by Riley Rivers
Ryan stared at him, mouth working soundlessly.
“It’s a lot,” Chris said after another minute of Ryan unable to speak. “Sorry.”
“You know?” Ryan managed. “About… what I am?” And you’re not running for the hills?
Chris nodded. “Yeah. Aura’s are one of my specialties. At first I didn’t get why yours, uh, was the way it was, but after a while I figured it out.”
“When did you figure it out?”
Chris shifted on the couch. “Last night.”
Last night, Ryan thought miserably. When he’d enthralled some hapless stranger at the club.
Wait.
“You knew then,” Ryan said slowly. “And you asked me out anyway.”
Chris nodded again. “I wanted to help. I still want to help.”
Wanted to help.
Oh.
Chris hadn’t really been interested in him. He’d wanted to be a good person and help out a stranger. The realization stung more than Ryan thought it would. But it didn’t matter. He told himself it didn’t matter. He needed to focus on what Chris seemed to be offering. “Help... how?”
Chris shrugged. “However you let me.” He looked suddenly nervous. “I’m… I’m still fucking sorry I kissed you while you weren’t able to say yes or no but… it was the only way I could help.”
Ryan unconsciously brought a hand to his mouth. It had indeed helped. He still felt awful, but definitely slightly less awful. And Chris… “You’re not, um, affected by me?”
Chris shook his head. “I can’t be. I’m warded against most magical thrall and enchantments.”
It was all Ryan could do to not audibly gasp. Chris wasn’t affected by him.
Chris wasn’t affected by him but he was still offering…
However you let me.
Ryan swallowed, trying not to get his hopes up too much. “Why? Do you want to help?”
“I’m not about to let someone suffer if I can do something about it. So I want to put it out there that I’m a willing party here.”
“A willing party,” Ryan said, unable to mask his disbelief. “You’d have sex with a stranger just because?”
Chris’s lips quirked in gentle amusement. “Plenty of people do, you know.”
“But—but I’m–”
“Tell me no and I’ll stop,” Chris said in a rush. “Though I’d hope you’d still tell me why you’re not eating so I can at least fix that problem. But that’s still long-term. Short-term, right now, is that you’re hurting and I’m here.”
Ryan wasn’t sure why he was still arguing. Chris was handing himself over on a silver platter and god he’d—Ryan knew he’d be delicious. Anyone would be a decent meal for him now, but Chris was gorgeous and seemed to care. Maybe not about Ryan—not wanting Ryan, but Chris had seen a stupid incubus making a fool of himself and had decided to offer a meal. He hadn’t had to. He could have just left Ryan alone yesterday and not approached. Ryan hadn’t made him reach out.
Ryan crept just a little closer. “I really can’t enchant you?”
Chris shook his head and lifted up his shirt. Ryan shrank back, the reaction ingrained at this point, but Chris was only pointing to a section of ink underneath his ribcage; a black outline of a stylized hand with a green eye in the middle of the palm. “See? It’s a pretty powerful protection. Works against most magic. If I want something to affect me, I have to actively concentrate to drop the ward.”
“Drop it?” Ryan asked, interest and wanting to know more edging out the hunger for a moment. “How can you—it’s a tattoo.”
Chris grinned. “Yeah, but it’s as magic as I am. Look.” And then, as Ryan watched, the green eye shut.
Ryan stared at it. Kept staring as it opened again, the ink moving fluidly, as if it were animated. He turned shocked eyes to Chris’s face.
Chris’s grin gentled. “See? Nothing to worry about.” He opened his arms. “Come here?”
Ryan couldn’t help it anymore. Couldn’t keep his distance when something he desperately wanted, needed, was being offered up for him. And maybe there would be strings later, but if Chris wanted an exchange for this, Ryan didn’t care. It didn’t matter that Chris wasn’t really into him as a person, but as an incubus who just needed food. Chris was willing to consent to provide. Chris was making his own decision and Ryan needed–
His hands were reaching out before he could think, going to rest on Chris’s shoulders and then stroking down to his biceps. It was amazing just to have skin contact after so long avoiding it, and the shift of Chris’s muscles under his hands… he took a steadying breath and looked back up at Chris. As much as he wanted to surge forward, be held, be kissed and touched, this wasn’t about him, not really. He survived on the pleasure of others. This was about making Chris feel good, getting him hard and wanting and then bringing him to release. Ryan didn’t matter. Ryan didn’t want to matter. It felt less selfish that way. Less predatory.
