In This Iron Ground (Natural Magic)

by Marina Vivancos

  Everything else disappeared. There was the fullness of Hakan’s cock and then its slide inside him. Damien grunted with each hard thrust until he ran out of noise, his mouth a soundless moue as Hakan hit his prostate with a relentlessness that was all him.

  The pleasure trembled the earth below Damien’s feet. Down, down, down, where everything was hidden, it became undone. Hardpacked earth became loose and soft. He let himself go.

  The orgasm that hit him was a racking of the dirt. It shook him, wave after earthquake wave.

  His ass clenched with the force of it and he felt Hakan’s pace stutter, weaken, stop as he came too. He draped over Damien, his nose buried in the scent of him.

  They collapsed together on the bed. Damien couldn’t think. The words had been fucked right out of his head.

  He drifted, sated. He could feel Hakan around him. His fingers brushing his side. His moon eyes casting light on his skin.

  On a distant star, Damien wished this was all real.

  **********

  Damien’s nineteenth birthday was celebrated in college style. A sprawling group of Damien’s new friends and some of the shifters Hakan used to run with got together in what became a larger party than Damien would have ever expected. The shifters brought with them a high-percentage alcoholic drink that they dispensed carefully only to those in the know, battling the werewolf’s high metabolism with brute force.

  Hakan, it turned out, was a happy drunk. He became even more touchy-feely than normal, draping over Damien and nuzzling into his hair when he sensed the move wasn’t unwelcome. He even joined the crowd to dance with Damien, grinding close and mouth pressed against the soft skin under Damien’s ear.

  Damien didn’t think consciously about the past, but the distance from it was all around him. In the simplest terms, he just wasn’t alone anymore. The feeling was as comforting as it was terrifying.

  Even after all those years, he still hadn’t gotten used to having so much to lose. To wondering if he really had it at all.

  He was giddy but physically and emotionally exhausted as Damien made it to Hakan’s with the werewolf in question pressed against his back, kissing a line up and down Damien’s neck.

  “Oh my God,” Damien laughed, trying to shuffle towards the bedroom with a clinging werewolf in tow.

  “We’re not making it anywhere at this rate and—no! Do not pick me up!” Damien admonished as he felt Hakan’s arms tighten around him. He could practically feel Hakan’s pout.

  “Come on, let’s get you on a horizontal surface,” Damien said, smiling as Hakan nipped at him playfully.

  They fell into bed together, Damien laughing as he tried to untangle himself in order to get at least their shoes off.

  “No,” Hakan protested, refusing to let go. “I missed your scent in my bed.”

  “What are you even talking about? I’m literally here every other day.”

  “No, not now. Before.”

  “Okay, I see we’ve reached an unintelligible level of drunk. Let me just—”

  “Before. Before. When I left that first time and everything smelled wrong and I couldn’t sleep and oh man. I was so stupid. And I came back and you still wouldn’t read with me on the bed. Everything smelt wrong…so stupid. Mmm, see.” Hakan ran his lips across the side of Damien’s throat, scenting there, pressed chest-to-chest with him. “You smell so good. I’m so in love with you.”

  The world glitched. You smell so good, it said and then there was a burst of static. Damien blinked his eyes. His head felt strange and white and the static was fizzling away and it was leaving something equally incomprehensible behind.

  Damien pressed a hand against Hakan’s chest, putting some force into getting out of his arms this time.

  “Okay, buddy. Sure. Let’s get your lovey-dovey ass some water.” His voice sounded strange, like an echo.

  “Damien. I’m serious,” Hakan was saying.

  Damien managed to get off the bed, taking a step back. He looked at Hakan on the sheets. Every familiar line of him. The broad cut of his shoulders, the pronounced dip under his bottom lip, his dark, uncomprehending eyes. His dark hair was a halo around his head.

  It hurt to look at him.

  “Mmhmm. I’m gonna get some—”

  “Damien. I’m serious.” Hakan propped himself on an elbow.

