by May Peterson
Hei seemed to hum with interest, gasping delicately as he took in my room. My home contained only about three rooms, separated by one creaky door and a heavy curtain. A firepit that I’d worked into a makeshift hearth rested under a chute that functioned as a chimney. Dusty bits of glow-stone lit the walls above and between the slim windows, with drapery I’d set up to conceal their lights.
In the center of the room sat a cloth-shawled table with low cushions, and a step up onto a dais that led to the bed. It was a lumpy, shrouded affair, enclosed away from all windows and doors by space and shadows. Carpets adorned the stony floors, and the flash and drabble of my various paltry possessions were scattered here and there.
“This looks so...comfortable.” Hei began running his fingertips along the walls, windowsills shaded by fabric, the glistening bead lights. He shifted his pouch and deposited it on the table. “How long have you lived here?”
It was an innocent question, but my face was flaming nonetheless. Sometimes when Hei looked at me, it seemed like he wanted to open me up, devour me. I both feared and greatly desired that hunger in him. “Couldn’t be much more than a year. I found it a few months after I came here and cleaned it up. Most of the bird-souls either stay in the aeries, or find high places to take over. Well, this one is mine.”
Before that, I’d been in Umber’s aerie, with his flocks of crow-souls. Those days were still an animal blur. Making my own home had almost been like recovering a memory, in a way. I felt more me. More defined.
Hei drew closer, his posture tilting as if to open up to me, bare his collarbone and throat. I’d have found it flirtatious if not for how arcane his actions seemed, even now. “So you’ve only been here a few years? That is, since you died?”
He asked this without flinching. So many mortals seemed unprepared for the reality that all moon-souls had already died once. “It runs together, honestly. Drink?” I gestured at the cabinet near the table. His eyes widened slightly, and I realized what it might sound like. “Tea, I mean. Or whatever you like. Trust me, I didn’t bring you here to ply you with wine.”
That may have sounded a bit too guilty. Kadzuhikhan’s shadow seemed to loom over me, charging me with my own crimes of omission.
But Hei’s interest flourished into wry amusement. “Tea is fine.”
Preparing would give me time to settle my mind. But I nearly jumped out of my skin from anticipation when Hei’s presence encroached gently upon me.
“Sorry, I...” He sounded amused. “Would you mind if I touched it?”
My eyes widened, and then his meaning came through. One of my wings. I was so used to them being tucked behind me while I moved through my home, dragging on the ground in their familiar ways. I flexed one out slightly from where it was folded against my mid back. “I, uh, don’t mind.”
Then the heat of his hand stroked against my feathers, running down the center. The wave of sensitivity it brought was...unexpected. It wasn’t unusual for the hands of lovers to touch my wings, with curiosity or desire. I even liked having the bases massaged, occasional biting of the tips during sex. But it’d been some time—and the careful way he brushed the ends was like a warm breath ghosting down my neck. I had to restrain a flinch for fear that he’d stop.
Hei hummed to himself faintly. “Forgive me for asking, but how did you die?”
I grinned. Going right for the jugular, eh? “Honestly, I couldn’t tell you, as I don’t remember. And no one’s ever told me.” I remained turned, a thrill pacing up my back as his fingertips did something I couldn’t describe. “I do know I’m not originally from here. Not that Serenity has many people actually born in the city. I think I must have had family from an Ashaic community. I like to think maybe my death had religious significance, but of course then I’d have to figure out exactly which religion I would have practiced. I can think of at least four traditions observed by the Ashaic community in Serenity alone.” Midouan’s face crossed my mind like a stripe of light. It was nice to think maybe I could have been a Sabyoë mystic, but my bones didn’t seem to have taught me what hers had. “For all I know I was run over by a cabbage cart. I find myself wondering what I believed, or what holidays I celebrated, or what my parents were like, more than how I died.”
This was skirting perilously close to yet another precipice, but keeping everything from him would only slow my descent, not stop it. If he wanted to know how I’d come here, only one piece of that puzzle was available to me—Umber.
