THERE! Someone had tapped into the aetheric. They had woven a spell. It was powerful, it's echo on the otherworld was familiar. Though Hunter could not place it exactly. It felt vaguely of a healing. It was odd that an adept should be found here. Though he knew that the world was wide, and the cradle of his jungle home wasn't the only place where the old powers lingered.
Perhaps this magus should know of the creature's presence within this city, but the thought was quickly put aside. Beings with the skill to heal seldom were warriors, and given their sensitivities to the outside world, were often warped if they employed their skills to widely. Long experience told the Hunter to let this cat lie sleeping.
Besides, he was close. Very close. He felt the pounding of the speakers in the street beyond the 'club'. It was loud and obnoxious. The 'Decadence' was just another of the many places of the same ilk he had seen on this street, and so far the only one the his quarry had yet to frequent. The smell of smoke and alcohol was strong in the air. Though even those signatures were overwhelmed by the scent of men. These men were in deep rut. The smell of spilt seed and traces of muffled moaning could be heard from the large black, double doors situated to the rear of the building.
That is where the scent was leading him, it was miraculous, and nothing short of it, that he was able to hang on this long. With all the interference he was getting, he was surprised that there had been any hope at all.
He made for the doors, on several occasions having to ignore the gropes of several men as he made his way past. Their hands were everywhere it seemed, and if he had stopped he would have been lucky to get out of there wearing anything other fingerprints. He let his lips curl into a smile, 'if they only knew'. He even allowed himself a chuckle, though he was certain most of it came from nerves. Beyond that door could be the end. His end, everybody's end.
Just as he was about to cross the last railed area, a maze like contraption, a large burly man stood in front of him. "Sorry, the 'Powder Room' has been reserved for the next hour. You'll have to wait." The man would have been intimidating had the hunter been what he appeared. Though he didn't want to create a scene. He was trying to think of something diplomatic that would get him inside, when on the edge of his hearing, stressed and hurting because of the bass, he heard a scream. It was short and ragged like the sound someone makes when they are in extreme pain. Then it was silenced. IT was FEEDING!
He picked the three hundred pound man up and threw him aside like he was a rag doll. The burly bruiser was so stunned that this punk could evidence so much strength that he just sat there and looked on in shock as Hunter kicked the oak doors open with a crash.
It took only a fraction of a second to realize that he was too late. The body was draped over the leather couch as if it were a coat. And the back door was wide open. He didn't bother to knee and check the body. He kenw perfectly well that there was nothing anyone could do for that poor soul now.
He vaulted out of the door, and emerged into an alley as dark as anything he had yet to see in this city of lights and noise. The smell of urine and sex was thick in the air. It mottled his nose, but luckily his second sight had no such affliction. He scanned the area, hoping to see something. Standing out darkly in the aetheric as a trail. The otherworld was pure light, all beautiful shades of varying blues. Lights flared and ebbed as the life forces of beings expanded or contracted. But cutting through the middle of it was a dark ribbon.
You see even the air is a live, it is pulsing with the energy of the world itself. But the creature feeds on life, even the life of things that have never been truly alive. That was why it was so terrible, the very world itself is not immune to this being. But life was quickly rushing in to fill the void for nature hates a vacuum. And by doing so it was cutting off his trail.
He ran as fast as he could. Hoping to avoid traffic or bystanders. Such material things, especially those purified by man, didn't always stand out in the aetheric. He was gaining, and then.... Nothing. There was nothing. He switched back to his regular senses and looked down. He was standing at the edge of a rail, beneath him the was the dark of the river. The being had fled to the depths, at least for now. The good thing about not needing to breath is that is creates a wider variety of escape opportunities.
Resolving himself to wait, the hunter returned to the shore. The great body of water beneath him was unnerving. He scanned the dark surface as he did so. Hoping the creature would return immediately to land. He did not.
"I asked you a question. What the hell was THAT?!" Darren knew his voice had risen several octaves. He could see the smile on Terry's face diminish a little, as though he were trying to hide the pained expression.
"Nothing bad, I wouldn't hurt you."
Darren wanted more, a lot more. "I didn't ask if it was bad, I don't think you'd hurt me, but.... Terry, what you did..." he was backing away, "It isn't possible."
Terry smiled, "Actually, since I just did it, that would make it possible." Darren had lost the mood to laugh. Terry picked up on the lack of returned mirth. "Sorry."
"Don't be sorry, just explain it." Darren got himself under control, or at least a semblance of it.
"Dar, there's a lot more that happened to me, I didn't want you to know yet. I didn't know how you would feel about it." He was definitely looking nervous.
"Yeah, well, It would still have been nice to know you could do a glowy kiss thing!" His terminology brought a smile to terry's face, though he didn't laugh, he wasn't about to make the situation worse than he had already.
