by Watts, Mia
Koda finished his soup and put down the gourd.
Flynn crossed his legs, folding his hands in front of his junk. Koda followed the movement.
“You like men, and you’re a proud man,” Flynn said after a moment.
Koda met his gaze. “You cannot be a proud man and like men,” he countered, though a twinkle lit his eyes.
Understanding dawned. Proud man was their description for warrior. Ah, well that makes a lot more sense. “Don’t ask, don’t tell, huh?”
Koda seemed to consider his words. Finally, he nodded. “You have strange words and strange ways of speaking about common practices.”
Flynn leaned forward. “In your tribe, men who like other men don’t tell others, they hide it. Especially when they are warriors,” he concluded.
Koda lifted his chin in agreement. “To speak of such things suggests you were overlooked as the priest’s lover. A tahila is chosen, Flynn. A man who is not a tahila, and is not a warrior, is nothing.”
“Wow, that sucks.”
Confusion knit Koda’s brow.
Flynn now understood Amaro’s rage. If kissing were the mark of a lover, and Amaro had gotten off on it, his position in his tribe would be shaky at best. If Amaro had fooled Koda into believing he didn’t have leanings toward homosexuality, then likely Koda hadn’t revealed his homosexuality to Amaro, either.
“Well aren’t I just the little catalyst?” Flynn muttered under his breath.
He thought he’d said it in English, but he could no longer be sure. The words that didn’t translate no longer seemed much of a problem. It was just the usage of words, like sucks, that meant something else entirely to Koda and Amaro.
As far as shifting into fox form, he wasn’t sure what had caused that. Perhaps the contact with lightning had overloaded him somehow, and he had defensively shifted in his unconsciousness. Whatever had happened, it was the sum total of irregular events that had him stumped. Flynn rolled to his side on the fur pallet. His head still throbbed from the strike that had knocked him out. He stared into the depths of the fire, appreciating Koda’s silence from the other side.
First he’d rest, then he’d try to find a way to get home. Or to the hotel.
* * * *
Flynn rolled to his back as the twitter of insanely happy birds chattered feet from the cave opening. He thought again about the things that didn’t add up.
He hadn’t heard a plane fly overhead, or the hustle of nearby traffic. Amaro and Koda hadn’t slipped up either. Nothing they carried, said, or did spoke of modern conveniences. Flynn had a distant memory of faraway stories involving Woodhenge being called the Portal of the Gods and myths of movement between this world and the next beginning there. His mind still wrestled with the inconsistencies he’d already seen around Woodhenge. He knew there weren’t two of them. He also remembered being struck by lightning, yet he had no burn marks or blisters on his skin. Hell, maybe he was already dead.
Flynn didn’t like the direction his thoughts had taken, and he pushed them aside to ponder over, later. He dragged his fixed gaze from the flickering hearth to Koda, who sat quietly watching him, just as he had the night before when Flynn drifted into sleep.
He’d stopped trying to make sense of how he could easily communicate using a language he wasn’t born with. There wasn’t a reasonable explanation. Nor was there one for why there hadn’t been a road or any sign of civilization at Woodhenge when he’d shifted back. His brain hadn’t tried to define the differences, mostly because Flynn felt ridiculous playing sci-fi what-if.
What he did define, was the unspoken shame in the man across from him. It had been prevalent since their conversation about sexuality in Koda’s culture. Flynn had lived that once, and wouldn’t do it again. He’d noted Koda’s curiosity in the differentness of Flynn’s body. For now, he’d start with that.
Koda held out a gourd bowl with what smelled like corn meal mush. Flynn sniffed it then followed Koda’s lead by scooping some with his fingers and tasting it. Bland, grainy mush coated his tongue.
“This would benefit from some salt,” Flynn muttered.
Koda got up. Taking a blackened branch from the fire, he pulled out a stone knife and chipped the blackened char into Flynn’s bowl. Flynn looked at him skeptically.
“Mix,” Koda told him.
Flynn mixed the mush and took another bite. The grainy crunch of ash did add salt. Unfortunately, it still wasn’t flavorful. “Mmm,” he told Koda anyway.
