by Noah Harris
“Konrad,” Fiona said, warning him when he brought up his advanced sense of smell, but fell silent when he felt Shaeffer’s hand fall on his shoulder; long-fingered, dainty, shiver-inducing. Shaeffer squeezed his shoulder, it was friendly, but there was something urgent in it.
“I came back here to…apologize. For getting too deep last night. I know coming here is, itself, too much,” he paused. “I wasn’t going to come up, but Fiona spotted me and called me over; she was worried. And then we were both worried. And maybe that was the right call, Konrad.”
“We just want you to be okay, Konrad,” Fiona said quietly, but Shaeffer continued.
“You don’t know this, but you’ve got blood all over your face. It looks like you smacked your nose on the way down.” Konrad covered his face with his hands abruptly, feeling his nose, which felt crooked and wrong. Another mistake, another injury. Was he imagining their argument? The blood was rushing in his ears, the sound only interrupted by Fiona clearing her throat loudly.
“I have to get back to Fort Anaheim.”
“Are you going to tell Clara?” Konrad asked, feeling like a child the second he asked it. He hoped Shaeffer didn’t view him as one, incapable of taking care of himself.
“Of course I am,” she said bitingly. “I’m leaving now, but I refuse to leave you here alone.” So she thought he was a child, too. He bit his tongue. “So, I’m deputizing this young man, because he is sincere and decent, and you don’t know a single other person who is.”
“I don’t know if…”
“I can take care of myself,” Konrad insisted, standing up and reaching out to where her voice had come from to start escorting her out the door. When he reached out to also grab Shaeffer, get them both out of the apartment, he slipped on the hardwood—he’d thought Shaeffer had been standing on his rug—and went down, legs flying in front of him. Gasps accompanied his fall. He caught himself before he landed too hard, but he felt a pain shoot up his back and grunted.
He said nothing, then nearly jumped when Fiona put a hot cup of something, coffee, in his hand.
“And there’s my point, thank you very much, Konrad.” He grumbled something, he wasn’t even sure what, it might’ve just been a furious growl, and she harrumphed. “I’ll be back in a few.”
“Fiona, are you sure…”
“I’m absolutely sure. You were down at his door for a reason, and here it is. Thank you for watching him. I’ll be back soon,” her voice faded as she walked across the apartment, and the last word was spoken in unison with the front door clicking shut. He could hear her heels tapping down the stairs, and then she was gone.
And they were alone. Konrad bent one leg, leaning on his knee, trying to look like he’d chosen to casually sit on the floor rather than having fallen on his ass.
“So, I guess you’re the deputy,” Konrad said mockingly. “Deputy Gipson.” Shuffling. “What are you going to do to me first?”
“Well,” Shaeffer said, and there was the sound of heavy objects being placed gently on glass table-tops, or at least, that was what it sounded like to Konrad. “I’m moving anything breakable…what is this?”
“Uh,” Konrad said, gesturing toward his eyes.
“Oh, right. Sorry. It’s, um, it’s a statue, jade, I think, of…oh, two dragons. I see it now.”
“Yeah,” Konrad said, feeling irritated from sitting there as Shaeffer renovated his apartment.
“So, I’m moving things that are breakable, and I’m moving…furniture,” he grunted, and the legs of something scraped the wood floor. “To create paths for you to follow, soft ones, so you don’t hurt yourself.”
“I’m not going to fucking hurt myself. I’m not a child,” he snapped, and then the movements and sounds ceased.
“If you don’t want to break some other bone or maybe shatter your nose completely, you’ll let me do this.” Exasperation. “If you want to help, tell me what would be helpful for you. I don’t know your habits, your favorite, I don’t know, chair or something. If you want to help you can talk and answer questions, but otherwise you’re going to sit on the ground and stay put until I’m done.”
Konrad opened his mouth to protest and then closed it, grumbling. He couldn’t be mad at Shaeffer, he hadn’t been ordering him around rudely, he was only being efficient.
“So, tell me, when you’re relaxing at home, where do you usually sit?”
“The armchair I was sitting on last night,” Konrad said slowly, imagining its plush cushions in his mind.