  Damien took another step away. “If you were serious, you’d say that when you were sober. Let’s just—”

  “That wasn’t drunk. I’m drunk, but that was sober.”

  “That made sense,” Damien tried to tease. He wasn’t sure what his voice was doing. Or his head, or the air in his lungs.

  Hakan groaned, falling back onto the bed and rubbing his face with his hands. “How is it not obvious?” he mumbled into his palms before letting them drop. “Damien, come on. You know. You have to know. You’re…you’re pack, you’re—”

  “I’m not pack.” It was a flat, toneless statement.

  Hakan fell quiet abruptly. He stared at Damien. “Now you’re just being contrary. You can’t just say that, Damien, that’s—”

  “No, Hakan, you can’t just say that,” Damien said, the beginning of an acidic irritation climbing up his throat. “There’s a ritual to becoming pack and you know that. You can’t just decide I’m pack because it suits you in the moment. I’m not pack. You have no say on the matter, so.” Damien tried to breathe. “I’m going to get some water.”

  Damien concentrated on putting one foot after the other. On getting a glass, turning on the tap, filling it with water. He chugged some down, mouth suddenly pasty. He refilled the glass.

  Fuck birthdays.

  He returned to Hakan’s room, intent on leaving Hakan to sober up and realize what he was talking about.

  Damien set the glass down on the bedside table.

  “You can’t just say that.” Hakan’s voice was a phantom of itself. Its cold breath brushed against Damien’s skin, seeping into his head. “You can’t just…you can’t just say that. You’re—pack isn’t just about a ritual. It’s about. It’s more. It’s more.”

  “Hakan…” Damien started, but Hakan started shaking his head. His eyes were wide and almost scared, his breaths starting to accelerate and shorten. Damien sat on the bed, alarmed.

  “Hakan. Hey, okay, calm down, okay? It’s fine. Let’s just drink some water and you can go to sleep.”

  “All this time? All these years? And you didn’t know you were pack?”

  “Hakan—”

  “And you don’t know. And you don’t know. And you don’t believe me.”

  “Okay. Hey. Let’s just breathe, okay?”

  “How can you not know?”

  “Hakan, let’s just breathe. You’re starting to hyperventilate. Let’s just breathe. Here.” Damien climbed on the bed again, his heart racing with alarm. He wrapped himself around Hakan, who immediately clung back.

  “It’s okay,” Damien shushed. “It’s okay. Just breathe.”

  “No. No.”

  “Let’s not think about that tonight. It’s okay, Hakan,” Damien soothed, running his fingers through Hakan’s hair.

  Damien held Hakan until his mutterings turned to an exhausted, inebriated sleep. Damien watched him, the shadow of his form twitching beside him.

  When the sun rose, Damien untangled himself from Hakan slowly. He sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, trying to put himself back together again. He got up.

  In the gossamer silence of the early morning, he slipped away.

  **********

  Damien didn’t hear anything from Hakan for a whole day. He wasn’t surprised. Hakan was probably trying to figure out how to do damage control for his drunk ramblings. What he hadn’t expected was for Mia to call him.

  His stomach dropped as soon as he saw the name flashing on the screen.

  “Hello,” Damien croaked, clearing his voice and trying again. “Hi.”

  “Hi, Damien. How are you?”

  “Good, thanks. How are you?
”

  “Well…I’m actually arriving at Eketon today. I was wondering if we could meet up.”

  Damien’s head started playing a movie. That old, rattling projector was back. It was a familiar genre, this one, but not quite like this.

  “Sure.”

  “Should we meet at Hakan’s?”

  “Um…”

  “He won’t be there.”

  “Um, yeah. Sure. Sounds good.”

  “Okay. How about at eight? I’m afraid I’m arriving a little late.”

  “That’s, um, that’s fine.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you then.”

  “Okay.”

  The call cut off. The strings holding him up went with it.

  The rest of the day was a blank sheet of paper intermittently poked through to reveal the flashing scene that Damien was sure was about to take place.

  He focused on his breathing. On his heartbeat. He stepped away from his body. From the rotting inside.

