A Green Magic

by Alix Hadden

  "What a delightful thought," Ali said, pulling a face. "I'd have thought they'd have put them across the city, though, not all in this part of it, surely?" She shuddered. "God. Can't we talk about something else?"

  "Well, I guess if you find Jean we can wait to see what she says before we come up with any more theories," Kir said. "I dunno, though, I find myself feeling a bit worried about just sitting around waiting."

  "You just say that because you've had it in your damn house now," Ali said, somewhat unfairly, but Kir had to admit that she was fundamentally accurate.

  They both heard the key turning in the front door. "Leave it for now, anyway," Kir said, as Ali's flatmate Heather came in.

  "Hey there Heather," Ali said. "You're back early."

  "Took a half-day -- well, it was more like a third of a day, in the end, but there you go," Heather said, dumping bags on the counter. "Anyone want a tea, if I'm brewing?"

  "Yes please," Kir and Ali said at the same time.

  "Half day for shopping?" Ali asked, looking at the pile of bags.

  "Everyone's coming round to draw our own Tarot cards tonight!" Heather said cheerfully, as she filled the kettle.

  "Tonight?" Ali said. She looked a bit uncomfortable.

  "Mm, yes. That's okay, isn't it? It's just that this is the biggest living-room anyone has."

  "Uh," Ali said. "Yeah. Sure. Course."

  "And River said it would be nice to see you."

  "Right. Well. I'm going to be out, actually, visiting a friend." She looked over at Kir. "I'll go talk to Jean tonight, okay?"

  Kir nodded. He hadn't realised Ali was getting quite so irritated about Heather's meetups. Maybe he should ask her if she wanted him to have a word with Heather about it? But that sounded like the sort of thing where Ali would tell him she was perfectly competent to manage for herself and get irritable if he insisted.

  "So anyway," Heather was still talking, "I was in the art shop looking for card, and oil pastels -- I thought oil pastels would be nice, but, well, it's basically impossible to come out of an art shop without more than you intended to buy, right?"

  "Stationery," Ali agreed. "I see your point."

  Ali said she always found it a bit weird being around Heather, because Heather had an absolute fascination with the occult and no talent at all; plus nothing Heather was interested in had anything to do with the magic that Ali herself knew to exist. Kir had had the odd conversation with Heather himself when he was visiting, and could see what Ali meant -- it was very hard to resist the urge to tell her that it was nonsense, although if you did it didn't bother her in the slightest. But it wasn't like they could actually correct her.

  Still, whatever made her happy.

  "I should go," Kir said, as Ali and Heather cooed over notebooks. He didn't really see the point of paper, these days. "Ali, let me know about Jean, yeah?"

  He really hoped it wasn't death magic. He hated death magic.

  Kir's phone beeped as he was on his way out of Ali's house.

  Hey, sorry didn't reply sooner, super busy day. Hope yours was OK? x

  Kir bit his lip against the lurch in his stomach. Zach hadn't said anything about last night -- but then, the way he'd signed off, and he was asking how Kir was...Another message popped up while he was still trying to work out how to respond.

  Don't suppose you're at a loose end tomorrow evening? Got cinema tickets and my friend can't make it. x

  Kir's immediate response was "yes", before he thought to ask what it was that Zach was inviting him to see. A collection of arthouse short films at the South Bank, turned out to be the answer, which wasn't entirely Kir's cup of tea as a rule but...well. He was prepared to try it, he discovered, slightly to his surprise, if it meant hanging out with Zach again.

  "Dangerous," Ali opined when he mentioned it to her the following afternoon. "Going to see things you don't like just to get in someone's pants."

  "I am not just doing it..."

  "Yeah, cos normally you'd be all over a bill of experimental shorts," Ali scoffed. "You're confusing yourself with me. Hey, can I go instead?"

  Kir gave her the finger.

  "No, but, seriously. You're selling yourself falsely. Next thing you know it'll be two years down the line and you still haven't found a way of explaining that now you're onto a definite shag, you're not prepared to sit through the weird film where someone's burnt holes through some celluloid in order to get laid."

  Kir rolled his eyes. "It's fine. I'm going to tell him that..." He stopped.

