by R Phoenix
It seemed to take an eternity before there was finally movement in that lush body. It wasn’t to fight him, or to flee — a surprise third option, in which he actually obeyed presented itself. He watched as Kolt sank down to his knees for the second time. His hands remained by his side though, rebelliously toeing the line.
“Are you going to hurt me?” the young man asked him point blank, meeting his gaze dead on.
“If you don’t put your hands behind your back and clasp them there in the next five seconds, yes,” Leandro said calmly.
More tension in that beautiful body, as if he was already bracing for violence, but he didn’t move his fucking hands.
“Did I do something wrong?” Kolt asked, his voice cool, but his demeanor edgy and miserable. “I thought you liked what I did.”
Leandro’s eyes narrowed, and he stalked behind Kolt, already reaching down to grab his fucking wrists and pull him into position. “You’re still not telling me the truth,” he hissed. “I can bring you so much pleasure…”
But the flip side of that was true too. Just as he could bring pleasure, he could — and would — bring pain.
“Why are you here, Kol’tso? Why did you seek me out? Why did you offer your beautiful body to me?”
Kolt’s hands were tightly balled into fists, and as languid as his body had been during sex, it was rigid and hard now, making it hard to wring his hands behind his back. He wasn’t precisely struggling, but he wasn’t cooperating either — just as he wasn’t precisely a virgin, but he wasn’t an expert either. He wasn’t unappealing, but not exactly flawless either. He wasn’t otherkin, but he wasn’t really human either.
The in-between-ness maddeningly reminded him of the fae, but there was no way this little waif was fae. Otherkin, maybe even one who had crossed the realms once, which meant someone of the fae could well be playing him, manipulating him with their tricks and their pawns.
“I had nowhere else to go, and your name got dropped, it’s— That’s it!” Kolt snapped, sounding vicious.
There it was — the temper behind the seduction, what lay hidden beneath that tempting exterior. Leandro had known there was something there, though he hadn’t known quite what he’d find when he disturbed the surface.
“That’s hardly it,” Leandro said, fingertips digging harshly into Kolt’s wrists. “You had nowhere to go, so you came to me, hmm? And what did you expect to get from me?” He leaned in, nipping harshly at Kolt’s neck. “Besides mind-blowing sex, of course.”
The young man tried to shake him off, wrenching his wrists in Leandro’s hands as if his grip didn’t hurt at all. “A place to fucking sleep that wasn’t the bus station.” Kolt growled, though under the indignant anger there was a layer of something desperately and beautifully fragile — that and a truthful answer. “Just let me go and I’ll be out of your hair,” the pretty young man promised, tugging hard on his wrists again.
“Oh, no,” Leandro said, his voice softening. He didn’t loosen his grip on Kolt’s wrists. He simply held the struggling man in place, refusing to let him get up, refusing to let him be free. “You aren’t going anywhere, Kol’tso. We’re still playing a game, remember? And now you have incentive to win, don’t you?”
“Maybe I don’t want to play your fucking game anymore,” Kolt said sullenly, and not altogether convincing with the struggle fading from his body.
“Not my game,” Leandro pointed out. “Yours. You were the one who wanted to play.” He nuzzled the back of Kolt’s neck then flicked his tongue against the skin. He had his answers now, and he could go back to playing. “If I keep you in my bed, you win either way. Remember?”
“Not like this,” Kolt said shortly, tugging at his wrists, though lacking the conviction of his earlier attempts at getting free.
“If I let you go, will you let me play with that sweet cock of yours?” Leandro asked, feeling more than generous now that his good mood was restored. “You aren’t the only one with a clever tongue.”
If Kolt had nowhere else to go, that meant Leandro could keep him — and keeping him meant sweet-talking, sweet-acting. He’d play the part for a little while to keep the young man beside him — insatiable, and in his bed, all for him.
“Can I leave?” the young man asked, his voice not as angry then, but odd in another way, that Leandro couldn’t put his finger on. More of that in-between-ness.
“Do you want to leave?” Leandro countered, massaging Kolt’s wrists where he still held them tightly.
Of course he didn’t. Why would he want to leave when he’d been exposed to what Leandro could offer? His body, his liquor, his generosity and wealth? If the lost little waif had nowhere else to go, he’d be drawn to that wealth above all else.
That, and everyone was drawn to the fae whether they wanted to be or not. It was part of their charm.
Kolt shivered and dropped his head forward. For a moment Leandro thought he might cry, but instead of sniffling and tears, there was a chuckle followed by a deep sigh.
“If I can’t leave, then yeah, I want to fucking leave…” Kolt said, wriggling again to get out from under his touch.
“I’ll allow you to leave, if that’s what you want,” Leandro murmured, finally letting go of him. “But just think. You came to me because you knew I could give you what you want, what you need. Now you know I can.”
He rose, offering a hand out to Kolt to help him do the same.
“The question is… how badly do you want it?”
Kolt rubbed at his wrists while looking up at Leandro through dark eye lashes. There was something about those eyes that sent a chill down his spine, but he would never admit to that. People didn’t have that effect on him. He had that effect on other people, but as a fae, he was impervious to what any mortal morsel might have to offer.