The kettle whistled for my attention, snapping the bubble of tension that’d been ballooning round us. Hei’s hand withdrew, leaving an imprint of absence. I shrugged, turning sheepishly to silence the kettle. “Wouldn’t do to let the whole place burn down. Would you like to sit?”
I poured the water over oolong leaves, letting the smoky darkness unfurl before dispensing it into cups. Hei accepted one with a nod. “I’m not from here either. Obviously. I grew up in Vermagna, capital of Portia. An orphan. I suppose I wonder about my birth parents too.”
He said this as if it were also obvious, orphanhood as mundane a fact about him as his age. Maybe it was. Maybe it was for him like me and my amnesia. An almost physical dimension of his life, impossible to ignore but with nothing to be said about it. I settled my wings about me and sat on the cushion opposite him. “How long have you been staying in Serenity?”
It was a calculated question, but seemed better than jumping right into “who are you and why are you here?” I kept my eyes down, glancing through the steam of my cup to see him considering.
“For a while.” He breathed this out on a sigh, suggesting that his time here had been a burden. “A few weeks.” Then his eyes flicked up, lips twisting. “I did say I’d tell you why I was here. As much as I hate to disappoint, it’s a pretty ordinary reason. I’m looking for someone. Well, two people. And one of them...she’s been a challenge to locate.”
I inhaled this eagerly, trying to take apart its meaning. Looking for someone. And he’d said she. A lover? A friend? Family?
He didn’t question my silent reaction. A wry smile crossed his face, and he produced a smooth stone from under his shirt, hanging on a brass chain. “This is something I was given to help me find them. It’s blessed. Meant to shield me, I suppose.”
I frowned. Somehow, the stone tangled itself in my senses on sight, as if it should mean something to me. It looked like no more than a polished river rock. “Has it helped?”
He tossed one shoulder casually. “I think that question remains until after I find my people. If I do. This is a big city.”
That it was. Sympathy careened through me, softening all my inner images of him. Unless he really was some mastermind of a liar, or a witch who was unwinding my mind, it seemed impossible that he could be anything other than another lost soul. At least he knew people were there to seek out. “I hope you find them.” This escaped me with force that shocked me, that I hadn’t known I possessed. “I hope you find both of them.”
Find them and get the fuck out of here. Away from the slowly solidifying underworld of having nothing but lack. Like Hei had said, losing your loved ones was the real tragedy. Even if what swept them away was an amnesia of your own choosing.
Your own choosing in theory, anyway.
Horizons seemed to open up in his eyes, revealing the storm-filled distance of whatever story he wasn’t telling, of the path that had brought him here. His youthfulness emerged from his features all at once like strobe light, emphasizing how mortal and soft he was. This explained how he could hold such mystifying calm and such fragility at once, seeming to embody both—it was desperation. He was singular, small, lonely. And he had no choice but to keep looking.
Hei dropped the pendant on his chest. And began to slip off his jacket, eyes trained on me.
I licked my lips, an impulse shooting into view. “Wait.”
His eyes widened. “Ah—did I—?”
/>
“No.” A quick shake of my head. “You did nothing wrong. It’s just...” My mouth was drying. “I would like to undress you. If you wish.”
He didn’t move, fingers still tight on his jacket collar, except for the slightest parting of his lips. It was almost heady to watch. Especially when a hot blush swept over his face. Then his shoulders relaxed, hands falling to his sides, as if inviting me.
I trembled as I stood up, my wings almost knocking over the kettle. My heart all but leapt through my skull. I really needed to calm the fuck down. “Er. Right.” I gestured at the wayward wing. “I better put these away if we’re going to. Well. Roll around on the bed.”
Except I didn’t want to do it in front of him. Even moderate changes between half-shape, bird-shape, and human-shape could be gruesomely...physical. I’d about puked my guts out after each transformation for the first two weeks. It was easier now, but not something that would set the mood.
His gaze hovered over me, leaving traces of heat. “Would it be strange to ask that you keep them? If it wouldn’t make everything too unwieldy.”
