“What you have given them is beyond anything they have ever dreamed of receiving,” Johann assured him.
This statement was very true, and the residents of Stallenwald were hugely grateful for what they had received. They heaped The Brass Farthing with food, wool and other goods, and above all filled the balloon to the brim with aether straight from the mountain. They prepared a feast for the pirates in the mayor’s house, where the beer and wine flowed and food heaped so high they could never eat it all in a thousand days, let alone a single evening. They had a dance on the Platz afterward, all the young girls giggling and dancing with the male pirates, looking curiously at the ladies from the ship. The village men looked more than curiously at them, though Johann was fairly certain Molly and Olivia were more interested in each other than other men.
Johann’s parents offered him space in their home for the evening, but he declined, going with Cornelius to the alcove they’d made of their part of the sleeping quarters on the Farthing. He’d promised to bring the entire crew by in the morning so his parents could have the pleasure and the bragging rights of giving the village heroes breakfast before their long journey. The night, though, he wanted to spend with Cornelius in his arms.
“You keep smiling.” Cornelius smiled too as he ran fingers over Johann’s chest, teasing the edge of the door to his clockwork heart. “I didn’t know your chest could puff out so far.”
Johann was proud. “My village has so little. The mountain belongs to the emperor, so we get no money for the aether, and it’s all the resource we have. You and Félix have made Stallenwald the most modern village this side of Salzburg, with your improvements. We lose all our men to the mines or the war, and there isn’t much to life here. They will speak of this day for one hundred years.”
Cornelius settled onto Johann’s shoulder with a sigh. “The world shouldn’t be this way. The village should have so much more to talk about than the day some pirates encouraged them to illegally siphon aether and gave them rudimentary electricity. We’ve made so many wonderful advancements and discoveries. We have so many more to make. I hate that we waste so much money and so many lives in war.”
Johann kissed him, first to soothe him and then simply because kissing him was such a pleasure. They made love quietly, then slept the sleep of kings until Heng woke them.
Throughout breakfast, Johann tried not to think about how this might be the last time he saw his family again. He told himself he’d been lucky to have this grand moment to play hero in his village, to hear his father tell him he was a good son, to eat his mother’s wurst once more. Still, when he made his goodbyes, he was overwhelmed, unable to speak lest he let loose the torrent of emotion in his heart.
“No tears,” his mother told him as she hugged him tight. “You came home to us once. You will come again.”
It was a lovely sentiment, even if Johann knew it was little more than that. Still, when the Farthing rose into the sky and Johann stood on deck, waving down at the cheering villagers below, he kept his mother’s words close to his heart, letting them help carry him into the clouds.
Chapter Twelve
Cornelius had never been to Naples.
He’d been to Genoa once when he was very young. His mother had performed onstage, then entertained several gentlemen in her suite, and Conny’s nanny had sat with him on a balcony as he watched people go by. All he remembered from that visit was the sound of music on the street, the red cap of a man on a bicycle, and the way his nanny covered his ears whenever the sounds of sex from his mother’s room were particularly obscene. He assumed Naples would be like his hazy memories of Genoa, only bigger.
It was, it turned out, much bigger, and shockingly, deliciously cosmopolitan. Naples was the international hub of the Mediterranean, a place where the parts of the world that managed to stay largely out of the conflicts between France and Austria did business with one another. There were a startling number of Americans on the streets, which Conny found terribly interesting, as he’d only ever met a handful of them in his life. Even the fancy ones were a bit rugged and straightforward. There were plenty of Spaniards too, refugees from Cornelius’s father’s invasions. The English were everywhere, because of course they were allied, loosely, with the Italians, partnered out of a mutual desire to not be ruled by France’s iron fist or drafted into military service by the Austrians. There were some Turks as well, and North Africans—the whole world seemed to be happening in Naples.
And the technology! Félix said Naples had not only a street of tinkers, but a thriving district, so grand it had its own food shops and cafes.