It took a moment longer, or several, rather, then Kolt stubbornly got to his feet without Leandro’s help. Part of him wanted to put the young man back on his knees, to teach him the value of accepting help. Before he could act on his desire, that lithe, naked body of Kolt’s was pressing against him. The man’s arms wound around his neck, and a kiss was pressed against his lips. A little demanding, somewhat angry, pushing against him.
Leandro groaned and wrapped his arms around the younger man’s waist, pulling him tight against him — he wanted to keep the boy, and he’d do whatever it took to make it happen.
7
He’d ended up with five, and Leandro with seven.
The latter had then continued, bringing the total up to six for him and finishing strong at eight, in what he could only describe as the world’s best encore performance.
More importantly, no one had died — which was strange in and on itself. He hadn’t really expected Leandro to last as well as he had. He hadn’t expected him to be able to come eight times in a night, or even three times, for that matter.
The man wasn’t like anyone else he’d ever fed from. He didn’t grow tired off of it, and he didn’t lose his shit the way the others had. It had been… pleasant, overall. There were some low parts and some high notes.
The fact that he got to sleep in the luxurious and enormous bed was definitely a high note, and he stretched out fully — naked and graceful in the pile of sheets. Even stretched out to his limits and far away from his bed partner, he still couldn’t reach the edges of the bed.
To be fair, he’d likely gotten shorter again. It seemed to be a thing whenever he was with dominant men, that he got shorter. He dropped an arm over his face, not wanting to see how early — or late — in the day it was. He needed to think about what he was going to do, and if he was actually going to try and ask for Leandro’s help in getting the fuck out of town.
All he needed was a bus ticket, but he was having second thoughts, considering the bitching he’d gotten last night about how everyone wanted something from the man. But Leandro’s mood had bounced back quickly enough, and everything had been more than fine after.
In the light of mornin
g, he had to admit that it had been a good call to stay. He felt pretty fucking good after all the sustenance he’d gotten. He hadn’t stopped feeding once he’d started. There had only been short interruptions, and it had been impossible to stop somewhere between orgasm four and six.
And still Leandro hadn’t died… or even slowed down.
Though, while he had been awake for a while already, his bedmate had been out like a fucking light, unresponsive save for a cranky groan here or there. Maybe the effects of his feeding were finally catching up with Leandro.
He considered getting up and leaving the man to sleep it off. Partially because he wasn’t sure how he ought to handle asking a favor, not after denying everything so vehemently the night before. And partially because he preferred to just be gone by the time his fucks awakened. They were always a little too fond of him after an orgasm. Fuck knew how much Leandro would like him after eight.
Before he could decide whether to stay or go, he heard the man in question rouse from sleep. He peeked out from under his arm to see Leandro roll over onto his side, facing him before slowly cracking open his eyelids. His eyes were a little bleary, not quite focused and not as bright as they had been the night before.
“Good morning,” Leandro purred, voice still as silken as it had been despite having just woken up. “Come here,” he demanded with a possessive edge to his voice.
Hadn’t that creep at the bar said Leandro could help if he only knew how to wrangle him…? It wouldn’t be hard to wrangle someone who was clearly still under the effects of the fuck, overly fond and more than a little needy.
The fact that he was considering letting a creep at the bar decide his future made him sigh. He removed his arm from over his face, looking over at Leandro and rolling onto his side to look at him properly.
“Sleep well…?" he asked with a small smirk. Considering the guy had been asleep forever, it was kind of a given.
“Hmm…” Leandro hummed while reaching for him. When their eyes met again, though, he stalled in the motion. For a moment, the other man’s hand hung in the air between them. Leandro snatched up his chin in a lightning-fast motion and turned his head up and into the light of day pouring in through the windows. “What happened to your eyes?” Leandro demanded, gripping his chin with bruising force.
“What?" he asked, a pro at playing dumb, as he pulled away from the touch.
“They were green. Now they’re hazel,” Leandro said sharply.
“They’ve always been hazel… Sometimes they look more green though,” he answered steadily, glad they were colors that were so close together. It was a lot harder to sell brown eyes to blue than green eyes to hazel.
“No,” Leandro snapped, grabbing a hold of his face this time. “They were green with gold flecks. Now there is no—” He paused, staring hard into his eyes, then Leandro’s gaze flicked down his form. “The flecks are still there, but they were green… and you were… taller.” He continued to notice everything about him that was no longer as it had been.
“How much did you have to drink last night?” he countered, smiling slyly at him.
Leandro scowled at him. “I can hold my liquor perfectly well, thank you,” he said. “It would’ve taken a great deal more than I’d had to inhibit my memory. Your eyes were green, you were taller, and your hair…” He frowned.
Kolt’s heart began to beat wilder with panic. No one had ever noticed the changes before, because they were subtle. They were always subtle, weren’t they? They changed over time, not all at once.
Then again, he hadn’t had a sex marathon that had resulted in fourteen total orgasms before either. He’d fed heavily from Leandro, and he’d fed for hours. That obviously had something to do with the way the changes were appearing.
Fuck! There was no way he could stay now. As little as he wanted to sleep on a park bench, he couldn’t run the risk of getting caught over his physical changes by some overly perceptive asshole.