A smirk rose to my face, and I squashed it. More of his love for the “angel” mystique? “As long as you don’t mind me staying on top the whole time, it’s no problem. I’m flexible, just awkward to be on my back with wings.”
It was hard to keep my tone casual, light. But when he stood, breath attaining speed, everything open to me—fuck casual. I crossed to him in the time it took to discard my thoughts. He never broke eye contact. My palms feeling his shoulders, the lines of those gorgeous arms. I leaned in and ran my tongue along the slope of his neck.
The rising hitch in his breath locked me in. Maybe I shouldn’t do this. Maybe I was falling too fast.
God, his collarbones were so beautiful.
The jacket slipped off easily. The thin shirt underneath would tear if I dared, but that seemed like too much of a liberty. I just wanted him naked. Quickly. As before, the sudden presence of his sleek, warm skin was almost shocking. As if I couldn’t quite catch up with the fact that I wasn’t just looking at him anymore, imagining pounding him into a mattress. He was here, under my hands, letting me peel off his outer layers.
Pulling the shirt’s folds open, my touch grazed over the smooth stone. It struck me with a strange roughness, throbbing, as if I’d just run a fingertip over a hot coal. I squinted and touched it again.
“It’s hot.” Or so cold that the two sensations were indistinguishable. “Like silver.”
Hei’s wry smile wavered on apologetic. “I guess the blessing is real, then.”
An object hallowed by a bear-soul—at least a bear-soul with a powerful enough virtue—could be dangerous to a moon-soul, a true sacred bane like silver or the sun. This stone seemed hallowed indeed, if a mere touch felt like a burn. But it wouldn’t harm me if I was careful. It might get in the way, but it seemed far too presumptuous to ask him to remove it. And he didn’t offer. Well, I’d fucked under stranger conditions. All that mattered now was that his chest and arms were uncovered, fabric sliding away like a memory.
He clung to me, responding to the way I moved. If it’d been more practical, there may have been something pleasing about encircling him with my wings. Stripping him, piece by piece, for only my eyes to see. As it was, the cool air of my room was private enough. His arms were angled under the base of my wings, sending waves of electricity up to the tips. When he pawed at my shirt, I let him pull it off just as easily as I had his—thankfully, my clothing had to be ready to be slipped off over massive dove wings.
With so much of our skin touching, it felt like my awareness of him expanded past my senses, surrounded me. Half my hand slid over his waist, just feeling the upper curve of his buttocks. The difference in our skin tones was eye-catching—my deep brown, his warm tan. His nipples were firm, tight, and brushed faintly against my abdomen as I shifted him. His pupils looked blown wide, another way he opened to me. He was trembling gently under my touch, which was strangely satisfying, endearing. It made me want to hold him, enclose him. The thrum of his heart was palpable against mine.
Every line of his body said he was waiting for me, asking me to take initiative. Part of me wanted to let him wait a few moments longer, just to take in his eager, shaking exposure. Then, without transition, we were kissing. And I let it be rough, let my tongue probe him, let my lips bruise his. To suggest a taste of what I had to give, silently ask if he wanted more. The eagerness of his kiss back said he was more than ready.
He didn’t seem displeased at all when I lifted him up, cradled him to my chest and continued to ravage his mouth.
There had to be a way out of the labyrinth of Serenity’s legacy, the corridors of empty longing and loneliness. Even if it was only for him and his lost loves. It was probably too late for me. But I’d be damned if oblivion was all I had to show for my death.
I dropped him on the side of the bed, drawing a shocked gasp from him. The flush ran down his neck, seemed to bloom above his waistline. He panted, already shiny with sweat, arms spread and legs curled up slightly. Now he seemed unable to look at me, eyes half closed as I examined him.
Mm. There was a titillating thought. I kneeled over him, first pressing a softer trail of kisses to his collarbone. “Is this good? Is this what you want?” My voice was low, edged.
