by Ariel Tachna
He trembled, leaning weakly against Taen’s stand, as he remembered what it had felt like to be caught between the hard stone and Rhicer’s harder body, his lips captured, claimed, his mouth possessed. No woman had ever dared kiss him the way Rhicer had, with all the anger and jealousy and lust that had colored their exchange. No woman had ever commanded his surrender the way Rhicer had. He had ached to surrender, ached to beg… for another kiss, a caress, anything to soothe the roaring emotions in his chest. By the ancient gods and goddesses, he had wanted it! And that thought had been enough to send him fleeing into the night.
Despite the needs roused by the potion, he was not a passive man, not one to surrender or to beg. He had not reached his position as the youngest leader of his liege’s patrols by letting someone else take charge. He acted first and asked permission later, taking control of situations and exploiting them to meet his own ends. To find himself now wanting to be taken, to be controlled, angered him as much as it scared him. As much as it aroused him.
Here, in his refuge, with no one to see but Taen, he could admit that he had returned to his chamber last night and brought himself off to thoughts of Rhicer kissing him, claiming him, loving him, but the images, other than the kiss, had been formless, sensation rather than sight. The feast had proven to him the folly of denying what he felt. Regardless of how it had started, he considered Rhicer his now. The only question was whether he could stake that claim and still retain any sense of himself. He wanted Rhicer, desperately, but if having him meant giving up his own identity, it would be better if he simply left now. The prince would surely recommend him to one of the other lords, would surely help him establish himself elsewhere.
“I thought I might find you here.”
Kanath spun, the sudden movement startling Taen. Reflexively, he stroked her feathers, calming her, but the familiar easy motion did nothing to calm his own racing heart. “Rhicer,” he acknowledged.
“You’ve always come here to think,” Rhicer observed softly.
Not sure what to say, Kanath settled for saying nothing. Rhicer was right, of course, but he did not need Kanath to tell him that. Instead, he resumed his gentle preening of Taen’s feathers.
“Will you walk with me?” Rhicer asked diffidently. “We need to talk, and I imagine it would be easier if we don’t have to worry about anyone overhearing us.”
Kanath nodded nervously. He almost held his wrist out to Taen, just to have something to do with his hands, but he stopped himself. This was Rhicer, his captain and friend. His lover, his traitorous thoughts added. Scolding himself for such thoughts, he stroked Taen’s wings one final time. “Lead the way.”
Rhicer headed into the forest, taking a little-used path away from the keep. He had found the path, and the ruins it led to, soon after his arrival at court. He had gone there seeking solitude, a place to mourn Eldvese’s death. More than once, sitting among the old, mossy stones, he had considered taking his own life and joining her, but something had always stayed his hand: a sense of duty, a refusal to take the easy way out, a hope for a better future despite the darkness of his path. As far as he knew, no one else ever went there. It would provide them the privacy to speak honestly without imposing the intimacy of one bedchamber or the other. After his dreams the night before, Rhicer was not entirely sure he trusted himself around Kanath and a bed. Certainly not until he had his lover’s permission.
“What is this place?” Kanath asked as they reached the ruins. Forgetting for a moment the tangle they had landed in, he walked the edge of the clearing with wide eyes, fingers touching the old stones as if they could come alive and reveal all their secrets. One wall still stood, along with the hint of several arches that would have formed the roof when the building was intact. The stones had been pale when they were first quarried, but rain and wind and time had weathered them to a dull brown, highlighted with dark green moss and pale yellowy-white lichen. His toe prodded the carpet of fallen leaves, tracing the line of the foundation across the forest floor. At what would have been the far corner of the building, had it still been standing, he stopped cold. A tangle of branches lay across the ground, covered in rosebuds despite the lack of support for the climbing tendrils.
