He jerks back, realizing what he’s about to do, and Rowan catches sight of his teeth and draws an astonished breath. Jason knows his eyes have gone silver—everything in the room has taken on a hazy, half-drunken quality, but he can still see the look on Rowan’s face, and it makes him burn with shame. He hasn’t lost control so utterly in over a century. It's appalling for someone of his age and strength; a vampire who feeds on impulse is little better than an animal.
He starts to turn away, clamping his eyes shut, but feels the palm of a hand touch either side of his face, holding him there. He opens his eyes again reluctantly, meeting Rowan’s gaze, seeing neither disgust nor fear, but absolute acceptance.
Rowan kisses him gently, hands still holding his face as though concerned he might bolt, and draws him along toward the bedroom.
*****
Jason would never have thought that one day he would consider curry a sexy food, but there he was, sitting in the basement room of the Clay Pit, thankful that the table was concealing the way his body reacted to watching Rowan eat.
He sipped his wine, not bothering to hide the fact that he was staring, and for once it didn’t seem to make the Elf uncomfortable; Rowan was too busy savoring every last bite of the vegetable concoction he’d ordered, making irresistible little noises of delight. He licked his lips, and Jason shifted in his seat—he was unbearably hard, and at this rate by the time they got to dessert he was going to leap over the table and throw the Elf facedown on the floor.
To make matters worse Rowan chose to sit adjacent to him rather than across, putting him within easy pouncing distance. The insane part of his mind that injected random thoughts into everyday situations wondered, briefly, if ghee would work as a substitute for lube.
“Do you miss food?” Rowan asked suddenly, and Jason was grateful for the distraction.
“Not anymore,” he replied. “I did at first. It only takes once or twice eating something and having it make you violently ill to lose your taste for it.”
“So you can’t digest it at all?”
“No. Our enzymes are completely different, and we don’t produce enough stomach acid to break it down. Even some liquids, like whole milk, are too much for us.”
Rowan grinned. “Which explains why you take your coffee black.”
He nodded. “Dessert?”
Something decidedly puckish crossed Rowan’s face. He slid one hand across the table and traced the inside of Jason’s wrist, eliciting a shiver that traveled through Jason’s entire body. “What did you have in mind?”
The ache in Jason’s cock redoubled, and again he had to adjust how he was sitting. At this rate they were going to be here all night before he could stand up. Still, he returned the grin, as he was pretty sure Rowan was aware of—and enjoying--his effect on the vampire.
Confirming his suspicions, Rowan asked innocently, “Is there something wrong with your chair?”
Jason narrowed his eyes, reached under the table, grabbed the Elf’s hand, and placed it squarely on the source of the problem. Rowan turned slightly pink, but didn’t withdraw his hand; his smile was touched with wickedness as he squeezed a little, then rubbed, looking pleased at the dimensions of what he'd encountered.
Jason bit back a groan and nearly snapped the stem of his wine glass in half. “Bastard,” he muttered.
Rowan laughed. “Oh, all right, I’ll be merciful.” He sat up straight again, hands folded on the table. “I guess we can’t leave just yet.”
“Talk about grandmothers or something,” Jason suggested, clenching the arms of the chair. “I can’t even feel my feet.”
Another laugh. “I don’t think either of us has a grandmother.”
“All right, then. You told me once you had a daughter—how did that happen?”
Rowan’s energy changed immediately, from mirthful to surprised to melancholy, and Jason regretted asking. It only took a moment, however, for the Elf to recover, and he smiled with mixed grief and memory. “A friend of mine, a regular healer, wanted to have a child. She was part of a trio of women, and they all raised the baby together.”
“A trio? That sort of thing is common among Elves?”
He shrugged. “Not common, really, but accepted. Our relationship mores are a lot more relaxed. Since the birth rate is so low, any child born to anyone is loved by all, and if someone conceives who doesn’t want the baby there are always a half-dozen parents ready to take it in. I was too busy to really be a father to the child, but we saw each other often, and she knew we were kin.”
“What was her name?”
“Kaeli.” He stared down into the remains of his food, stabbing a potato with his fork. “She would only be about fifty now. I didn’t see her die, which is a blessing, really. I saw two of her mothers cut down and the other dragged off to be sold into slavery. Given the alternative I hope Kaeli died in the raid.”
Jason closed his eyes briefly. He knew the grief in Rowan’s voice all too well, and it tore at him. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have asked.”
“It’s all right. Really.” Rowan took his hand. “Why don’t we go for a walk?”
Jason took a deep breath and forced a smile. The past was past—and if he’d had to lose so much to reach this night, with those eyes looking into his, it was all worth it. “I’ve got a better idea,” he said.