He nodded swiftly, as if afraid I’d stop if he didn’t. I hovered closer, letting threads of my hair fall down and caress his skin. He remained still, letting my hands and eyes explore the naked expanses on display. This. This was what I needed. His responses were clarifying for me like a newly learned language—a flow was steadying between us. He’d tell me if I did something he didn’t like. Meanwhile, he leaned into my touch, all the ways I directed him. Carefully, I slid him to the edge of the bed and turned him onto his belly. His eyes widened a bit, looking back as if to ferret out my intent. But I only smiled, wordlessly getting him in position.
Shoes off. Mm. Even his feet were attractive. Tender and brown like the rest of him, and I rubbed the arches before proceeding. With sharp, methodical motions, I opened his trousers and began yanking them off.
His body tensed reflexively, and I pressed a hand to the small of his back to soothe him. It was just all coming off, his underpants sliding down practically of their own accord. Suddenly a completely naked Hei was kneeling on my bed, enflamed with some mix of embarrassment and arousal, eyes closed against my attention. Now that I could see him better, and we were in no danger of being interrupted, I wanted to take my time. The shapely curves of his backside were even better than his arms. Thighs slim but hard, a slender waist, rounded buttocks, with the faint flare of deeper color where his loins met. On impulse, I playfully slapped one buttock, firm but careful. He yelped minutely, then bit his lower lip. Mm. Fuck. That was good.
I ran my tongue up his spine, from right above his ass to the center of his back. His breath set my time in hot, damp beats. I nipped gently then pulled away, rubbing his back. “All right. Just lie down there. Relax as much as you can.”
He nodded, stretching out. Some of the tension visibly left his body, but he was still tight as a violin string. Prone, backside up, was just about the perfect position.
I tucked a hand around each knee and maneuvered him so his legs spread. He took the cue and pushed toward me slightly, reorienting his legs. It felt like opening a clamshell, slowly uncovering his most private region. I’d fucked there already, come there, even if we hadn’t gone as far as we wanted. Now nothing was in the way.
Quite literally. I had all but turned him upside down, his bare ass next to my face. This was amazing. He had a tight, trembling little hole that was delicately colored, offset by the other tones in his skin. Between the slick muscles of his buttocks, that spot looked like a jewel. A faint line shot from it down his perineum, smooth and prominent. His balls were tightened against his body, maybe with the intensity of being inspe
cted like this. I could devour him right now, lick open his defenses and bring him to a high, squealing climax. Hei coming undone on my bed, naked and trembling, was a mental image I needed to save for the next time I was alone and horny. But for now, other plans had to come first.
I pressed myself against his back, whispering a quick “You’re fucking beautiful” into his ear. Didn’t want him to feel anxious at my examinations. Then I was rolling him over, enjoying how pliant he was to my movements, like we were dancing. His eyes were closed, entire face bright with a flush. It honestly aroused the hell out of me, seeing his nostrils flare with each breath. His shuddering chest, pebbled nipples. The way he held himself still, remaining vulnerable to me.
I found my place between his legs again, mouthing up his perineum. Gasps rose from him as if I were squeezing them out. I kissed up the center of his balls, licked the base of his cock. It was already glistening with an eager little bead at its tip.
All right. One more impulse to indulge. I tasted that drop of pre-come, lips sucking around his head. His voice rose suddenly. “Ah! Ari! Wait, are you really—”
Before he could finish, I rolled my lips over him, taking the full length of his erection right to the back of my throat. It couldn’t have been more than two seconds. Hei all but arched off the bed, one hand seizing my hair. He practically shouted, the series of cries sounding involuntary, naked, overwhelmed with pleasure. I sucked air, tightening the seal of my lips, and pulled back up to the end. One more plunge down, and Hei shuddered again.
“Please!” He was acute with moaning. “Please, please stop, I—I might—”
That close already? He was adorable. I pulled off immediately, a string of saliva stretching from his cock head. “Sorry. I was teasing, but don’t want to finish too soon.” But I kept touching his balls, rolling them gently in my fingers. “Tell me how you want it. I like to hear you say it.”