A Hyacinth for His Hideousness

by Tharah Meester

  Without saying a word and with a grim face, the waitress brought them their main courses and loaded the empty soup bowls on a tray.

  Sergei ravenously tore into his meat pastry which was floating in an excessive amount of dark sauce.

  By contrast, Vrila eyed his meal sceptically, though it looked and smelled good but, for some reason or other, didn’t appeal to him. Perhaps he was too depressed and disappointed that they weren’t getting anywhere at all. Nevertheless, he needed something in his stomach to restore his strength. At the present moment his sunken cheeks and bony fingers gave the impression, of being in a weakened condition.

  Gently, Hyacinth elbowed him against an arm and nodded toward the utensils.

  With a sigh, Vrila picked up a fork and knife and began to eat his main course. At last he stated softly: “As far as I’m concerned, we can speak with Fletcher.”

  “Good.” Sergei nodded tersely. “We shouldn’t put if off too long.“

  “He’ll get to hear our questions tomorrow,” Vrila agreed, then they became quiet while Hyacinth secretly examined his husband’s profile at regular intervals.

  Vrila was lovely, and Hyacinth no longer knew how he could have once considered that face to be grotesque.

  *

  Shivering, he rushed to the hearth to light a fire. Vrila was just closing the door behind them. And before he shut the curtains he’d hung for Hyacinth’s sake, he took another searching look outside.

  While Hyacinth busied himself with the logs, he tried to keep his jealousy in check. Sergei’s words had put him in a thoughtful mood and wouldn’t leave his head. Maybe he came to see someone in particular. The grin he displayed with those words, and the fierceness with which Vrila reacted to them, led Hyacinth to suppose there was some truth to the statement. But whom had his husband wanted to see so urgently that he dared to go among the people who mocked him and among those he never felt comfortable around, as was blatantly written on his face?

  It had to be another guy who had claimed Vrila’s attention for himself. So he had been in love? With whom? And what was even more important: was it over now? Or did he long for someone else when they were together?

  No, no, surely not. Vrila had confessed to desiring and liking him. Certainly his feelings for the other man had been extinguished. At least he hoped so.

  He cleared his throat faintly and banned those thoughts then let his gaze wander around aimlessly.

  With horror he noticed the patch of blood on the wall, and it became clear why Vrila had jerked when he’d touched the back of his head. “I’m sorry I hurt you. That wasn’t my intention,” he uttered in a weak voice and felt the muscles in his chest tighten.

  “Forget that.” With his hands in the pockets of his trousers, Vrila still stood at the entrance and appeared strangely irresolute.

  “Would it be so bad if we forgot the criminal case for the rest of the day and just simply relax?”

  “No, that would be… pleasant.”

  Meanwhile, the fire was lit and Hyacinth threw himself on the sofa, sighed softly then patted on the free space beside him. “Are you going to come here?”

  Vrila hesitated but finally sat down beside him. What was he so shy about? Did he think Hyacinth would want to talk about last night? He undoubtedly wanted to, but he’d keep his mouth shut. He needed to take care of that matter with deeds, not with words.

  Gently he shoved Vrila into the cushions and lifted his legs onto the sofa before lying down beside him. Then he pulled Vrila’s right arm around his body as though he meant to cover himself with it. He also spread the blanket over them as if to provide a shelter.

  His husband seemed confused. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m cold, and you have to warm me up.” He quoted himself with a smile.

  “You know I can’t do that.”

  “I know you can.” He embraced Vrila, laid his head on his chest and a leg around his legs.

  For a while, his husband only lay there stiff as a rod, until he finally relaxed and embraced him with his other arm. Hyacinth sighed with a sense of cosiness, and Vrila seemed to want to reward him for that by gently stroking him.

  It didn’t last long – only seconds – until he noticed he was rather aroused. Cool fingers buried themselves in his locks while other ones tenderly danced along his upper arm. He felt hot, and his breathing accelerated.

  The reaction to his caresses didn’t remain concealed from Vrila, and he drew him closer whereby a groan emanated from him when Hyacinth stroked his hard manhood with a thigh. That sound sent a tingling through him, and his lower body contracted. Vrila wanted him as well – how intoxicating.

