by Jane Kindred
Belphagor stared down at the cigarette he was turning between his fingers. “How did we end up talking about me and Vasily?”
“Lev and I will be all right. We’ve worked things out. I’ve told him he can play with you on his own if he likes. As long as it’s only play. But that firespirit of yours isn’t going to see it that way. So I suggest you make things right with him before you have any more lapses in judgment, with Lev or anyone else. And if you don’t intend to take your relationship with him as seriously as he’s obviously taken it, you should let him go now before you really do some damage.”
This wasn’t the conversation Belphagor had expected to have. He swallowed uncomfortably. “I do take it seriously. More seriously than I’ve ever taken anything in my life. He knows that. It’s never been a game with him.”
Dmitri lifted his brow. “Well, you’d better find a way to let him know that everything else is. Own who you are, Belphagor. And then own him the way he wants to be owned. Or you’re going to lose him.”
The good-bye with Vasily before he headed for the train station felt like an irrevocable parting. Worse than he’d felt the last time they’d fallen after deliberately hurting Vasily to keep him safe while he’d returned to Heaven to clear Vasily’s name. At least then, while it was, as usual, his own doing, he knew Vasily needed and wanted him. He’d left his boy hurt and angry, but Vasily had been angry because he loved Belphagor, not because he…maybe…couldn’t anymore.
While Dmitri and Lev made themselves scarce—after Belphagor said his very chaste good-bye to Lev—they stood in the entryway of the apartment, Vasily with his hands in his pockets, looking down at his feet.
Belphagor handed him an envelope.
Vasily’s gaze darted upward and down again as he took it. “What’s this?”
“Dmitri’s going to set up an account for you, as we discussed. But it might take a few days before you can access it. He has to get you an identity.”
“An identity?”
“Official papers so you can travel and rent property without arousing suspicion. Which will also make it easier for you to get home, actually. If you intend to return to the portal on your own, you’ll need to buy tickets for the train, since I won’t be there to influence them for you.” He held his breath, afraid Vasily would say he wouldn’t be going home.
Vasily’s eyes widened as he opened the envelope and saw the stack of bills.
“That’s just to tide you over until the account is ready.”
“How much is this in facets?”
“Just a handful. The ruble isn’t worth much at the moment, so it looks like more than it is.” He didn’t mention that a handful of facets would probably keep Vasily and Silk comfortably for a year in Russia. In reality, this was the value of just a half-carat crystal, and it hadn’t come from his stash. He’d kept accounts in the world of Man for decades, nicely maturing. They’d gotten significantly smaller with the collapse of the Soviet Union, but not all of his accounts were in Russia. He still had enough to support a number of demons indefinitely if the idea took him.
“I’ll send word to Dmitri when I find anything out.” It took every bit of control he had to keep his voice steady. “And you’ll keep Dmitri apprised of your whereabouts.”
Vasily nodded, and they stared at one another in silence.
“Well,” said Belphagor finally with a brusque nod. “I’ll see you.”
He turned and headed for the stairs, silently willing Vasily to come after him, to say he’d changed his mind. But there was no sound of pursuit behind him as he descended. There was nothing at all.
Belphagor had left him without a backward glance. Vasily gripped the envelope in his hand so tightly he was crushing the paper bills. Just as before, it was so easy for him to leave. And to take Vasily’s heart with him, crushed on the bottom of his boot.
He closed the door and crammed the envelope into his pocket, heading back to check on Silk. His color was better, and he’d actually eaten some kasha this morning without it coming back up.
He smiled weakly at Vasily. “Hey, Ruby. Guess that’s not really your name, is it?”
Vasily smiled back. “Doesn’t matter. I like hearing you say it.” He sat at the edge of the bed. “What about you? Has Silk always been your name?”
The weak smile faded a bit. “It’s the name I chose.”
“It suits you.”
Silk relaxed visibly, and a self-effacing laugh escaped him. “Not right now.” He rubbed one of his arms with a grimace. “I’m a bit rough and grimy at the moment. Think you could help me get a bath?”
