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Thirteen

I always return here To the flash of those colors Through every window The wind through the night

"You've got to be kidding me." Orsin smacked an eight down over Xavis's five, and took the pair. He shook his head, flashing a grin at the Ash's bewildered face across the table. "Nope. Not once." Xavis scratched at his ears. He took the first card off the deck and tossed forward a four. Orsin revealed a Jack, and took his prize. "Even in the Citadel?" "Even in the Citadel." Orsin patted his stomach, where the overcooked breakfast lay. He hadn't complained once. Their plates were stacked neatly aside, and after he tossed a two out onto the battlefield, he reached out a finger, gathered up a mound of grease, and stuck it in his mouth. Xavis revealed an Ace, rolled his eyes, and took the two. "What a waste," he muttered, then resumed the conversation. "You've really never fired a gun before? What about a pistol?" "Not even," Orsin said, tossing out another eight. "They had me solely on frontline duty. I hadn't ever fired a bow either, not until I got out here." Xavis shook his head. "Scorch. I thought every Blood fahrar went over firearms training." He tossed out another card and took his kill. "It could be an age thing," Orsin speculated. "Or an, an economy thing. Guns are probably easier to produce now than when I was growing up. They might've needed to save a silver or two." Xavis furrowed his brow, but relented. He didn't think Orsin was much older than himself, but that was more a speculation about his own age than about the hunter's youth. He would have pegged Orsin at just below forty. He shrugged the question off and tossed out a Queen. "So I guess you mostly sneak up on your prey and stab it then?" Orsin tossed out a Queen too, and his eyes went alight with excitement. They paused their discussion as Xavis sat up. Together, they incanted as they slapped cards face-down, "I - de - clare - WAR!" Xavis revealed a seven, Orsin a three. The big guy groaned, and Xavis grinned mightily as he took his new soldiers. Orsin sat back, lifting his bare leg and crossing it over his knee. He looked up thoughtfully, not noticing Xavis subtly stare at the big footpaw hanging against the air. "Sometimes, but usually I use a bow. I have some traps set around too. Guns are too noisy anywhere, and the sound carries across snow, so I don't miss them." Xavis nodded, clearing his throat. "That makes sense," he said with a nod. "What are your favorite things to hunt? Dolyaks, I bet?" Orsin flashed a grin, flipping forward a nine. "I like dolyaks, but there's a big problem with hunting them." Xavis canted his head. He revealed another Jack and took the nine, then started to shuffle his pile of collected cards. "A problem? Are they angry?" Orsin snorted, and then it grew into a full grown hearty laugh. Xavis found himself smiling and had to lower his gaze. "They can be, but they are usually pretty timid. They're good meat too, very tender. But the problem is that it's hard to tell the males from the females, and their mating seasons last, they last over half a year." Xavis tipped his head. "I'm not following." Orsin's brown eyes flickered with delight. He tossed out a three, then uncrossed his head. He started to righten his chest, looking proud and stern. Sitting there on the couch in the buff, he made for a surprisingly majestic figure. Xavis leaned forward on his knee and propped his head up with a thin smile, seeming willing to play along. "There's a rule among hunters that's more important than any other," Orsin intoned with forced gravitude, like an elderly norn telling his grandchild an important story. "It's a, a difficult rule to follow, because it involves selflessness, honor, and forward thinking." He paused for effect, and Xavis's tail gave a little flicker behind his chair. He raised an eyebrow, waiting. "Never, ever kill a pregnant female, or a mother with newborns." Orsin lowered his head, giving Xavis's attentive expression a smile. "Killing one dolyak today can mean four fewer dolyaks next year. If you kill a mama, then either her calves will die inside her, or die around her, 'cuz they don't know how to feed themselves yet. That's even, that's even worse. Dolyaks have emotions, you know. They can mourn." His voice had become gradually softer. Xavis's smile started to fade as he realized Orsin was fighting his emotions -- probably not enough to cry, but surely enough to feel down. The mesmer wasn't sure he quite understood, as he could care less about whether a bunch of shaggy sheep-cows felt sad, but he nevertheless understood the pragmatism of the words. "Especially out here in this valley, where food is scarce," Xavis said. "Killing one dolyak today could mean you don't see one again for two or three years. Right?" "That's right," Orsin replied, and he grinned so wide and with such obvious pride that Xavis found himself returning the look. "I guess it's the same for everything, then? Squirrels, hares, even fish. Probably not deer, though, I feel like I saw a l...ot..." A darkness had washed over Orsin's expression. His lips pulled back into a scowl, his brow furrowing over his eyes. The look was so fierce, and so uncharacteristic, that Xavis was momentarily taken aback. "Uh, wha-" "It's nothing," Orsin grunted. He flipped off the top card of his deck and cast it forward. It fell face-down, and the hunter made no effort to turn it up. Xavis gave him a curious look. He stuck the edge of his card -- another Jack -- under Orsin's, and flipped it up to reveal a ten. "It's obviously something. Did I say something wrong?" "No," Orsin grouched. He flashed his teeth in a grimace, then shook his head, trying to relax. "No. Scorch. Sorry. No. I just..." Xavis lifted his eyebrows expectantly. "I despise deer." The peal of laughter rocketed from Xavis's throat in a loud guffaw. He clamped both hands over his muzzle. But then Orsin got so red in the face with embarrassed rage that Xavis felt the mirth breaking through his fingers. "It's not funny!" Orsin cried out, his cheeks flush. He stood up in a rush, leaving the game behind. He turned around and paced, his naked body hunched over, his, well, his everything wobbling visibly with every angry step. "Deer are a scorching menace, Xavis. They ruin crops, they run into doors and windows and break them! They knock over cans, they scaldin' destroy gardens and little trees, and they breed like scorchin' rabbits!" He turned on Xavis and roared at him. "Stop laughin' at me!" Xavis was almost doubled-over at this point. He was howling openly until his chest gave way to helpless wheezing. He clutched at his stomach with one hand and waved at Orsin with the other as though begging him to -- "Stop," he gasped through peeled of mirth. "Stop, hrahahaha, stop, oh scorch, hrahahahah, oh burn me, haha, I'm gonna barf, hrahahah--" But Orsin's tantrum pressed on unabashed, and Xavis felt a new wave of hilarity wash over him. He had never seen any charr worked up over something so trivial. "Oh yeah, you think it's funny! You think it's so scorchin' hilarious! Deer spread disease, and, and, and filth! Whole families have been sick for months 'cuz some stupid deer came bursting down their doors like the idiots they are! They scat everywhere, they destroy flowers, and they're so stupid and easy to catch that they scorchin' explode predator populations, which has a whole slew-a other problems! I hate 'em! I scorchin' hate deer more'n I can scorchin' say, an', an', an'--" Xavis was about 30% sure he was going to die. He had literally fallen out of his chair. His lungs were on fire, and he clutched at his body, gulping down air. Through tear-streaked eyes, he could barely make out red-faced Orsin huffing and puffing up a storm, his body worked up. Xavis had a keen eye for exaggeration, but he could tell the hunter was being completely, absolutely earnest, and he felt another peal of laughster rising up in his stomach. This one, he bit down. "I'm sorry, Orsin," Xavis said when he said, pulling himself up onto his knees. He sniffed loudly and wiped the wetness from his eyes. "Phew... phew, scorch, I'm not laughing at you in a bad way. I've just, I've just never seen you get like this. I didn't know anybody in all of Tyria had such strong opinions about deer." Orsin crossed his arms over his white-furred chest and scowled. Xavis tried to restore composure to his expression, even though Orsin's naked appearance was causing the hysterics to rise up once more inside him. "It's not just me," the flustered charr mumbled, his anger subsiding into mere grouchiness. "Lots of hunters don't like deer. They're pests. I don't like 'em, Xavis." "I know, I know," the Ash said. He had regained himself. "You don't like deer. I should have noticed, you didn't carve any elks or stags or anything." He had gradually approached Orsin. Another surge of indignation ran through the big guy. "That's another thing," he complained, shooting a dark look toward the collection of whittlings over the shelf. "Their scorching horns are, are, they're scaldin' impossible to make with wood. Even fake deer are nothing but bad news."Xavis froze mid-step. He inhaled deep, tensing his body up, resisting another bout of helpless laughter. Once he was sure it was repressed, he took Orsin's paw in both of his little ones, gradually uncrossing him. He lead Orsin toward the couch, and bade him quietly to sit down. The hunter complied, but he didn't look happy about it. "You don't understand, Xavis," Orsin mumbled, though as he regained his senses, his cheeks remained flushed beneath his orange fur, humiliation taking the place of ire. "They're the only thing that gets under my skin. I don't, I don't even, scorch, I don't even like the taste of deer." His troubled expression grew a little more perplexed as Xavis lifted each of his legs up, resting his feet down on the table. The Ash brushed the cards aside (he was losing anyway)and kneeled beside Orsin's right foot. He took it into both hands, kneading his pads intently. "There, there," Xavis said soothingly. "I'm sorry I laughed at you. We all have our soft spots. It was rude of me." Orsin was still pouting, but his expression was softening as Xavis began to touch his foot. His toes clenched, and he wriggled his nose as he sneered. "You don't, don't gotta apologize, as long as you know. Somethin' about them just, it just works me up. With their big stupid eyes, and their ugly legs..." "I know, I know." The mesmer was running his left hand along the back of Orsin's paw now. His right had balled into a fist, and he was kneading that central pad with his knuckles. "Tell you what. I'm going to need supplies for the trek home, you know? So when the weather warms up, before I leave, you and I can go hunting deer. You can show me how to kill one, and then I can show you how to cook it. How does that sound?" Orsin tilted his head back and let out a low sigh, and Xavis knew his plan had paid off. The ire was drifting off the hunter like steam, and while he kept his grimace, his expression softened. He opened his toes up, and Xavis took