Service to the State: A literary seduction

by Barque, Starlight

  Returning his attention to their conversation, he heard Nav say, “It’s patently ridiculous. Absurd. Have you even read the work?”

  Galen rubbed his eyes, glancing sideways. He'd put together a selection from the Song of Songs for dinner that night and Navojan was incredulous at Galen’s explanation of the various religious interpretations of the text.

  “Yes,” said Galen indulgently. “As you recall, I suggested the work for tonight’s dinner.”

  Navojan continued, left eyebrow raised almost comically, as if he hadn’t even registered Galen’s comment.

  “The descriptions of the lovers. They're so explicit. Anyone with any sense can see it's a story of ordinary courtship and sex. Where's the religious metaphor? Did ancient Judeo-Christian religions revere physical pleasure?”

  Galen moved away, body rigid, foot tapping restlessly. He was quickly running out of patience. Thunder cracked in the distance.

  “How can you say that! Your sample of Milosian literature has scenes in it we’ll be experimenting with for months. Not that I’m complaining! Yet those romances symbolize something important, and the beautiful depictions of the lovers in the Tanakh are simply literal and ordinary? God, you are so arrogant sometimes!”

  Like my father.

  Nav placed a hand on Galen’s thigh and rubbed it gently. Galen felt a little foolish but couldn’t shake off his irritation.

  Navojan said mildly, “My book is an offering to the state. A giving over of one’s body and a sacrifice of individualism. The acts described in it are a letting-go of physical pleasure.”

  As if to demonstrate, Nav’s hand moved across Galen’s thigh, reaching under the elastic of his pants, stroking his cock and massaging his balls lazily.

  Galen pulled away, lips pursed, arms folded against his chest. Nav held his hands out, palms up in resignation but brow furrowed.

  “Galen. Sweetheart. You’re hardly a fan of religion. Why is this upsetting you to such a degree?”

  Silence. Nav stood and moved behind him. He reached his arms around Galen’s chest and pulled him in. He felt himself relax as he sank into Nav’s soft belly.

  “Tell me,” Nav said softly.

  He looked down. “It’s stupid.”

  Nav waited patiently, head resting gently on Galen’s shoulder, until he seemed willing to continue.

  “We never had much use for religion in my family. If my father had believed in a God, he certainly wouldn’t have been so quick to tamper with their work.”

  Navojan nodded. They’d talked a lot about his father’s research.

  “Did you know my mother was jewish?”

  Galen felt Nav’s arms tighten protectively around him. Galen almost never talked about his mother. He didn’t think he’d even told Nav her name.

  He lowered his eyes in embarrassment. How had it taken so long for him to share this?

  “She grew up in a fairly religious community in Northern Ireland. She was raised to respect their traditions. When she met my father, she was at university in Dublin. It was her first time away from home and she was living a very different lifestyle. By choice, of course. It was the only real taste of freedom she’d had in her short life and she loved it.”

  Galen paused and closed his eyes, leaning against Nav. He didn’t want to talk about her. He wanted to talk to her. Pain coursed through him and he barely registered Nav’s hands stroking his arms, breathing with him as they sat together silently.

  “I was raised with nothing but disdain for religion. My father came from a conservative Christian household and had left the instant he could. It took no time at all for him to complete medical school and land a job at a well-known research lab, and, well, targeted gene therapy was invaluable in developing new medical treatments. He was a natural. A star.”

  Just like I was.

  “My mother was in her second year of university when they met. She studied comparative theology, did you know that? I always thought it was rubbish. Indulgent, as my father put it. Useless.”

  He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

  “They argued about it all the time. My father was cutting, merciless. It was as if he wanted to cut out that part of her. I realized years later his behavior bordered on abusive.”

  No, not just bordered, Galen corrected himself silently. It was brutal.

  And I joined right in.

  “It was easy to convince me that my mother was foolish. Cute, but ignorant of the world. It felt good to put her down, an unspoken alliance with my father.”

  Shame flooded him at he remembered.

  “When she died, I traveled to see her old community. It was beautiful. It didn’t change my thoughts about God or religion, but the culture, the beauty was spectacular. My mother was spectacular. I’d never realized. Never loved her just as she was.”