“They have a shower, here, actually. Come on, I’ll show you.” He helped Silk out of the bed and down the hall to the bathroom, the shorter demon leaning heavily against him. Dmitri and Lev were still hiding out in their bedroom, apparently having expected Vasily to fly into a rage at Belphagor’s departure.
He got the water warm for Silk while the other demon sat on the edge of the tub watching with fascination. “Do you need help with anything?” he asked when the water was ready. “I can give you your privacy—”
“I bathed you, Ruby.” Silk winked as he slipped out of the borrowed nightshirt. “The least you could do is reciprocate.” Vasily blushed, offering him a hand to help him into the bath, and Silk held on to it once he was standing under the water. “Aren’t you going to join me?”
“I’ve already had a shower,” he stammered.
Silk let go and tilted his head back under the spray, letting his unkempt hair soak up the water until it was flat against his head and the water was streaming over him. Vasily couldn’t help staring at the fading bruises and cuts, evidence that Silk had taken a vicious beating for him. More than ever, he wanted to take care of him.
With the plastic curtain still open, Vasily’s shirt was getting soaked. He took it off and laid it aside, and Silk’s eyes opened as he stepped out of his house shoes and pants.
“Let me get your hair,” he said at Silk’s quizzical smile and stepped in, closing the curtain. He took the shampoo from the side of the tub and poured some into his hand. It reminded him of the oil Belphagor used as a lubricant, and there was no way to hide the effect this thought had on him as he reached out to lather Silk’s hair.
Silk turned to let him get the back, his own slim cock perking up in front of him. He tipped back against Vasily as if tottering on his feet, and Vasily caught him. Silk let out a sigh, rubbing his back against Vasily’s erection. Vasily closed his arms around the soft skin, foamy lather running down Silk’s front from Vasily’s hands into the curly brown hair around his cock.
Shivering in his arms in the steaming water, Silk let his head rest against Vasily’s chest. “Damn, you feel good.”
“I shouldn’t be doing this,” Vasily murmured.
“Why?” asked Silk. “Because of Belphagor? He just left you. Again. And he was fooling around on you in the next room last night.” Silk’s body, soft and sleek like his namesake, was slipping against him. “And this is only a bath.”
Vasily’s arms tightened around him. “You heard everything that happened?”
“I’ve been sick,” said Silk. “Not dead.” He arched slightly, the movement encouraging Vasily’s cock to settle in the hollow at the small of his back. “Soap me up?” whispered Silk, taking the bar of soap from the little rack in front of them. Vasily closed his hand around it and ran it over Silk’s smooth chest, the dark nipples peaking at his touch while Silk let out a soft moan. He stroked downward over Silk’s abs, hesitating at his groin. Silk took the soap from him and lathered himself. His erection stood out prominently, slick and waiting.
Vasily enclosed it in his hand. Silk’s moan this time was louder. Steam rose around them. It was no more than Belphagor had done with Lev. He began to stroke, his own erection painfully hard against the cleft of Silk’s ass.
“Soap yourself up,” Silk whispered.
Vasily shook his head. The bitter truth was that it was no more than Belp
hagor might do with anyone given half a chance, but it didn’t feel right. And Silk had been through too much. He felt funny just touching him, afraid he was taking advantage. “I can’t.”
Silk turned in his arms and looked up at him. “Your hand’s big enough for both of us.” Vasily’s eyes widened, and Silk made plain what he meant by putting Vasily’s hand around the shaft of his own cock and pressing himself against him. Vasily had to bend his knees a bit to make it work, but he pressed Silk back against the tiled wall and gathered Silk’s cock against his, groaning softly at the contact. “I want to watch you come,” Silk whispered. “Make us both come.”
Vasily flattened his left hand against the tile beside Silk’s head and began to stroke them both, the smooth, slick hardness of Silk’s cock against his own a Heavenly sensation. He pumped them both rapidly, groaning, and Silk stretched his arms out to the sides, pressing his palms to the tile, grunting softly with excitement, his eyes on Vasily’s.
