by Aiden Bates
He nodded. “Laleh said it was best that you recover in here. Uh… you know, like keeping the wound from getting infected, or something. She and Amy left.”
Made sense. I glanced at the door, then up at Rez. “You think there’s like… something going on between those two?”
Rez shrugged. “Wish I could say I noticed, but… since we got here I really only paid attention to you. You must be thirsty, and hungry. We’ve been in here for hours. I think. I don’t really know, actually—did you notice this part of the house seems…”
“Too far away from the main part?” I asked. “Yeah. Magic, maybe.”
“Magic that warps space,” he muttered. “That’s powerful stuff, isn’t it?”
“Probably,” I said. “So is reaching into a person’s belly and clipping off a bit of soul, though. She’s a djinn, after all.”
He cast about, annoyed apparently at the lack of anything to drink in the room. “Okay. Well, I’ll knock on the door or something. Let her know that you’re up and maybe—”
“Not… not just yet,” I said, and tucked in closer to him. He had me in his lap, his legs splayed so that I fit into the space between his knees. I laid my head on his chest, pressed my ear to it, and listened to his heart beat. “Just until I feel… different. I don’t know. It just doesn’t feel right yet.”
His arms wrapped around me again. “Of course. We can stay here as long as you want, b… uh, Daniel.”
I glanced up at him. “That’s twice.”
“Hm?” he shook his head. “Twice what?”
He knew. The corner of his mouth trembled, and a smile he couldn’t prevent gradually made itself known.
“Twice you almost called me ‘baby’,” I said. “Which, for the record, is about the laziest pet name you could come up with.”
He grinned wider. “I could try others,” he suggested. “What about snuggle-puss? Or love-bump? Or… I don’t know, sugar-blossom-cream-pie?”
I groaned. “Gods, no—fine, ‘baby’ will work if those are my other choices.”
“I kind of liked ‘sweet boy’,” he murmured. “But if it’s too diminutive or something—”
“First,” I said, wriggling against him, “I’m a little surprised you know a word like diminutive—”
“This will be hard to believe but I am educated,” he said. “Most dragons are.”
“—and second,” I went on, playing a finger over his chest, “I don’t entirely mind… that. If you have to call me something that isn’t my name.”
“I don’t have to,” he said gently. “If it makes you uncomfortable, I won’t.”
I shrugged, and glanced down at my jeans, which were getting uncomfortably tight. The way he said the words, ‘sweet boy’ and the very recent memories attached to those words—which were a balm on the blackness of more recent memories, even if I couldn’t quite access them yet—conspired to make me eager for anything other than sitting in these feelings. I pawed at his chest, tugged at his shoulder, and then his arm until he let me pull it away from my waist. I slid my fingers along his arm until I found his hand, and then moved it to my quickly hardening cock.
Rez looked down, eyebrows raised. “Uh… so soon after what happened—”
“Please,” I breathed against his chest, and then his neck. “I can’t explain what this feeling is, but I want anything else to replace it. I know you can make it so I don’t feel it. Make me feel something else?”
He swallowed, and glanced at the door. “Laleh could come back.”
I grinned, and kissed his jaw. “I think that just makes it all a little more exciting, doesn’t it? Might get caught…”
The growl in his chest buzzed against me, purring into my bones as his hand massaged me through my jeans. “Maybe,” he rumbled, “if it’s quick. Wouldn’t want to burn the place down, though.”
I shrugged. “If I’m gonna pop, I’ll tell you.”
“I think I’ll probably know,” he said as he found my lips and kissed me.
Just like I hoped, the feeling of his lips on mine, the taste of his tongue, the insistence of his kiss, pulled all of my focus, every scrap of awareness, into one place that was far more pleasant than the alternative. His deft fingers found the button and zipper of my jeans and prized both apart so that his heavy hand could slip inside and find me trapped in those soft briefs that he’d been so keen to see me in.
