An Ocean of Light

by Kit Fortier

  “Not just for me.” Eric’s eyes wandered from Ben to Jake to Fox and back to Ben. “Don’t want to lose any of you.”

  The room went quiet.

  Ben shuffled Eric into his arms, holding him close as he stood up from the loveseat. Fox stood up and quietly took Jake by the hand, leading him to their bedroom. Ben carried Eric into their own bedroom, closing the door behind him.

  Ben set Eric down and moved to pull his robe off when Eric stopped his hands. Before the big guy could speak, Eric shook his head and nudged Ben to sit on the edge of the bed. He pulled Ben’s tank top off, planting a kiss on his forehead. Eric gently pushed Ben to his back, undoing his man’s shorts and pulling them off. The little guy picked up Ben’s clothes and laid them out on a nearby armchair. He padded into the bathroom, retrieving a washcloth damp with warm water.

  Ben sat on the bed’s edge, propped up on his elbows, watching Eric move through the darkness of their room. Eric knelt down and wiped both of Ben’s feet, cleaning sand that clung to his skin. He tossed the washcloth next to the bathroom door and removed his robe, draping it over Ben’s clothes. He heard his man shuffling onto the mattress. When he turned, he saw Ben lying in the middle of the bed, his arms propped behind his head.

  Eric sighed. He started from the foot of the bed, dragging his body over Ben’s, from the big guy’s toes, to his knees, to his groin, to his chest—until Eric was lying on top of his man, skin to skin. He rested his ear against Ben’s chest, listening to his heartbeat.

  I just want to hold you, Ben.

  I’m not going anywhere.

  *** Fox

  There wasn’t much sleep to be had that night. As much as Fox tossed and turned, Jake simply sat with his back against the headboard, staring out into the night outside their window.

  Eric’s last words for the night rattled through Fox’s head. I don’t want to lose any of you sounded like such a sweet sentiment, but it was truly a loaded one. There was always the possibility of things going south in a bad way—but something like that had never occurred to Fox until recently. After the diner in Pavillion. After killing the woman who was once his own mother. After Ben’s graduation. After all the events that Jake had lived through that involved mages.

  It was a strange life he walked into, but it was one he couldn’t imagine any other way, as long as Jake was in the picture.

  Fox rolled over, facing Jake as he put his head in his husband’s lap. The feel of strong fingers combing through his hair made the younger man sigh.

  “There are times when I’d give anything to know what you’re thinking, baby,” Jake whispered.

  Fox kissed his husband’s bare thigh. “Not much going on up here, papa bear.”

  “Fibber.”

  Fox snickered. “Right now, I’m thinking I just want to enjoy a night holding onto my big ol’ bear of a husband, that’s all.”

  Jake’s fingers drifted from Fox’s hair to his face, tracing his lips.

  “When this trouble we’re looking at passes, I’m sure we’ll have that.”

  “It’s okay if we don’t, big guy. I’m just happy being here with you, you know that, right?”

  A deep sigh came from above Fox. His husband’s breath drifted over his face.

  “You guys are always letting me off easy.”

  Fox rolled onto his back, gaining a better view of Jake’s face as he lay there. His husband’s fingertips lightly traced his brow, his nose, his chin.

  “I’ve never been the angsty type, Jake. At least, I don’t think of myself like that.”

  “And I wouldn’t want you to be.”

  “But you think you have to punish yourself for these things that happened to you?”

  “If it weren’t for me fucking things up, Ben might have a normal life. You could, too.”

  “If it wasn’t for you, Ben wouldn’t have such amazing, caring people to love and raise him. He might have fallen victim to mages exploiting your weaknesses. He wouldn’t have such loving, supportive people in his life, you included.”

  “But—”

  “But nothing. And then you want to talk about my life? I’d still be stuck behind the desk at the family motel, getting random visits from the waitress at the diner down the street.”

  “Cindi. With an I.”

  Fox smiled. “Well remembered.”

  A serene grin graced Jake’s face. “You really don’t blame me for any of this?”

  “The only thing I’m blaming you for, right now, Jake Foster-Hughes, is not lying down with me and being my pillow. Because I can tell you, baby—my body, my brain is just not having it.”