"Okay, I'll tell you Darren, but you have to promise not to jump the gun and get crazy or anything like that okay?" the look on darren's face was not a pleasant one, and he was getting impatient. But in the end he nodded his consent.
"Well, first thing, that is called healing. It is easy and simple and completely harmless. I just wanted to take away the trigger for you emotional pain. That was all."
"Yes, but HOW did you do it Terry?" Darren was getting irate again.
"Magick."
"Magick?"
"Yep." A cute little bobbing of the head.
"Like Merlin and Charmed?" Darren was looking pale, not mad.
"Not quite, though it gives you the general idea." Terry was smiling, but it was forced.
Darren back up until he came to the bar stool. Suddenly he was very aware that all he wore was an apron. "Your telling me that you're a witch?"
Terry shook his head, "No, I am telling you that I am a magus, or something like one, I haven't committed to study, and I doubt I ever will. I know just enough to heal minor stuff and keep it under control. That's about it." Darren wasn't lessing in his pallor anymore.
"But, how, I mean... that stuff's only in the movies. How in the hell do you do something like that?" He was well and truly freaked.
The food was almost done so he grabbed a plate and spoke while he did so. "How is complicated, thing about it like this. There are people, a larger number than you would imagine, that are born with gifts. Just like a photographic memory or whatever. They are just random phenotypes in the genetic mush that humanity is. Well, somewhere out there, floating around is another phenotype. This one is very old, not newly evolved like many others. It is just about all that is left from an ancient civilization. Where they came from, what they were doing, how they died, these are things to which we will probably never now. Anyway, this genetic anomaly is their legacy. It is a small part of their gift, passed on to their children." Terry handed Darren the plate who took it wide eyed. He knibbled at the pasta and even tried to take a bite of the steak.
"Well, obviously this civilization built the sight where we were digging. In the course of the excavation, we found a chamber. It was in the base of the original temple. And there were dire warnings written all over the place. Well, My dad, Peter, and I went in. It was like nothing we'd ever seen before Darren. The walls were cut from pure crystal, and like no mineral we'd ever seen before. The symbols were cut into the stone. Well, apparently this room was used for healing or some such. Because it was attuned to everyone who walked in. The air temperature changed to what was the most comfortable for everyone. After a few weeks, we started to notice changes. First there was peter, who had always been a handful, was becoming unbearable.
And my dad started acting like he was twenty again. He even hooked up with one of his assistants. They started keeping the entire camp up with their moaning and groaning." He had his own plate fixed and brought it to the bar where Darren was pretending to eat. Now he had to tell his story between mouthfuls.
"I noticed that I was remembering things better, and that for once I wasn't misplacing everything, nothing too dramatic. That's when I started seeing peter for what he was. It was like I had an insight into everything. Well, one night Peter came to my tent, he was reeking of booze, and something else. I wouldn't let him touch me, the next thing I know, I am down on the ground, he's on top of me. He's saying he's gonna kill me and that I am a pervert, and no better than my old man. He hit me, and I nearly blacked out." Now Terry's voice wasn't sounding perky, it was scared and you could hear how frightened he was.
"I was in and out for a little while, long enough for him to get my pants down, at least. I could barely breath much less put up a fight. Then, I felt him, started pushing in. It had never felt good, but now, it hurt! I mean bad, He wanted to hurt me, wanted to see me suffer." Terry was lost in his story now.
"I don't know what happened. I screamed at him to stop and he wouldn't so, I pushed against him. And it was like there was pressure in my head. And I pushed with that pressure. Next thing I now, He get pushed all right. It looked like an invisible Mac truck slammed into him. He didn't just fall off me; he was thrown. He ripped through my tent and didn't land for thirty or forty feet. BY the time that I got my clothes back on and out the cabin, he was running into the woods." Terry went quiet and enjoyed the taste of his dinner.
"So... this room, did this to you?" Darren was trying to grasp it, he really was, it was just so damned hard. This kind of thing happened in books and movies.
"Actually no, my proximity to the obelisk just awakened something was already there. I always had the ability, I just never knew." Terry popped more meat into his mouth. "I still wouldn't be able to if it wasn't for Tep'ktokal."
"Who," Darren didn't even want to try and pronounce that one.
"Ol Tep. He was the local joo joo man. Though in truth he was a lot more. He showed up the next day saying that the spirits cried out to him. He showed me how to control it, though he didn't have enough of the gift to do half the things I did. He gave me all the knowledge he could, which is probably the only reason I can function around people."
Darren had absorbed this, and he was doing a fairly good job of not losing his mind. But there were things he just couldn't accept. Not without proof. He didin't say this to Terry of course. He hoped it would just work itself out in time.