the hint, slipping his fingers toward them and running them through the fur between them. Orsin let out a breath, and with it, the last of his exasperation. "Yeah... yeah, that sounds good. See if we can... find a real big buck to kill." "Mmmhmm." Keeping his right hand between Orsin's toes, he brought his left around. He scritched the orange-furred area near his heel, then gently coaxed his fingers upward to rub the sensitive underside of his paw. Orsin swallowed audibly, sinking back against the sofa. He had his eyes closed, muzzle pointed toward the ceiling. His voice was still a growl, but it softer, more placated. "You, you like rubbing paws, don't you?" "Is it that obvious?" Xavis quipped dryly, continuing to knead at the big guy's right foot. He looked up his partner's body, and, spotting the first hint of pink peeking out from within the orange sheath, broke into a grin. "I don't see you complaining." "Scorch, complain? What kinda charr -- hell, what kind of any guy doesn't like getting his feet rubbed?" "Tons," Xavis said with certainty. He shook his head, taking his eyes off of that growing prize to focus on the hunter's displayed footpaw. "Charr more than most. A lot of them don't like being touched down here. Could be they're ticklish. But I think that a lot of macho charr guys just don't like feeling vulnerable, or they feel ashamed at being pampered." Orsin smacked his chops. A ripple ran up his body, but he was getting better about keeping his foot still. "They're missing out," he said finally, squeezing his toes with Xavis's fingers between them. "Well, that, or maybe you're just really good at it." "Column A, column B," Xavis replied dismissively. He was moving over to Orsin's other foot now, and he saw the orange charr's leg tense in anticipation. He chuckled, bringing forth all eight of his fingers to stroke up his sole. Orsin sighed again, stretching his arms up over his head. His charrhood was at half-mast now, but he made no movements, content to let Xavis do his work. "I appreciate it, Xavis. I appreciate it a ton. But do you get anything out of it?" Xavis chuckled, now pressing his thumbs deep into that central pad. "A lot." "Yeah?" "Yeah. Remember what we said about the butt stuff?" Xavis looked up with a smirk as Orsin snicker-snorted, the charr equivalent of a giggle. He thought that might get a laugh out of him. "It's partially about the emotional aspect, of being able to do something your partner likes." "Mmmmm..." the hunter assented. He arched his foot and pushed it up slightly, silently indicating the spot where he wanted to be massaged next. Xavis complied, digging the side of his palm into the soft spot of the pad. "Part of it's psychology too. Some people are just into different things. Some guys just like paws, and some don't. We're in the former group." "Mmmmhmm," Orsin rumbled, once more closing his eyes. "But there's..." Xavis hesitated, and he even stopped rubbing for a bit, long enough for Orsin to creak an eye open pensively. Xavis shot him an apologetic look, complete with smile, and got back to work. "There's another aspect to it, to. A weirdly intellectual aspect. I don't know if I can put it into words." "Yeah?" Orsin grunted, barely parting his lips to do so. He was just about fully erect now, and his penis hung over the lip of the sofa and cast a shadow on the wooden floor beneath. "Yeah. Bear with me if this doesn't make sense at first." Watching his partner's crotch, Xavis leaned in and kissed the center pad. He felt the big guy's toes wriggle appreciatively against his chin and cheek before pulling back. "How much do you weigh, Orsin?" "Uh... I dunno," he grunted, visibly confused by the reply. Xavis shrugged, pushing his fingers back in. "You're a big charr, so let's just say six hundred pounds. Let's say you're lugging around a hundred twenty pounds of metal armor, a sword and a shield weighing, mm, maybe twenty? Throw on a pack and we'll round to eight hundred pounds. With me so far?" "Uh huh," Orsin grumbled, frowning. He was probably wishing the little charr had saved the complicated math stuff for when his brain had the blood to spare. "Eight hundred pounds. Almost half a ton, all carried by... what? Four toes here." Xavis pricked each toe once, causing a twitch with each tap. "Four toes here." He stretched his right arm out, repeating the process for the second foot. "And these little pads, hardly bigger than my hand." One hand on each foot, he began to poke just above the midfoot. "Pads which are smooth, and squishy, and soft, and..." Almost as though on queue, Orsin let off a little rumbling snigger. Both feet shifted and started to pull back. "Hreh heh... Hey, that tickles." "Sensitive," Xavis completed, grinning widely at the timing. He went back to more agreeable rubbing, focusing on one foot at a time now, but bouncing from one to the other every ten seconds. "I'm no biologist, but isn't it hard to believe that such an incredible weight can be carried for hours on end by such a small, susceptible area? Isn't something so powerful, and yet so vulnerable, just fascinating? And doesn't that which is fascinating deserve to be revered?" Orsin let out a quiet groan, and his hips shifted as he squirmed very slightly in the couch. Xavis wasn't sure if it was his words or his attentive hands, but he had touched some sort of emotional nerve. "They... they teach you that in fahrar training, or, or something?" Xavis chuckled, finally leaving those big tender paws behind. He started to crawl forward, making his way toward the sitting behemoth. "Nah. I know I'm just being poetic, to put it nicely. Corny, if you prefer. I like overthinking things. The long and short of it is," he said, putting his chin down on Orsin's lap, muzzle an inch from his sheath, and looking up into his eyes. "As long as you're into it, so am I." Orsin stirred a little more. He was already starting to breath harder. He brought one massive paw down to cup the side of Xavis's head. "I'm into it. It calmed me down, awright." "Good. I don't want you to be angry. There's enough of that in the Citadel as is." Here, Xavis turned his eyes to that long pink shaft near his mouth. His tail flicker-flicked behind him. "Are you sure it calmed you down? You seem pretty stirred up to me." Orsin grinned toothily. Xavis didn't look up to his face, but he knew, he just knew, the hunter was getting red again. "I can't help it. You press my buttons like I'm a... huh... a... a... hunnnnghhhh..." His words drifted off into bestial noises as Xavis wrapped his muzzle around the hunter's cock and took him full into his mouth. Orsin parted his thighs, and Xavis took advantage, shuffling in closer. Still on his knees, Xavis curled his fingers beneath the charr's orange-furred scrotum, carressing him. He began to bob, up and down, lips pressed, tongue licking, head turning to coat every inch of the big guy's shaft he could find. "Unn..." Orsin was pulsing steadily within the Ash's mouth. He could feel his tip leaking as his head slid along Xavis's wet, slightly scratchy tongue, coating as it went. His paw was still on the side of Xavis's head, but he didn't pull or force, letting the mesmer do nearly all the work. That job seemed to suit him just fine. With a loud sucking noise, Xavis withdrew from Orsin's penis. Bubbly strands of drool and pre kept them connected until the mesmer wiped his muzzle with the back of his paw and set his back straight. "Lie down," he told Orsin. When the orange charr only blinked, not immediately complying, Xavis picked himself up off of his knees only just long enough to bring his body forward. He connected his muzzle to Orsin's and kissed him fiercely, dazing the hunter. It threw him off-guard long enough for Xavis to topple the big guy, using both hands and one leg to effectively force him down onto the sofa against only a token protest. Orsin was puffing for air now, and he blinked again, looking up at Xavis with anticipation and curiosity. His brown eyes followed the little charr as Xavis took a moment to shuffle his way out of his pants and toss them aside. He was hard as stone, but seemed to pay no consideraton toward his own shaft, nor did he even orient his body to allow Orsin a good look. He had other plans in mind. "Remember what we talked about?" Xavis asked. He was on Orsin's left side now, and he stroked his own left fingers along the charr's soft, creamy-white belly. His right arm grazed past Orsin's sheath, and he wrapped his fingers around the other's ballsack. "I, I'm not sure," the bigger male rumbled uncertainly. Xavis nodded. He brought his right arm back just long enough to stick two of his fingers into his mouth, tasting Orsin's salty, musky scent. He wet those two fingers up, then returned to fondling his partner's scrotum. "I'm going to do something that's going to feel a little weird at first, but it should feel good really soon. If it gets really uncomfortable, or if it hurts at all, tell me and I'll stop. But if it's only a little uncomfortable, just see if you can hold on for a little bit, okay?" "Okay," Orsin rumbled, though there was a hint of worry in his eyes. He looked down his own body, craning his neck to look around his erection to peer at the fingers just beyond. He couldn't see them, but, as Xavis brought his fingers down and pressed them against the side of Orsin's tailhole, he could feel them. "Nnph--" "Easy, easy," Xavis murmured, massaging the pucker between the orange charr's cheeks. He rested the fingers of his left hand on the other charr's ballsack, then started to gently pull it away from his stroking right fingers, exposing his rump."Just try to relax." Orsin's first exhale was ragged, and he swallowed audibly. He stretched his legs apart, putting his left foot over the edge of the couch. His second felt less forced as he became accustomed to being touched in this new place. Once he had worked Orsin's tailhole sufficiently, Xavis was just about ready to dive in. He used his left hand to give the hunter's shaft a gentle encouraging squeeze. Then he slid his right index and middle fingers a half-inch inside the big guy. Despite his size, Orsin felt tight very tight, and even moreso as he clenched his buttocks and gave a little whimper. Xavis fought for another half-inch, then began to slowly tweak his fingers around in cautious exploration. The big charr twitched again, and his teeth clamped shut. He grunted, looking down with a sort of grimace that bordered on terror. The mesmer began to gently pet him again. He didn't stop massaging that first inch of the big guy's tailhole, but he did ask, "Are you okay? Does it hurt?" Orsin's toothy expression didn't change, but he nodded, then shook his head. He was stiff as a board, and not just around his genitals. His body looked paralyzed. "It's, it's just so diff, hphhhh, different. I don't know how it's supposed to feel, hph, I can't, I can't describe it." Xavis fought for another half-inch. He leaned forward and, making eye contact with the frozen charr, nuzzled the big guy's shaft. He kissed along its length, feeling Orsin throb between his lips heartily. "Does it feel good?" he asked