“You’re glowing,” he gasped. “Your eyes.” Silk bit his lip and threw his head back against the wall and let out a staccato moan as he burst in Vasily’s hand. His words reminded Vasily just in time that his ejaculation might burn Silk’s sensitive flesh, and he let out a low, animal growl in his throat and pulled back his heat as he joined Silk, the two of them shooting into the steam, sticky white streams mixing together in his fist as it slid down the sides of their shuddering cocks amid the lather.
Silk’s legs wobbled beneath him, and Vasily caught him, pulling him close as they finished, and then let the water carry the evidence away.
The shower was getting cold, and Silk was shivering. Vasily turned off the faucet and picked him up as easily as he might have picked up a child as he stepped out of the tub.
Silk’s arms slid around his neck, and he looked up at Vasily. “Damn. If you weren’t already holding me, I think I’d swoon.”
Vasily laughed nervously. “I have to put you down to get dressed.”
Silk shrugged. “Well, if you have to, you have to.” He was still a bit shaky as his feet hit the ground. Vasily wrapped him in a towel before drying off with another and pulling on his pants, and then swept him up again as he stepped into his tapochki, to Silk’s obvious delight.
“I’ll have to get you something clean to wear.”
“Can’t say I really mind being naked in your arms,” Silk said with a grin.
As Vasily carried him back down the hall, Lev came out of the kitchen, and Vasily nearly dropped his burden. Eyes wide, Lev backed into the room he’d just exited.
Silk glanced over Vasily’s shoulder. “That him?” he asked as they passed the kitchen doorway. “The one your prince was fucking around on you with?”
Vasily said nothing until they were inside the bedroom and he’d closed the door. He set Silk on his feet. “That’s him, yes. I’d rather not make a big deal out of it, though. We have to stay here for a few more days before Dmitri can set us up in another safe house.”
Silk sat on the bed, leaning back with his arms braced on the mattress behind him while he let the towel fall away. “Safe house?”
“With the demon underground. When demons fall, they help get them acclimated, keep them from getting noticed by the authorities—local and celestial.”
“Who are we hiding from?”
“Well…no one, I guess. Belphagor paid for you. But there are a lot of pitfalls here. We can’t just strike out on our own without easing into it with a little help. That’s what the underground is for. But it’s only until we’re settled and we can get our own place.” He took the envelope from his pocket. “I’ve got enough money to keep us for a bit, and there’s more where this came from.”
Silk was giving him a peculiar look. “Settled? I don’t intend to settle here.”
Water was dripping from Vasily’s locks onto the floor in the quiet that followed. “It’s not all like the people who hurt you,” he said quietly. “There are good people too. And things that will amaze you. But if you’d rather, we can go back. I can find something for us in Raqia where you’ll be safe.”
“Safe.” Silk’s expression seemed almost pitying. “Ruby. I know I look young, but I’m not a child. I don’t need to be kept safe.”
“I’m not saying you’re a child—”
“Just that you want to protect me. Which is so sweet. Really.” He held out his hand, and Vasily took it warily. “But as much fun as it is being carried in your arms, it’s not something I…need.” Vasily pulled his hand back and Silk frowned. “Now I’ve hurt you. I’m sorry.”
“What do you think you’re going to do in Raqia on your own?” He cringed internally, realizing he was echoing Belphagor’s words to him. “Work on the streets? I’ve done it, Silk. It isn’t for you.”
“I’ll find someone…suitable.” Silk hastened on when Vasily flinched at the word. “To exploit, Ruby. A mark. Don’t you see? That’s what I was doing at the Fletchery. I had a very comfortable arrangement with the establishment. I played a part and was paid well for it.”
Khai had told him there was more to Silk’s story than he understood, that Silk wasn’t a victim. But he couldn’t have been—something else. “You protected the boys.”