  "That you're only in it for a shag? Good luck with that," Ali said, patting him on the arm.

  "No, no, hang on. I'll tell him that it's not my normal thing but I was curious enough to try it. Is what I'll say. And then if I don't like it I'll tell him that too."

  "On your own head be it," Ali sighed.

  Kir didn't like it much, as it turned out, although at least the advantage of a programme of short films was that any particular film only lasted a maximum of ten minutes.

  What he did like was sitting next to Zach, the feeling of Zach's knee pressing against his. The bit where Zach leaned into his shoulder. The bit where Zach squeezed his hand as they were walking out afterwards.

  "Fancy a drink?" Zach said, as they came through the bar.

  "God yes," Kir said with some fervency, and Zach laughed.

  "Not quite your thing?"

  Kir grimaced. "Well, it's always good to try new things, right?"

  Zach nudged him gently with his shoulder. "Sure, but you don't have to pretend to like it."

  "Ali told me that I absolutely shouldn't pretend anything of the sort," Kir said ruefully, then bit his tongue before he said any of the rest of what Ali had said. This was date two. He didn't expect to still be seeing Zach in two years time. He wasn't sure he even wanted to be seeing Zach in two years' time. This was just dating, and he wasn't about to suggest anything different.

  "Ali is correct," Zach said, before ordering them both a beer.

  "So," he continued, once they'd found a corner to squash into, "what did you think?"

  "Not really my thing," Kir confessed. "I think I probably prefer films with slightly more of a story, you know? But," and he was honestly curious, "I'd love to know what you thought."

  "I didn't like all of them," Zach said, with a shrug. "But, you know, you're never going to like everything in a, like, a compilation, right? Like music, or short stories, or something. It's always a bit hit or miss. But it's worth watching or reading or listening or whatever for the stuff that really is good. I like the serendipity of that." He grinned at Kir over the edge of his pint glass. "Like the serendipity of meeting someone new when you go somewhere new."

  Kir looked at Zach's mouth, slightly wet from the beer, and squirmed a little in his seat. He smiled back, slowly, and Zach's grin twisted a little at the edges, a certain smugness showing through.

  "And hey, it would be a boring world if we all liked the same things, right?" Zach said. "That's one of the nice things about getting to know someone, I think. Finding out what they like."

  The words were innocent enough, but the look in his eyes wasn't innocent in the slightest.

  "And other interesting things about them," Zach carried on. "Like the state of their kitchen, that sort of thing." His grin sharpened.

  Kir snorted a laugh. "Yeah, that's always relevant, right? Although, um, kitchens aren't always something one wants to discuss in the middle of a crowded bar, you know?"

  Shit, this was undoubtedly a bad idea. Zach wanted to ask questions, and it was too late for him not to know -- way too late, obviously -- but Kir didn't know how much he wanted to tell Zach about all of this. On the one hand, if he knew some of it already, it was probably too late to worry about how much he knew? They hadn't done more than cover the basics two nights before, after all. And, squirming at the bottom of his chest, he could feel the bone-deep doubt that Zach would want to have anything to do with him, in the long run, once he knew more about
magic. Or even if he didn't, come to that. But surely, surely it would scare him off faster, and though that had kind of been the original idea, Kir was starting to feel like he'd changed his mind...

  "Perhaps we would be better off somewhere more private, then?" Zach suggested, interrupting what was about to turn into a doozy of a thought-spiral. "Not just for the purposes of discussing the state of your kitchen, I mean."

  If Kir wasn't sure about the wisdom of talking about magery with Zach, the sensible thing to do would be to turn down the offer altogether, and take himself off home on his own.

  The likelihood of him doing the sensible thing, when Zach looked at him like that, with the memories of two nights before still clear in his mind, was basically zero.

  "I'd invite you back to mine," Zach said a bit apologetically, "but I have flatmates and really thin walls, so really..."

  "Mine is fine," Kir agreed, and they drained their pints and left.

  They were kissing the moment the lift doors shut in Kir's building. Zach's mouth was hot on Kir's, and his tongue was teasing Kir's, and Kir honestly no longer cared whether or not this was notionally a good idea. He just wanted Zach.