“Right,” Shaeffer said, and Konrad caught a hint of discomfort in his voice. “So, I’m going to put that one at the end of this pathway I’ve created from your couch and some tables. Surprised by how fast Shaeffer had moved things around, Konrad nodded, grumbling a thank you.
At this point, he was just going to let Shaeffer do what he wanted to do. Good Samaritan or something more, he’d just fallen on his ass in front of him. There was no way he could get more embarrassed than he already had been and Shaeffer had stuck around regardless, so he clearly didn’t care about seeing Konrad vulnerable, didn’t think him less of a man. He was just taking care of him.
“Why are you taking care of me?” Konrad asked, and Shaeffer stilled. Then he heard his footsteps approach. “I really don’t need it. It’s a little embarrassing,” he gestured to all of himself, his wounds as well as his position on the ground. “But I really can take care of myself. I just need to get my bearings.”
“It’s not embarrassing. Are you embarrassed?”
“I mean,” Konrad laughed derisively, and Shaeffer sighed thoughtfully.
“Why? It happens. People get hurt, people fall and hurt themselves, people lose and regain their eyesight every day.”
“Yeah, but I don’t need all this extra help,” Konrad protested, but Shaeffer cut him off.
“What’s embarrassing is being too proud to ask for help. What’s embarrassing is acting dramatic.” There was silence, and Konrad knew that Shaeffer, like him, was thinking about their dramatics last night. The stripping on the bed, Konrad asking him to stay the night, as if they’d known one another for more than a few hours, Shaeffer running out of the apartment because…well, he still didn’t know why. It had been…too much.
He heard Shaeffer settle on some piece of furniture, the couch from the sound of it, right next to him. Neither of them talked, but Konrad could hear Shaeffer breathing, his heart beating like he was nervous. Then he stood back up and started moving stuff around, tables right beside Konrad.
“Anyway,” he said, and Konrad looked up in the direction of his voice even though he moved only a moment later. “I’m probably going to get fired before I get a chance to tell my agent to fuck off. I flaked out on a job this afternoon. Now that’s embarrassing. Getting fired from the easiest job on the planet. Not that it matters. I never wanted to do this, model. Not like you with your art.”
“What did you want to do?” Konrad asked gently, feeling like he’d felt last night. Like he was seeing Shaeffer’s soul through his words, like his intonations and the breaths he took in between his words were secrets he was revealing, one by one.
“I always wanted to…it’s kind of silly.”
“I’m sure it’s not.”
“I always wanted to be a professional organizer. I never thought it was a real job when I was young, I just liked organizing things. And then I found all those shows, the people that help hoarders and big families with lots of kids and all their stuff, and…” he paused, cleared his throat. “And other kinds of people who need help organizing and navigating their home.”
“Disabled people,” Konrad said quietly and somewhat bitterly, knowing that was what Shaeffer had meant. Shaeffer didn’t seem to hear him, though, seemingly inspired enough by his reminiscing to keep working on Konrad’s apartment.
“I’m moving this big leafy plant to the left side of your apartment, near the window but behind this little mahogany table. It’s got the wire mesh basket on the bottom
, and you have some art magazines in there.”
“Okay.”
“And I’m putting all your picture frames on this table. It’s got, uh, I think concrete on top.” Konrad could hear him running his hand along the surface, then the tapping of his frames being stacked upon it.
“Yeah.”
“Okay, perfect,” Shaeffer said slowly, and then a few moments passed. Konrad was about to ask him if he was almost done, and then Shaeffer clapped his hands. It startled Konrad, but he didn’t let on. “All done! Ready?”
“Uh,” Konrad said, and then he felt Shaeffer’s hands on his shoulders. He traced them gently, helpfully, down to his hands, and then lifted him to his feet. Konrad tried not to let the goosebumps get to him.
“We’re going to walk from here, the living room, to the kitchen, and count the steps, so you don’t knock into anything. Okay?”
“Okay,” Konrad said, struggling to focus on anything but Shaeffer’s hand holding his, warm and soft.
“Okay. Let’s go. One, two, three, careful, let me move this, four, five, six,” Shaeffer said, continuing. Konrad could hear his heart beating, stable and consistent, reassuring, as they walked. “Perfect. So here’s the island. You should be able to navigate the kitchen as long as you continually mark where you are with the island.” Konrad nodded, and Shaeffer grasped his hand tighter. “Now to the…bedroom. That’s next in the path.”
