He laughed again and nipped the edge of my neck. And thank god, didn’t tease me by drawing it out though looking back on it now I can’t remember much about it, and you’d think I would given how many times I imagined him doing it… but the only thing I could feel was the contrast of it; the sudden cold on my skin as he exposed it, and the heat of his palms, gliding over my sides….
”I’ve been waiting a long time for you to make free with my body,” I said when his hands were on my hips.
He smiled against my navel. “And how long is long?”
“Eleven years,” I said, without even thinking about it, without censoring myself, just… the number was right there and it came out of my mouth.
He looked up at me sharply.
“Eleven years,” I said, defending it now. “Ten years and two seasons since you became Shame, and two seasons previously, when I met you sparring in Eredaeth’s halls, beneath Vekken’s tutelage.”
“You’re saying,” he said, “…that you’ve wanted me since you saw me for the first time.”
“Yes,” I said. And I had. I’d been a felt-furred boy then, nine years his junior, and it didn’t matter, not a whit.
“Ajan,” he said, his thumbs slowly chafing my hipbones.
“Don’t,” I said. When he looked up at me, I said, “Don’t tell me I was too young. Don’t tell me it gives you second thoughts. And god of aggression hear me, don’t stop.”
He laughed then and obliged me, which is when I really realized he was on his knees in front of me. And that was my last thought before I felt his breath on me.
I don’t have to be told what you look like, aunera. I stood vigil on ij Qenain and his lovers, and yes, some of you have wondered if they were actually lovers and I can say for a fact that they were, both of them were, and yes, even the male who was so reticent with the lord’s caresses… it’s a strange thing, but I almost want to say that both of those aunera were far less comfortable with the kind of familial touches Ai-Naidar give one another in public than they were with the far more erotic wrestling behind closed doors. But anyway. Yes, I’ve seen you. We are similar enough in build that we could make use of one another. There are differences, they seem cosmetic… frankly, I think we’re prettier, but then, I would. The aunera in bed with the lord seemed to share my point of view, anyway.
My master’s mouth. So good, so unexpectedly assured and so shattering. I’d expected more hesitance and there was none. He’d made his choice.
God, his breath at my groin, when his nose was pressed against it. And his hands on my thighs, and the weight of his body as he steadied himself by them.
And his teeth pricking my skin… there’s one in the back on the right, it’s chipped—leftover from the trial, one of the metal bits came out wrong—to this day, that back tooth still drags on my intimate flesh, and it hurts and it’s perfect because it’s his.
So… he brought me first, and it was a blinding radiance, and when it was done I sank to my knees to face him and I sought his mouth with a crazed urgency. You don’t have a word for it, I hear: to kiss when one’s mouth tastes of another person’s body, their seed, their honey. We do: eshev. How can you not have a word for this, aunera? I had the taste of him from my mouth, and licked it clean all the way to his lips. He rested his hands on my chest and closed his eyes. I recognized the look; that was him allowing himself to experience it. The sight of it… can your heart break without you really knowing why? I was fiercely glad, and yet I wanted to come apart.
He met my eyes and then cupped my face with both hands. Because, of course, he saw it, damn it. He couldn’t not see it, he’s god-blessed Shame.
“Yes,” I said, before he could blame himself. “I know. And yes, you made me wait a long time. But it’s over, right? And I’m young, and you’re young, and we’ve got all our lives in front of us. So don’t—”
“—stop,” he said, guessing. And kissed my brow with a huff of a laugh. “You see clearly, menuredi.”
“If I see clearly, it’s because I’ve spent all my waking hours in clear-sighted company,” I said. And lifted my brows. “And do you know what else I see clearly?”
“What’s that?” he said.
“That you have needs that we can see to very effectively on that bed,” I said.
“We could use the floor,” he said.
I twisted my fingers in his hair and pulled him closer to me by it, brushing my cheek against his. “No,” I said. “Unless you want to tell me you’ve had other lovers since the trial? Other male lovers?”
“No,” he said, voice low, and the husk in it put the fur up all the way from nape to spine.
“Then we’re going to do this properly,” I said—and I don’t think that’s the best word for it, the word ‘proper,’ for us, ravalin is… ‘romantic proper,’ as in the way you do things for a lover you want to honor and pamper, but ‘proper’ will do—”on the bed.”
“As my menuredi wishes,” he said against my ear, smiling.
“Up,” I murmured. “I want to look at you, the way I’ve been wanting to look at you for years.” (See, I keep running into these translation issues. That’s look as in “appraise with sexual intent,” more or less. It’s its own word, yeles. He knew exactly what I wanted by the word, but for you aunera, I suspect, it would be innuendo but you wouldn’t know. How do you avoid embarrassing each other with such imprecise language?)
He obliged me, sat on the bed… very much as he has done a thousand thousand times on the floor in meditation, cross-legged with his hands on his knees, spine straight. God, such a beautiful man. I had seen him nude as many thousand thousand times, starting on that first day when Vekken had brought us in as students and we’d showered after the lesson… even then, he’d been… fascinating. None of us seem to get as thick as you do, aunera, but he was a broadsword to our foils. And finally he was mine to touch. And bite. And kiss. I was going to do it all the way from the underside of his chin, where the skin is tender…what the hell do you call that, aunera? It’s hhelfen to us… all the way down to his…
“I didn’t do that,” I said, eyes narrowing.
“No,” he agreed, and held out a hand for me. I slid mine into it and let him pull me to him. And knelt in front of him to touch the tackiness at his groin. (And maybe I was being a little cruel, not touching the rest of him, which very much wanted touching.)
“Not an erotic dream,” I guessed.
“No,” he said. “It will seem beyond believing, maybe, but it was—”
“—FARREN made you come?” I said, shocked.
He inclined his head and then watched me as I worked through it. “Your ajzelin. It was an accident?”
“Not entirely,” he said.
I studied him and then put the puzzle pieces together because, you know, I have my smart moments, or so I’m told. “This was what led to you being able to say yes to me. Don’t tell me he Corrected you.”
He started laughing and cupped my cheeks. “Have I told you lately how delightful you are, menuredi?”
“I’m right?” I said, astonished. “God, what did he do to you? And yes, I am asking, and I know it’s rude.”
I was expecting a succinct response, or a flippant one, so I was surprised when he looked up, searching for words, maybe. Considering them. Then he said, slowly, “You recall the trials.”