Maybe it was pity. Maybe it was budding friendship with a hefty dose of lust. Maybe it was self-preservation and trying to win over his captor to gain his freedom, but Flynn’s curiosity wouldn’t be held back any longer.
He’d never been a promiscuous man, but he wanted Koda’s hands on him the way he’d had Amaro’s. He didn’t know how much time he had left until Amaro came back to take his watch, but it couldn’t be long. If seducing Koda netted Flynn freedom to move around outside the cave, so be it. It was a win-win situation, right?
Flynn put down the bowl, and leaned back on his hands, giving Koda an unobstructed view of his naked body. Koda had been interested in looking at him last night. Maybe some of that curiosity lingered.
Koda’s gaze strayed to Flynn’s groin.
“You’re curious,” Flynn said. He smiled at Koda. “Go ahead. Look.”
As Koda’s gaze drank him in, Flynn’s cock filled and lifted. Koda’s perusal stilled on Flynn’s penis.
“What are you curious about?” Flynn asked after a moment.
“You are very pale. Why did the gods remove you before your skin finished baking?”
“My skin is finished. Come touch me and see for yourself,” Flynn encouraged.
Koda gave him only a parting look of skepticism before he crawled toward Flynn. Koda scooted close, just shy of touching, and sat by Flynn’s hip. He stayed perfectly still, turning his head toward Koda, but not challenging him with a direct look.
“Don’t try to leave your testing.”
Ah, the requisite warnings of dire consequences.
“Our people need you, and the gods have heard our cries. You were brought to defeat Manaba’s reign, but our people won’t follow you if you’re not at least his equal.” Koda cautiously ran the tips of his fingers through Flynn’s hair. “You’ve been given beauty and form for the task, but they’ve left your training to us.”
“Why would they do that?” Flynn asked, wanting Koda to think about how preposterous it sounded to send a savior who wasn’t ready for battle. “Why wouldn’t they just send a man who knew what he was doing?”
“Knowledge doesn’t provide wisdom.”
Flynn blinked. “I think I read that in a fortune cookie once.”
Koda’s curious fingers pushed gently at Flynn’s shoulder, seeming to test the resilience of his flesh. They dragged lower, over his ribcage. Flynn twitched and laughed. Koda smiled, nodding his head with approval.
His hand fell away as it reached Flynn’s hip. Only his eyes continued the journey, his lips parting as his gaze came to rest on his cock again. Flynn had no illusions about Koda’s interest.
“Go ahead,” he murmured.
Koda barely brushed the length of Flynn’s cock with the same three fingertips.
Flynn bit back a groan at the feather light tickle. “Touch me, Koda.”
Chapter Six
He was touching the god-man. He wanted to touch so much more! Never had he been given permission to touch another man so intimately as this. He half-feared his fingers would shrivel and curl like burning vines. When nothing painful happened, he carefully slipped his fingers beneath the heavy weight of pale cock until it rested on his palm.
Flynn made a choking sound, much the same way Koda would make if Flynn were to touch him. His eyes sought the priest’s. Bright and green, his direct look didn’t frighten him, it fascinated him. Did he see things the same as Koda did? How did the world appear to a man whose eyes were filled with layers of green and gold?
/> There was no hesitation in Flynn’s bold stare. Perhaps he wasn’t made like Manaba and the other priests. Perhaps testing wasn’t necessary. Flynn didn’t seem timid having a man touch him. The other priests had to have their chastity confirmed with long rounds of testing. Long days of no female contact lest their purity be compromised by a priest lusting for a woman.
Koda saw no evidence that this man would lust for any female. The idea of it, of freely touching Flynn without restraint, made his cock achingly eager. The loin cloth bound him uncomfortably, and he shifted up on one hip, his knee accidentally brushing Flynn’s thigh.
“Koda, don’t be shy. Touch whatever you want. I like your hands on me.” He nodded to the proof, proudly erect between his thighs. “I’d like you to touch me a whole lot more.”
Koda cupped Flynn’s penis. His knee lightly rested on Flynn’s thigh, and Koda leaned in. He kept his eyes on Flynn’s until he was too close to his neck to see him.
Flynn smelled different than other men. Warriors carried the aroma of earth and sweat. Though Flynn was far from being a child, he smelled like the tribe children after they’d splashed in the creek bed, but slightly tangy. He didn’t know this smell.