He licked his lips, assessing, then scooted forward fully back into Chris’s lap. He was dizzy with possibilities, with something to finally sate his hunger within reach, and couldn’t help nuzzling a little against Chris’s throat. Felt gratified when Chris’s big, warm hands pressed against his back, flexing a little.
When he tentatively reached out with his aura, Ryan could pick up the stirrings of want. Chris did find him attractive or, at least, was responding to having a willing body pay him attention. Ryan wasn’t concerned. As long as Chris was reacting, was getting something out of this—that was the whole point.
He let his fingers move from Chris’s arms to his chest, trailing down until he reached the hem of Chris’s shirt. Ryan pushed it up, marveling at the patterns playing across Chris’s skin. He’d have liked to spend time admiring them all, ask Chris their meanings, their purposes.
But again, that’s not why Chris had brought him here. Chris hadn’t wanted Ryan, just wanted to do a good deed. Ryan had no business trying to get more personal. No business crossing lines that could slide dangerously into making this about more than just feeding.
Another wave of dizziness came over him and he fell forward against Chris’s chest, blinking spots out of his eyes. He was wasting time and worse, he was chancing Chris losing interest the longer he took.
He forced himself upright again, pulling away from the arms that had come to encircle him. He didn’t whimper at the loss. Instead he directed the need into something else. “Can I blow you?”
It sent a curl of pleasure through him to watch Chris swallow, eyes darkening. He’d done that. He’d made Chris feel some sort of desire. It was his nature to do so, but with Chris it felt like he’d done something right. “If you want,” Chris said, voice just a touch hoarser.
Yes. Yes, Ryan wanted. He wanted to please this Adonis of a man, who also apparently had a heart of gold. Distantly he had the thought that maybe he was losing himself to his desperation, mind sinking underneath the need to just be good, give Chris whatever he wanted.
He didn’t care.
He slid off the couch and to his knees, hands coming to rest on Chris’s powerful thighs as Chris spread his legs wide. He pressed his cheek to the bulge between Chris’s legs and rubbed against the denim. The growing hardness there spurred him to pop the button on Chris’s jeans with shaking hands. Chris’s arousal was getting more obvious, an energy in the air that made Ryan a different sort of dizzy.
When he pulled out Chris’s cock, it was half hard, getting thicker in his hand, and Ryan looked at it with single-minded determination. Make this good. Make it worth it to Chris.
He licked down the length of it, savoring the taste, the musky scent. Nosed at the crease of Chris’s thigh before moving back to mouth at his cock again, then sucked it down, paying attention to Chris’s quiet fuck, and the fingers sliding into his hair. Good.
He let his eyes close as Chris’s cock stretched his lips wide, using his tongue as he took it further in, getting everything spit-slick. The hand in his hair tightened
briefly as Chris’s cock bumped the back of Ryan’s throat, but they loosened again almost immediately, petting soothingly. It was nice, the feeling of gentle fingers in his hair, and it made things go softer for him, hazy around the edges. He worked his mouth over Chris’s cock, one hand still clutching Chris’s thigh as an anchor, but he put the other to good use, wrapping around Chris’s cock as he pulled off to breathe, taking the time to nose at Chris’s balls, elicit some more groans of pleasure and that was good, that was perfect. He was doing it right; Chris was into this now, more thoroughly than he had been when he was offering himself up as a favor. Now Ryan was making it more than just a chore.
He took Chris down deep again, and he could float like this, just keeping Chris’s cock warm in his mouth. It felt so good, it tasted so good, and the energy and strength seeping into him just added to that high. It’d been so long since he’d felt any of this, so long of fighting with himself, of recoiling from desire, both his and other people’s. But Chris’s desire was a balm, given freely, and all Ryan wanted to do was take. He felt his eyes grow wet at the overwhelming sensations. Arousal was coursing through him now, Chris’s—and his own. It was an effort to keep his hands away from his own cock, willing himself to ignore his own hardness. Instead he refocused on Chris, the feel and taste and scent of him. It wasn’t difficult to get lost in it all.