  Gingerly he stroked his husband’s flat abdomen and finally encompassed his stiff length through the fabric. Again, Vrila moaned.

  Hyacinth raised his head, and Vrila lowered his so that their mouths could find one another for a kiss. The tingling in his stomach grew more intense and his arousal increased manifold when a warm tongue separated his lips and glided into him. His hold on Vrila’s cock became more unyielding and he felt dizzy with desire. The kiss that had begun so tenderly became wild, and they fumbled around on each other’s trousers to strip off the distracting cloth under the blanket.

  Once more Hyacinth closed his hand around Vrila’s manhood, let it glide up and down a few times, sensed its seductive pulsating and the heat which brought him to the point of glowing pleasantly. Its bulging tip was damp with desire. He spread the warm moisture its entire length while new drops came and Vrila began to pant excitedly into his mouth. His body was quaking from reticence, and Hyacinth looked forward in joyful expectation to that moment when Vrila would lose his self-control. His lover seemed to sense this. The next second, he tore himself loose and turned him around, pressed himself against his backside, and Hyacinth moaned in reply but, at the same time, tried to turn back over. He wanted to look Vrila in the eyes when they slept together. But his husband did not seem open to the idea. With a firm grip, he forced Hyacinth to remain as he was.

  “Why are you doing that?” Hyacinth asked with a trace of bitterness.

  “Please, it has to be. I can’t if you’re looking at me,” came Vrilas reply, and the despair in his gravelly voice caused Hyacinth’s chest to constrict. Both of them needed the intimacy of the other, but neither of them really knew how to deal with it.

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m hideous,” Vrila choked forth and took Hyacinth’s breath away with that idiocy which he actually seemed to believe.

  “You are not,” he contradicted softly. His husband was anything but hideous. He was warm-hearted and chivalrous and attractive and desirable and so much more…

  “Do you think I don’t know I disgust you? Perhaps you do like me a little, but that can’t distract from my repulsive appearance. I’m not blaming you. I’m very grateful to you for everything. Also for... this here.“ He stroked him gently along the side of his neck, which caused Hyacinth to groan with pleasure, even though he had to listen to such nonsense.

  Like him a little? Was his husband an even bigger idiot than he’d assumed? Grateful? What for? For the fact that Hyacinth was burning with desire, dammit?

  He didn’t know what he should say. It was clear to him that Vrila needed his affirmation, but what could he say to the man who even interprets his longing as a noble, self-sacrificing gesture? Vrila even misunderstood his lustfulness; what effect could his words have?

  Nevertheless, with a brittle voice he asked, “Why do you think I see you with the same eyes as everyone else?”

  “It doesn’t matter with whose eyes you look at me; it’s undeniable that I’m repulsive.”

  In the eyes of the man who is falling in love with you, you look entrancing. Oh Heavens, why couldn’t he come out and say it? It was the truth, and it came from the heart; so why didn’t the words want to pass through his lips? Vrila needed to hear them, and he wanted to say them, but he could’nt!

  He balled his hands into fists,
and his face contorted in suffering. The scars of his past penetrated deeper than he’d believed and forced him to change his tactic if he still couldn’t be totally honest at the moment.

  “I don’t find you repulsive. Of course, you’re obviously too stubborn to let yourself be convinced otherwise, so as far as I’m concerned, we’ll do it your way this one time. I want you too much to discuss things with you anymore right now, but don’t expect me to give in every time.”

  Vrila braced himself behind him, didn’t seem to have counted on such a confession and surely wondered whether he could believe him or not. And while he was still mulling it over, Hyacinth reached for his hand and brought it to his own cock to show him that he truly wanted him – urgently needed him.

  Obediently and with a loud inhalation, Vrila took hold of him and massaged him with intense movements which followed a very engaging rhythm. Hyacinth longingly pressed himself to Vrila and willingly presented his posterior to him.

  Gentle, oily fingertips loosened his opening in a seductive manner. He was so ready, was relaxed enough but certainly had absolutely no objections to caresses.