  Jake laughed. He rubbed the pads of his rough hands over Fox’s chest, making the younger guy shiver. The bigger man slid down into the bed, throwing the covers off, and Fox draped himself over him as he loved to do.

  “Better.”

  “I will say, I wish we were moving in under less stressful circumstances.”

  “How will we work this?”

  “I’ll head over and finalize the details. When it's all over, I’ll call you guys on my tablet.”

  “I think it’d be safer if we all went together. That witch—whoever she is, she’s got to know Eric’s not alone.”

  “I suppose.”

  “We really ought to get you a phone, papa bear.”

  “I know. We’ll work on that soon.”

  The silence in the room was only interrupted by the sounds of the men breathing.

  “I just realized something,” Jake murmured.

  “What’s that?”

  “One good thing about the house? We bought it furnished.”

  Fox chuckled softly, rubbing his face into his man’s pelt. “Get some sleep, papa bear."

  11. Cover of Night

  *** Ben

  With the training fresh in his mind, Ben waited until Eric had settled in. When the little guy’s breathing evened out and sleep had finally come for him, Ben gingerly freed himself from his man’s grasp to retrieve the primer from his gear.

  If there was anything else that he should know, considering what was to come, Ben had to dig deep and find out if he could learn it.

  Ben slipped back into bed—not too close as not to jostle Eric, but far enough that he could read without disturbing his lover. He wouldn’t risk Eric waking in his physical absence. With his phone plugged in, Ben used its flashlight to read, cautious to keep it from shining on anything else other than the pages of the journal in his lap.

  He skipped past the information about the Gates—given how much he had to translate, it seemed a better use of his time to read through what was more readily available. He skipped ahead to the image of a triangle that looked wedged in the ground. It was clear the symbol represented Earth, judging from the symbols of Fire and Water that Ben had gone through in the past.

  As with Water, Ben read through the means that an alchemist might manipulate the movement and composition of soil, sand, stone, among other things. A scribble followed by a phrase in German drew his attention—as it seemed the journal keeper hadn’t thought to translate it.

  Die Kraft, die uns antreibt, belebt uns

  The language was colloquial enough for Ben to translate. The force that drives us enlivens us.

  What was that supposed to mean?

  Ben flipped back and forth between the elements. Common features, such as markers, or repeated phrases, started sticking out where Ben had glossed over them before. The scribble that Ben saw became something more and more recognizable when he finally realized it was Arabic: جوهر.

  Using his translator app, Ben learned the word was “Jawhar”. The translation: Quintessence.

  He pawed at that word in his head for a little bit, looking up the definition and how it related to alchemy. Were he to define it for himself, Ben imagined that Quintessence was the space that connected the elements. Its role was something like a unifying aspect. According to the journal, it was the fifth element, represented by a small circle, inside a square
, inside an equilateral triangle, inside a large circle.

  Ben mulled over the information. The word in Arabic was scrawled at key points, largely focusing on the transfer of energy. Die kinetische Energie des Steins. L'énergie cinétique de la mer. Hanc in motu navitas in ventum. Il potere del fuoco. Everything pointed to energy shifting from the elements into the alchemist.

  The realization felt like a weight being lifted from around Ben’s neck. It’s the force that drives us—the element we’re drawn to… It enlivens us, meaning it can recharge us!

  Ben read deeper into aspects of water compared to those of the other listed basic elements. He skimmed over the applications of Salt, Sulphur, Mercury, Silver—even Gold. The primer skated around an issue of alchemists with a focus on water, specifically on their need to recharge. Their power to transmute was nearly limitless provided they were within a few days’ travel to a shore, be it a lake or an ocean. He read up on Earth, given it was the element his father was close to. He learned that Dad had to shift massive amounts of ground in order to generate the kinetic energy necessary to recharge him—perhaps two or three times in a month.

  That made sense, but what was missing was the explanation as to how he and his dads ended up this way. It was a question he needed more of an explanation on. Not that he wanted his father to explain himself—no. He needn’t have to do that. Ben understood the sacrifice. He may require therapy, but one battle he could win inside was knowing that he was never, ever far from his dad’s thoughts.