as he pulled back. "Hpph... yeah, y-yeah, I think so." He squinted one eye and crinkled his nose, his tongue just barely visible between his sharp white teeth. "Are you at the, the, hpph, are you there yet?" Xavis fought the urge to laugh. He shook his head, then twisted his wrist, inserting his fingers deeper into Orsin's tailhole. His fingers clenched and wriggled then. "You'll know when I'm there. Lift your leg up." Orsin did, a little uncertainly, as Xavis withdrew his paw from the big guy's rump. The hunter let out a long sigh, taking a few moments to recover as the Ash rose slightly, taking Orsin's left leg by the ankle and propping it up on the seat of the couch. The big charr's buttocks were spread as far as the comparatively tiny sofa would allow now. His ballsack sagged comfortably between his thighs now. He looked up at Xavis, less stunned but more transfixed, and ready for a second round. He's got no idea what's coming. Xavis brought down hands down onto Orsin's inner thighs, pushing him apart. A confused grunt melded into a low thrumming groan of surprise as the Ash went down on him, sneaking his muzzle under the ballsack and sloppily kissing his pucker. Orsin's heavy furred scrotum rested on Xavis's nose as his tongue went to town, messily slurping and suckling at Orsin's entrance until the big guy was was rocking, thrusting, pushing his hips off the couch to allow Xavis deeper access between his thighs. "Unnnn -- whh -- whhhhah, hnnnnngh--" Orsin sounded almost dazed, bewildered and overwhelmed by the shocking sensation down below. He stared down at his own dribbling, bouncing cock with a stupidifed wonder, his tongue lulling out of his mouth, surrendering himself to the little charr's knowing tongue. Xavis was over too soon. He pulled himself up from between Orsin's legs, wiping his muzzle and grinning like a loon. "Shoulda done that first," he told Orsin almost too casually, smirking at the petrified expression on the stunned charr's face. "Loosened you up. Are you ready?" Orsin swallowed, puffed, swallowed again. He looked like he wasn't comprehending. "Good enough." Xavis assumed his original position, kneeling beside the white-striped charr's muscular body. He set the palm of his left hand down upon Orsin's shaft, garnerning an enthused reaction from the aroused charr. Then he put his paw down between the big guy's thighs, stroked the base of his tail, lifted, and inserted two fingers in all the way up to the first joints, and the reaction tripled. Orsin's hips thrashed upward, and he let out an almost pained cry, his brown eyes widening for just a moment before squeezing tightly shut. His insides churned, drawing Xavis's fingers in deeper, an eagerness to which the mesmer complied. The Ash had wrapped his left paw around the hunter's shaft and was jerking him, but not hard. Orsin was pounding upward so hard that he was doing most of the work. Xavis stuck out his tongue and bit down on it gently, his brow furrowing. He was taking a guess based on Orsin's size, but if he was right, if he pushed just a little further and then pressed down right-- "Hohhh! Hoh, hunnnn, hnnnnnnnnnnnnggghh, rrrrrggggh, burn me!" Orsin cried out, slobber flying from his maw as he rammed his hips toward the ceiling, nearing picking Xavis up off his knees with the force. The Ash grinned. He squeezed his fist tighter, pounding it along the orange charr's shaft. His right fingers rubbed hard against that internal sweet spot, driving the bigger male full force toward his impending climax. He had been stirred up ever since that foot rub, and now, being milked by the mesmer's dexterious paws, he knew Orsin couldn't-- "Nnn, nnnhhh!" the hunter half-moaned half-whimpered, his face tense with exertion. His claws scraped along the sofa as his body tensed up, his dick pulsing to full throb in Xavis's grasp. The smaller male, realizing Orsin had crossed his threshold, twisted his right arm sharply and rubbed the hunter's prostate as intently as he could. Orsin thrust his hips to full lock, teeth grit as he growled up a storm to usher in the first blast of his climax. One squinting eye opened just in time to get a splash of hot whiteness to the face, and he yowled in surprise, thrusting his head back. He groaned louder as Xavis churned waves of cum from his cocktip, each of the mesmer's paws twisting, thumping, pushing, pulsing, driving the orange charr to deeper recesses of pleasure. Semen splattered against the side of the sofa and along Xavis's fingers, but most of the rich white goo fell in thick pools along the hunter's furry white chest. Xavis ground against him, milking every last drop he could coax. When he was sure the hunter had trickled his last, he let go, both paws at once, releasing Orsin from his grasp and pulling his arm out from between his legs. Orsin kept his thighs locked until Xavis had removed himself, and then his whole body sagged into the sofa. He has that same open-mouthed, exasperated expression Xavis had come to appreciate, and the slender charr pushed himself up onto the hunter's bulk. He nestled into the groove between charr and couch, avoiding most but not all of the white mess on Orsin's chest. They kissed two, three times, before Orsin pulled back. He was still breathing hard, and he swallowed, looking down Xavis's body. The Ash followed his gaze, until both charr were staring at the Ash's full unattended erection nestled between them. "What about..?" "Give it a few minutes," Xavis assured him. He lifted his eyes to Orsin's mane, and he began to stroke the hunter's hair between his horns. "We'll go for round two once you're ready." Orsin snorted, and it grew to a chuckle. He stole a peek at his member, which was already starting the lumberous retreat into his sheath. "Round two," he muttered, shaking his head. "Scorch, Xavis. Scorch." "Hmmmm..?" Orsin's teeth showed in a quick flash. He let out a contented sigh, then wrapped his arm around Xavis's body. He pinned him against his chest, smearing the fruits of their labor between their bodies -- the fluid had already gone cold and tacky, and Xavis tried not to let his face show protest -- then looked up toward the ceiling. "You know," he started slowly. "I only, uh, you know. I only had sex a handful of times in my life." "Right," Xavis replied, listening attentively. "Mostly by your own choice." "Uh huh," Orsin agreed. He gave Xavis's gray-spotted back a gentle scritch. "And it's not like I, like I made up for it elsewhere, you know." "Hmmm?" Xavis prompted. He managed to suppress a grin, affecting genuine confusion, though in truth he knew exactly what the hunter meant. He just wanted to see Orsin blush, and he did, right on queue. "I mean, I don't... I didn't... I mean, I just didn't masturbate a lot. I guess. Maybe once a week. A little more when I was younger. But not much." Xavis put his head down on Orsin's shoulder, looking up at him silently. "Sex just isn't something I ever really found all that interesting." A moment's pause, and his eyebrows lifted. "Wasn't," he corrected himself, and he grinned until Xavis couldn't help but return it. "I just, I just never would have thought of myself as a, a 'round two' sort of guy. I'm just, I'm just so lucky that you, that I, that I found somebody who can, who can do that to me. You've got me... gotten me there more times since I met you than, than..." He trailed off, but Xavis spoke before the silent could hang in the air. "You're lucky, Orsin. But I think I'm the luckier one." Now it was Orsin's turn to make a curious noise, this one genuine. "Hrrrrrrm..?" Xavis put his head back down. Orsin was deep in his afterglow, but Xavis was still randy as a buck. He could indulge himself a bit. "I like that you're inexperienced." Xavis lowered his head. He reached out with his left hand, finding a dry-ish spot on Orsin's chest and rubbing him soothingly. "I like being able to do these things for you that nobody ever has. I like teaching you. I'd say it's..." He lifted his shoulders. "I'd say it's cute, but that's not right, because I don't like cute things." "That's not fair," Orsin said, with such an exaggerated pout that he couldn't keep himself from smiling. "You like yourself, don't you?" Xavis groaned, and his stroking paw opened as he slapped the hunter's chest lightly. "Spare me. I can be cheesy to you, but it's a one way street, pal." Orsin sniggered quietly, and Xavis could feel his chest rumbling beneath his palm. "Honestly, I don't have the right word. You're not innocent, you kill animals for a living. You're not naive, I mean, you get how the world works. You're not childish. You're just bashful." Orsin opened his mouth, fumbled for a protest, and snapped it shut, cheeks reddening. Xavis gave him a 'see?' sort of look, flustering the big guy even more. "That's... hey..." he started, but Xavis interrupted to shush him. "I like it, Orsin. I want you to stay bashful. I want you to stay sweet. Even if we go at it a thousand times, even if I teach you everything I know about sex, I still want you to be curious, willing, but a little reserved. I hope you're shy for the rest of your life." Orsin bit down on his lower lip. He was trying to keep from smiling, or maybe crying. His shoulders lifted. His voice was quiet and a little shaky, and there was a sudden, unexpected note of sadness deep in his tone that caused the pit in Xavis's stomach to churn. "Charr aren't s'posed to be shy, Xavis," he murmured. "Should be brave, and tough. Not nervous about the, the simplest things. Ain't I, ain't I kind of embarrassing to you?" Xavis's voice rose to a near bark. "To hell with that!" His own surprised reaction caused him to only get louder. "You can't scorching believe that for a cogs-damned second, Orsin." He had pushed himself back against Orsin's arm, picking himself up and staring furiously into his eyes. "I don't give a skritt's asshole what charr are 'supposed' to be! It doesn't matter anyway, because you are brave. You know how many tufttails wouldn't be willing to try a single new thing? You know how many charr fuck each other like they're just going through the motions? You know how many of these 'brave tough' soldiers would sooner curl up and cry like a cub than dare to do something like we just did? Huh? You know how many charr would starve to death in the first season out in this wintery hellhole? Huh?" Xavis was stradling Orsin in full now, towering over the wide-eyed hunter. He charged on recklessly, his tail lashing behind him. There was a fire in his gut and he had to put it out. "And by the scorchin' way, sex is not a simple thing, and anybody who thinks it is has got a simple mind. It is damn complicated for even the most well-adjusted among us, and let me tell you, most of the Citadel is not well-adjusted. You, Orsin, are responsible, you're healthy, you're scorchin' gorgeous to look at, you're hard-working, you're wise, and yeah, guess what? I saw you brave a tail-twisting blizzard to chop down a tree. You are brave, and you are tough. And if your one weakness is that you get a little blushy when somebody you have a thing for grabs your nutsack, then I'd say you got off pretty