  Conveniently, Zach seemed to be on roughly the same page.

  They fell into Kir's flat, still kissing, and left a trail of clothes all the way along the corridor and into the bedroom. Kir wasn't quite sure where he'd kicked off his shoes, even, but somehow Zach had backed him up against his bed, and they were both down to T-shirts and pants, still kissing. Zach gave him another nudge, leaning in to kiss him harder, and Kir fell backwards onto the bed. Zach followed him down, aiming for the angle of his jaw, and Kir let his head tip backwards and his world narrow to the pressure of Zach's hot, wet mouth on his neck, the nip of teeth over the tendons at the side of his neck, his own breathing loud in his ears.

  Zach's fingers were spread across his shoulder, pressing in, and then Zach's hand had found his wrist, and was holding it down, very gently, to the bed. Kir gasped, and he felt Zach's mouth curve in a smile against his neck, and Zach's grip tighten on his wrist.

  Zach's weight shifted, and now both of his hands were holding down both of Kir's wrists against the bed, next to his hips, and Zach was moving downwards, his mouth hot through the thin fabric of Kir's T-shirt as he kissed his way down Kir's chest.

  He let go of one of Kir's wrists for just long enough to pull his briefs down, then Zach was kissing down the crease between Kir's leg and his balls, and Kir was half-sobbing already, wound tighter than he would ever expect from just a few kisses, wherever they might be placed.

  "Mmm," Zach said into his leg. "Stay still for me."

  Kir couldn't altogether control the jerk of his hips, and then jerked again as Zach bit him gently.

  "Stay still, yes? Uh-huh. Like that. You move at all," his voice was light, but there was an intensity behind it that only turned Kir on more, "and I'll stop."

  Then Zach had his mouth over Kir's cock, and it was all Kir could do to hold himself still under Zach's mouth and tongue, teasing him, engulfing his cock then pulling off again to nibble at the long vein down the underside.

  "Breathe, Kir, breathe," Zach said, affectionate amusement in his tone, and Kir took a long, gasping breath, then another one, realising that he'd been holding his breath.

  "That's it," Zach crooned, and swallowed Kir's cock down again.

  Kir could hear the wordless noise he was making, and he could feel Zach's moan of satisfaction around his cock, and Zach's hands still holding his wrists down, and his own orgasm gathering strength.

  "Zach -- I'm going to --"

  Zach sucked at his cock, hard, his tongue rubbing along the underneath of it, and Kir came into his mouth.

  "God, you're gorgeous," Zach breathed, letting go of his wrists as he came back up to kiss Kir. Kir tasted his own come in Zach's mouth, and his cock twitched again. Zach rubbed his own erection against the crease of Kir's hip, and moaned into Kir's mouth.

  "I can -- shall I --" Kir said, but even as he was saying it, Zach was shuddering and coming against his hip.

  They both drifted for a little, then Zach was stretching himself out onto the duvet, and curling round to look at Kir.

  "So," he said. "While we're both recovering a bit -- what can you tell me about, what did I call it? The state of your kitchen."

  Kir tried to cover his wince. He still hadn't decided how much he was prepared to tell Zach; how much he actually wanted to talk about this stuff at all. He hadn't had much chance to think about it since they got in, after all.

  "It's -- it's a bit complicated," he said, shrugging a shoulder.

  "Look, it's cool," Zach said, but his shoulders had tensed a little, and Kir could feel him drawing away. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. Like I said before, if there are rules..."

  Kir shook his head. "It's not that. I'm sorry, I didn't mean...it's just -- kind of hard to explain, if you can't feel it. Ali's better at explaining than I am." She'd had to explain to him, after all, although admittedly at the time he'd just discovered that he could feel it, and Ali had been trying to talk him down.

  "Ali in the coffee shop?" Zach said, his eyebrows climbing. "I knew you two were friends, but...she's like that too?"

  "Yeah," Kir said, then winced. "Though I'm not totally sure I should have told you, so don't go bringing it up with her til I've warned her, okay?"

  Zach rolled his eyes. "Yeah, cos I'm really going to wander into the coffee shop and say, three cappuccinos, an American, and by the way I hear you're a witch."

