared at me. “You get captured by villains at least once a week.”

  “Well. I’d like to think it’s gone monthly now, but—”

  “Let’s say biweekly and leave it at that—”

  “Who’s going to call you out when you pose for no apparent reason when I’m not there?”

  “I don’t pose. And Gary and Tiggy will do it, because they say it all the time.”

  “Huh,” I said. “I might feel a little bit better about this.” Then, “You can’t fall back in love with Justin.”

  He squinted at me. “Run that one by me again?”

  “Justin. You guys will be traveling together, and maybe one night you’ll get to reminiscing, and then that’ll lead to fleeting touches and accidental hand jobs—”

  “Fleeting touches? What the hell is a fleeting touch—”

  “—and you’ll wake up awkwardly the next morning, spunk drying on your hands, evidence of your coupling branding you in your shame—”

  “And don’t even get me started on accidental hand jobs. How does that even—”

  “—and then you’ll arrive at Castle Freeze Your Ass Off and announce that you’ve adopted three gypsy babies and are planning on moving to an organic farm in the country called the Rusty Rystin, where you and Justin will spend the rest of your lives in unholy bliss while I waste away to an old, miserly spinster who hisses at people to look away from my face because it’s hideous.”

  He was gaping at me.

  “Or something,” I added.

  “Or something,” he repeated.

  “I dunno,” I said, looking away.

  “Sam.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Are you serious right now? You know I never loved him.”

  “Yeah,” I said petulantly. “You never loved him enough to almost marry him.”

  “Gods,” he groaned. “I can’t believe the both of you still give me shit for that.”

  “Well, you did wait until the very last moment to announce your undying love for me in front of everyone.”

  “Right,” he said dryly. “My undying love. Funny how you think then I’d throw that all away for an accidental hand job. And I’m still w
ondering how that works. Does he trip and fall and his hand hits my dick and then we just keep going?”

  “The world is a mysterious place,” I said.

  “You’re an idiot.”

  “Hey! We’re laying on a pillow. You can’t call me an idiot when we’re having pillow talk.”

  “You’re talking about me having an organic farm called the Rusty Rystin!”

  “I think of great names for things,” I said. “It’s one of my many, many talents.”

  “Sam,” he said. “I’m never going to leave you.”

  “Wow,” I breathed, sure there were stars in my eyes. “That was amazing.”

  “I know,” he said, sounding rather pleased with himself. “It’s one of my many, many talents.”

  “You’re ruining the moment with your ego.”

  “But you just said the same thing—”

  “Tell me more about how much you love me.”

  “I love you more than anything else in the world.”

  “We’re being serious now, huh?”

  “Yeah.”

  I kissed the tip of his nose. There were little crinkles around his eyes as he smiled. “Okay.”

  “We’ll be okay,” he said. “It’s a month. Sooner, if Kevin’s wing heals. He carried us once. He’ll carry us again.”

  “But it’s racist—”

  “I don’t think that means what you all think it means,” he said. “And he’d do it, I think. For me. For you.”

  “Probably.”

  “And.”

  “And?”

  He hesitated, which meant I probably wasn’t going to like whatever he said next. “And… you know you can tell me anything, right?”

  I kept the small smile on my face, even though I felt cold. “I know.”

  His eyes searched mine, for what I didn’t know, but there was a flash of disappointment that quickly disappeared before it could turn into something more. “Good. I just… I know being a wizard means you’ll have your secrets, but if you ever need to tell me something, I’ll listen. No matter what.”

  And I opened my mouth to tell him everything, about Vadoma’s visions, about the Great White, about the star dragon and Myrin. In the end, maybe it would have made a difference. Maybe everything that came later would have turned out differently.