  When Vrila perceptibly entered him, he held his breath. Not because he experienced pain, but rather because his emotions overwhelmed him.

  Abruptly his eyes became wet, and he pressed his lips firmly together. All of a sudden, the beating of his heart was for Vrila alone.

  “Are you feeling well?” His lovable husband wanted to assure himself because he obviously sensed Hyacinth tensing up. At the same time he touched his cheek in a feather-light gesture, thereby expressing his concern.

  He was so attentive and cautious. How could he ever waste even one thought on believing he was cold-hearted? How could anyone so endearing believe himself to be abhorrent?

  “I’m well in the best possible way,” he whispered with a smile. He moved toward Vrila to feel him deeper inside and moaned when his length had penetrated him entirely.

  Vrila held him firmly in his arms and buried the sweet tip of his nose in Hyacinth’s hair. Hot breath brushed an ear, and he heard Vrila’s hoarse sounds of desire as he drew back to immediately ram into him again.

  His reticent thrusts had nothing of the character of their first encounter. It wasn’t that guilt-ridden satisfaction of his urges, tainted by a bad conscience and shame. Instead, it was an admission that Vrila liked him more than he would ever admit. Perhaps even more than he was aware of.

  Soft, thin lips kissed his neck, and he turned his head to the side to make it easier for his lover to reach it. His moans were muted by the cushion in which he buried his face when Vrila grabbed hold of him. His fingers clawed into the fabric of the sofa. His husband accelerated his tempo, and again he was seized by a pleasant light-headedness. The familiar scent of Vrila’s fragrance tingled his nose, suddenly reminding him again of that puzzling image in his mind. The soldier in the red jacket and the snug, white trousers complete with knee-high boots whose hair shimmered black in the moonlight. Fantasy merged with reality and suddenly it was Vrila whom he saw in a uniform and who cast a fervid glance at him under a black beret. That image aroused him so intensely he ejaculated with a moan into Vrila’s hand, and his cock pumped as if he’d been abstinent for an entire year. Almighty God...

  Vrila slid inside him once more and with a wolfish growl bit into his neck when he came. A thing that again drove Hyacinth’s passion to a climax before it slowly abated.

  Needing to be near him, he cuddled himself in Vrila’s embrace. He thought about his strange fantasies which would be embarrassing to him should he ever have to speak openly about them. After all, they were so ludicrous and so far from any authenticity, but there was something about them that made them difficult to forget.

  “Do you see, now you’ve actually managed to warm me up? I’m even rather hot,” he teased in a muted, delicate voice.

  His husband surprised him with a heart-warming laugh. “It makes me glad that I’m useful for something.”

  “I can assure you, you are that for me,” he whispered and hoped he’d sounded less sentimental than he felt.

  Vrila laid a cheek on his and sighed softly. “Thanks.”

  Hyacinth closed his eyes and caressed the arms embracing him. The fire in the hearth crackled. Meanwhile, outside it had begun to rain. All those sounds blended with Vrila’s ever steadier breathing had such a calming effect on him that he fell asleep.

  *

  When Vrila awoke – Good Heavens, he’d fallen asleep again?! – it was dark outside, and the rain had transformed into densely falling snow. Cautiously, so as not to awaken the lad, he released himself from his embrace and stood up. Then he looked down like a half-wit at Hyacinth. Heart pounding in his narrow chest, he gulped when he traced the line of those sweet, rosy cheeks. Without intending to, his lips curved upward. How could anything be as perfect as his husband?

  Mustering up all of his will-power, he was able to turn away, slip into his trousers and sponge off in the bathroom. As he thought about their having slept together, he simpered like a fool and was happy, as always, not to have any mirrors in the house. Under the best circumstances, he’d still be unwilling to look at his grotesque face. Certainly not when he grinned and showed his crooked teeth. He made himself shut his mouth and dried himself off with a fresh linen cloth.

  Then he stepped out into the living room and noticed Hyacinth had changed position and now claimed the whole sofa.

  The blanket had slid down to his hips, and his arms, like the locks around his head, were spread out and lay wildly to either side of his body. Vrila thoughtfully covered him and smiled inwardly. With a fleeting motion, he touched his endearing young husband’s chin and listened to a sigh come as a gratifying response to his gesture.