I moaned quietly against his jaw as he pulled those away as well, and finally wrapped his fingers around my cock. He turned his head to the side and let go of me briefly to spit in his hand, twice, and when he gripped me again it was with a slick hand as he spread it around and pumped me with a tight fist.
“Fuck,” I breathed as the sensation coursed through me, blocking everything else out. “That’s… yeah… just like that, Rez…”
“Sweet boy,” he whispered, working his lips over my cheek and to my ear, where his words cascaded into me, teasing and tickling the skin of my ear, and going deeper, stirring up my mind until I couldn’t even think of what had happened. “I know that feels so good. Just relax, beautiful. I’ll take good care of you. Work that cock so slow you can’t stand it. I’ll make you come so hard you can’t remember your own name. But you’ll never forget mine, will you? No. Rez takes good care of his sweet, sweet boy. That’s it, baby, moan for me. It’s just you and me.”
That he had this way about him—that he could just say these filthy things in my ear, with wild confidence that, warranted or not, made my toes curl—turned on a part of me that until he did it before, I didn’t know I had. I almost responded, almost said the dirty things that were on my mind, hovering at the tip of my tongue, but some deep, old restriction seemed to hold them back. Instead, I just let myself give in and whine against him as my hips moved like they had their own brain and nerves and their own plans. Rez’s grip was hot, tight, and slick, but I felt the texture of his hands, the slight roughness that scraped pleasantly over my cock each time he stroked me. I buried my face in his chest, near his armpit, and breathed in the scent of him until I didn’t even remember what the air felt like without him in it, filling me.
It wasn’t going to take long—or, it shouldn’t have. But he paused when I thrust into his fist and began to quake with the promise that I wasn’t going to last.
“Not yet,” he breathed. “Not yet, sweet boy. Deep breath. Relax. Don’t fuck my fist. Let me take care of you.”
I nodded helplessly against him, my head swirling, my mind awash with pleasure that I clung to as tightly as I clung to him.
“Talk to me,” he whispered.
I gave a nervous whimper as his fist twisted over the head of my cock. When he stopped, I answered him with my heart in my throat. “I… it’s… I don’t think I can talk like you do… say those kinds of things.”
“Say whatever you want,” he said, nudging my forehead with his nose. “Beautiful, I promise, anything you say is just gonna make me harder, and make me wish I could knot you again and have you on my cock all night. Even if the whole world burned for it. It was like visiting Elysia to be inside you, feeling that warmth all around me. Filling your body. You fucking made me come so hard, so deep.”
His hand started to move again. I gasped, groaned, and dug my fingers into his chest. “Rez…”
“Come on, beautiful,” he purred. “Daddy’s got you.”
Rez wasn’t much older than me, I thought. He didn’t look it, at least—maybe dragons aged slow, like a lot of paranormals did—but that word slipped off his lips, wormed into my ear, wound down my spine and reached down into some place that, just like the other things he did to me, I didn’t even know was there. My balls churned, and I could barely help from thrusting into his fist as he stroked down.
I gave a strangled, choked sound, and would have come then if he didn’t let my cock go. He chuckled darkly. “Mmm… okay,” he breathed. “I’m happy to put your puzzle together myself, you know. If that’s how you want it. If you’ll let me have the tim
e. Daddy’ll figure you out, sweet boy, if I play with you long enough.”
His fingers grazed me, trailing up the length of my strained cock until he flicked lightly at the head. I was so close, it nearly pushed me over, but he was being careful, watchful. He saw the swell and stiffening of my dick, maybe even noticed how my balls tightened against me.
“Want me to make you come?” he asked.
I nodded, grunting a plea into his chest.
He lifted my chin, and kissed me, and looked into my eyes. “Tell me, beautiful. Do you want me to make you come?”
I swallowed. The words came to my lips, but halted. My heart raced. “I…”
“Anything,” he breathed against my cheek. “Say anything to me, Daniel. My sweet boy. I promise… it’ll just make me wanna fuck you deeper.”