  Ben quietly closed up the book and bound it up. When he powered down the flashlight on his phone, he put both on a nightstand nearby. It was still night out. Maybe he could get some sleep.

  ***

  Sunlight filtered through the hotel window. Its warming rays skittered over Eric’s pale skin. Ben lightly combed through his man’s hair with his fingers. The little guy sighed.

  “Morning already?” Eric asked.

  “You got it.”

  “We’re supposed to move in first, right?”

  “Right.”

  Ben took delight in the feel of Eric’s fingers grazing gently over his chest. A light, involuntary shudder rippled through him as one of those fingers slid over a nipple. Ben chuckled softly as Eric made rumbly purring noises.

  “Comfy?”

  “Always. You’re so warm and fuzzy.”

  Ben laughed. “Careful now—I think I’ve heard Fox call my Dad the same thing.”

  Eric lifted his head. A sleepy grin was plastered to his face.

  “Fine. You’re hot, and scruffy.”

  “I like that. It’s a little better than warm and fuzzy. More butch.”

  A peal of laughter squirmed out of Eric’s mouth. “Really? You three couldn’t be more butch if you tried!”

  Ben grinned. The two stared at each other for a few moments, soaking in the quiet around them. Then Eric shuffled off the foot of the bed. He stretched and scratched his chest, all the while giving Ben a bit of a show with his semi-erect dick hanging out. The big guy groaned.

  “Baby, you’re making me hard first thing in the morning.”

  “What? You mean this thing?” Eric swung his length about playfully. Ben growled and crawled toward the foot of the bed, taking Eric by the waist.

  “Yeah,” Ben began, “But the rest of you’s doing it for me, too.” Ben slid his hands up Eric’s back, pulling him closer. He sealed a mouth over one of the pink nubs that was a nipple, teething and licking it to life as Eric moaned.

  “You want this? Right now?” He whispered. Ben looked up, his mouth still latched on and working over the taut little piece of flesh. Whatever Eric saw made him roll his head back as Ben let go of one nipple and began working on the other. Something poked him in the chest, straining for attention.

  Eric looked back down, glassy-eyed with pleasure. He peeled Ben off his sensitive flesh and took his mouth, demanding entrance as he licked at the seam of Ben’s lips. A skirmish of tongues ensued, and Ben gave way to Eric’s demanding overtures. Soon, the little man had him breathless, gasping for air as Eric attacked the pulse point on his neck.

  “What do you want, B?” Eric whispered. He returned to his ministrations on Ben’s neck, leaving the man cross-eyed with desire.

  “Take me, Eric. Please.”

  Eric pulled away, his lips swollen from their exchange of kisses. His eyes seemed to glow in the rising light of day. “Middle of the bed,” he commanded. A zing of lust jolted from Ben’s brain to his groin as he hastened to obey.

  Eric followed him. “On your front,” he growled. “Face down, ass in the air.”

  Ben pulled his knees forward as he was told. Eric’s command put Ben’s ass in the air, exposed for Eric’s pleasure. He turned his face to the side to try and see what Eric was doing when the man behind him said, “Close your eyes. Feel me, baby.”

  Ben let his arms lax to his sides on the outsides of his knees. He closed his eyes as Eric took his hips and moved him into position. Eric’s lips caressed the meaty parts of his ass with moistened lips and the gentle scrape of teeth. The sudden shock of a wet, firm lick across the minute folds that tightly surrounded his entrance set off a chain of tiny fireworks from his ass to his brain. Ben groaned into the mattress as Eric lapped and worshipped the flesh that stood between him and Ben’s innermost pleasure.

  Eric’s slim finger wriggled in and pressed deeper into Ben’s warm and wanting channel. With a gentle tug of Ben’s cock through his legs, Eric’s mouth wrapped around the crown of his dick. The wet heat that enveloped Ben’s length coupled with the pleasure-probing in his ass had him panting, his head spinning, gripping at the bedsheets as if he’d tear them apart. After what seemed like an eternity of an upward glide in a haze of lust, Ben moaned at the loss when Eric pulled off and out of him.