“Right,” Konrad said, his throat tight. Shaeffer counted as they went, but as they walked toward the bedroom, the place where it happened last night, Konrad couldn’t focus on anything but Shaeffer’s body next to him, smelling like flowery cologne and his own personal brand of musk, the heat of his body emanating against Konrad’s as they brushed against one another.
“Almost there, eighteen, nineteen,” Shaeffer said. Konrad thought of Shaeffer last night, as he had dozens of times already subconsciously. Sheaffer kneeling on his bed peeling his clothes off, the moonlight lighting up each part of his body, each inch of skin that he revealed, touching himself, all for Konrad. He could remember, as he felt both of their palms get slick with sweat as they approached the bedroom, Shaeffer holding his cock in both hands, looking up at him so admiringly, so openly, his breath catching in his throat. Konrad knew, now, suddenly, as if someone had injected the truth into his bloodstream, that Shaeffer had wanted to give in completely last night. He’d just been too scared.
Shaeffer pulled him gently to the right, as they began to turn a corner, and then stopped short.
“Shit, I forgot,” he said quickly, but Konrad had already collided with him, pressing his entire front against Shaeffer’s back, his erection, which he’d only just noticed, pressing against Shaeffer’s ass. His lungs froze, his whole body cold except for his face, which felt like it was on fire, just like last night after the explosion, delirious and semi-conscious. Could Shaeffer feel him pressing against him? He was embarrassed, slightly, by being found out, but the dragon inside him, hiding from the pain of his blindness, stretched and growled.
He wanted Shaeffer to know how badly he still wanted him, even after everything, even though he knew nothing could happen now, or ever.
“Oh,” Shaeffer mumbled breathlessly, standing still for a moment, and then turning around so slowly Konrad’s cock dragged around his body as he rotated. They were facing one another now, and even though Konrad couldn’t see him, he could smell him, the sudden lust. Then Shaeffer was walking around him, pulling Konrad after him slowly until they reached the kitchen, and the island. He gently pressed Konrad against the countertop and then leaned in, bringing his hot mouth up to Konrad’s ear.
Konrad breathed harshly as Shaeffer dragged his tongue around the curl of his ear and down his neck. He reached out, grabbing Shaeffer’s ass and pulling him hard against him. Shaeffer gasped in his ear, and it sounded louder than it had last night, amplified, the rest of his senses sharper. He felt every drag of Shaeffer’s fingers, heard every breathy exhale. The scent of Shaeffer’s arousal was almost overpowering, like a drug.
Then he was gone, but not really, his hands were still there, sliding down Konrad’s stomach to the waistband of his jeans, unbuttoning them slowly. He pulled them down and Konrad felt his cock spring forward, taken almost wholly in Shaeffer’s mouth the moment it was free of its restraints. Konrad imagined himself with his eyes closed, now, letting Shaeffer’s mouth and tongue work their magic on him, distracting him from the pain, the helplessness, the desperation to see again. He didn’t need to see now. He was in charge, Shaeffer was on his knees just for him, doing whatever he could to get Konrad to explode.
Shaeffer pulled back, letting his tongue trail to the tip before standing up. A light ruffle of air against his skin told him Shaeffer was undressing. He could feel the tickle of the fabric as Shaeffer pulled off and discarded his clothing. Then he came close again, and Konrad could feel Shaeffer’s own erection, rock-hard and throbbing, against his own. Konrad reached out, pulling him into his arms, and Shaeffer reached down to wrap his fingers around both their cocks as they ground against one another, slowly, torturously slowly.
“Fuck,” Konrad grunted, letting his hands wander as Shaeffer rubbed against him. His dragon was getting impatient, rising in his chest, fire building and Konrad, too, was groaning against Shaeffer’s neck, biting it. Shaeffer whimpered in response and then pulled away, leaving Konrad alone and cold. “Shaeffer,” he said warningly, hearing Shaeffer skittering across his apartment. Then he heard the door lock, and Shaeffer returned to him, picking up their clothes and dragging him carefully through the maze and around the forgotten knick-knacks to his bedroom.
He let Konrad down on the bed, helping him feel for it, and then Konrad could feel his legs brushing against his knees as he stood in front of him.