“Yes, and I coached them. It was mutually beneficial to prepare them for their roles so that the clients were happy and the boys could get as much pleasure from the experience as possible, instead of harm.”
“But they were boys. They were children.”
The look of pity was back in his eyes. “And they were going to be fletched no matter what I did—and no matter whether the Fletchery existed. The Fallen do not choose their own destinies. It’s been the way of Heaven since demons first came into existence. Better that they had someone to help make it as easy on them as possible and to teach them a skill they could use later.”
Vasily felt heat boiling beneath the surface of his skin. “You got them to trust you and then you sent them to the beds of pedophiles.”
Silk reacted with sudden anger, on his feet, though he was still unsteady. “Do you want to know what it was like for the boys when there wasn’t someone like me there? I can tell you, because I know it firsthand. We were sold by our masters—or our parents—and no one told us what was going to happen, though we guessed. Some of us tried to escape. The guards punished us. And then our turns came, and we were dragged into the private rooms where our patrons waited. No courtship, no choice in the matter. No comforts offered. And if we were unlucky enough to get someone like Kezef—no one to heed our cries. You may have noticed that Kezef wasn’t strictly interested in fletching. So long as he didn’t spoil the merchandise, he could use the same boy again and again until he tired of him.” Silk dropped back onto the bed, looking pale.
The fire had gone out of Vasily. “Silk—”
“I don’t want your pity or your judgment. Or your patronage.”
“My patronage?”
Silk glanced at the envelope in Vasily’s hand. “That’s what you’re offering. To keep me.”
Vasily gaped at him, horrified. “No! I wasn’t going to ask anything of you!”
Silk sighed and shook his head. “You already have, Ruby. You want me to play a part I can’t. Because I care about you. I can’t use you the way I’d use a mark.”
Vasily stared at the envelope for a long moment before placing it on the nightstand. “You should use this to get back home. I’ll show you where to go to buy your ticket back to the portal.”
“Don’t be angry with me.”
“I’m not angry. I’m confused. They sold you, Silk. The men you worked for—the minute the heat was on them, they drugged you and sold you like a thing to be used, as if you weren’t even a person.”
“Well, I didn’t say I’d go back to them, did I? And you’re a fine one to judge me. You worked the streets of Raqia when you were as young as you looked at the Fletchery, didn’t you? How is that different?”
Vasily’s cheeks burned. “Because I chose to. It was wha
t I was good at. And I didn’t have any other options.”
“Well, touché, you lovely fiery thing. And stop doing that with your eyes. It’s making me think of the shower.” Silk’s fluttering lashes made him smile despite himself, and Silk laughed, holding out his hand. “Come here. Let’s not fight. Sit with me.” When Vasily took the offered hand reluctantly, Silk encouraged him toward the bed. “It really was sweet of you to want to take care of me, Ruby. But I’ll land on my feet. Don’t worry about me.”
Belphagor wallowed. There was no other word for it. After running a bath with water from questionable pipes, he soaked in it until he’d pruned and the water was tepid.
Dmitri’s words circled in his head like the bathwater circling the drain. “Let him know that everything else is a game. Own who you are.” Could he do that? Was it that simple? Just explain to Vasily that he was the only one who mattered—that his desires for anyone else were mere entertainment? That wasn’t entirely true, of course. The angelic officer he’d trained several months ago had meant something to him. And in truth, Lev meant something to him too. It was a playful bond, but a bond nonetheless.
As he dried off, he noticed the phone on the nightstand. Maybe over the safe distance of wires, he could say the things that didn’t seem to come out right when he and Vasily were face-to-face. He wrapped the towel around his waist and phoned Dmitri’s place, lying back on the bed.
When Lev answered, he welcomed the brief reprieve. They chatted and flirted for a few minutes before he gathered his nerve. “So how’s Vasily taking this? Is he still sulking about last night?”
Lev was too quiet. “No. I wouldn’t say that.”
Belphagor sat up straight. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing’s going on. He’s just, you know…keeping occupied.”
“Lev.”