  The realization hit hard. With great effort, he pushed it away and continued.

  “And when I returned to Alaska, I began to notice the signs of religion everywhere. I was unprepared for how thoroughly Judeo-Christian religion was embedded in the most basic workings of the medical profession. The residents come and go, but some of the nurses have worked here their whole adult lives. Many grew up volunteering at the clinic. How could they survive without something to believe in? People need to grasp onto something amid the natural disaster, with millions dead and dying.”

  Galen moved away, gathering his thoughts as he paced the apartment. He settled by the window. The wind was roaring and the occasional squall was fierce. They hadn’t had a storm this big in months. The sound of the rain was strangely reassuring.

  “It didn’t change my beliefs about the existence of a God. I still think it’s a ridiculous notion.”

  Navojan walked to the window to join him and Galen winced at his expression. He knew that Nav had never quite sorted through his feelings about Milosian beliefs. The Swaizi temple he attended in childhood was notoriously conservative and xenophobic.

  Galen gave Nav an apologetic look as their eyes met.

  “I suppose I’m jealous. Most of the nurses haven’t had an easy life; far from it. But I envy the comfort they find in their faith. And even you-”

  Navojan looked at him questioningly and Galen hesitated for a moment.

  “It scares me how deep your devotion to home is. Even with the pain and exile, you would give up everything to return.”

  This clearly wasn’t what Nav had expected.

  Galen said tentatively, “I know if you had to choose between that and me, you’d leave me. I...I can’t go through that again.”

  Nav opened his mouth and then closed it again, evidently unsure of how to respond.

  A flash of lightning was visible, followed so quickly by a boom of thunder that it couldn’t have been more than half a mile away, and a large tree branch snapped and fell to the ground.

  Nav flinched: he still wasn’t used to the worst of the storms. They gave him nightmares. Galen reached for Nav’s hand automatically and ran circles over the back of it reassuringly.

  They watched in silence until Nav eventually spoke.

  “I wouldn’t worry, love. It isn’t as if Milosia is waiting to welcome me back with open arms.”

  Galen flinched at the pain in his words. He turned to face Nav, stroked his face and kissed him softly.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, and he meant it.

  Nav rested his head on Galen’s shoulder and murmured, “I love you. I'm not going anywhere,” and somehow, for the first time, Galen believed it.

  They stood together for a time, arms intertwined, watching the trees sway in the storm.

  Galen finally disentangled himself to add wood to the fireplace, and Nav found them some popcorn and more scones.

  Galen poured them a couple of glasses of lavé, snuggled up to Navojan on the couch and projected a movie on the video screen. Nav burrowed into his shoulder and closed his eyes. Perhaps later they could experiment with the more literal interpretations of those religious texts. />
  * * *

  Later that evening, Galen reappeared in the living room wearing a long, flowing, wine-colored robe.

  Navojan raised his eyebrows, surprised at the wardrobe change. It flattered Galen, but it was a very odd choice for the evening.

  “Galen? Is that a new style for you? I thought we talked about making new fashion choices together.”

  He’d expected Galen to laugh, but instead he gazed at Nav intensely. Nav’s heart beat a little bit faster. Galen held out a sheer, white piece of lingerie and said, “I want you to wear this tonight. Just this.”

  He was completely serious. Navojan took the garment in his hands, fingers running over it. It was soft and silky, pleasing to the touch.

  “Could you have found something a little more revealing?” Nav quipped. “After all, there must be at least an inch of skin that’s still hidden.”

  “Why don’t you show me where?” Galen teased back. “I’m sure we can take care of it.”

  A little self-conscious, he undressed, feeling Galen’s eyes on him. They were so intense.He could hear his breathing go shallow, but his gaze never wavered.

  Why was he nervous? It wasn’t as if it were the first time Galen had seen him naked.

  Galen spoke, softly, reverently.

  “Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth—for thy love is better than wine.”

  What?

  “Draw me, we will run after thee; the king hath brought me into his chambers; we will be glad and rejoice in thee, we will find thy love more fragrant than wine!”

  Galen’s lips met his for a long, sweet kiss and Nav was moved by the tenderness of the gesture. He melted into the touch until Galen pulled away to continue his recitation.