“What it was originally, I can only venture to guess,” Rhicer replied as he watched Kanath explore. “Now, though, it is my hiding place. I come here when I need an escape from court.” He managed to smother the gasp that wanted to slip free when he saw the rose bush Kanath had found, but he could not stop the leap of his heart. Roses had haunted them since this misadventure began, on the potion that linked them, at the feast the night before, a gift from their lady, and now here, on brambles he had seen for years, but never in bloom. It seemed the flower was entwined with their lives as the individual branches of the bush were. Rhicer had gone back after their heated kiss and Kanath’s flight, to retrieve the two roses Nische had bestowed on them last night, not wanting someone to find them and tell their lady how careless they were with her gift. Over the course of the evening, their leaves had become so entangled that he had been unable to separate them.
“I thought it was a weed,” he murmured, reaching down to touch one of the nascent flowers. He told himself he was imagining it, but it seemed the bloom swelled beneath his touch, one step closer to flowering in its full glory.
Clearing his throat, Kanath turned his back on the rosebush, facing Rhicer across the clearing. “You said you wanted to talk.”
“We have to stop pretending nothing has changed,” Rhicer said softly, not approaching Kanath yet. The younger man had the look of a frightened deer, and Rhicer did not want to give him any reason to run.
“We do?” Kanath asked.
“Look how well it worked last night,” Rhicer pointed out. “I could barely stand to watch you dancing with anyone else.”
“You could have fooled me,” Kanath retorted. “The way you were dancing with Mistress Rynyl certainly didn’t give me that impression.”
“Then you weren’t paying enough attention,” Rhicer replied with a rueful chuckle. “Even Rynes realized something was wrong with both of us. He just couldn’t figure out what.”
“You didn’t tell him, did you?” Kanath exclaimed in a panicked voice. No one could know! They would be cast out or worse!
“Of course not,” Rhicer assured him soothingly, taking a step forward before thinking the better of it and stopping again, “but if we don’t figure out a way to live with this, it won’t take long before other people start asking questions, and we can only plead ignorance or bad moods for so long. We have to figure out how to make this work between us.”
“What do you mean?” Kanath asked warily.
“I was jealous last night, watching you dance with Mistress Lorod. I didn’t want you touching anyone but me,” Rhicer began, sure that revealing his own feelings was the way to convince Kanath to admit his. “I handled it badly, I know that, but I didn’t expect it. I’ve had some time to think since then. We’ve been friends for ten years, Kanath. That’s a lot more than most marriages have when they start. Do you think we could find a way to deal with this together?”
“Together?” Kanath repeated, not sure exactly what Rhicer meant. Too nervous now to stand still, he started to pace, his steps measuring the edge of the clearing.
“Was it really so terrible to kiss me last night?”
It had not been terrible at all, but a lifetime of conditioning made that hard to admit. He stopped pacing to look across the clearing at Rhicer only to find the object of his desires much closer than he realized. He froze, breath rasping in and out as memories assailed him, of Rhicer’s lips on his, Rhicer’s body pressing his to the wall.
Taking Kanath’s stillness as a good sign, Rhicer took a step closer. They were not touching, but he could sense the shivers that went through the younger man. Hoping to encourage that, he added, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, “I went back to my chamber last night and thought of you. Do you know what I did, lying in my
bed alone? I imagined you there with me, touching me the way I was touching myself.”
“Rhicer, we can’t,” Kanath protested breathily, his entire body yearning for exactly what Rhicer was describing.
“Why not?” Rhicer asked, closing the distance between them so that his breath tickled Kanath’s neck as he spoke.
This was a side of Rhicer Kanath had never seen before. He knew Rhicer the warrior, Rhicer the friend, but he had never been privy to Rhicer the seducer. He was beginning to understand his captain’s popularity with the ladies.
“I agree no one can know,” Rhicer continued, addressing what he was sure was Kanath’s primary concern, “but that doesn’t mean we can’t meet discreetly and see what could come of this.”
“It’s the potion making you say this,” Kanath protested even as he leaned back into Rhicer’s warmth. The seductive images beckoned his mind and heart, urging him to give in. What harm could there be? They could be discreet. They had both conducted affairs before, no hint of scandal touching their names or the names of their lovers.