easy. And you know what? Maybe after what you've been through, you deserve to get off easy. But you don't deserve to get down on yourself for even a single scorching second for not having all the answers. You don't embarrass me one damn bit, and if you did, then I would be embarrassed at myself for my blindness." Xavis stared down at the charr below him, his eyes furrowed and menacing to Orsin's wide, astonished gaze. Both were breathing hard by this part, but the cabin was otherwise silent. A full thirty seconds passed. Then Orsin spoke, his cheeks still red as ripe tomatoes. "I haven't seen you get angry like that before, Xavis." Xavis looked down at the behemoth of a charr. He frowned, then shot back, "You're one to talk." But Orsin shook his head, and his brown eyes lowered, locking onto Xavis's penis. During his tirade, Xavis had shifted to stradle the hunter's chest, and his erection -- which had grown if anything over the course of his rant, a veritable rage boner -- stuck a mere two inches from Orsin's muzzle. The big guy looked up, and as he spoke, Xavis could feel the hot, wet breath bathe his cocktip. "I guess it's my turn to calm you down now." He smirked at Xavis's dubious expression. Then he pushed himself up into more of a sitting position, brought his head forward, and took the mesmer's tip into his mouth. Xavis looked down for a moment, not sure if this was what he really wanted. His uncertainty lasted about a second and a half. Then he felt Orsin's slobbering tongue slathering his head, felt the globules of warm spit trickling down his length, and he let out a long sigh. He reached out for Orsin's head, pulling him in. But Orsin resisted, pushing back fiercely against Xavis's hand. It seemed uncharacteristically defiant, and Xavis looked down. He didn't see opposition in Orsin's expression, but rather, careful, almost methodical concentration. He kept pulling his chops back around his teeth, craning his neck, trying to come at the mesmer's penis from a variety of angles. He was fighting against going any further because he wanted to be sure he could do so without accidentally hurting him with his teeth. Xavis let off another gentle sigh, but there was no exasperation. The big charr's inexperience really was endearing. He ran his fingers through Orsin's mane, and started to direct him. "Don't pull your lips back against your gums. Instead, try to wrap them around your teeth. Use your tongue as an extra shield. You're right to be wary, teeth and dicks don't mix, and compared to most races, charr have bigger of both." Orsin gave a nod, looking up for just an instant before staring back down at the shaft hovering before him. He brought his right arm around Xavis's thigh and wrapped his big meaty paw around the white sheath, holding the little charr still. He tried again, this time with more success; keeping his teeth veiled by the rim of his mouth, he was able to take a full quarter of Xavis's malehood in before pulling back out, looking up with triumph. Xavis chuckled, scritching his mane encouragingly. "Good. Try to work your tongue a little more. Get a feel for where your teeth are, and where you can position me around them." "Right," Orsin nodded. He opened his maw, paused, and asked, "I guess when it comes down to it, charr are probably better at, at taking orders in the bedroom than most races, huh?" Xavis chuckled. "I don't know. I've only ever been with charr. But I wouldn't be surprised. Following orders is baked into us at a young age." "Yeah," Orsin agreed. His paw squeezed around Xavis's sheath. "I like the way you give them. You don't sound bossy. Have you ever thought about being, being a Legionnaire?" He opened his maw wide, licked his chops, and went back down, determined to take Xavis in up to the halfway point this time. "Rrrrm... not really." Xavis's paw moved between Orsin's horns. He was fighting to keep his hips still, wanting the big charr to find his rhythm before another element was introduced. But it wasn't easy. He was already stirred up, and inexperienced or not, Orsin's tongue was slippery, wide, and warm. Xavis found the conversation a somewhat welcome distraction. "I'm a competent agent, but I don't think... mmph, that coordinating groups of soldiers is my forte. And I don't think my soldiers would respect me." Orsin had nearly worked his way down to the shaft, his nose hovering only inches from the mesmer's slender stomach. He pulled back to breath, tongue lolling, a thin strand of drool connecting him to that pink charr penis. He swallowed, looked up, and said, "You could hypnotize them." Xavis blanched for a second, and breathed in to pronounce a sharp rebuttal. But Orsin's grin was so wide before he opened back up and went down that Xavis realized the large charr was kidding, and he relaxed somewhat. He gave a low snort, then dared to push his hips forward gradually, inserting himself into Orsin's muzzle up to the hilt. "Yeah. Oh." Xavis turned his head slightly, looking down at Orsin. The big guy's brow was furrowed, and he was making strange puffing noises on the mesmer's shaft. Xavis realized what was going on at once. "Don't do that. Just lick and kiss. Nnnph... yeah, there you go. Just like that. I know they call it a blowjob, but you don't actually want to blow." Orsin grunted acknowledgement, and the sensation caused a little tremor of excitement that trickled up the mesmer's shaft and churned him just below his guts. The hunter's cold nose was rubbing below Xavis's belly button now as he took the smaller male in his entirity. His brown eyes squeezed shut, and his palm went flat against the mesmer's body as he continued to press the sheath between the bases of his thumb and forefinger. "Hypnosis," Xavis said at last. He was plunging slowly against Orsin now, encouragingly, still not going as hard or as fast as his groin compelled him. "Great idea. Make 'em do whatever I want. Run laps, scrub the engines, clean the lavatories, all without any complaints." A few moments passed, and Orsin pulled back again, puffing for breath. He smacked his chops a few times, expression bemused as he tasted Xavis's body on his tongue. He looked up into Xavis's eyes, shrugged one shoulder, and said, "For your quarterly reviews, you could make 'em, make 'em suck you off too, just like this!" Xavis made a single sharp bark of laughter. "Orsin!" he cried out, playfully bapping the orange charr between his horns. "Scorch, that's the most vulgar thing you've said to me." But he was grinning, and Orsin was too, and the hunter's cheeks were flushed and hot as the big charr rubbed the side of his muzzle affectionately against Xavis's tip. "So," Xavis rumbled. He could feel his meatus pulsing wet, and he somehow found it within himself to thicken even harder against Orsin's cheeks. "Now that you've had a taste of both, let me ask you something. What do you like more, giving or receiving?" Orsin stopped nuzzling. He looked up, confused, the erection pushing nosily against his face. He withdrew, looking up pensively. The question seemed to cause him some minor distress. "I dont', I don't know. Do I have to choose?" Xavis thought about that for a moment. An idea had come to mind. He wondered why he hadn't thought of it already. "Nope," he said, and started to move. Xavis used the back of the sofa to push himself up off Orsin's chest. He went up as high as he could go on his knees, his taint just barely touching the bigger charr's body. He dug his right foot into the crack made between body and sofa and pushed up, lifting himself up enough to plant the sole of his left foot on Orsin's chest. He extended his leg, forceably pushing the hunter down to the sofa as he pivoted on the balls of his foot, turning himself around. Orsin let out a small "Wha--" He blinked, peering as Xavis relaxed his leg's pressure on Orsin's chest and soon replaced it with his rump as he settled down. The hunter peered up at the base of Xavis's tail, and his cheeks went flush again as his gaze naturally lowered to the tight pink pucker between the smaller charr's spotted cheeks and the first hints of a white scrotum smushed beneath. The mesmer was now sitting on his chest, facing away. Xavis didn't have time to spare; the Ash didn't know how much longer he was going to last, and he needed to get to work on Orsin quickly if the bigger charr was to catch up. He descended, chest sliding against belly as Xavis moved his right hand beneath Orsin's left leg, curling it around until he could feel the hunter's balls resting on his palm. The fingers of his left hand wrapped around the hunter's sheath, and he squeezed it, helping to guide Orsin's erection into his maw. Residual seed from the previous orgasm still clung to Orsin's tip, and Xavis delicately slurped and swallowed it as he coaxed the big charr's erection deeper into his mouth. His teeth were smaller, so even considering Orsin's comparatively thicker pole, he was able to take the hunter in three-quarters of the way on his first descent. He could feel the big charr grunt and squirm beneath him, and his hips involuntarily bucked to slide himself in that final couple inches. Once Xavis had Orsin's dick in up to the hilt, he took a few moments to orient himself. Gradually, so as to let Orsin catch on, he hefted his rump up and stuck it out, dragging his genitals closer to the hunter's maw. Xavis stretched his body as far as it would go, but he found himself wondering if this would be possible. Was their size difference too great? Was Orsin simply too big to 69? Xavis's worries melted away as Orsin finally realized what was expected of him, and had taken to the task with gusto. He kissed and licked and nuzzled against Xavis's shaft, his chops moving to reach for that dribbling tip. Xavis wriggled his butt, pushing it against the back of the sofa and locking his hips. This would have been an uncomfortable position for a less flexible charr, but the Ash managed it easily enough. Orsin took immediate advantage, tilting his muzzle and taking the mesmer into the warmth of his mouth. Now that each was inside the other, Xavis closed his eyes, focusing on driving Orsin full-speed toward his climax. The little Ash could feel his arousal churning in his gut, and as he shifted his hips, he could feel his shaft sliding along the hunter's curious tongue. Orsin's own climax had been so recent that Xavis could smell the residue every time he breathed in. But the orange charr was still rowdy enough, and it wasn't long before he could feel and taste the beads of precum dripping against the back of his throat. Orsin couldn't keep quiet. This new angle was causing some minor problems for him, and he played it cautious, focusing as much as he could to avoid letting his teeth touch his partner's shaft. Being on bottom, he also couldn't take control and orient his muzzle in the exact way he wanted to. But he was rumbling up a storm, no doubt motivated by his own carnal pleasure, and his maw made pleasant thrumming sensations all along Xavis's penis that worked like a shockwave deeper into his gut. It felt scorching great, and Xavis found himself giving a low, reverberating moan