  “Thy cheeks are comely with circlets, thy neck with beads. We will make these circlets of gold with studs of silver.”

  Galen cupped his face, kissing down his jaw, pulling him closer and lightly sucking on the ridges on his neck, and Navojan shivered as he yet again moved away.

  “While the king sat at his table, my spikenard sent forth its fragrance. My beloved is unto me as a bag of myrrh, that lies betwixt my breasts. Thy lips are like a thread of scarlet, and thy mouth is comely; thy temples are like a pomegranate split open behind thy veil.”

  Galen inhaled deeply, taking in Nav’s familiar musk, and leaned down to kiss his chest, tracing lazy circles over Nav’s belly with his tongue, where the scales reddened and lightly pulsed. Navojan groaned as Galen pulled back yet again.

  Nav opened his mouth to make a teasing remark about the virtues of religion, but it died on his lips as he regarded Galen’s open, trusting face. This wasn’t religion. It was a declaration of love.

  “My beloved is mine, and I am his, that feedeth among the lilies. Until the day breathe, and the shadows flee away, turn my beloved, and be thou like a gazelle or a young hart upon the mountains of spices.”

  At these words, he turned to Navojan, removed the negligee, and wordlessly led him to the bed. Nav tried to speak, but Galen put a finger over his mouth, laying him down, and said in his ear, “Hush. Lie still.”

  He breathed deeply as Galen moved on top of him, kissing him deeply. He pulled back and kissed up his jawbone to his ear, teasing his tongue over the lobe, and kissed down his neck, sucking and flicking his tongue slowly across Navojan’s collarbone, lingering over each ridge.

  Navojan began to squirm, and Galen gently pushed him down, softly reminding him to be still.

  He moved down Nav’s body to circle his nipples, flicking his tongue over them, gently sucking, and buried his face in Navojan’s chest, breathing deeply, moving so slowly it was almost unbearable. His fingers traced lines over the chest ridges, stroking and squeezing and occasionally pinching until Nav was panting.

  Galen raised his head and his hands found Navojan’s stomach, caressing gently, nails raking over the bottom. He moved around Nav to caress his bottom, achingly slowly, and still with infuriatingly gentle strokes. Nav felt his tail being pushed in and out of his ass slowly, digging in gently, almost imperceptibly.

  “Behold, it is the litter of Solomon; threescore mighty men are about it, the mighty men of Israel. They all handle the sword, and are expert in war; every man hath his sword upon his thigh, because of dread in the night.”

  Navojan took in a sharp breath as Galen leaned over to caress his thighs, moving his hands to handle Nav’s cock, squeezing, stroking, softly running his hands over its length. He squeezed the balls, hard, then let go, and Navojan suddenly found it hard to breathe.

  “I have gathered my myrrh with my spice; I have eaten my honeycomb with my honey; I have drunk my wine with my milk. Eat, O friends; drink, yea, drink abundantly, O beloved.”

  Galen took Navojan in his mouth, licking and sucking until Nav moaned loudly, almost whimpering as Galen once again pulled away.

  Galen lifted up his robe and lined up his entrance with Navojan’s swollen cock. Nav saw the plug as he removed it; Galen had come prepared. Galen rode Navojan fast and hard. Nav gasped until he cried out in pleasure.

  Galen shuddered as his own orgasm overtook him and he spoke:

  “My beloved put in his hand by the hole of the door, and my heart was moved for him.”

  About the Author

  Starlight Barque has been dabbling in the creative arts for most of her life. When not writing gay erotic fiction, she can be found tinkering with her impressive collection of musical instruments, stopping to pet strange dogs on the street, and pondering tidbits on tumblr such as “when robots take over the world, will the revolution be fought in captchas?“ She plays a mean game of classic 80s Mario Brothers, binge-watches science fiction like a pro, and is hopeless at Cards Against Humanity.

  Service to the State is her first work for Carnation Books, and she is hard at work on a new f/f apocalypse romance.

  About Carnation Books

  Carnation Books is a fandom-powered publisher of the best in inclusive fiction. Founded in 2016, Carnation Books is at the forefront of new author discovery. Visit carnationbooks.com to learn more, and to sign up for our story-filled newsletter!