“Are you sure about this?” His hand reached out and traced Konrad’s scabbed cheek.
“I was sure last night. You were the one who got things confused.” He heard Shaeffer laugh, not one of shame but one of admittance.
“True enough.” He leaned down and kissed Konrad, finally, and Konrad growled into his mouth, reaching up to pull him on top of him. Every movement, every touch, was intense, turned up to ten. Every touch of his warm fingers, every cold, harsh exhale on his shoulder, every wet kiss on his chest. Shaeffer straddled him, once again pressing their lengths together and rolling his hips.
“In the drawer,” Konrad rasped, and Shaeffer laughed, hopping off him. The bed shook as he climbed over to the side table, the crinkle of wrappers as he grabbed a condom.
“Ready?”
“Didn’t I tell you I’ve been ready?” Konrad asked impatiently, jokingly, and Shaeffer tore it open. The condom was cold on the tip of Konrad’s member, and Shaeffer rolled it down lovingly, squeezing and stroking as he went until Konrad couldn’t take it anymore. He was nearly writhing on the bed, the pleasure in the dark too much to handle. Then Shaeffer was on top of him, Konrad’s cock in his guiding hand. Tenderly he mounted him, sliding down slowly, whimpering.
“Feels bigger than I expected,” he gasped, and Konrad grasped his thighs tightly.
“Take your…time,” he choked out, pressing his head into the mattress. “Fuck.” Shaeffer leaned down, pressing his hands against Konrad’s chest, kissing his face, letting himself slide lower and lower on Konrad’s cock. He whined into Konrad’s ear, breathing heavily, and then started to move up and down.
“Oh, my…” Shaeffer gasped, speeding up a fraction, then another. Konrad growled, digging his fingers into Shaeffer’s thighs, his ass. Finally, Shaeffer sped up, going faster, faster than Konrad had expected him to go, slamming his hips against Konrad’s.
Konrad reached up and wrapped his arms around Shaeffer, pulling him down as he thrust upward. Shaeffer moaned, resting his chin on top of Konrad’s head. Konrad rested his forehead on Shaeffer’s firm chest, listening to his heartbeat as he pushed himself harder and harder in and out of Shaeffer’s entrance.
It was starting to buil
d, no, it was nearly there, and the dragon inside him roared, bellowed, fire gushing from its jaws. Konrad lost control as he listened to Shaeffer shout his name. Konrad, Konrad, oh! Konrad! He pushed himself further inside Shaeffer, feeling himself explode, the sensation making the darkness surrounding him seem like pure sunlight.
“Oh!” Shaeffer yelped, and Konrad felt him shoot ropes of fluid on his chest as he knotted inside him, the condom snapping open. “Oh, my…oh, my god,” Shaeffer shook, and Konrad knew he was orgasming harder than he ever had because of the unfamiliar, intense pleasure of his knot filling him up. His own orgasm was ebbing and flowing, but Shaeffer was all that mattered, all he could hear and feel.
Shaeffer collapsed on top of him, breathing heavily.
“Are you…are you tested?” he asked quietly, like a regret.
“Yes. Don’t worry. I am.” Shaeffer nodded, obviously relaxing against him.
“Good, because I don’t want to move.” Konrad was glad, he didn’t want to either and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to with his knot still so swollen inside Shaeffer. The thing niggling him at the back of his mind, though, wasn’t whether either of them was tested. It was how he would explain a pregnancy to the very-human, clearly-naïve Shaeffer, even though it was unlikely for a first encounter.
They lay there for a few moments until Konrad was finally able to pull out, and Shaeffer leaned down, kissing each of his scabbed-over eyes, before crawling off the bed. He listened to him pad across the apartment, and then the bathroom door shut.
Konrad carefully got up, using his sheets to wipe himself off, and then reached over the side of the bed, groping around for his clothes. He found his pants, his boxers inside them, and pulled them on, as well as his shirt.
“Your clothes are out here,” he called to Shaeffer, and Shaeffer laughed from inside the bathroom. Music. Konrad leaned back on his bed, listening to Shaeffer shuffle around in the other room, cleaning himself off. The sound of jingling keys pulled him out of his pleasant, mindless listening to Shaeffer’s household song, and he sat up abruptly.