Terry looked at him and fear born of uncertainty flashed across his face. "Darren, if I didn't trust you, I wouldn't have told you all of this. There are only a handful of people in the world who know about this, if it got out..." that was one thought that he didn't need to finish. Darren understood what would happen. He knew how small and petty people could be.
The thought of what Terry was telling him was frightening him to the core. But it still didn't change the way he felt about the crazy boy. Even if that craziness was a little bit more adavanced than anyone ever thought. And then there was the glowing and the heat and fact that his scars were suddenly not there anymore. It occurred to him then, that he had not thanked Terry for what he did, whatever that may have been.
He apologized, "I should say thank you, I mean, I sure didn't want em as a reminder of him." He didn't even say Richard's name. "But, Terry, I don't know about this. I mean, I was already having enough trouble figuring 'us' out as it was. To find out your merlin or something on top of that doesn't exactly uncomplicated things, you know."
Terry looked at him, "First, I am not 'Merlin' I don't go around callin you 'cracker', show me the same courtesy..." he didn't finish, Darren was snickering at him. "what?"
"You call me 'cracker' all the time!" he was still chuckling.
Terry couldn't help but smile, he remembered that he did indeed refer to Darren as Cracker. "Listen, my point is this." He rose from the bar and walked to where Darren was sitting. Pulling the other man around he fit himself between the opened legs. His hands laying on thighs to bare to be overlooked. His hands resting on well shaped hips, and his thumbs stroking small circles entirely too close to major nerve groups. His head came down and his mouth caught Darren's; their tongues locking passionately. When they broke, "I love you, I loved you even before I knew I did. I left that humid hell hole because after Peter ran off I was stuck with hard choices and the only person I could think of was you. You think I never noticed the way you looked at me those first couple of terms at college. You'd have sold your eye teeth to get in my pants. I was just to small to realize what that meant. No matter what has happened to me, no matter how odd I may be, or the weird things that I can do, I promise, that I love you."
Darren couldn't speak, he was without motor control, it took him several minutes to break the silence. "A queer could wait their whole life for a speech like that but you know... you had me at 'cracker'."
Terry laughed, he laughed so hard he nearly cried. The tension was gone from the air. There were still some particulars to work out. But that could be settled later. For now there was nothing beyond the two of them.
Terry hugged Darren and held him close. He really loved the feel of the other man pressed against his body. "what do you say we go to bed?"
Darren looked at him, "doesn't your ass ever get sore?"
Terry snickered, "well as a point of fact, no matter how hard you fuck me, I can always heal it up again... but I was actually thinking of sleep. We've been at it for about ooohhh... nine and a half hours now. And between that little light bulb show I just gave you and augmenting the hell out of my ass, I am bushed." The mention of his abilities would have given Darren pause, but somehow it was like seeing him naked, it raised a bar of something.
"You may be tired, but if I put my ass back on that bed without some serious cleaning of the sheets I might just catch something." He was fairly certain they would have to be thrown away.
Terry chuckled low in his throat, it was a sexy, golden laugh, when issued from those lips it was enough to make hearts, and other organs, do the flip. Wrenching his mind back to the topic at hand, Darren put away the dishes, leaving them for in the morning. His mind was bent on other cleaning.
The sheets and blankets left the bed with a flourish. A pile of the sheets ended up on one side of the floor and the blanket on the other. He ransacked the the linen closet which was still pretty bare, but luckily he had a spare set. It was never good to be caught without clean sheets. They were fitted into the corners and tucked with military precision, a marine drill seargeant couldn't have complained about his performance.
"you know, when you really concentrate, you get this little crease in the middle of your forehead, and you hold your tongue between your teeth." That melodious voice drifted to the doorway. "I would offer to help, but there, you see, your already done."
Darren looked at the very naked, very hot blonde who rested casually against the door frame. His blinding white smile was enough to light any pilot, but Darren was spent. Tommorrow he would be happy to fuck Terry till exhaustion, again. But for now, he was just to far gone. He was glad Terry felt the same. He doubted he could refuse the man anything.
As they climbed into the bed again, this time with nothing more carnal on their minds than to snuggle close to each other and drift to sleep.
Richard pulled on the lip. He nibbled at it, using his teeth as a playful weapon. His hips flowed along the hollow of the other man's groin as though it was made especially for that space. He had always had good rhythm, that was just one of his many hooks. After more than an hour on the dance floor, he was more than ready to take it to the next step. And given the nature of the club he was in, the next step involved his balls and a tongue.
He'd been disappointed when the first little stud he'd started the gyrations with had been a bust. The man had red hair, which wasn't normally the trick that turned him on, a generous allotment of mouth, and from the way the leather pants clung to his ass and package, something even better. He also knew the value of silk underwear. The feel of that ass had been marvelous as it caressed its way along his aching boner. He total effect was enough to pull him in somehow.