into Orsin's own staff to return the favor. Their chests were warm, soft fur rubbing on fur as they continued to please each other. Sometimes, Xavis's tail would stop shaking long enough to fall into Orsin's face, and the big guy would whack the tuft away with a little indignant snort. Around the third time this happened, he realized that the mesmer was doing it on purpose, and his snickers resonated along the small male's shaft. Xavis had withdrawn slightly up Orsin's shaft, but this was only to allow his left hand to join in. The fingers that had wrapped around the bigger charr's sheath were now pumping him off, and his tongue focused around the head. His right paw still kneaded the other's scrotum, and occasionally he even dared to poke at that previously explored tailhole, just a little tease. Xavis knew he had won the race when Orsin had to pull out from his own task and let out a loud, eager groan. He kissed the underside of Xavis's dick until he needed to grimace, to clench his teeth tight and breathe. He let out deep, masculine groans as he gave himself up to the mesmer, bringing his arms up and wrapping them around his lower back. He could do little more than nuzzle against the lighter-furred charr's ballsack as he found himself pushed over the edge. He came almost suddenly, without so much as a warning growl, and Xavis hurried to pull his tongue around to Orsin's underside to catch the first blasts. Orsin thrust his hips and squeezed his eyes shut, groaning now against scrotum resting on his face. He splattered all along Xavis's tongue and sprayed the back of his throat in a series of short bursts. Xavis's fingers were still wrapped around the hunter's sheath, and he could feel each pulse of seminal fluid rush up his length before it splashed inside him. Orsin let out a loud sigh, muffled by Xavis's pubic fur, as he felt himself trickling his last. The climax had been maybe a third as messy as his last one, and Xavis had diligently caught and swallowed every drop, but he still felt drained. He creaked an eye open and saw Xavis's tight buttocks, his thighs extended backwards, and he realized he had to hurry before the waves of afterglow-induced exhaustion overtook him. Orsin brought his right arm around from Xavis's backside and slid it between their chests. He wrapped his oversized paw around the mesmer's length. He could nearly envelop the entire erection within his palm, and only the Ash's trickling pink tip peeped around from the end. He gripped tight and began to pump Xavis off in an almost furious manner. Xavis grunted, and he pushed Orsin's penis to the side of his mouth so he could partially grit his teeth. He wanted to ask the big guy to soften it up and slow down, but he was so close to his own climax that he decided to roll with it. He withdrew from Orsin's shaft, but kissed it encouragingly, slurping up each last little droplet of seed that still cling to his head. As Xavis felt himself cross the threshold, he lowered his head, resting the side of his muzzle against Orsin's scrotum. He closed his eyes and pushed his lower back, letting off a soft, almost whimper-like cry as he felt himself start to cum. He pulsed, thickened, and let out a rush of milky cum that slathered between their chests. He stiffened, arched his back some more, and burst again, feeling himself throb against the charr's tight grip, hearing the gentle splatter of white between their bodies. Then he stopped concentrating, and just let himself coast along through the rest of the orgasm, his whole body tingling with warmth and excitement. Orsin released his grip only to rub his palm along Xavis's cockhead, feeling the last of his climax. When he felt satisfied that the mesmer had blown his last, he reached up, grabbing the Ash by his midsection. He pulled back, bringing the smaller charr down against his body, chest against back, heads only a few inches upon. Xavis was still recovering, and he had a bleary-eyed expression as he blinked, giving Orsin a look. The big guy bumped his head forward and kissed his nose. Xavis could smell his own spunk on the other charr's breath, but he was still so aroused that it somehow intrigued him. He returned the favor, kissing Orsin along the bridge of his muzzle, and he had to giggled slightly as Orsin wriggled his nose as the masculine odor. Apparently, he wasn't quite as taken with the smell, and his tongue came out in a look of mild disgust. "It's an acquired scent," Xavis murmured sleepily. The fire still burned merrily just a few feet away, and they felt so warm and so cozy together. Xavis wasn't traditionally much of a bonk-and-conk sort of charr, but he felt himself drifting off nevertheless. "Right," Orsin rumbled. He smacked his lips a couple times, then brought his drenched paw up to his mouth. He gave that a couple sniffs, then a tentative lick. He looked almost pensive now. "How long did it, it take for you to get used to it?" But Xavis didn't feel like talking. He shifted his weight atop the brute of a charr, nestling up sleepily against him. He tucked his muzzle beneath the other's chin and curled his arms up under his own body, seeking warmth from the bigger male. Orsin got the hint. He wiped some of the products of their session off on the side of the couch, then wrapped both arms around Xavis, holding him close as though to carry him off into slumber. Xavis, who wasn't a heavy sleeper during the best of times, was out within the minute, his quiet breathing making little growls against the hunter's chest. Orsin was silent for what felt like a very long time. The flames crackled, the Ash breathed, the wind howled, but the cabin still felt very quiet. He could feel Xavis rise and fall as he made his own breaths. He squeezed him a little tighter, his voice pensive, and a little sad. "I'm gonna miss you," he told the sleeping form. "So scorching much, I'll miss you." He let off a quiet sigh, then closed his eyes, pressing his muzzle against the side of the couch. Sleep came slower for him. But eventually, it came, and the two dozed for hours as the blizzard raged on, blinding and furious, in the world outside their little cabin.

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Fourteen

It seems like yesterday I think about how much I Wish that you were Here with me now

Two weeks went by in a blur. A slow blur, but a blur nonetheless. Xavis had lost track of the days, and given how short the daylight hours could be, he was positive he had slept through bouts of daylight at least twice. But Orsin somehow managed to keep track, and he celebrated the two week anniversary of their meeting by making his specialty, a spicy gumbo-like mixture of fish, sausage, and dolyak steak over the last of the potatoes, mashed. He didn't call it an anniversary meal, and for that Xavis was grateful, but it was surprisingly good, and the little mesmer went back for seconds. Orsin, naturally, had fourths. The two weeks had moments of difficulty for Xavis, but it was altogether not the challenge he had expected. Sometimes he would get quiet and pensive as the guilt piled on too heavy to bear, and he would look out the window wistfully. He talked occasionally about his work, and reflected on what the Order was up to. He wondered who was taking over for him while he was gone. A couple times, when his guilt got too great to hold in, he asked Orsin to stay in the living room as he himself went into Orsin's room. He would curl up on the bed, and sometimes he would pound his fist against pillows, sometimes he would cry, sometimes he would stare up at the ceiling, as the feeling of helplessness swallowed him whole. But most of the time, he was fine. There wasn't much to do in the cabin, but he stayed busy. The cabin was looking better than it ever had. He had swept, mopped, scrubbed, and dusted the entire place. Orsin offered to help, and Xavis would sometimes give him chores, but mostly the mesmer handled it by himself. He liked the feeling of productivity, and in a way, having Orsin help would give him less to do. He had to stretch these chores out to last the whole season. Naturally, he and Orsin bumped bodies several times a night. The big guy rarely initiated the process, but he seemed always eager to Xavis's propositions. They hadn't slowed down in frequency. The lack of other things to do surely contributed to the frequency of their lovemaking, he couldn't deny that, but he still found himself appreciating the hunter's company on its own merit. He had no doubt Orsin felt the same, and perhaps even moreso. They hadn't fought since that night in the kitchen. Sometimes, when he got into one of his angry moods, Xavis would probe for a conflict. He would tell Orsin to clean the kitchen better after making a meal, or to not leave his woodcarving scraps on the ground without sweeping them up, or to cover his mouth better when he sneezed. They were little things, but charr were charr, and little things were often catalysts for big fights in charr communities. But Orsin never rise to an argument. He would consider Xavis's words, realize he was right, and comply. And what's more, he always heeded the complaints in the future. When Xavis asked him to do a better job folding the towels, Orsin did need to be shown how to do it the right way, but once he was taught, he did it right every time. When Xavis grumbled that Orsin didn't ever make his side of the bed, the big guy took a couple extra minutes every morning carefully tucking everything in. Xavis had grown up assuming that charr just need to fight sometimes to let off steam. It's in their blood. They need to roughhouse or get into barfights, or enter competitions in the Bane just to stay sane. It was the way they were built. Before coming to the Shiverpeaks, he would have unquestioningly said that having a relationship with a partner who didn't argue and seemed to never get riled up would get real old, real fast. No charr would want to live with a total pushover. He wasn't sure on that anymore. He didn't want to fight Orsin, even if sometimes he thought he did. He found himself appreciating that the big guy took orders not only in the bedroom, but in the day to day routine. And what's more, it didn't feel like pandering, that he was just trying to butter the mesmer up, or was overeager to satisfy him. Orsin took each and every piece of advice Xavis gave, carefully weighed it over, and realized it was a better way to proceed than the way he had been doing it before. He never took offense to the complaints, but always took them to heart. It was a good relationship, but Xavis could not help but brace himself for the cracks. There was a reason charr have a hard time forming long partnerships, and he wondered which of Orsin's habits he found endearing now would chafe by the end of the long Colossus season. It didn't matter, in any case. A few more weeks and he would be home. Back to the grind. Back to the real world. Back to... Back to the prison that was reality. He wondered sometimes how, in this cramped little cabin in the middle of nowhere, unable to so much as pull up the window without risking his life, he felt more free than he ever had.