Even while he wanted to linger, wanted to live in this moment of hearing and feeling Chris twitch and drip precome down his throat, he was also spiraling ever higher, Chris’s arousal heavy in the air just as Chris’s cock was heavy on his tongue. Chris was getting close and Ryan wanted to push him over the edge, wanted so much. He concentrated, trying to feel out the source of want, eventually forcing his eyes back open to look up at Chris through his lashes.
Ryan knew he probably made quite the picture, a flush to his pale skin, lips stretched wide around Chris’s cock as he kneeled between his legs, spit dripping down his chin. The hand in his hair was shaking now, gripping tight but then releasing again as Chris let out more sounds.
“Ryan,” Chris said, sounding gutted, “Fuck, I’m close, I–”
Ryan would have smiled if his mouth weren’t full, but he did hum with satisfaction, eyes closing again as he took Chris as deep as he could then started to swallow, contracting his throat and making his intention clear.
The energy he’d been lapping up became a full-on rush of intensity as Chris came down his throat, Ryan’s hand spasming on Chris’s thigh as he breathed through it and swallowed it all down. It was intoxicating and heady, swirling within him and making him warm and full, bone weary but happy.
With a pang of regret, he pulled away from Chris’s softening cock before it could become oversensitive, and let his head hang down as he drew in deep gulps of air. He was shaking again, but this time it was from relief. God, he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d felt like this. Felt good. Not sick, or freezing, or fighting nausea.
There was a gentle touch underneath his right eye, thumbing away the wetness that had started to slide down his cheeks. When Ryan felt able to open his eyes again, he looked up to see Chris watching him carefully. There was still a ruddy flush to Chris’s cheeks, but his expression was focused, flickering with something too close to concern for comfort.
Still kneeling at Chris’s feet, Ryan felt very small and insignificant.
He hurriedly wiped his mouth and chin with his sleeve and struggled to find his tongue amid the near-overwhelming high of for once not feeling completely awful. “Thanks,” he managed after what felt like far too long.
“How are you feeling?” Chris asked, hand coming forward again to stroke Ryan’s cheek. It was altogether too tender for Ryan to deal with, wrung out and raw and still hard, all the while shocky from the sudden absence of pain.
“Fine!” Ryan swallowed. “I mean good. Real… real good. Thank you.”
“Feel like I should be thanking you,” Chris said, mouth crooking into a grin. His eyes flicked down and the grin grew warmer. “Let me help you with that.” And then he was moving forward, reaching out–
Ryan scuttled backward. “That’s okay. That’s—it’s fine, you don’t—I’m good. I–” It was one thing to get Chris off. Sure, Ryan fed, but at least Chris got something out of it. Chris didn’t have to bother reciprocating. And the thought of him doing so… Ryan was already taking something from Chris. He didn’t need to be greedy.
Chris’s grin dropped, but at least so did his hand. Instead he tucked himself back into his pants while Ryan tried to keep from whimpering. He still wanted more. He wanted to keep touching. He wanted Chris to touch him. He wanted Chris to open him up and fuck him, use him, let him actually be the creature of desire that he was.
But he hadn’t been lying to Chris. He did feel good. It was amazing, and it was enough.
He got to his feet, marveling at how his head failed to pound as he did so. “Thanks,” he said again. “Really. I really… I really appreciate it. I-I guess I’ll see you around? At Firefly. I mean, I guess until you stop working there.” He was babbling. He should stop talking. “Yeah, um. I’ll get going now.”
For some reason, he couldn’t stomach the thought of being dismissed. Of Chris kicking him out of the studio, now that Ryan had been fed. He couldn’t imagine Chris would be mean about it. Figured the exact opposite. If the pattern continued, Chris would be gracious and kind. Politely suggesting that maybe it was time for Ryan to get moving, now that he wasn’t collapsing all over the place.