  Then came the part that Ben had come to love. There was a snicking sound of the bottle of lube, followed by a wet, squelching sound, followed by a snapping sound. The blunt tip of Eric’s lube-slicked dick kissed against his ass, pressing against his back door. Ben exhaled a shuddering breath as Eric began the long slide in. He squeezed his eyes as his man pressed forward until the heat of Eric’s groin pushed against him, his length pressing over his gland on the first slide. Ben gave a shuddering groan as he focused on the point where he and Eric were one.

  “Take me hard, E. I want to feel you,” Ben whispered reverently. Eric’s hand slid against his lower back, gliding up his spine and back down again. Ben’s lover planted a kiss pressed against the base of his shoulder blade.

  “I don’t want to hurt you, Ben,” Eric whispered back.

  “You won’t. I want it. Want you.”

  Ben heard Eric take a deep breath. His man withdrew, almost completely. Suddenly, air rushed from his lungs as Eric rammed in, making Ben moan. The mix of pleasure and pain tore at the seams of his brain.

  “Yes,” Ben hissed.

  Eric repeated his thrusts as Ben moaned a series of expletives and endearments. The brush of Eric’s length against his pleasure spot deep within set off shockwaves. Bright bursts of light flared against the back of Ben’s closed eyelids. The sounds of Eric slapping against him were rhythmic, hard. There were tears in Ben’s eyes—but not of sorrow. Just the overwhelming sensation of connection. Of love. Ben groaned his man’s name as Eric continued to ride him to the edge of his sanity, one hard thrust at a time.

  “Get on your back, B.”

  Ben lay on his back. Eric lifted his man’s legs; which Ben took over with his own grip. He heard the snap of a cap, and shortly after, Eric’s hand slipped around Ben’s hard length. He slathered it in cool lubricant and stroked it as he drove into Ben.

  The added sensations of Eric’s hands and his dick drilling into him made Ben cry out insensible things.

  “Look at me, Ben.”

  Ben opened his eyes and locked onto Eric’s eyes. There was something almost feral there—tinged with lust, blended with desire. Eric continued to work Ben over. His thrusts became e
rratic, his breathing shallow. Ben saw the flush on Eric’s neck, in his face, all the while feeling his own skin light up with heat. Ben held on with everything he could—trying to stave off the pending, inevitable moment.

  “Let go, B. I have you,” Eric whispered. It was what Ben needed. With Eric’s permission, Ben’s release exploded in Eric’s hands. The precious fluid struck both of them in the chest, their midsections, Ben’s neck. In his high, Ben writhed and relished in the sensations as Eric’s climax filled him. When Eric had finished, Ben reached up and pulled him down, unleashing kiss after kiss. He prolonged the high as long as he could until they were both winded. Eric slid down Ben’s body until his head came to rest over the big guy’s heart.

  It’s what he wanted. Anything to keep Eric from thinking about what was to come. Anything to remember the feel of Eric on him, in him. Eric ran his hands through his soft mat, breathing him in.

  Thank you, B.

  For what?

  Helping me forget, for a little while.

  “Oh, baby,” Ben sighed.

  “Don’t even say you weren’t trying to do that.”

  Ben fell quiet and pulled Eric tighter against him, kissing the top of his head. No use lying to him.

  You’re welcome.

  *** Jake

  Jake sat in the dining room of the suite, Fox across the way from him. Both had a cup of coffee in front of them. Both were grimacing a little at the sounds coming from Ben and Eric’s bedroom. Jake more than Fox.

  Fox winked at Jake. “I guess he takes after his old man,” he said under his breath.

  Jake huffed. “Shouldn’t you be doing something? Making breakfast or whatever?”

  “Just because you can’t cook doesn’t mean you can’t learn,” Fox chuckled.

  “Ugh. Let’s just sit here and wait it out.”

  “Agreed,” Fox said, his voice low. “It’s better than talking about what’s heading down the road.”

  Jake frowned—his mouth set in a grim line. “Do you have the pack ready for him?”

  “Yeah. I packed a bunch of sandwich bags with salt. They probably won’t have any help from altered beasts, but I went ahead and packed a few bags with powdered silver, just in case. There are a few tucked away in the side pouches.”