“It’s like its own little world.” Félix’s eyes glittered, and he smiled as he spoke. “In fact, the district’s name, ingegnopoli, means tinker-town. Plenty of tinkers never leave ingegnopoli, living above their shops or somewhere in the district, though the wealthier ones have villas just outside of the city. Suppliers deliver whatever is required and often skulk about the streets hawking their wares, competing with each other to offer the best price.”
Conny couldn’t imagine such a life. “Is there a black market trade too, like in Calais?”
“No need for one. They have free trade with Africa and the Americas, which means their worst prices are ones we didn’t dare to dream of in France. My contacts have told me that lately Arabs have been giving away barrels of their crude oil, offering it to any tinker willing to find a use for one of their most plentiful commodities.” He smiled as if this were a funny joke. “I doubt they’ll get anywhere. Who wants to play with tar when they have more work in aether than they can finish in a lifetime? Not to mention the new electronic tinkering. The Italians love their clockwork, both the practical and the luxurious applications. Body enhancements, daily life assistants, and of course whatever clockwork fashion fad has struck them at the moment.”
Cornelius couldn’t even begin to wrap his mind around all of it. It seemed as if he’d fallen into a dream.
The one downside to Naples was there was no pirate port, which meant The Brass Farthing had to be inspected stem to stern and assigned a tariff for its goods, which after Calais were plentiful. Captain Crawley balked at this until Félix assured him matters would be taken care of. Indeed, after the tinker had a lengthy discussion with the dockmaster, a city official made an at-best-cursory glance of the hold, assigned them a tepid docking fee and bid them have a pleasant stay. At least, this was what Heng reported him to have said. He, Crawley and Félix were the only ones who could speak Italian.
Félix arranged for a wagon to carry their things and the delegation of pirates accompanying him to his final destination. This group included Cornelius, Johann, Valentin, Crawley, Heng, Olivia and Molly.
“You’re welcome to stay at Signor Rodrigo’s as long as you like,” Félix assured them as they rode together in a carriage behind their wagon. “He lives in a great villa on the Milani estate just outside of the city. He has more than enough room. And once I introduce you to him and explain our situation, you can park the airship there after you’ve done whatever trading you might like to do in town. His father gave me most of my training as a tinker, and we were friends while I worked in his father’s shop. We’ve had dealings off and on over the years since then as well. He gives me supplies I need, and I repay him in other ways when I can.” Félix settled into his cushion and pushed back the curtain to watch the beautiful Italian scenery go by after sparing a smile at Cornelius. “Wait until you see the Milani family tinker shop. Though I’ll probably have to bring smelling salts for when you see his personal laboratory in their shed at the villa.”
The tinker district was several kilometers from the docks, but once they arrived, Conny saw it was every bit as grand as Félix had hinted it would be. The buildings were all painted bright colors of varying shades, which Félix explained dictated what type of tinker shop it was. Red for tinker-surgeons, blue for tinker-engineers, green for tinker-mechanics, yello
w for tinker-general. The new electronic tinkers had adopted a faint lavender tint, and there were only two Conny saw on the entire ride through the district. Between these brightly colored buildings were smaller terra cotta and tan buildings housing restaurants, cafés and even a few grocery stores. Everything was neat and tidy, and the streets bustled with customers and tinkers alike.
“This is the most wonderful place in the world!” Cornelius all but had his head out the carriage window, trying to take everything in. “Master Félix, how did you ever leave such a city?”
“Duty called me.” Félix pointed at a large complex at the end of a street, a single building painted a stripe of every tinker-assignment color. “That’s the Milani shop ahead. A different master tinker runs each section, but they all answer to Signor Rodrigo. Ah, and there he is, waving to us from the curb.”