  As quietly as possible, he set about preparing dinner. He wanted to make something special but had, to his regret, hardly any idea about Hyacinth’s preferences. He’d have to change that soon. After considerable thought and a glance in the cupboard, he decided on sweet dumplings as most likely to please his husband. After all it struck him that Hyacinth, whenever he ate something between meals, preferred to get titbits from their supply of chocolate candies. Vrila had never actually seen him nibbling, but the number of candy bars had definitively diminished at an accelerated pace. The idea of Hyacinth secretly sneaking into the food cupboard to eat chocolates was an endearing one and affected him more intensely than it probably should have.

  While he prepared the dough and cut nougat into pieces as filling for the dumplings, he repeatedly glanced at his sleeping husband.

  Hyacinth was so pure and innocent. Despite his delicacy, he seemed masculine but he was still a young boy with a vulnerable soul and a fragile heart. If he wanted any chance of keeping his husband, Vrila would have to pay the greatest attention to both.

  He didn’t know what Hyacinth saw in him, but the relationship between them had changed. There was something. He’d have characterised it as friendship if he weren’t so terribly in love. The one didn’t exclude the other, but it was actually more than friendship. More than passion. More than anything he’d ever felt for a human being.

  With a sigh he concentrated on cooking and tried not to think too much about what he would do should the young man ever leave him.

  With plenty of plums, a lot of sugar and half a bottle of plum juice, he made a ragout which he refined with vanilla. He covered the pan and left the entire concoction on the heat to simmer.

  He used the time to set the table and add a few logs to the fire in the hearth to keep it blazing.

  He’d just returned to the stove when Hyacinth raised his head and rubbed his eyes before glancing around in confusion. “What smells so good?”

  “Our dinner,” Vrila replied with a gentle smile, happy that at least the aroma of the meal suited his husband’s taste.

  The young man sat up and combed through his disarrayed locks with his right hand. “Why didn’t you wake me up? Can I help you?”

  “Not nec
essary; I’m about finished.” He heated butter in a pan to lightly roast breadcrumbs. He rolled the dumplings in them as soon as they came out of the roiling water. Finally, he sprinkled them with sugar and bedded them on a sea of plum sauce complete with small ships made of fruit wedges.

  Meanwhile, Hyacinth had hopped into his trousers then washed his hands and face in the bathroom. His features still seemed furrowed. He sat down at the table, and his eyes glimmered when Vrila brought in the full plates then sat down beside him.

  “That looks delicious!” Hyacinth exclaimed and reached for his utensils. Wishing Vrila a good appetite didn’t escape his mouth until after he’d shoved the first bite between his well-formed lips.

  Vrila repressed a joyous grin. “Bon appétit.”

  With eyes closed and a smile of satisfaction, his husband sighed. Only then did he notice a creamy filling ooze from a dumpling, and suddenly his eyes opened wide. “Chocolate?”

  “Nougat,” Vrila clarified softly while observing his husband as he tried some of the cream and appeared to be elated. It was delightful to see Hyacinth so pleased with the meal. Very delightful.

  ”God, that is good. I hope there’s enough for seconds.”

  “Of course there is.” In the hope the young man would like it, he’d made plenty.

  To his surprise, Hyacinth bent toward him and kissed his cheek. “The cook deserves a kiss for such a perfect meal.”

  Vrila’s heart was racing, and he couldn’t stop himself from asking: “Is that an exception or a new rule you’re establishing here?”

  “We need to make that a definitive rule.” Hyacinth nodded eagerly, his eyes sparkling when they glanced at one another.

  “Then I intend to try even harder in future.” His voice cracked when he uttered what he only intended to think. Self-conscious, he turned his attention to his plate and took a small bite.

  “If it’s just a question of my kisses, that’ll be unnecessary. I’ll give them to you even without a service in return.”

  “Don’t be too generous.” Without parting his lips, Vrila smiled. ”You might make me want to wait on you hand and foot. Why should you waste a single kiss by giving it voluntarily?”