  “Thanks,” he said as Mia passed him some tea.

  He was at Hakan’s. He wasn’t entirely sure how he’d gotten there. Mia opened her mouth to speak, but Damien interrupted her, setting the tea on the coffee table clumsily.

  “I know Hakan must have, you know, told you what he said but you don’t have to…I know that I’m not pack. I researched—just for curiosity’s sake—how a human joins a pack and I know there’s a ritual and stuff. So. You don’t have to worry. I—”

  “Damien.” Damien fell quiet immediately.

  Mia was looking at him with an expression he had never seen before. Like the sorrow of an old loss being reawakened, or…Damien couldn’t place it.

  Mia covered his hand in hers. He twitched in surprise but didn’t pull away.

  “I have done you a terrible wrong,” Mia said quietly. “It is only because I know your nature that I know you will forgive me, but I don’t deserve it. I have failed as a Kephalē, and as your…as your carer as well.”

  Damien shook his head, gobsmacked. “Mia—”

  “Let me, please.” Mia squeezed his hands gently. He fell silent. “Damien. You are, without a doubt, one of the strongest people I have ever met. I did not know, back when we first met, what I was sensing. But I do now. Your Ousía may not be receptive or conductive, but it is one of the brightest and most resilient I have ever met.

  “It has been a privilege to watch you grow and bloom. It has been a privilege to be even one small part of it. It has been a privilege to know you, Damien, and it would be a privilege to have you as an official member of my pack.”

  Damien started shaking his head again. He couldn’t listen to this. But he didn’t pull away.

  “I have been a fool. I thought that, as a human, you would understand the ties of family better than of pack. That showing you would be enough. That you wouldn’t need it to be ritualized as someone who has been born to this world would. In retrospect, it is one of the most foolish things I have ever assumed.”

  “No. Mia, I don’t, I don’t need—”

  “We all need it. Damien, we all need to be shown with certainty where we belong. We all need to see commitment and not just suggestion. It was not logic that lead me to my actions. It was fear.”

  Damien shook his head slowly. He’d never known her to be swayed by fear.

  “It’s a fear both my son and I are guilty of. Of putting you in a situation that would rob you of your autonomy. I feared…after your understandable reaction to our invitation to be fostered, after you expressed your feelings of being indebted to the pack, I…I made a foolish, foolish mistake, Damien. In trying to give you a choice, I chose for you. Not only that, I made the wrong choice.” Mia stared imploringly at Damien.

  He didn’t move a muscle, caught in that stare. The world was swimming around him.

  “Damien. I hope you can forgive me. All I can do now is rectify my wrong and say, Damien Henson. Under the blessing of the full moon, I wish to invite you to be part of the Salgado pack. To run with us. To grow with us. To give as you will receive. The earth welcomes you, Damien Henson, and so do we.”

  Damien tried to process the words. One by one by one they spread through loose soil. But it was too much. The earth was becoming waterlogged. It couldn’t take anymore.

  This wasn’t a simple reversal of facts. This was a challenge to a core belief Damien had felt like a stone in his gut for years.

  You are not worthy to be part of a family.

  You are not worthy to be part of the Salgado pack.

  You are not worthy.

  “I…I don’t…” Damien choked on the words. Mia’s thumb rubbed gently across the skin of his hand.

  “I understand, Damien. You don’t have to answer now. Know that the offer will stand forever. Forever. If you ever wish to join the pack, you will be welcomed.”

  Damien felt his eyes burn. The world was turning on its head.

  He’d been alone. Alone, alone, alone. He’d look at the stars and think to the universe, you are infinite. And I am alone.

  Mia pulled him towards her and he went gladly. He felt her arms around him. The arms of a mother. A Kephalē. Family. Pack.

  “My boy…I am so proud of you. I am so, so proud of you.”

  A sob ripped through him.

  He didn’t want to be alone anymore.

  **********

  Damien turned his head on the couch as he heard the front door of Hakan’s apartment open. Mia had left minutes before, stating that Hakan wasn’t keen on seeing her right then. Damien had frowned at the statement.