They came out in a tumble as I let my eyes close. “Make… please make me come, Daddy. I love your hand. Love the way you touch me, how you handle me…”
Rez purred against me. It wasn’t a growl—not a sound like that. It resonated in his chest, vibrated through me, and it didn’t let up. A heavy base that buzzed around until it was the only thing I could feel until he gripped me tight. “Okay, sweet boy,” he said as he stroked me again. “Daddy’s got you. You’re close. Tell me.”
“I’m close,” I murmured.
“You want it out?” he pressed, kissing my jaw, my neck. “Want me to get it out of you?”
“Please,” I groaned, and started to thrust. I couldn’t help it. Nerves just took over, did what they wanted. “Please, Daddy, get it out… get it out of me… take it please, take my cum, please…”
“Almost got it,” he grunted. His hand didn’t speed up. If anything it slowed down. I could barely breathe. “That’s good, beautiful. Let me take it. Give it up for me. Give daddy your load, sweet boy. It’s all mine…”
I let out something between a sob and a cry as my body jerked, and his fist slid down to the base of me and stayed there. I strained, pushed against him, clawed at his chest. “Fuck… ah… Daddy, please let me…”
He stroked up a final time, and it was like he unlocked whatever place I kept it all stored. A shot of pearly white burst out of me, fountained up, and came raining down. Then another, and another, each one a little weaker while his fist worked me and his tongue invaded my mouth and took me over, and holy gods and saints, for what felt like long, blissful minutes I was blessedly free of my body, my mind, maybe my soul, too.
I was just this.
Just his.
And that, I realized, was peace. At last.
17
Rez
The only way to clean up was to lick my hand clean and then have Daniel take off his briefs so we could wipe down and just hope for the best. If I’d given it more thought, I would have pulled him to my mouth and swallowed, but the look on his face when he came for me was just too enchanting, and I hadn’t been able to look away.
And for that matter, the profound peace that settled on his face afterward was enough to lull me into a deep trance as well. There hadn’t been a lick or spark of fire when I did it to him this time, which I idly logged in the back of my mind. Maybe he’d been right about magic dragon jizz?
Or maybe it was about intensity. He certainly hadn’t howled for me like the first time, but then again we were in someone’s house.
Someone who, as if there was a real possibility that she could actually see what happened in the room, showed up just about a minute after I figured we were as sorted out as we were going to get. I had given Daniel my shirt, and tucked his into the back of my jeans. He was swallowed by it, but at least it didn’t have cum stains over the front.
Laleh gave a polite knock before she opened the door and peeked in. “You are awake.”
“Uh... yep,” Daniel said, scratching the back of his neck nervously. He brought his hand around and tapped the locket around his neck. “Rez gave me the necklace. The... talisman, I guess. Thank you for making it.”
“There is no need to thank me,” she said as she came in with a pitcher of water and a glass. She moved to the narrow table on the side and filled the glass before she turned and offered it to him. “Drink.”
Daniel did gratefully, taking great gulps until the glass was empty. He handed it back to her sheepishly. “Thanks. I was thirstier than I realized.”
She smiled and poured him another, which he took and drank a bit slower. “Be mindful,” she said as he sipped. “For some time, you will hunger for many things. Drink, food. Sensation. It is the nature of the soul to seek to replace what is lost, even if what is lost is near, and even if what fills the void is not like what was taken.”
That hit me in the chest like a needle-thin knife. It felt too close. The way Daniel had begged for relief. Had he really wanted me? Or just... to fill a new, literal, void?
I tried to brush it off and remind myself that it didn’t matter. I felt how I felt for him. It would be a selfish sort of... love... if it mattered to me whether he was taking what I gave the way I wanted him to.
Daniel was quiet a moment before he sipped again and nodded. “I’ll keep an eye on it.”
“So,” Laleh said. “Now, there is the... other matter.”
“You’ll tell me about the book?” he wondered.