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Fifteen

I don't understand The way that I feel I am terrified Of being wrong

The night was dark, but the living room was full of light with the first logs of the day roasting in the fireplace. Xavis was sprawled on the sofa, leaned back, reading through his third book since the blizzard started. He was currently tackling The Girl from the Sea. It wasn't his favorite -- he found himself sympathizing with the main character's father far too much, and found the protagonist to be much too eager to get herself in trouble -- but it was a way to pass the time and keep his mind from getting too dull. Every so often, he would lower the book and steal a glance at Orsin in the corner. The big charr was doing his daily exercise ritual. He was currently on the third phase, and Xavis could hear him counting his pushups under his breath. Xavis could see his thick muscular arms pulling taught and he lowered himself to the floor, grunted his count, and re-locked his elbows. He would do sit-ups too, and squats, which were Xavis's favorite to watch. Once he had finished, Orsin took a moment to breath on his knees. Then he pulled himself up to his feet with one final grunt and a loud "phew!". He wiped his brow, then thumped for the fridge to get himself something to drink. His scent filled the cabin, a familiar and increasingly comfortable smell. Since exercise often got Orsin in the mood, it also meant something was likely to happen soon. With the makings of a grin, Xavis dogeared the page, closed the hardcover book, and set it on the table. "Want to come sit by me?" Glug glug glug. Orsin let out a loud refreshed gasp as he lowered the pitcher of water, having drank straight out of it. He turned toward the couch and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Sure. I'll be right there." Xavis pulled himself up and peered over the back of the couch. Orsin was shirtless for the moment -- now that he and Xavis had reached a level of comfort, and had firewood to spare, he didn't often throw on a shirt these days -- but his leather pants were secured tightly to his waist. The Ash indulged in the sight, and the big guy flashed him a smile as he rounded the couch and thumped down beside him. The sofa gave its classic groan of indignation as Orsin settled in, putting his bare feet up on the table and sinking back against the backrest. "How's the book?" "It's all right," Xavis replied with a shrug, passing a glance over the aquamarine cover. "Won't be as good to read out loud. I don't think I could do a mermaid voice justice, not for long. We'll do the one set in Elona next." Orsin flashed a wide grin, and Xavis could feel the couch shift slightly. He realized the big guy's tail was trying to wag. "Yeah? Scorch, I can't wait. Can we start it tonight?" "Sure," Xavis said. Orsin's grin was infectuous, and he found himself returning it. He nestled up to the hunter, setting his head down upon his arms. He was still a bit sweaty, but the fur absorbed most of it. He thought he might offer to read to the big guy as he took a bath, as he had the previous week. "You know, I noticed something last night." "And what was that?" Orsin asked. His legs were crossed, and the faintest outline of his bulge could be seen against the leathers of his crotch. "You like to grin a lot, but you never smile when we're going at it. Not after we stop talking, at least." Orsin opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. His expression became pensive. He looked down at the little mesmer as he leaned back, putting his arms along the backrest and drawing his white-furred chest taut. "Should, should I?" Xavis shook his head. "Nah. It's not a bad thing. Hell, I love the way you look when you're about to climax. You have this, this look..." As Orsin watched with a sort of embarrassed interest, Xavis pulled his chops back to reveal a sneering grimace. He squinted and puckered his nose, squeezing one eye shut and letting the other hang barely open. He thought it was a good impression, but Orsin barked laughter. He shook his head, cheeks flushing red. "Scorch, I really, I really look like that?" he snickered. "Hell, burn me, you look like you smell something rotten." Xavis lightly thwacked the hunter's chest, but he was smirking all the same. "It's hotter when you do it. You always seem to get really into it. I just think it's funny, because you smile so much normally, but not during sex." "Well, a grimace is, it's kind of a smile, isn't it?" "Kind of," Xavis conceded, voice dubious. Orsin rolled his shoulders. He was smiling again, but a little more subdued than usual. He looked out and watched the flames flicker and dance beyond his crossed feet. Xavis noticed he was thinking about something, but he held his silence for a few moments, letting the bigger charr organize his thoughts until he felt comfortable speaking. "You know what my warband name was, back in the day?" When Xavis shook his head, Orsin continued. "Keentooth. Orsin Keentooth, of Keen Warband. Like a knife, you know? I was a happy cub even back then, I guess. My, uh..." Orsin felt himself grinning again, and he looked down at Xavis, who was snuggling against the orange charr and looking up with unveiled interest. "My Primus actually gave me a special task. You know how, how different cubs are assigned different duties? She told me to be in charge of the dental hygiene of the warband. So every morning I'd, I'd make sure everybody brushed, and once a week I'd make us all floss too." "That sounds important. I bet the other cubs hated it." "Some did," Orsin agreed with a nod. "But, but I think it was important even then. And it would be even more now, now that, now that there's the ceasefire. I think the humans are, they're starting to see how civilized we are. That was a few years ago, right?" "1324. About six years ago. It's been..." Xavis considered that for a moment, then pursed his lips. "I guess I'd say, it's worked better than we thought it would." "We being the charr?" Orsin asked. Xavis snorted. "We being the Order of Whispers, but, yes, for the charr too. Charr are being accepted into the Seraphs these days, and the humans have helped push the Flame Legion back in Ascalon. Our economies are better too, both of them -- at least parts are. The trade has been good. Kryta and Ascalon are so ecologically different, there's a reason merchants were some of the biggest proponents--" He saw Orsin's confused look, and correct himself. "Supports of the ceasefire. There's talk of making it permanent. It's been the right thing to do." Orsin grinned at that. His relief seemed genuine, and he lowered his left hand to wrap it around Xavis's side. "That's good. I never did hate the humans as much as they wanted us to." "That doesn't surprise me in the least," the mesmer replied dryly, and Orsin couldn't help but laugh. Xavis broke into a grin in reply, and leaned his head back down on the other's chest. "I can't guess you saw a lot of charr before they set up the asura gates. I wouldn't be surprised if you forgot what we looked like." Orsin snorted, shaking his head like a bull. "I have a mirror," he replied. "But, well, I didn't see many, an' I only talked to, scorch, maybe one a year. The norn are easier to talk to anyway. They like to laugh and, and smile more, you know." Xavis nestled in even closer. He reached out with his left hand and placed it on the center of his breast. His voice dropped a little. "You ever think about hooking up with one of them?" Orsin's grin was wide, but a little sheepish. He shook his head, gave Xavis's dubious expression a look, and shook it even harder. "Nuh uh. I like norn, but they never, I don't know, they never gave me that, that spark, I guess." "Mmmmh." Xavis watched his fingers leisurely descend through the soft creamy fur of Orsin's chest. His belly was one of Xavis's favorite parts. He liked the bulge of his stomach, and the way that his normally coarse fur seemed to get fluffier the more white it got. "So what did you think about, then?" "Hmmm..?" Orsin had stretched his body back, pulling his tummy just a little more taut for Xavis's touch. "What do you mean?" "What I mean is, you spent ten years alone, and you've already told me you, you know, that you'd masturbate at least once a week. You have a fantasy, right? What did you think about?" Xavis knew when to expect Orsin to blush now, and he called it when the big charr's cheeks went bright as berries. He let out a little nervous laughter, and Xavis increased the pressure of his palm to try and soothe the big beast. Orsin gave him a crooked smile, and said, "It's, it's a little, I don't know. It's embarrassing." Xavis couldn't help but grin. "I want to hear it." Orsin chewed on his lower lip. "If you go first, I'll follow." Xavis crinkled his nose, considering a protest, but decided to relent. "All right. You want to hear it?" He pulled himself up into a more upright position, though he kept his hand upon Orsin's stomach. He cleared his throat quietly, and spoke. "In my wildest fantasy, I've got a dozen charr all doing my bidding. They're all under my hypnotic spell, but I don't have to actually focus on keeping the spell working. They're all dedicated to worshiping me like one of the Six. My permanent slaves." He rub, rub, rubbed Orsin's belly. "Most of them are huge, buff males, but there are a few smaller ones, so I can watch them go at it whenever I want, and they... Orsin?" The bigger charr had an expression of disbelief. He was looking down into Xavis's face in what looked like horror. He swallowed when he realized Xavis was looking up, and tried to play it cool. "Oh, that's, that's, that's good. That's nice. That's -- that's good." The Ash lifted an eyebrow. He put on a smile, though he seemed perplexed. "What's wrong? It's just a fantasy." "Y, yeah, yeah, but... scorch, don't you feel sorry for them?" Orsin's shoulders had lifted. "Just, just having these mindless slaves, isn't that kind of scary? They, they can't say no, can they?" Xavis snickered, putting his head back down. "It's a fantasy, Orsin. It's not real. If somebody came to me and offered to put me in that exact position, I'd turn it down. Of course I don't want to permanently enslave anybody. Really, it's not even possible to hypnotize a dozen guys, surely not on a permanent level, and even if it was, it would take so much concentration that you'd never be able to get a boner. Scorch, and it would mess up a charr's brain chemistry so bad, keeping them under permanent control." He chuckled, a little dryly. "I don't want to deal with the moral applications. But if it's just, you know, something you think about while cranking one out, it's fine -- it's normal to have a weird fantasy. Isn't yours a little weird too?" He prodded the big guy's tummy. Orsin still seemed very apprehensive. He looked forward, kneading his lower lip anxiously. His shoulders were still raised, and Xavis stopped scritching his stomach, sensing the charr was deeply uncomfortable. "Hey," the Ash said. "Hey, I'm sorry if I crossed a line. If it really is--" "Oh, no, nuh uh," Orsin replied, shaking his head and turning back. "I, I get it. I knew, I knew one of my bandmates who had this, this, thought about eating a skritt, alive, and having the skritt stay alive in his stomach, and that really..." He shook his head. "I didn't get it, but, I mean, I know what you're saying. Fantasies aren't reality." "Right," Xavis confirmed, inwardly relieved. "So don't be embarrassed. You can tell me yours. I won't laugh at you. Do you like, I don't know, do you think about being inflated like a balloon? Do you