“The potion started this,” Rhicer agreed, for how could he deny it, “but I am choosing to continue it. I have imagined you in my arms every night since you woke up in them and I want to know that feeling again. I want to hear the cries I have only dreamed of. I want to feel the caresses I have only imagined. Can you truly tell me you do not feel the same?” As he spoke, he nuzzled gently at Kanath’s neck, a conscious imitation of the first caress he and his lover had shared in their sleep.
“No,” Kanath replied, his head tilting to grant Rhicer better access, “but I don’t know what to do.”
“You didn’t have any problem figuring out what to do last night,” Rhicer pointed out, nibbling lightly on his lover’s skin. “Kiss me. Start with that.”
The invitation was more than Kanath could refuse. With a sharp breath, he turned in Rhicer’s arms and did as the older man had said, fitting their lips together with all the passion that had consumed him since their first kiss the night before. Unlike the quick fumble in the corridor, they had no fear of being found this time. They had already discussed and dismissed the reasons not to do this. All that remained was to explore the growing emotions between them, to learn finally how they fit together.
Despite their eagerness and mutual desire, it was awkward at first, both of them used to taking control with their lovers. “Relax,” Rhicer murmured, pulling away enough to catch his breath. “This isn’t a competition you have to win.”
Kanath tensed, starting to pull away. “So I’m supposed to roll over and give in to you?” he snarled.
The anger in Kanath’s words startled Rhicer until he caught the hint of fear beneath it. He shook his head, tightening his arms enough to stop his lover’s backward movement. “That isn’t what I meant. All I care about is your pleasure. I have always found my pleasure in seeing to my lover, but that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate your attentions in return.” Leaning down, he nuzzled Kanath’s neck. “Does this feel good?”
Kanath moaned softly.
Rhicer lifted his head and looked down into Kanath’s eyes seriously. “If it were a woman nuzzling your neck that way, would it bother you?”
“No,” Kanath had to reply.
“And what would you do while she nuzzled at your neck that way?”
Kanath flushed, but replied, “Probably fondle her breasts, maybe use one arm to pull her against me so she could feel how good she was making me feel.”
Rhicer chuckled. “I don’t have breasts, but I certainly enjoyed the last time you caressed my chest. I’ve been dreaming about it since that night. So, can we try this again?”
He started to lower his head, but Kanath caught his chin, lifting it so their eyes met again. “Do you mean that?”
“Mean what?” Rhicer asked. “That I’ve dreamt of you? Yes. I mean it. That I want you to touch me? Yes. I mean it. That my cock is throbbing so hard I’m afraid of what will happen if you don’t touch me soon? Yes. I mean it.”
Kanath’s eyes closed on the seductive words. “How am I supposed to resist you when you say things like that?”
“You’re not,” Rhicer assured him, lowering his head and nuzzling at Kanath’s neck again, angling his upper body in clear invitation.
A part of Kanath’s mind wondered traitorously if Rhicer had used that line on previous conquests, but he pushed the thought aside. Rhicer was there with him now. He had no claim on his lover’s past. And unless he started staking one, he would have no claim on his lover’s future. Mindful of Rhicer’s suggestion that he react to this lover as he had with previous lovers, he stroked his hand down the blond’s chest. It felt odd not to encounter the swell of breasts, but he did not let the oddity dissuade him. Thinking of what felt good to him, he flattened his hand and used the heel to massage at the heavy muscle of Rhicer’s chest.
Rhicer inhaled sharply, his grip on Kanath’s hips tightening as his lover kneaded his flesh. Even through the fabric of his light tunic, the touch galvanized him, leaving him trembling and aching for more. He pulsed his hips against Kanath’s thigh, letting the other man feel his arousal. It was a gamble, but it was one he felt he had to take. The reality they were facing was of a love that involved two cocks, not just one. He had come to terms with that during the night. He needed to know Kanath could accept it, too, before he invested any more in this.