She inclined her head. “What I know to tell, yes. Come. Rejoin the world. There is food to fill your belly and help you regain some strength.”
We followed her out, and walked down a hall that—I swear on my grave—was shorter leaving than it had been coming. I even looked back to see if maybe it was somehow just... one way or something. But the hallway was definitely shorter this time. Wasn’t it?
Laleh had not lied about the food. Her kitchen table was set with something just shy of a small feast. A story came to mind, just an old fable, about djinn creating feasts for some king or another.
I didn’t think that our host was reading my mind or anything, but she cast me a shrewd look. “I began cooking when I left you. I hope you will enjoy. It is good to have a true meal from time to time.”
Daniel didn’t need more of an invitation. He sat down and Amy handed him a plate that he started filling like he forgot that his stomach had physical limits.
Mine actually had far fewer practical limits, owing to a slightly more acidic environment, so I did the same. It did smell fantastic. Aromatics filled the air, a match for the herbs that grew out front and in the back of Laleh’s place, and probably fresh. I sat down near Daniel to eat, and Amy joined us. Laleh was last to sit down, and waited until we’d each filled a plate before she began to fill her own.
“So,” she said, when we were all settled and eating, “this book that you carry. What do you know of it?”
Daniel swallowed what he was chewing and shook his head. “Not much. Ivan—the man who gave it to me... uh... sort of—he thought it was this sort of cosmic key. That it contained all the secrets of the universe.”
“That is not inaccurate,” Laleh said softly, drumming her fingers on the table by her plate, which she barely touched. As if to prove that she did, in fact, eat, she plucked a small green bundle from her plate and popped it into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully for a time. When she swallowed, she smiled. “Have you ever wondered how it is that the gods learned their craft? How to make the stars and hang them in the void, how to stretch out space and set it in motion with time? How two sparks could be forced to join and make hydrogen, and from there bond together to make all things? Or, for that matter, how to twist the tiniest threads of space to make quantum strings?”
Daniel blinked. “Uh... no.”
She smiled. “We djinn have a philosophical bent. We do wonder such things. How it was that al-Lat, al-Uzza, and al-Manat came to know the secrets of creation; of destiny and time; how they honed their arts.”
I didn’t know those names, but I knew that the way she said them meant they were the gods or goddesses she revered. She spoke the names with a certain breathlessness and wonder in her
tone. “We long wondered,” she went on, “and many sought to discover the answers. Among those that searched, there was a rumor of a great manual—a tome in which ancient beings, older and wiser than the gods themselves, had set down their instructions, or perhaps defined the very nature of the art itself. It was believed that such a thing would be more than merely ink and pages. That because it was written in the same language which these ancients used to speak whole worlds into existence, that it would be almost an act of creation itself.”
“An act of creation?” Daniel asked, frowning, his plate forgotten. “I don’t...?”
“It is said,” Laleh spoke softly, “that the gods are mindful not to look long into the waters; for anything which captures their reflection itself becomes a god—so great is the power that fills them and years to create. Perhaps the same can be said of the words of the First Ones, those that first carved creation into the canvas that succeeding gods then painted upon. If they wrote such things down, then anything onto which they wrote their secrets might become, by extension, an expression of their divinity.”
“So, the book is a... god?” I asked.
Laleh smiled patiently. “No. At least, that is not what I believe, and not the prevailing theory. Rather... the words and voice of the divine are such that, while there most certainly is a difference between the two, it may be quite beyond the ability of a mortal mind to notice.”
That seemed a little evasive; but even if she meant it like she said, I wasn’t sure what the difference was between a god and something that was indistinguishable from a god.
Daniel, though, appeared to follow her easily. “The symbols in the book,” he said, “they’re not just symbols. I mean—once I learn them, I can use them, sort of; they don’t all fit together—but it’s not enough to just reproduce them. I have to kind of let them open up to me, learn what they mean, but on a level I can’t really...”