Experimentally, Koda darted out his tongue to see if he tasted tangy too. Flynn gasped, his body tensed, but he didn’t try to escape, and Koda did it again. This time he flicked his tongue on the outside curve of Flynn’s neck. His skin tasted sweet, Koda decided.
The man shuddered at the tiny licks, and Koda felt absurdly powerful.
His hand closed around the shaft. He’d noticed that Flynn’s penis looked different than his. Not just pale, but the exposed head seemed strangely bold.
He sat up to examine Flynn’s cock. His thumb stroked the darkening tip, smoothing the moisture in a way he knew would get a favorable response, since he’d touched himself this way often.
Flynn’s head dropped back, closing his eyes as he surrendered to Koda. He let go of the cock to tug at Flynn’s thighs, until he uncrossed his legs and opened them. Then Koda pushed his hands on Flynn’s chest, laying him back.
Like this, Koda had full view, and command, of the priest’s body. He just didn’t know what to do with it. He knew he liked stroking his own cock, and from what was told earlier, Amaro had already done that. What else did a man do with such a feast before him?
He sat back on his heels, where he’d taken position between Flynn’s splayed legs. Pressure built behind Koda’s chest as frustration took hold.
“Flynn-priest, what is done between men?” he asked, feeling foolish. He and Amaro had been given the honor of directing a god among men, and he didn’t know how to proceed. His failure stung.
Flynn sat up. “I can show you.”
Flynn scooted closer, slowly bringing his hands up to cup Koda’s arms. Instinct told Koda to free himself, that this could become a hold to overpower him, but the look in the other man’s eyes gave a different message.
He stroked Koda’s biceps, rubbed over his shoulders, buried his fingers in Koda’s hair, almost painfully. Koda refused to flinch. Flynn dragged him down, hesitating just enough to let Koda push him away if he chose.
A kiss. Flynn wished to kiss him. A forbidden flutter tickled his gut.
“I know to your people a kiss between men could be bad for you. For mine, it’s what two people who are attracted to one another do when they want to get closer,” Flynn said. “May I kiss you, Koda?”
He studied the pale pink lips, so close to his. Flowering like a warm promise, the husky whispered confession that Flynn wanted a connection, undid him.
“Yes.”
He chuckled. “Tell me if you like it.”
Did Flynn truly wish to talk with their faces so near? Wouldn’t conversation be better served when they could look at each other without the distraction of nakedness? Mildly irritated with yet another unimportant distraction, Koda grumbled. “I will like it. Kiss me now.”
Flynn’s bright green eyes flared with lust. Roughly dragging Koda forward, their lips crashed together. Flynn wrapped a free arm around his shoulders and dragged Koda to the ground on top of him.
At first, Koda panicked, fighting to get away, until he realized Flynn wasn’t doing anything more than holding him, kissing him. He relaxed, accepted the feel of the man beneath him, marveled at how they breathed together. Flynn’s lips softened, and their mouths slid together.
Tentatively, Koda kissed him back. He’d kissed women. Kissing Flynn was not the same, and yet it was done the same.
His hands coursed down Koda’s spine. Did he mean to disarm him of his knife? He discarded doubt when large, hot hands clutched his ass and squeezed. Koda groaned, rocked his pelvis against Flynn’s. Thought stuttered on the sublime feeling of his hard cock grinding on the other man’s.
He couldn’t help himself. Flynn’s coaxing lips and tongue, his easy acceptance of Koda’s desires, his hands kneading Koda’s ass as though it were dough for flatbread, overwhelmed him. Koda rocked hard, humping Flynn’s cock, certain he was making a fool of himself and equally as certain he couldn’t resist. Another grind prickled his skin with cold and hot and intense satisfaction.
Flynn rolled them, pinning him to the hard cave floor. “Not so fast, sweetheart. I want to enjoy you a little.”
It sounded like a threat, and Koda struggled, especially when Flynn tugged at the loincloth. Koda grabbed at his hands.
“Hey, easy, Koda. You’ll like this.” He panted as he spoke. Those were not the words of a threat.
Flynn gave up on the tie and pulled at the fabric of the loin cloth. Koda slipped the leather free, and his cock sprang into the cool cave air. He’d always been proud of his endowments, but seeing the way Flynn looked at him made his chest burst with renewed pride.