“What are you?” Leandro asked, firmly grabbing his arm and pulling him in close again. He stared into Kolt’s eyes, searching them. “I’ll tell you mine, if you tell me yours…”
“What the fuck do you mean?” he counter questioned, frowning.
“Well, you’re obviously otherkin, but you aren’t a shapeshifter. Those are… bloodier. A djinn would’ve had a better fucking illusion than my own bedroom, and while you’ve the siren call down, you’re no siren…” He listed off, like any of that was supposed to make any fucking sense.
He was certain Leandro was able to hear the fucking pounding of his heart though. If there really was such a thing as superhuman or… non-humans, or whatever, was he one of them?
“You can’t be fae. I know all the fae that have come across the realms.”
Leandro’s words began to fade into a blur, and his heart beat violently in his chest at the implications. It sounded fucking insane, the idea that he might be anything other than human. But it also sounded insane that he could kill people by giving them too vigorous of a blow job and—
He stared at Leandro, realizing suddenly what was different about him.
Everything was different about him. How good he looked, all the boundless energy he’d exuded, the ridiculous amount he’d fed from the man, the fact that he wasn’t dead. It was all because Leandro wasn’t really human.
“So what are you?” the man asked, with a wan smile as he reached out to touch Kolt’s face.
Kolt ducked away, moving quickly as he leapt off of the bed and snatching up the first shirt he could get his hands on — the button down from Leandro that was missing a button — and slipping it over his shoulders. Next he scooped up the sweatpants he’d arrived in, which would now be even longer and baggier, confirming Leandro’s suspicions no doubt.
“Stay, Kol’tso,” Leandro hissed shortly, but Kol’tso fucking knew better than to hang around with strange men — or whatever Leandro was.
“I gotta go,” he muttered, grabbing a pair of shoes — also Leandro’s — and making a break for the stairwell.
“Kol’tso!” Leandro called after him, more urgently.
He wasn’t about to slow down for the man. No matter how much he might’ve taken from him, or how poorly Leandro might be feeling because of it… and if the rate at which he was getting out of bed was any indication, it was pretty poor.
The door to the stairwell slammed shut behind him, and he sprinted down the stairs, taking them four steps at a time to maintain his head start.
“Kol’tso!” A third shout from the top of the stairs, but it was too late, as the second door leading out of the stairwell also shut behind him.
8
If he didn’t know any better, Leandro truly would’ve thought he’d had too much to drink the night before. He had a dull headache, which was a human annoyance he’d rarely had to contend with before, and it made the sounds of the casino obnoxious and irritating.
“Are you… feeling well?” Maurice asked cautiously.
Leandro partially opened his eyes for a moment, letting his gaze fall on the shapeshifter… then linger there. “Are shapeshifters particularly secretive about what you are?”
Maurice blinked at him. “What?”
“If I knew you were otherkin, but I didn’t know you were a shapeshifter, would you feign ignorance?" he asked impatiently. He didn’t feel like taking the time to slow down his thoughts long enough to explain what was going through his mind.
“Not with otherkin,” Maurice said slowly. He clearly wasn’t following, but when Leandro gestured for him to go on, he elaborated, “Shapeshifters aren’t particularly popular for a number of reasons, so I wouldn’t tell you I was a shapechanger, necessarily.”
Leandro hummed, considering as he closed his eyes again. “Do you ever change small things about yourself? Eye color, perhaps? Height?”
He could hear the discomfort in Maurice’s voice when the shapeshifter replied, “You know I don’t want to talk about our ways, Leandro.”
�
�Yes, well. I want you to. So out with it,” Leandro ordered. “It’s not as though I’m going to go spilling your secrets to the world.”
The fae, after all, were especially talented with hoarding information. They doled it out, too, when the price was right, but that didn’t seem like something he ought to mention.
“Not really,” Maurice finally said. “We have to change into someone we’ve seen, so it’s hard to manipulate just one feature.”
“Huh.” Leandro took in a deep breath of smoke-filled air. “Tell me who can.”
“I don’t know?” Maurice more asked than said. “Who?”
“A very strange being I fucked within an inch of his life last night,” Leandro drawled, opening his eyes again to see Maurice’s reaction to the crass words. The startled expression didn’t disappoint, but he couldn’t enjoy it as much as he normally might’ve. Not with that … creature out there, instead of in his grasp.
A creature who had not just been able to walk after their marathon sex, but had been able to bolt, while Leandro had barely managed to get up without falling the fuck over.
There was no way Kol’tso had been human, though what he could be, Leandro still didn’t know. A skinwalker, perhaps, but those were trained and taught from a young age to become spies, murderers, marauders… He wouldn’t have left empty handed.
“I haven’t seen him before.” He paused. “Of course, I wouldn’t have, if his features change like that.”
“So you were with an unknown otherkin who denied they were otherkin at all,” Maurice summarized. “Do you think said otherkin can also kill without leaving a trace?”
The shapeshifter was quick at thinking on his feet, as always.
The idea that he might’ve come face to face with the normie-murderer was oddly titillating. It was… fascinating.