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Happy Holidays from me and the boys to you!
A Thieves Solstice (conclusion)
Vorgell rudged up the last few stone steps to the door of the apartment he shared with Madd and touched the spell stone. That and a softly spoken word opened the door. It was not dark enough yet to tell if someone had lit a fire within. As soon as the door opened he felt the warmth and smelled the delicate fragrance of good almond wood and a whiff of meat pie. Madd reclined on low cushions scattered in front of the small hearth. With his black hair, and boyish body and face, the silken garments he favored gave him the look of a pampered prince of far off lands. He lifted a glass half filled with purple wine.
“The warrior returns,” he saluted.
“I’ve had a long day.” After letting Petal leap from his arm to the floor, Vorgell made a quick scan of their abode. They had only the one room, and a closet for the privy. His gaze lit upon the object at Madd’s right hand, a large bundle wrapped in what looked like soft hide and tied with red rope. His heart dropped, at least one rib, at the size of Madd’s gift.
He’d visited every merchant stall on the Street of Bellmakers, and those on the Street of Jewelers and the Street of Seven Fortunate Crafts. His late entry into the race to acquire a perfect gift had meant most of the best gifts being gone or beyond the vendors’ ability to create upon short notice. Even if choice leather were still on hand, it took four days to make a pair of good boots, and even his gold could not make the process shorter. It had been the same at the blade smith; the best knives were well picked over and it took too many days to craft a fine handle. He’d visited clothiers, silver wrights, goldsmiths and even an old cottage witch who might have some readymade spells for Madd’s trove, all to no avail.
The sun hurled brilliant orange light through the room’s one window, where Petal now squatted with an eye to unwary creatures stirring in the landlord’s garden. The basilisk’s presence was well-known enough that thieves or other scoundrels were infrequent trespassers. Only Reannry or the thief king Tagard ever braved a visit.
After removing his ram’s wool cloak and carry pack, he joined Madd on the cushions. His witchkin friend handed him a second glass, also filled with what proved to be a very good, if sweet, wine. Vorgell downed it with a grateful gulp, earning a predictable roll of Madd’s black eyes.
“Civilizing you is going to take the rest of my life.”
“May we both live long,” Vorgell responded, holding out his glass for more. Madd poured from an amphora of pale blue glass bound with leather and gold. Madd liked fine things and wasn’t above stealing those he fancied. This one had come from a visiting prince of Oldallia. The amphora’s cap sparked with sapphires and rubies.
“You keep drinking like that you’ll die tonight and be already pickled.”
“My people never die on the night of winter solstice. The Wolf Father created men on that day and his bitch wife is forbidden to collect souls on the eve of the world’s rebirth.”
“What do your people know? They drink bloody milk. It’s disgusting. Wine is a drink for civilized men.”
“Who die on the winter solstice.” Vorgell thumped Madd on the back with the hand not holding his drink. “What have you there beside you? Something you thieved for Tagard and are waiting until after dark to deliver?”
“You cannot possibly be so potted or dense that you don’t know a Solstice gift when you see one.”
“This is true. I know very well what it is.”
“Then you can also surmise it’s for you.” Madd gave the bundle a pat. It sounded reassuringly substantial. The only other facts Vorgell could ascertain were that it was not hollow or made of wood.
“No doubt also the reason why you’ve been acting strangely. Several times over the last two weeks I’ve woken to find you standing over me with your arms outstretched and holding pieces of string. I believe I accused you of plotting to strangle me.”
“A deed more easily done than what I was actually doing. Do you know your shoulders are nearly as broad as my armspan?”
Vorgell lifted an eyebrow. He did have broad shoulders. “Did you know I tried to tail you but was thwarted when you took to the rooftops?”
“Yes. Catching glimpse of your clumsy ass was why I took to the rooftops. I know your great bulk makes moving across them difficult.”
“My weight does tend to crush roof tiles.” Such was not the case with Madd, who was as short and lithe as a boy and would have made a fine dancer had he not chosen to be a thief.
“So stay off roofs and stop following me.” Madd shot him a triumphant smirk. “I came back by rooftops, too, because I know how you like to stake out my favorite alleyways.”
“You’ve been very elusive.”
“Only because I wanted to surprise you.”
“You have. I only figured out this morning the reason for your strange behavior.”
“Yes. I come from different customs. For solstice in my country we strip naked and plunge into hot springs where we stay and share manly tales until ice forms on our beards.”
Madd’s eyes narrowed to black slits. “Yes, I remember.”
It taken three brawny Scurrians to strip Madd and toss him into a hot spring but they had done so. Vorgell had arrived in time to witness the immersion, whereupon he had stripped himself and jumped in to assert his right to small, pretty and naked man’s company. Even so, Madd had yet to completely forgive him for having subjected him to the rough ways of the steppes.
“Afterward,” he continued, “we gorge. Gorging is the best way to send out the year and bring in the new. That and a long night of screwing.”
“I’d choose screwing any time over taking a bath in water that freezes on my balls. Or gorging on what Scurrians call food.”