Rodrigo Milani was a giant of a man, broad-shouldered with a thick mustache smoothed with pomade and curled delicately at each end. He lifted great bushy eyebrows and called out joyously in Italian when Félix approached him, and the two exchanged three faire la bise before embracing and repeating the cheek kisses once more. Cornelius, once introduced, received a more respectable single air-kiss, and Johann and the pirates received only handshakes and smiles. The tinker-master did linger over Johann, praising his clockwork and smiling knowingly when he learned it was all Conny’s craftsmanship. As Rodrigo gave them a tour of the shops, he put an arm around Cornelius’s shoulders and led him eagerly from station to station.
“It’s wonderful to finally make your acquaintance,” Rodrigo told Cornelius in correct but roughly accented French. “Félix has told me so much about you over the years. He says you are the most promising apprentice he’s ever had and one of the best tinkers in the world.” He grinned, revealing several gold-capped, glinting teeth. “But you are ready for a new challenge, yes? You will fall in love with my city, and with my shops.”
Conny did his best to explain to Signor Rodrigo that wasn’t why they’d come to Naples, but he quickly learned it would be easier to go along with the assumption. Were he honest, the more he saw of the Milani family shop, the more Conny wished he were in the market for a new tinker-master. There was so much to see, so many different types of tinkering going on, but also so clearly a burgeoning demand for services. Even the clientele was upscale and knowledgeable.
Of course, even if he weren’t indentured to a pirate, he was on the run from his father and only God knew who else. And if none of that had happened, he’d still be in Calais, tinkering to amuse himself between idylls with Val.
Rodrigo took them to his favorite café for lunch, then bustled them off to his villa, which was on a sprawling estate just outside the city on a hillside lined with olive trees. Rodrigo’s wife, Letizia, greeted them upon their arrival, ushering them to their rooms where they were expected, apparently, to take a riposo.
“They want us to nap?” Johann asked as he sat on their bed. “Like children?”
Cornelius straddled his hips and touched his face. “Perhaps not so very like children.”
They kissed languidly, nuzzling noses and taking teasing kisses from the other’s lips—making quiet, careful love. Neither one of them was particularly interested in letting the others know what they did with one another, not today. God only knew what Italians thought of men sleeping with men. Or more to the point, what Rodrigo and Letizia thought of it. Had they been given a room to share because all the men except Félix were doubling up, or was this a nod to their relationship? It was impossible to know, and so they prepared to be discreet.
Cornelius had removed most of his clothes before getting into bed, and he shed the last of them until he was naked as he moved across Johann’s body. He peeled away Johann’s shirt and opened his trousers to make sliding against his lover that much more pleasurable for them both.
“I have so much I want to teach you. So much I want to do to you, to have you do to me.” Conny dipped his head so he could trace the thick cords of Johann’s neck with his tongue as his hands freed Johann’s cock from the last vestiges of its confinement.
Johann’s right hand skimmed Cornelius’s back, his left hand pressing clockwork into Conny’s hip. “How long will we stay here, do you think?”
“Difficult to say.” Cornelius kissed his way down Johann’s sternum. “You know Crawley better than I do. How long does he usually remain in port?”
“Long enough to secure another job. But we never traveled to Italy when I was on the Farthing the first time. Heng and Crawley had briefly been on other ships, but they never had the money to come this far when they flew their own vessel. So I don’t know if they’ll want to leave because they don’t have the contacts to compete for work, or stay to see if they can negotiate some. To be honest, they might well spend a month redecorating the hull with all the tinker scrap you gave them. You know what they say about pirates and their ornaments. Likely Crawley will think himself in a better bargaining position if his ship is properly displayed.” He drew a sharp breath, belly tightening as Cornelius kissed his way across it. “Oh, but I love it when you do that.”
Cornelius was well aware how fond his lover was of a good teasing before he was sucked off. He ran his nose along the juncture between Johann’s belly and groin, along a bare patch of taut muscle. “Lie back and rest, darling. You’re meant to be napping.”
Conny made his way lazily to Johann’s cock, letting the velvet length poke him in the neck a bit before he took hold of his root and licked his way up and down. “You’re rather like your mother’s wurst, darling. Such lovely sausages the Bergers make.”