*****
For the first time that night, Rowan falters. He stares up at Jason, breathless, a touch of fear on his face. “I…”
Jason pauses, fingers stilling where they were about to unzip the Elf’s jeans, and frowns. “What’s wrong?”
He knows the answer, of course, and has in fact been expecting this for the last half hour, while they slowly and reverently undressed each other, finally stretching out on the bed. Jason hadn’t given him time to take control; he had nudged Rowan onto his back, half-pinning him against the comforter, and set to exploring him with hands and lips and tongue, waiting for the inevitable.
Rowan’s eyes are shining in the darkness, and he sounds perilously close to tears. “You’re still shielded,” he says almost plaintively. “I can’t read you.”
“I know that,” Jason replies. “I don’t want you to.”
He stares, confused and hurt. “You don’t trust me?”
Jason shakes his head. “I don’t want to be your client, Rowan. I don’t want you to think of me as someone to serve, at the expense of your own enjoyment. I want you to learn to be loved as well as a lover. Nothing else is going to work in the long run.”
Rowan looks away. “I don’t know how.”
“So you’ll learn. We’re immortal—we have time.”
He sighs. “But you don’t understand…I do enjoy myself. Giving pleasure to others is what I was born for. Just because I can’t do it the way I used to doesn’t mean I don’t still have the instincts or the talent. And you’re right; I do have a lot to learn about being with someone…about loving someone and being loved. But I need to connect. Please. Otherwise it’s just physical, and…I need more than that with you.”
It has been years, so many years since Jason allowed anyone past his shields, especially to the depth that he knows the Elf will go to join with him…but he knows at heart that Rowan is right about that much. They can’t simply fuck and fall asleep like normal people.
They both have a lot to learn.
In the end, there is no response he can give except to give everything.
*****
“Oh my god,” Rowan breathed, one hand going to his mouth. “It’s…”
“It’s a bookstore,” Jason said with a chuckle. “Are you going to have a stroke?”
“I may.”
They wandered around the two floors of books for over an hour, Rowan reaching out to touch everything he could, his eyes wide with wonder and joy. It was just like the first night he’d tried the inhibitor in public, when a coffee shop transformed temporarily into Wonderland; Jason watched him trace the spines of hardbacks and paperba
cks, turn the pages of a Brian Froud collector’s edition as if it was a religious experience, and actually press his nose into a shelf to fill his lungs with the smell of books. The Elf had been ordering his reading material online for a decade. Book People was a revelation for him.
“Thank you for bringing me here,” Rowan told him. The pure unvarnished happiness on his face was enough to melt every bone in Jason’s body and stiffen everything else.
“I said I would,” he replied. “Here, let me carry those.”
He took the stack of books Rowan had collected, feeling like a high school boyfriend and rather liking it in spite of himself.
Certainly they made a striking pair. He wasn’t sure how, but even with his long multicolored hair, faintly glowing eyes, and pointed ears, Rowan had a tendency to pass mostly unnoticed in a crowd of humans. Those that saw he wasn’t average-looking reacted to him as they would any attractive male. Even in Austin there should have been more stares; the most he saw was a small child walking alongside her mother on Sixth Street, freezing mid-stride with wide wonder-filled eyes fixed on the Elf, who gave her a conspiratorial grin and walked on.
“How do you do that?” he finally asked.
Rowan lifted his eyes from the gardening book he was paging through. “Do what?”
“You blend in. I can’t feel any energy coming from you, so it can’t be a glamour. How do you do it?”
He gave the vampire an enigmatic smile. “Just because you can’t feel it doesn’t mean it isn’t there.”
“You’d have to be projecting on such a low level that a human certainly couldn’t detect it, if I can’t.”
“That’s precisely what I’m doing. I’m not actively trying to look normal, I’m just, as you said, blending in. It’s a very weak tendril of energy that shifts people’s perceptions a tiny bit. It doesn’t occur to them there’s anything unusual about me. Someone strongly psychic who was paying attention would see right through it. Children and animals usually can too.”
“And you can do that through the inhibitor?”
“On this setting, yes. On the highest, no. But I’m hoping never to need the highest setting—this one seems to work fine for fairly uneventful public outings." He handed Jason another book to add to the stack. "A perception shift like that is Magic 101 where I came from."
"You must miss it," Jason remarked, helping him up from the stool he had sat on to look through the plant books.
Rowan tilted his head to one side, considering. "I do, but in a way…if you could take the time I was captive out of the equation, I might still have wanted to see the human world someday. I heard so many legends as a child, and met a few Wanderers over the years with fantastic stories of great bodies of water with their own tides, and animals that don't exist in our forests. I'd still like to see an elephant."
"See, now, Indian food and Book People I could do on a date. Elephants will take some planning."
A laugh. Rowan kissed him lightly, but Jason used his free arm to catch the Elf and pull him closer, deepening the kiss. Rowan's teeth closed on his lower lip and tugged slightly, sending sensation through Jason that nearly made him drop the books.