“Hot blood and milk,” Vorgell recalled fondly. “Great hunks of mutton. Goose livers and boiled corn.”
“I bought meat pies. Big juicy ones stuffed with minced meats and healthy vegetables. We’ll eat meat pie, drink Gallenian wine, and I will give you this present.”
“And then maybe we can screw?” Vorgell’s cock perked at that. It didn’t need much by way of encouragement and was already standing stiffly at full mast.
“That depends on your gift.” When Vorgell glowered—because he really didn’t like sex to be dangled as a reward—Madd laughed. “Fuck you. Just because you’re up for sex every time you see a shapely ass, including the one that tax collector rides—doesn’t mean I can be had every time you wave a stiff prick. My ass needs coaxing. It needs to feel special.”
“Everything about you is special. Special to me.”
Madd’s broad grin shifted to become a tender smile. “Same to you, big guy.” He turned to pick up the hide-wrapped bundle. “My gift to you at the world’s end. That’s what your people say, right? That the world ends tonight? Well, this is for you to wear.”
The bundle had weight. It was not solid but had some give as Vorgell took it in his hands. The soft hide was tanned and large, probably from one of the great aurochs still found in Vorgell’s homeland. The scarlet cord was thick and supple and could be retained for future use. He untied it and opened the hide. Within lay a glorious mound of thick, heavy fur.
“It’s a cloak,” Madd explained, though Vorgell could see that for himself as he pulled it out. “It’s made of wolfskins, like those of your home country. Actually”—he hastened to point out—“it’s made of skin from the same wolves that kept me up with their howling in your home country. Scurrian skins. Not many make it to Gurgh so I had to arrange with a trader to get the right kind.”
Vorgell stood and placed the cloak over his shoulders. “This is very fine! And beautifully made!”
He had never worn a better cloak. The great wolf skins were dense and heavy, the weight on his shoulders made him feel powerful. The pelts shaded from palest silver to gray. Long silver guard hairs gave it a shimmering splendor that rivaled the cloaks of even the mightiest of Scurrian chiefs. His own father’s great cloak had not been so magnificent. Tears welled to his eyes but he blinked them away.
“Many thanks, little mage. This is the best gift I have ever received.”
“You are my Sun, so I—I want you to be warm, and safe, and”—to see Madd struggling for words was rare—“and you have no fashion sense. As skin cloaks go, this one at least makes a statement that you’re a barbarian to be reckoned with.”
His size made that statement, however Madd was right about the cloak enhancing any man’s presence. He would need to be armed whenever he went out in this, to fight off any who might seek to take it from him.
He knelt before Madd, who had sat up on the cushions, watching with dark, soulful eyes to gauge his reaction. Putting his hand behind Madd’s head, twining his fingers in soft black hair, he pulled the other man to him and into a long, deep kiss. As always, Madd tasted like home, like man and wine and sex. There was a hardness to him, something that would never be soft, but it was open and welcoming and so generous it took his breath away. He kissed him twice more, between needed breaths, then looked into eyes that looked happier than those of the hunted, haunted man he had first met not two years ago.
“You hunted these very skins for me?”
“Not myself. I paid a man to get them for me. And a furrier to make the cloak. I needed to know what size to make it, so when you were sleeping I’d measure whatever I could of you with string. I guess it worked because it sure looks good on you.”
“It’s perfect. And you’re perfect. My Sun.” He rose and went to the carry bag he had ported around to every merchant in Gurgh. He pulled something from it and returned to Madd, where he put it between them. “This is for you.”
A single golden fruit sat upon the blue velvet cushion.
Though Madd, mercifully, didn’t look disappointed, he did look mystified. It was, as pears went, a perfect specimen. Its golden skin glowed warm in the mellow light and it was at the peak of ripeness, its rich scent rising to envelope them both and induce a mouth-watering temptation to sink teeth into it and suck at its juices.
“You are my Sun, and I needed a gift that would convey my feelings for you. I started late, and I looked high and low, in places respectable and of total disrepute and there was no gift worthy of my feelings. Jewels there were, but jewels are hard and cold and people admire their glitter, and see them as things of value, but my feelings for you are that you are the thing of value. I saw knives and swords with bright blades, but blades are sharp and biting and people fear them, but my feelings have nothing in them of fear unless it be fear of losing you. People steal these things but nothing can ever steal away my feelings for you. Clothing and fabrics will tear or rip or become threadbare with age, but my feelings for you never will.
“My feelings are such that I wish to become part of you.” It was not easy to explain what he felt about either Madd or his gift. “I wish to sustain you, nourish you, keep you whole and living. This pear is living. It was picked this morning from the glass enclosed garden of the Sun Temple by the hands of one of the Virgins there. May my gift give you magic and life, and become part of you, and keep you healthy and whole.”
Madd looked at him in wonder. “You’re quoting some poet, right?”
Vorgell brushed his fingers down Madd’s cheek. “No. I have no tongue for poetry. Part of my gift is that I let you know what I feel.”