Flynn pulled back the foreskin from the rim of Koda’s cock head and did something amazing. He took Koda in his mouth. Deeper, deeper he engulfed him. Koda swallowed his garbled groan, his fingers scrabbling in the dirt only to give up and find purchase in Flynn’s unusual hair.
He clutched Flynn’s head on either side. Koda’s eyes rolled back. Light exploded behind his eyelids as Flynn began to move, completely stealing Koda’s air.
Koda vaguely heard the pathetic whimpering sounds and womanly cries of ecstasy that surely couldn’t have been his own. Flynn’s mouth dragged up and down Koda’s cock. His tongue swirled the tip, dipping in the tiny hole at the top, then back down again. Flynn’s throat worked, swallowing, his nose buried into Koda’s pelvis, then up again, cool air tormenting the naked wet base only to be swallowed down. Over and over Flynn took him.
Koda fisted Flynn’s hair. Flynn grunted, but Koda couldn’t seem to let go. All he knew was he wanted the bright pin point of pleasure to ignite. Flynn pulled up to the tip of Koda’s shaft, pumping the moistened base with his tight fist. Pleasure burst into flame. Flynn cupped his balls, stroking them.
With a mighty cry, Koda bucked his hips into the promise of Flynn’s mouth as his seed shot from him in thick jets. Flynn never let go, taking Koda’s essence into himself, stroking the shaft and flicking his tongue on the flared rim to coax out every last drop.
Koda fell back, staring up in wonder. The branches covering the mouth of the cave rustled suddenly and Amaro appeared through them.
Flynn glanced over from his place over Koda’s wet penis.
Koda cringed. The shock on Amaro’s face brought back the feelings of shame Flynn had chased away.
“What is this?” Amaro demanded.
“Mouth sex,” Flynn answered dryly. There was another word for it, in English, but his ability to draw forth words he grew up speaking every day, had become increasingly difficult. He gave up trying, using words that were readily available and native.
Amaro looked doubtful. “You’ve begun the preparation?”
Flynn cocked an eyebrow. “This is testing? I think you need to explain a few things.”
His recent conquest struggled to sit up. Flynn got comforta
ble, nuzzling Koda’s balls, tracking a hand up his torso to rub his flat nipples. Koda stopped struggling.
Amaro walked around them, looking with interest at what Flynn was doing. When Flynn daringly took Koda’s balls into his mouth and suckled, both men gasped.
Amaro whipped out a bone knife, grabbed Flynn’s hair, and held the cutting edge tight against his throat. “Release him!”
Flynn let the prize fall from his lips. The blade eased and Flynn was able to swallow. Flynn shook. He’d almost forgotten that he was a captive, even if they thought he was a living god of sorts.
Koda grunted. “You shouldn’t stop what you don’t understand,” he said hoarsely to Amaro. Koda lifted his hips, nudging Flynn’s chin with his groin.
Amaro still crouched over Flynn, but seemed to take Koda’s motion as permission to continue and his dark glare as a warning not to interrupt again.
Cautiously, Flynn took the sac into his fear-dried mouth. Amaro had snatched the fun right out of the moment, and turned it into awkwardness. Koda’s gaze pulled from looking over Flynn’s shoulder, to looking at Flynn. Intensity burned in his chocolate gaze as Flynn took the first tentative strokes with his tongue.
He held the man’s balls in his mouth. Though it could have been a demeaning position, it was, in fact, one of power. He could hurt Koda, or he could continue showing him one of many ways men could make love together. Koda licked his lips as his breathing sped. Sometimes it shuddered, his ribs jerking into an inhalation, need for air warring with sensation for control of his lungs. Koda’s eyes almost stared through Flynn’s.
His mouth no longer dry, Flynn laved and nuzzled Koda eagerly. He enjoyed watching the man squirm and his flagging cock fill sluggishly with renewed interest. Flynn wondered how far Koda and Amaro would let him take this. His cock burned for release, ached to shaft the firm, copper ass that clenched with pleasure beneath Flynn’s efforts.
Amaro had changed positions yet again. He squatted near Flynn’s head, apparently fascinated by what he saw.