want to wear a diaper? Orsin," Xavis added coyly, the corners of his mouth tugging into a helpless grin. "Do you like being spanked?" "No!" the big charr protested, shaking his head vigorously. He looked more red than orange at this point, and his body was so tense that Xavis suspected it was the only thing keeping the charr from bolting outright. "No, it's, it's, h-hell--" Xavis decided to ease off. He snuggled in close to the hunter, pressing the side of his muzzle against the charr's chest, hearing his heart beating with anxiety. He gave Orsin an appreciative hug. "You don't have to tell me. I was just curious. If it's personal, I--" "There's this place nearby." Orsin's eyes were on the fire, and Xavis could hear his heartbeat get erratic. "Maybe, maybe two miles, mostly uphill. It's near where I found you. It overlooks this ledge, and from it... from it, you can, can see all out over the valley. When it's, you know, when it's clear. You can see all five of the mountains that box this place in, and there are so many trees. You can see out as far as Ascalon sometimes, and the sunset, is, it's, it's..." Orsin trailed off, seeming to need to build his courage. Xavis brought his hand back to scritch the hunter's tummy. "It sounds nice," he said softly. "It's the prettiest... place I know. It's so lonely, but so peaceful, and you can see... scorch, you can see so much in Phoenix season." They were silent for nearly a full minute. Xavis closed his eyes, imagining the view. He had just formulated his own perfect picture when Orsin spoke again. His voice was low and rumbling, but there was the slight hint of a tremble. "I guess I, I think of that place, when I'd, when I'd..." "When you'd jerk off." "Uh huh," Orsin confirmed, then swallowed. "It's not that I'm, not that I'm turned on by mountains, Xavis, or, or trees. But I liked the thought of, of being there, of seeing the sunset, of being in such a beautiful place... and being able to, to, you know, to..." Xavis was getting the idea. "It's a little scary, right?" He lifted his head. "An animal could come by and catch you with your pants down. Or maybe some norn hikers. People must climb these mountains sometimes. You can see the whole valley, and it can see you." Orsin wet his lips, his brow furrowed. He seemed somehow interested. "I wouldn't ever do it, just, just because of those things, Xavis. I wouldn't be caught like that. Scorch, it would be so embarrassing to have some norn family come along and see me like that, with my hand around my, my." He cleared his throat. "Myself. So I've never done it." "But," Xavis said, putting the punctuation mark on the thought. "You liked to think about it. There's something a little bit thrilling about being out there in this beautiful land, all exposed and vulnerable for anybody to see you cranking one out. It's exciting, isn't it?" Orsin was breathing hard now, but Xavis could tell that much of his anxiety had left him. "When you put it like that, it, it makes sense. I think that's what it is. I couldn't put my finger on it. All this time. I thought I was, I was weird, that, that getting turned on by landscapes is, that it's too strange. But you make it sound normal, you make it make sense." "It is normal," Xavis told him, breathing in deep and nuzzling the side of his chest. He had expected something unbelievably raunchy. The other charr's big confession was ultimately pretty tame -- hardly even a fetish-- but characteristic, and somehow charming. Xavis didn't feel disappointed. "The closest term for it would be 'exhibitionism', I guess. In these dreams, does anybody happen to walk by? Do they join in?" Orsin swallowed, but nodded. "Sometimes, not, not always. I think usually it's, it's the thrill of knowing I could be seen. But, but, I do imagine somebody coming across me sometimes, and they do, um. They do join in." "I take it back about fantasies being unrealistic," Xavis murmured, bringing his paw a little lower. He held it below the charr's belly for just a moment, as though giving him a silent heads up, and then slid his palm down the leatherbound bulge. "If anybody saw you with your charrhood out, they wouldn't be able to resist helping you out." Orsin snickered bashfully, his shoulders raising even further. "That's not true," he rumbled, but he was stirring within his pants. Xavis could feel his paw rise as Orsin grew stiffer. He began to unbutton the charr's leggings unhurriedly. "So who wanders by in your thoughts, Orsin?" Xavis rumbled. "Do you imagine a norn, or a couple? Is it one of those bear men? The ko-men? "Kodan," Orsin whispered, his cheeks flush. His eyes were lowered, mouth slightly opened as he watched Xavis pull his hardening shaft out between the opening in his pants. "No, not, not them." "So another charr, then." Xavis's voice had lulled into a seductive growl. He leaned forward and gave Orsin's left nipple a gentle kiss. His paw stroked Orsin, letting him grow to full length. "Is he a big and burly gruff guy?" Orsin pushed his hips upward into Xavis's fist, letting out a quiet sigh as he stiffened. "Maybe," he rumbled, the corners of his mouth twitching. He gave Xavis a look. "What does he sound like?" Xavis's tail gave a little flicker. He dropped his voice an octave, affecting a rather convincing Blood Legion soldier voice. It was one of his favorites, and one he had employed undercover a handful of time. "Hey, big guy!" he rumbled. "You need any help with saluting your Legionnaire there?" Orsin let out an appreciative chuckle, closing his eyes and showing his teeth. His left paw started to come around Xavis's side, and he gave the smaller male a little squeeze. "Scorch, I didn't expect anybody to, to find me all the way out here in the middle of nowhere. Are you sure you're not just here to rob me?" Xavis had to laugh. His fist tightened around Orsin's shaft, and he began to pump him off. Three slow pumps, three moderate ones, and then he was off, driving Orsin toward his edge. He affected that same baritone voice. "There's only one thing I'm going to take from you, soldier." "Nnngh..." Orsin pressed his teeth together, and his face started to scrunch up. He swallowed, then tried to affect another one of his charming grins. The 'tough guy facade' was already starting to fade. He uncrossed his legs, and Xavis took advantage right away, reaching into his pants and pulling his scrotum out. It hung over the edge of his pants, nearly touching against the sofa. "Hphhh... You must be Iron, stranger. You're cranking me like a tank's drive shaft." Xavis chuckled, somehow resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "Priming the engine, we call it," he growled. His voice softened to his own as he gave Orsin's sheath an encouraging squeeze, then began to pump him off once more, wrapping as much of his palm around that engorged shaft as he could. "Close your eyes, Orsin. What do you see?" Orsin did as bade, lifting his head and closing his eyes. He gave off a quiet grunt, trying to keep his expression in a rather awkward-looking smile. Xavis canted his head slightly, trying to figure out why the big guy was making such a weird expression. "It's, it's sunset. The sun itself is blocked by the biggest mountain of the valley... Dagmar's Tooth. That's the mountain. But the sky is, it's orange, and pink, and purple... nnph... hgggh, the clouds are all broken up, like spots, hffff, it's so scorchin' pretty..." Xavis slid his right arm behind Orsin's body so it was pinned between the big charr's bulk and the sofa. His left hand continue to jerk the larger male off, taking no efforts to drag out the process. Xavis was right-hand dominant, but ambidexterity had been drilled into him at a young age, and he had no problem keeping up a firm pounding rhythm as he drove Orsin full speed to his end. "How many trees are there?" "Nnnf, scorch, hundreds -- thousands." Orsin opened his maw and peeled his chops back in a look of pain. "All along the, unph, along the valley, and up the hills, and it's, urrgh, it's Phoenix, and, and, and they're all in bloom..." He seemed to consciously pull his lips back, as though in imitation of one of his normal natural, wide grins, and then Xavis realized what was going on. He's trying to smile. He's thinking about what I said earlier. Irrationally, Xavis felt a surge of indignation. Normally, he found Orsin's self-consciousness endearing, but he refused to accept trading out the big charr's intense, passionate grimace for this crooked-mouthed mockery of mirth. The word came out before he could swallow it back. "Hey." Orsin creaked an eye open. Xavis hadn't stopped masturbating him, and his tongue peeked out from between his teeth. "Hppph... yeah?" "I know you're into this." Orsin grit his teeth, and his body squirmed, pushing against Xavis's fist. "H-huh?" "Your heart rate is faster, you're breathing hard. Your balls have drawn up, your neck is flush, and I can see your nipples through your fur." Orsin was really lost now. Xavis added, through all of what he could perceive about the bigger male's physiology, 'a visibly confused, distracted expression' to the list. The Ash carefully rose further up Orsin's body, motioning his muzzle toward the lower of Orsin's left ears. He locked his arm, continuing to masturbate the poor befuddled charr as he whispered into his ear. "I can tell when you're having a good time. You don't have to prove it." Understanding dawned in Orsin's eyes. He turned his head, and Xavis expected an affirmation. What he didn't expect was for the bigger charr to bump his nose against the other's and kiss him right on the mouth. Orsin's left arm locked as he tugged Xavis in, pulling him against his body; the mesmer had to twist his arm just right to keep up his stroking pace. "You -- get me," was all Orsin could manage between kisses, breaths, puffs, groans. But Xavis understood, and as the little charr pulled back, he could see Orsin's toothy grimace, his face scrunched up in agonized passion, a trickle of drool leaking from the side of his mouth. Xavis slid his thumb up the side of Orsin's charrhood, pushing his pad toward the slickened head. Orsin shook the couch as he rocked against it, the traces of his grin now entirely gone as his maw craned wide. Xavis rumbled his pleasure as he rubbed at the sensitive link between tip and shaft. As the big guy started to let out a now-familiar groan, Xavis twisted his wrist, taking on Orsin's dick from a different angle, and brought him over the edge. The couch was nearly as loud as the hunter. Both cried in agony as Orsin forced his hips upward, his legs spreading as he plunged against his partner's fist. The first hint of his orgasm came in a burbling spill before the backlog blasted over his chest with force. He squirmed, maw locked in a near furious snarl as he bucked upward, spraying white seed over his stomach. His penis throbbed arhythmically in Xavis's paw as the Ash drove him onward, milking him for every last drop he had to offer, heedless of the orange beast's slathering gasps. Even after Orsin had spewed his last, Xavis continued to pound him off, until at last the big guy's wriggled as though to try to get out of his partner's grasp. Xavis didn't let him off the hook just yet, and only once the groaning, gasping male started whimpering did the Ash let up. His paw frosted in dribbling seed, his brought it up to rest upon the hunter's equally messy belly, looking down at the fruits of his labor with satisfaction. Save Orsin's breathing, they were silent and still for nearly a full minute. It was broken as Orsin let out a loud, puffy-cheeked exhale, a sound similar to a 'phew'. "Scorch," he