All at once Madd’s arms were around his neck. “You oaf. You big amazing oaf.” His silken lips brushed Vorgell’s ear and launched a firestorm of want. “Fuck the wolf skin cloak. This pear is the best gift any man ever got. I’ve stolen or enjoyed everything a man could ever want in a hundred lifetimes, and still you manage to top it all.”
Carefully taking the pear and putting it next to the amphora of wine, Vorgell rolled Madd under him on the cushions. Part of the wolf skin cloak now lay under Madd’s head, so that his hair spread out against fur of the finest silver. He looked decadent, priceless, and just a bit wicked. Vorgell’s blood heated, and not only because it was a rare treat to get his witchkin partner in so yielding a mood. Not to mention his cock was now so hard it might just burst if he did not put it to work. He planted his knees to either side of Madd’s delectable body.
“If that’s settled,” he growled, “I say it’s time we get to gorging and screwing.” His partner’s silk trousers did nothing to hide the outline of Madd’s erection.
“You gorge. I screw.”
“We will both gorge and screw until the world has ended. And we will welcome the reborn world with full bellies and tired cocks.” Vorgell could think of no better way to greet a new dawn. He lowered his head to nip at Madd’s collarbone, provoking a most provocative arching of the other man’s back.
“And heavy heads from all the drink.” Madd was kissing his hair now and clutching at his arms. “Take off the cloak. One of us is bound to spray come on the damn thing.”
It was too fine to risk. Vorgell unclasped it and flung it to safety across the room. He returned attention to his partner and was surprised when Madd grabbed him by the jerkin and hauled him down for more kisses. He worked his hands over Madd’s chest, moved them down over his ribcage to the taut, hard body and then his ass. When Madd arched again, he hurried to loosen the drawstring on the silk pants and tug them down over those taut thighs, freeing Madd’s straining cock. It sprang up to slap Vogell’s belly, leaving a wet trail.
“I shall never have my fill of you,” Vorgell murmured.
“Hold on a moment.” Madd rolled to reach for the pear. He took it and a small knife he’d laid near the wine and cut several slices. He ate one slice. Then with a naughty grin he rubbed another up and down his rigid cock.
Someone was asking to be eaten.
With a bellow of enthusiasm, Vorgell positioned Madd’s legs over his shoulders and sucked on his cock, savoring the sweet taste of pear and aroused male. Only when Madd cried out he was close, did Vorgell offer him mercy. It took barely any of his brawn to flip Madd over onto his hands and knees. Though he could not take Madd’s ass with so little preparation, he found nearly as much pleasure using his cock between the other man’s thighs. That too was hot and tight. Taking two slices of pear, he squeezed them until the juices ran sticky and clear over his cock just before he slid into place.
Madd moaned and rolled his pelvis, providing even more friction as Vorgell’s cock, slippery with pear juice and pre-come, pushed along his scrotum to rub along his erection.
“Moondeath, Vorgell! Gods—”
That and similar utterances drove him on. Wrapping one arm under Madd’s body, he drew him close and held him nearly immobile as he quickened his pace. Fucking was something he enjoyed too well not to take advantage of his opportunities. For most of their encounters Madd was the one on top.
With every thrust he felt himself giving, sharing himself body and soul. The man in his arms bucked and howled with pleasure. When Madd reached down and wrapped both hands around their stiff cocks, Vorgell offered up a mighty groan of his own and surrendered, plunging wildly until both of them grunted and shuddered and shot come onto the cushions in thick jets. It took all Vorgell’s presence of mind to pull Madd upright with him so they could topple back—Madd’s body atop his heavily breathing one—onto the cushions they had not soiled.
As their breathing slowed and their hearts found the same rhythm, Vorgell’s only thought was that such fine fucking as this was always over too soon. He wished he could fuck Madd for days, though ordinary sense told him neither of them would truly enjoy such a marathon. But he wished it were possible. Sex for him was more than an opportunity for release and a chance to enjoy a delicious malaise.
“I love you,” he said, because he did.
“I love your dick.” It was what Madd always said. That there was some truth to what he said made his saying it bearable… and so did the way he tilted his head back and smiled so warmly. “You know why I gave you the cloak, right? I gave it because I knew you’d look fucking noble and strong, exactly the way you really are, the way I always see you, and I want the whole world to see it. Gurgh’s a shithole. And you’re the only man in it who isn’t a piece of shit.”
“So you gave me a cloak fit for a prince?”
“Yeah. Because you’re… you’re my Sun, too. My fucking Sun. The thought of a world without you in it makes me sick. I can’t imagine anyplace darker, and I’ve spent lots of time in dark places. Whatever your reason for wanting to be with me, I’m glad, because—I’m really happy you’re you, and you’re with me and not someone else.”
Vorgell pulled Madd down to his side and tucked him close. Solstice would yield to dawn and the increasing days of a new year, but two men who had found their Suns in each other had nothing to fear.
NEVER THE END
Hope you enjoyed this little story. I certainly enjoyed writing it and there’s more to come. All comments and/or questions are welcome. *hugs*
Happy Holidays for all, and a very Happy New Year!