Conny laughed at the way this made Johann startle—poor thing, so easily teased, so predictably Germanic. He wondered what his lover would think when he discovered the erotic treat in store for him today.
For several long, languid minutes Cornelius contented himself with sucking his lover’s cock. Never enough to bring Johann release, not quite enough to put him in a frenzy. While he did this, he pushed Johann’s legs until they bent at the knees, giving Conny access to the insides of those furry thighs. Of course, his right thigh was mostly clockwork, which only increased Conny’s ardor. For quite some time he was content to suck and stroke.
But then, as he’d always intended to do, his right hand strayed to the joint of Conny’s leg. Fondled his heavy, hairy balls. The thin, sensitive strip of skin behind them.
The tense, puckered bud behind that.
When Conny first brushed Johann’s hole, his lover bucked and tried to resist, though as Cornelius immediately increased the intensity of his cock-sucking, Johann all too quickly surrendered to lust, accepting having his bunghole massaged as part of the price of seeing his cock so sweetly attended to. Massage it Conny did, gently at first, then with more and more pointed deliberation.
Yes, darling. Doesn’t it feel good for me to touch you here?
At first, Johann seemed to agree. But when Conny nuzzled his face to that musky hole, pressing the flat of his tongue against the wrinkled flesh, Johann cried out and wriggled away.
“Nein.” His body shook, and he tried to shut his legs, but Conny was between them.
Conny took advantage of his position and resumed the massage on his target as he did his best to draw his prey back in. “Come, darling. It will feel wonderful, I promise. I’m only going to lick it and suck on it. Let me show you how wonderful it feels.”
“It’s unclean.” But Johann’s anus flexed against Conny’s insistent touch, making it clear only Johann’s mind had an objection to this activity.
“Darling, I’ve watched you bathe. You attend to every inch of yourself when you wash in that basin.” His lover’s anus flexed again, the bud not quite opening, but yearning to. Conny kissed the side of Johann’s balls. “I promise you, it feels like heaven. Pull your knees back, love, and watch me lick your hole. Tug on my hair, push my head in closer. Make me lick yo
u, Johann. Make me taste you.”
He switched to French then, saying all he had just spoken but adding that he wanted to fuck Johann with his finger, to press inside that heat while he sucked Johann’s brains out of his cock. It drove Johann wild. And eventually, to Conny’s extreme delight, Johann pushed Cornelius’s head down, putting him back in front of the object of his desire.
Now that he had Johann’s cooperation, Conny took his time. He licked around Johann’s anus, into the crack of his ass, massaged the tender, quivering flesh around the bud. He admired how hairy Johann was here as well. All around that bud, but of course not the rose itself.
I shall pluck you, sweet flower.
Conny ran the tip of his tongue in swirls around his target, until the bud quivered and begged for more attention. He pressed the flat of his tongue against it, thrust the center of that muscle as if he meant to fuck it, but of course could not from that position. He did this until Johann tugged on his hair, and then with a dark chuckle, he teased some more. Light flicks. Hard flicks. He painted a five-point star across Johann’s rosebud. He drew the alphabet, complete with flourishes. All the while Johann pulled harder and harder at his hair, his thighs quivering around Conny’s head.
When Johann began to swear at him in breathless, beautifully guttural German, Cornelius smiled darkly and put his thumbs on either side of Johann’s anus. Then he tugged his lover gently open and thrust his tongue inside.
He moaned as Johann simultaneously clenched around his tongue and clamped his thighs around Conny’s head. Mewling, Conny wormed his tongue deeper before forming a seal around Johann’s skin, sucking and fucking as he massaged circles with his thumbs.
He was so lost to what he was doing that when Johann yanked him away by his hair, he was on his back before he realized it had happened. Johann pinned him by the hair to the mattress, then attacked Conny’s mouth ruthlessly, biting at his lips and thrusting his tongue before dragging his lips to Conny’s ear.
Clockwork Heart: Clockwork Love, Book 1 Page 15