But then he'd overplayed his hand, whispering into the other's ear to go back to his place. The man turned and looked at him and there had definitely been hunger in those eyes. The man had wanted him, bad, so he didn't understand whyk, a second later, the stranger had turned on his heel and walked away. Though Richard knew he wouldn't forget those haunting green eyes anytime soon.
He looked meaningfully at the other, one of those delicious blends of Asian or islander, and Caucasian. He had a definite Zen for Asian Americans. He'd always laughed at his own cleverness at the turn of phrase. The long slender hands slipped into his and he led the way off the dance floor. The throng parted as though they were royalty. As they were making their way through the open door, they heard a bit of noise, managing against whatever laws that governed sound, to rise above the thump thump of the music. Richard didn't look back
The two were out of the club and into the parking lot before the cold slap of the wind even had time to register on their numb faces. There was a spot along the wall where the safety lights had gone out, and the sweet little boy was against the hard brick and moaning Richard's name in seconds. It was a preordained conclusion, there was not other outcome. He was a fucker, and the asian a fuckee. There were nearly a hundred just like him in the pulsing building on which they leaned.
All of this he thought as he once again went for the lip. That was apparently this one's weak spot. He had always been an extremely good kisser, but it was nice every now and then to get someone who was into it. They lingered only a moment, as the call of his cock grew louder and more insistant. They were in his Porsche and screeching away in no time. Within seconds only two black tire tracks to every let anyone know they were there.
The inside of the apartment was warm, and he hadn't been able to completely remove the smell of old food and collected untidiness. He still wasn't sure how he was going do about his clothing. His first attempt with using the complex's washroom had ended with several of his top dollar pants bleached and shredding.
Not that any of that mattered now, as his shirt hit the floor and the asian's pants were pulled off his body. A little jostling and some muttered curses and soon they were both naked, and writhing. The sweat which quickly built of their bodies smacking in the gloom of the apartment. The only light that which seeped through the blinds.
He could here the little dark haired man's grunting and moaning as his big cock went sliding back and forth in his gut. The grunts began ending with a little whimper. Richard allowed himself a little smile, he started pumping harder. The whimpers became stronger than the grunts preceding them. Now he threw his lethargy off completely, allowing the pleasure to wash over him.
He felt his jism start to boil low in his balls, the sensation of pleasureable pressure pressing from his lowering stomach and traveling slowly up his channels until the wave of ecstasy slammed into him. The little asian was really pummeled then as he pounded his pleasure into the suffering ass. By now the boy was beyond pain, he didn't even know he was experiencing anything other pleasure. The drugs had seen to that.
In the morning when he could barely move and he noticed the blood in his underwear, he would have an idea of what had happened to him. But everytime he would try to look back at the person who had done that to him, everything would be a blur. The only thing he could remember was how good that drink the man had given him tasted. Consequently it was the last time he went clubbing without his friends, and the very last time he went home with someone.
After letting his bliss wash over him Richard got the little shit up and out the door as fast as he could. He knew the kid hadn't nutted and that he was so fucked if anyone saw him, they would trace it back to him. SO Richard did the only thing he could. He called a cab and paid for it.
As soon as the door closed, he flipped the lights on and looked around the loft. The little touches in the design were really quite remarkable. He would have given credit to Darren for them, but to give credit to the little weasel just wasn't in Richard. He'd scrubbed all day to get the place looking clean, and still it was like everything was tarnished, it just wouldn't come out right. He'd caught on the idea in the early afternoon, that maybe the reason why the place was always so clean was because Darren hired a service in secret. And to think he was always bitching about how dirty Richard kept everything. It made him so angry the times he'd put up with it, only to find out the little weasel was lying the whole time.
He didn't bother to put on his clothes, though he kept the silk boxers on. They felt too good to take off, and he'd never lost them in his rutting of the boy. He traipsed through the loft, moving towards the bedroom. He needed to take a shower, to get the stink of the club and his exertions off of him.
He entered the bedroom, flipping on the light switch. When nothing happened he wanted to curse. That was just what he needed! He stumbled around in the dark, groping his way along the wall to the bathroom hoping to not damage his toes in the process. That's when he heard it.
The chuckling was low, but soft. It wasn't the harsh rasp of the evil villain in the movies. In fact it was kind of nice in an unusual sort of way. "Well, well, what have we. I believe I smell sex... and candy." The figure chuckled again at his clever turn of phrase. Richard thought it wasn't very funny but then, he was too panicked to actually think.
"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU!?" He yelled into the dark room.
The question was followed by more chuckling and a feeling of blinding pain that dropped him to his knees. HE didn't feel anything hit him, the agony just washed through him. "Who the fuck am I? Well, for starters, I am the last person you will ever see!" the words trailed off as the blackness encroached around him.