So instead of waiting to be told to get out, no matter how nicely, Ryan made a hurried, if ungraceful, exit.
Chapter Five
Chris didn’t try to stop Ryan as he took off, in part because Ryan was, for the first time since Chris had seen him, moving as if he wasn’t one wrong step away from collapsing. At least he was feeling a little better. He’d been honest about that. Chris had been able to see Ryan’s aura regain a bit of color and solidity. That was the most important thing.
But fuck, having a cute guy give him a fantastic blowjob, recoil when he offered to return the favor, and then take off like a bat out of hell… Chris had figured Ryan had been making a choice out of desperation, but god. It was another thing to know.
He was almost mad at himself for enjoying it as much as he had, for letting himself get lost in the sensations. But then again, if he hadn’t, Ryan wouldn’t have even been able to feed at all. Fuck, this was a mess.
Not to mention that while a short-term issue had been solved, in that Ryan wasn’t currently starving anymore, it wouldn’t last. Ryan had been too hungry for too long. Feeding off one orgasm wouldn’t be enough to replenish him fully, and it also meant the positives effects would be wearing off sooner over later.
And they hadn’t even touched on the long-term issue of why he’d been starving in the first place. Chris definitely didn’t mind being a meal. Wouldn't mind being one on the regular, especially since Ryan would be needing it. But he quickly shoved that thought right down, furiously reminding himself that this wasn’t about him. So Ryan was his type. His face lit up in wonder and awe over Chris’s art and tattoos. He looked so bright when he smiled. Which got him thinking about Ryan’s mouth again…
Chris tried to put the image of Ryan’s pretty lips stretched around his cock out of his mind, tried to move past the silky feel of Ryan’s hair as he’d threaded it through his fingers. He was being a fucking creep, focusing on that when Ryan had clearly been desperate for anything at all.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the talisman he’d made. He hadn’t gotten a chance to give it to Ryan. Hadn’t gotten a real chance to talk to him either. Not about what was wrong. Ryan had been too sick for much talking. And then he’d left.
Ran away, Chris thought with a sigh. Call it like it is.
He fiddled with the talisman, thinking harder about what he knew of Ryan. What he’d revealed so far, through his affectations, body language, and what little conversation they’d had together.
How he kept shying away from touch, but also seemed to crave it… which made perfect sense. Ryan was clearly denying himself even the most basic of affection. He was probably touch starved. And that would only be exacerbated by his incubus nature. How he apologized for accidentally leaning into Chris, how horrified he’d seemed over the thought that he might have made the first move and gone in for a kiss—forget that he’d been fucking unconscious at the time...
More and more questions and no answers. And something told Chris that Ryan wasn’t about to change his ways now that he’d finally fed for the first time in who knows how long. Chris would bet his business that Ryan would sink right back into bad habits and refuse to feed.
But he had an ally in Chris, now. Maybe Ryan would be willing to reveal a little more, now that he knew Chris was on his side. He just needed to be careful. Not push too hard and accidentally scare him away. On top of doing his damned best not to come on too strong, or to make Ryan think Chris was after him for sex, if Ryan didn’t want it. Because fucking no.
First thing first. Reach out again.
***
Ryan’s heart had managed to stop pounding by the time he got home. Safe and solitary within the walls of his apartment, his mind finally was able to calm down from the single-minded focus of get some distance and return to the present.
He flopped down onto his couch, fingers tapping restlessly on his thigh. Usually he did his best to distract himself in whatever way he could because he felt so awful, but being that miserable often just meant dragging himself to his computer set-up to do work before crawling back into bed. He didn’t have the inclination or energy for much else, aside from going to clubs for his attempted feedings. Now he felt so good he was practically thrumming with energy. He wasn’t entirely sure what to do with it. He wanted to take advantage, that was for sure. He didn’t know how long it would last.
It made his stomach twist unpleasantly, thinking about that. About Chris, and how so incredibly good he’d felt. Tasted. What it had finally been like to get a truly willing meal… and one as handsome and obviously kind as Chris. It’d been delicious. More than that, feeling desired, even if it was on the most basic of levels… Ryan shivered and shifted on the couch.