Up until last night, everything that had passed between them had been forced on them or from them by the potion. This was different. He had consciously sought Kanath out that morning with the intention of determining if they could make this work between them. His seduction of Kanath was as deliberate as any seduction he had ever carried out. More so, even, for this was the love he would bear for the rest of his life, whether Kanath accepted him or rejected him. For Rhicer, this was it. He was in love with his lieutenant, come what may.
Kanath tensed again when he felt Rhicer’s erection pressing against his leg, but he stopped himself from pulling back. Despite the way the older man had cajoled him into this position, he knew Rhicer was not a woman. He still struggled with that fact, but he had to stop reacting like a scared child. Rhicer had not forced him to come here, had not forced him to accept a kiss or a caress or an intimate touch. Rhicer was not suddenly going to throw him down and force anything else on him either. His own niggling concerns about losing himself reared their heads again, but they were easier to address. He would simply have to take control of the situation. He knew how to make love to a woman, and while this would obviously be different—the cock pressed against his thigh reminded him constantly of that fact—what he already knew would surely hold him in good stead. So the next logical step was to peel away a few of the layers of clothes that separated them. That, at least, he knew he could handle. He had seen Rhicer shirtless countless times.
Undoing the laces on Rhicer’s tunic was not at all like undoing the laces down the back of a woman’s dress, nor very much like loosening his own laces, but he managed to get them undone with a minimum of fuss, parting the cloth to reveal hair-dusted skin burnished gold by the sun. He should not have been surprised at the sudden desire to touch, to caress, to explore—the love potion had seen to that—but even so, the intensity of the emotion nearly brought him to his knees. Rather than fight it, a ridiculous endeavor when Rhicer had more than given permission anyway, he replaced his hand as it had been before, palm covering one dusky nipple, pressing down firmly, repeatedly, actively trying now to build the passion between them. It still felt strange to have the rasp of hair against his skin, instead of smooth flesh, but it no longer repelled him the way it had the first time he felt it.
Rhicer shrugged his tunic off his shoulders, letting it fall unheeded to the ground. Lifting his head, he focused on removing Kanath's tunic as well, wanting his hands on the smooth skin that had haunted his dreams. Two weeks ago, he would have professed to having no idea if Kanath was smooth or hirsute or somewhere in between, but the magic in the elix
ir had pulled up and clarified every memory he had of seeing his lover shirtless in the summer heat, tormenting him with images of sweat gleaming on olive skin. No longer. He could touch now, could indulge the desire that had teased him these past two weeks. He trailed a single fingertip around the dark circle the color of the fallen leaves, seeing it pucker beneath his petting, the center hardening to a tempting point. “Do you like that?” he queried, though he thought he knew the answer already.
Kanath arched into the questing caress, a vague memory of wondering if Rhicer would touch him this way flitting across his thoughts. He had his answer now. “Yes,” he moaned. “Please… don’t stop.”
“I won’t,” Rhicer promised, his finger circling again with firmer pressure this time. Kanath was so incredibly responsive simply from the gentle stimulation to his nipples. Rhicer could only wonder at how his lover would react to having his cock stroked.
A part of him wanted to delay, to draw out these moments of discovery, but his own arousal was straining at his breeches, demanding attention, and he suspected the quickest way to ensure that would be to show Kanath how good it could feel. Trailing his knuckles gently down his lover’s torso, he brushed them across the bulge distending the younger man’s leggings. The compulsive jerk brought a smile to his lips even as his lust drove him to touch again, to explore fully.
He reined in his desire, keeping it under iron control. He wanted Kanath desperately—his hands, his lips, his body—but rushing this could spook his lover, and that would make the next step that much harder to take later. Subduing his demons, he focused entirely on the warm body in his arms, determined to make this an experience his lover would want to repeat. Often.
The fleeting touch of Rhicer’s hand on his swollen shaft caught Kanath off guard, but as soon as he felt it, he knew he wanted it again, preferably without the layer of cloth between them. Heedless of the dictates of propriety, he dropped his hands to his breeches, opening them and letting his aching erection spring free.