There was a polite cough nearby, and Jason looked up to see a bookstore employee pointedly not looking at them, reshelving an armful of volumes. Beyond, there were a pair of little old ladies looking a bit too scandalized to be Austin natives.
"Are you ready to head back?" Jason all but purred into Rowan's ear.
"Your place or mine?"
"Mine."
"Where's the checkout?"
"Downstairs."
"Is there an elevator we can make out in?"
Jason seized the Elf's arm and pulled him along. "This way."
*****
Surrendering, he winds his arms around Rowan and kisses him deeply, lowering all his defenses, every last one, the sudden vulnerability shaking him inside and out. He is terrified of what the Elf can see, the bloody and violent recesses of his past exposed, every emotion as clear as the chapters of a book. Twice now tonight he has felt ashamed of what he is, when he had never questioned it before.
And twice, now, he has felt nothing in return but acceptance. He feels Rowan’s senses moving through him, the touch so intimate it multiplies his internal shivering. As deep as he goes, he still leaves some stones unturned, not even touching most of the memories. The level of respect and compassion shouldn’t surprise Jason, but still, it's a rare thing for someone to have the opportunity to plumb the depths of a vampire's mind and not take advantage.
He feels, rather than hears, what the Elf tells him: that this is how his kind work, that they only learn what they need to and never violate the sanctity of someone's mind. Besides, so much of love is in the talking—giving out stories and parts of oneself bit by bit, over time—that to learn it all at once would take years away from their walk together. The sound of a lover's voice is far too beautiful to sacrifice to expediency.
They are face to face, foreheads touching, shirtless and awash in the most peaceful feeling Jason can ever recall. He could lie like this forever, and he knows exactly how long forever is.
Rowan, on the other hand, has different plans.
As Jason had to him, he opens himself, one layer at a time as if undressing, the glimmering heat and light of his presence emerging from the tentative shields he has managed to regain in the last few months. Jason has had to admit that Sara was good for him; he would still need the inhibitor to leave the base, possibly forever, but his control over his powers has grown exponentially.
Breathless, Jason watches with his mind, his senses overwhelmed by the Elf, who slides into him so easily and completely that Jason nearly comes right then and there.
The energy settles into a flow, and Rowan chuckles, nuzzling his ear. "Liked that, did you?"
Jason's reply is a distinct affirmative, spoken with his tongue in the Elf's mouth. Amused, Rowan runs his energy through Jason's body in waves, stroking him from the inside, and it's nothing like the vampire has ever experienced—he moans, working his hips against Rowan's, wishing he could remember how to move his hands so he could get the rest of their clothes off.
Rowan, now completely calm and in control, eases Jason onto his back and with agonizing slowness unbuckles and zips, pulling cloth down over Jason's hips before echoing the motion with his own jeans. Appreciation travels through Jason's mind as the Elf stretches out beside him and his eyes wander solicitously over the terrain of Jason's body, admiring the way a sculptor might a virgin block of stone.
Jason does much the same, taking in the sinuous curve of the Elf's side, his narrow hips and surprisingly muscular torso, all proportioned slightly differently than a human but still perfect, somehow. His gaze travels down, memorizing, and—
He blinks.
Rowan sees him staring and smiles. "They're on the inside."
"No way."
"Yes."
Jason smiles back. "Too bad. I guess I'll just have to content myself with this…"
He reaches over and glides his hand up the length of Rowan's cock, making the Elf gasp and immediately harden in his grasp.
"I thought you didn't react this way," Jason murmurs, twisting so they're touching from shoulder to waist, his hand moving up and down, ghosting over the skin. "Aren't you supposed to have total control?"
Rowan's eyes are half-closed, his mouth open, and he doesn't seem to hear—his energy, too, is flickering like a light with a short in it, whatever plans he had temporarily derailed.
Jason takes the initiative, switching places with him, pushing him flat on his back, biting and licking his way along Rowan's collarbone, then tracing slow spirals over his chest. He pauses to suck on a nipple, and hears a soft cry, one he might mistake for pain if they weren't so tightly wound around each other's minds that any problem would set off blazing alarms.
Rowan's kind, the rethla, had their ways; they could absorb a partner's desires instantly through their psychic abilities—bu
t it's really not so arcane, if one is a telepath with a touch of empathy, and a window once opened can be climbed through in both directions.
The Elf is panting, unable to summon a coherent thought, and Jason smiles. He pauses in his downward descent for a moment, moving back up the bed to capture Rowan's mouth, and says to him mentally, [I told you you needed to learn to be loved…welcome to your first lesson.]
With that, he breaks the kiss, slides back down the length of Rowan's body, and lowers his mouth to suck.
The Agency, Volume II Page 4