  “I believe he’s angry at me, although not as much as he is at himself,” she’d explained.

  “He shouldn’t be.”

  “Not at himself, no. I don’t begrudge his anger at me, however.” She’d given Damien a kiss on the forehead and a promise to call before slipping away.

  Hakan walked slowly into the living room. Damien watched him over the back of the couch. He felt he’d run clean out of emotions. There was an odd, fragile peace inside.

  “Hey,” Hakan said quietly.

  “Hey.” There was a moment of silence.

  “Can I…” Hakan indicated the couch. Damien nodded.

  Damien felt the couch dip as he watched Hakan. They looked at each other. Hakan reached out and Damien tensed. He felt hypersensitive, his skin rubbed raw by the events of the last few days. Hakan let his hand drop.

  “Do you…want to stay the night?” Hakan asked.

  Damien sighed, looking at his knees. It was hard to think enough to make a decision. His head was so cluttered that he couldn’t move around in it.

  Damien heard Hakan let out a slow, trembling breath. He looked up only to be shocked still at the sheen in Hakan’s eyes.

  “What…Hakan, what’s wrong?” Damien asked, turning his body towards him.

  Hakan made a choked noise, covering his face with his hands. “I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, Damien. I don’t know what to do, I’m so, I’m so—”

  “Hey. Hey, Hakan, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

  “No. No, it isn’t. I keep thinking. Every day? Every day you…you didn’t know. I assumed and you…went around and ran with us and gave mom…went on errands for her and…and me, spent time…spent…I. When I left home it was. I’d never felt…that way before I’d never, and you. All the time, that’s what you were…fuck. Fuck.” Hakan gripped his hair, pulling at it.

  Damien placed his hands over Hakan’s, stroking them until Hakan let go.

  “Hey, hey. Shh,” Damien soothed, and pulled Hakan close.

  Hakan fell forwards with ease, wrapping his arms around him. Damien could feel Hakan’s watery pants against his neck.

  “Let’s go to bed, yeah? I think we’ve both had enough of this day,” Damien said.

  Hakan squeezed him tightly. Damien held him back.

  **********

  Damien woke up slowly. He felt the warmth of the bed he was in. Of Hakan’s slowly breathing body close behind him. He could hear a
truck rumbling outside. A dog barking.

  He opened his eyes. They’d left the blinds open and the watercolour dawn dripped into the room. The soft, golden light was so delicate it seemed like it could be pierced right through to reveal another dimension. The world looked strange and fragile and new.

  Damien remembered the flower Cameron had shown him the first night he had stayed at the Salgados. He tried looking at the scene through a different lens. Tried to wipe it from the assumptions he had made all along.

  What had Cameron really tried to tell him that night?

  Maybe blame was a strong word, but Damien felt he had to take at least part of the responsibility for what had happened. For the fear that Mia described, and the behaviours it had fostered.

  Damien thought about pack. What it meant, in spirit if not in law. About how the Salgados had given him a home, had included him in every celebration and family tradition, had invited him to every run and ritual. How they had shown him in those little fragments of moments, with looks and tones and small words. How they had told him, with every method available to them, that they loved him. That he was part of what they were. That he was welcome.

  Damien had needed more. His fear had a voice fed by years, by carer after carer, by the McKenzies. It wasn’t logical, but it reigned powerfully across iron land.

  He thought about what Mandy would say. The encouraging little smile she would give him as he talked through something himself.

  Blame was a strong word. He couldn’t blame himself for his fear. He couldn’t blame himself for what had been done to him. His lens had been tainted. He couldn’t go to the past, but he could be active in the present.

  Enough was enough. It was time to soften the earth and let things grow, unimpeded by the fear that the crops might not come to fruition.

  He had to try.

  Damien felt Hakan stir behind him. He turned around to watch Hakan wake up. To see how the dawn crested on his face as well. On the small muscles that gained animation, the fluttering eyelashes, the little, childish movements of his mouth.