  "Mage," Kir corrected. "We call ourselves mages."

  "Whatever," Zach said. "Discretion, yeah, I get it. You did mention it before." He wasn't meeting Kir's eyes any more.

  Kir hunched into himself. "Sorry, I didn't mean...it's just not something I talk about much, to anyone who doesn't know about it already. And -- like I said the other day, weird shit happening in my kitchen, and Ali's cafe, and stuff, that's not normal."

  "Really?" Zach said sceptically. "Cos I've got to say, that was a bit worrying. And -- well, immediately afterwards I was a bit distracted, you know? I didn't think about it properly til afterwards."

  "Yeah," Kir said. "Honestly, though. I've never -- I've done weird things myself, in the past, messing around, trying stuff out. But something just happening like that. It doesn't happen that way." He heard his own frustration, and Zach was frowning at him.

  "But it did happen."

  Kir sighed. "Apparently so. Which -- well. I haven't got a good explanation. Ali and me, we're looking into it, or trying to, but we're not getting very far. But I promise. It's not normally like that. You're not, like, in danger being here, or anything." Kir wouldn't let someone else get hurt. He wouldn't. And he found himself really wanting to convince Zach that it would be okay. Really wanting to.

  "Okay, well, you're the expert," Zach said. "So I'm going to be all optimistic like, and take your word for it. Tell me instead, then, what you can do with it. What's the point of it?"

  "What's the point? Fuck knows. There isn't a point. It's just a thing. Like I said before, it's just a hobby, really. Might as well ask, what's the point of music, or climbing, or being able to, I dunno, write a report or something. It's just a thing that some people can do. It's just another way of interacting with the world."

  "God, I wish I could write a report by magic," Zach said, sounding heartfelt.

  "It's just a way of using power," Kir said.

  "Your own power?" Zach asked.

  "From plants, mostly. You need a bit of yourself to, um, to sort of mediate it, so if you do too much all at once, it's tiring. But mostly from plants."

  "Ah, so that's why your flat is a tiny jungle," Zach said, with a satisfied noise. "That makes sense." He hesitated. "Can you..."

  "I'd rather not," Kir said. "Certainly not right at the moment. We're still not sure what's going on with the mud-things, but it seems like it might be doing magic that's attracting them, or making them, or some
thing. So we're kind of -- avoiding doing anything, while we try to work it out."

  Zach shuddered. "God, fair enough. I could be doing without a repeat of that, fair enough."

  Kir really didn't want to answer any more questions about magery. He was feeling vaguely uncomfortable about the whole thing.

  "How about a repeat of something else?" he asked instead, and Zach's answering smile felt a lot better than his curiosity about magery did.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  "You here to pick Ali up?"

  It was Ali's co-worker Marcelo, busy clearing tables and chivvying the final customers out the door. Kir drained his mug of coffee.

  "Yeah. Want me to help out?"

  "God, no, stay put. You'll only get in the way." He grinned at Kir, softening the slight insult. "But I won't chase you out the door in that case."

  "Right you are," Kir agreed, and settled back into the armchair. "But honestly, if you want a hand...?"

  Marcelo rolled his eyes and piled more empty mugs onto his tray from the next table. "Just sit there and be decorative, hey?"

  Kir scowled at him, embarrassed, as Marcelo laughed and walked back to the counter.

  He was meeting Ali so that they could meet Jean and let her back in again after everyone else had gone home. Jean, apparently, hadn't been as reassuring as Kir had hoped when Ali'd gone to find her and ask about death magic. Kir had been hoping for a straightforward "no, no chance", but according to Ali, Jean seemed to think that it was entirely possible, and that the only way of confirming the matter one way or another was for Jean to come and do -- something. Kir didn't know much about death magic and wasn't at all sure he wanted to; but it would be unfair to leave Ali to do all the work, and anyway, one of the locations was his flat. He pretty much had to put up with this.

  "It's okay Marcelo, I'll lock up." Ali had just come up the stairs from the storage room, turning lights off as she went. For a moment Kir thought she looked worried, but perhaps it was just a trick of the shadows; by the time she was at the top of the stairs there was nothing different about her.