murmured. He turned his head down to the little charr snuggled against him and gave a tired smile. "Your turn?" "I'm fine," Xavis replied, shaking his head. He hadn't even so much as unzipped his pants, though even now the bulge pressed against his leathers. A look of paternal worry crossed Orsin's face. He frowned his disapproval. "Hey, you deserve, deserve to get off too. I should--" Orsin had started to reach for Xavis's waist, but the smaller charr reached up. He gently but insistedly pushed Orsin's hand down onto his sperm-slathered belly. "I promise I'm fine," Xavis said, looking up with a thinly veiled smile. "I don't feel like it just yet. I'll probably jerk off while you're sleeping." "I don't understand," Orsin murmured. His eyes were hanging as the post-coital exhaustion drained on him. Xavis's smile grew, and he tilted his head fondly. He leaned forward and kissed the hunter's shoulder. "I'm going to save it for a bit. I promise, I got as much out of it as you did." Xavis could see understanding was coming to the big orange charr, but he decided to push the point home. "You can still enjoy mating without an orgasm. Females have to put up with that more often than males do, you know. Sometimes it's deeply comforting to get your partner off, even if you're not ready yourself." Orsin chuckled quietly. His grin was small, and Xavis could only see the frontmost four of his teeth. The hunter's arm tense, and he pulled the Ash in a little closer, looking down into his eyes. "Partner. I like that. Partner." Xavis smiled, but the words somehow filled him with sadness. A very full, robust sadness. Not hollow. He was used to that. He found himself partly hoping that Orsin wouldn't read too much into that word, and was disquieted as he realized the other half wished he would. So Xavis acted instead of replying. He brought his foot up onto the couch and pushed, pressing his body against Orsin's thick and burly body until the hunter relented. Sniggering under his breath, Orsin went down onto the couch, bringing his legs around to curl up on the cushions (amidst the usual chorus of squeaks and cries). Xavis wasted no time in crawling forward and settling down on the big guy's body. He expected Orsin to start drifting off soon, but the big charr had a little more to say. "What do you call," the hulky charr rumbled, his voice deep yet pensive. "That thing we just did?" Xavis glanced up, curious. Orsin's eyes were hidden by his muzzle and chin, and Xavis didn't feel like moving his head the two inches needed to make eye contact. "Hmm..?" "When you use your paw. Like when you, um, when you, hrrrm, when you masturbate someone. What is that?" Xavis lowered his head, hiding his maw behind Orsin's muzzle. He needed to take a moment to suppress a surprised laugh. He couldn't get all the incredulous mirth out of his voice as he replied, "You mean a handjob? You've never heard of the word 'handjob'?" "Oh." Orsin stirred a bit. Xavis couldn't see his cheeks, but he could feel the behemoth's shoulders raise, hear the bashfulness in his tone. "Now that you, now that you say it, I've heard it before." Xavis snicker-snorted. He nestled his body into Orsin's chest. "I don't know why," the Ash said, closing his eyes. His voice was a little pensive, as though faintly embarrassed. "But they're my favorite. They're considered very, I guess 'plain' is the right term. Basic. Vanilla, if you know that word." "But you, you like them? Doing them, I mean." "I do," Xavis confessed, nodding his head. "I've always been good with my hands, I guess you could say. Call it Ash training. Yeah, I can use my mouth, or I can use my butt." Orsin gave a little juvenile snicker at this, and Xavis patiently let it pass before continuing. "And I do use those, because when it comes down to it, the same thing gets old fast. You've got to have variety in your sex life. But." Xavis's left ears flickered, and he raised a paw tacky with fluid up to scratch at them. "I mean, this probably isn't a shock to you. I like jerking you off. I like being able to control how fast you approach the finish line. I like the way your dick feels in my hand." Orsin had stirred a little. He craned his neck to peer down at the little charr, seeming interested, but unwilling to interrupt. Xavis went on, not making eye contact. "I like that I can use one hand to do the deed, so the other can, you know, rub your belly, rub your chest. Maybe even rub one of your feet, if I bend your leg. And I can pull you in for a kiss." Orsin put on one of his big, cheerful grins. "Scorch, when you're, when you're kissing me, and using your paw, it's, it's one of my favorite things I've ever felt. Your hand is on my, my, near my waist, and our muzzles are touching, but I can feel so much more between them both. And then if you touch me there, on my chest or my belly, it feels, scorch, I don't, there aren't words, Xavis. I can't even tell you how happy it makes me." "I understand," Xavis replied. He finally looked up, catching Orsin's big grin with a soft, but genuine, one of his own. "There's no sense denying it, Orsin. We're past the point where I care how this sounds: You have a beautiful body, and I love touching you. And I love that you love me touching you. Simple as that." Orsin grinned so wide and so sweet, Xavis couldn't resist. He motioned his head forward, and they kissed, each wrapping their arms around the other. They kissed until they were ready to go at it again, and this time, Xavis was ready to go.

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Sixteen

If you see me Could you free me With a smile So I can let go

The longest night had come. Xavis didn't know how Orsin could keep track of it as well as he did, but he seemed to have known the moment the light disappeared. "Hrm, I think today's the day," he said, looking up from preparing a snack of nuts and dried pepperoni. Xavis was doing the dishes nearby, and he turned just enough to glance out the kitchen's window. "The longest night. You know what that means?" "What's that?" Orsin turned, the last traces of sunlight veiled by clouds and snow yet still shining radiantly in his eyes. He flashed a grin. "This is the dead center of Colossus. We're exactly halfway to Zephyr." Xavis turned to regard him. He looked out the window into the fading light, smirked, then turned back to the dishes. "Is that how that works?" "Uh huh, at least according to the norn," Orsin confirmed. He popped a hazelnut into his mouth, crunching it loudly. "I miss being outside." "Nothing's stopping you," Xavis replied. He kept his voice level, without a hint of humor, but he knew Orsin could get that he was teasing. "Open up the window, go make a snowman. I'll be right behind you, promise." The hunter snickered. The wind was barreling fiercely against the nearby window. It had become such an omnipresent sound that both of them had been used to it for many days. He brought his hand down to his loincloth and scratched it aimlessly as he looked out the window. "I'd hafta go put something on." "Nonsense," Xavis responded crispy. He was scrubbing a particularly stubborn piece of fat now, trying to get it off the bottom of a stew pot. "Mind over matter. Temperature is an illusion. If you think hot thoughts, then you'll be fine." He could hear and feel Orsin moving behind him, but he was so caught up in his pot-scrubbing that he didn't expect the big charr to come up behind him. He felt first the hunter's strong arms coming around his own, then the gentle lump in the charr's loincloth pressing against the Ash's leathers. The rest of Orsin's body came upon him moments later, wrapping him up in a hug from behind, and the big orange charr growled in his ear. "Well, maybe you could warm me up first, and then I'd, I'd have a reason to cool off." Xavis turned his head away with a grin, but Orsin pressed his advantage, digging his muzzle into the side of the Ash's neck. Xavis barely managed to turn off the water, his half-scrubbed pot left to clatter in the sink as Orsin squeezed him so tight, the little charr could scarcely move his arms. Xavis tried to turn to face Orsin, but found that the big charr, who usually relented instantly to any insistence on the mesmer's part, kept him still. A hundred ways to escape flickered into Xavis's head -- some using mesmer magic, but most being long-ingrained mundane tricks for escaping a grappler, with or without harming the assailant -- but the little charr kept still, waiting to see where this was going. "Sounds to me like you've already got those 'hot thoughts' under control." "Don't blame me," Orsin growled into Xavis's left ears. His massive paws were going down the Ash's chest body, each one nearly big enough to wrap around the little white charr's slender torso. His weight on Xavis's back was enveloping, oppressive. "Any charr'd want to blow a gasket if they saw the way you were scrubbin' those dishes." Xavis suppressed a grin, but his tongue peeped out from between his teeth. This was the first time Orsin had taken charge, and wouldn't you know, it was working for him. He set his hands upon the edge of the sink, and used the leverage to gently rub his buttocks against Orsin's swelling girth. "If your thing is watching charr do house chores, wait'll you see the way I sweep. Some charr just know how to handle a broom." Orsin gave out a quiet snort, and Xavis could tell he was grinning. He may have even laughed if his attentions weren't elsewhere. He could feel the hunter's appraising eyes going down his backside, watching the way that snow-white fur became spotted with gray speckles the further it got to his waist. Xavis snuck a hand in near his waist and began to undo his pants, with slow, cautious movements. Orsin smacked his lips, bringing his paws back to Xavis's hips. He lifted his chest, then shimmied his hips, rubbing his bulge between the tight outline of Xavis's cheeks until the loincloth came loose. Orsin pulled back only long enough for the strap of fur to tumble to his feet. His penis unbound by its prior confines, the big charr stepped forward, squeezing himself up against Xavis until his tip bumped against the tip of the Ash's tail. Xavis finally got the belt and buttons undone. He jerked his hips forward, then pushed it back, smearing his leathered rump along Orsin's shaft until he felt the pants start to loosen. He could hear Orsin's gentle snuff of surprise as he felt the Ash's waistband start to rub along his frenulum, followed by a sharp intake of air as the leggings fell to the ground. Xavis locked his legs and arched his back, emphasizing his newly exposed backside. He turned his head, only just enough to see the growing interest in the big guy's expression. Orsin wasted no time. His clawed fingers gripped Xavis's hips tightly as the bigger male oriented himself, his large footpaws thumping on the wood as he shifted into position. Even with Xavis's butt at full height, the hunter had to lower himself to press the tip of his dick against the mesmer's tailhole. He held it there for a moment, throbbing, leaking, before he pushed himself in at near full speed. He was a thick charr, and a lot to take in dry even for an experienced partner. Xavis winced, squeezing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth. "Nnnph," he grunted, but otherwise didn't protest. This was a new side of Orsin, a rare glimpse into the big guy in a dominant role, and he didn't want to ruin his momentum by crticizing, even kindly. Teaching could come later. Xavis knew he could take it. And besides, Orsin was a particularly leaky charr. It would get easier very soon indeed. Orsin penetrated the smaller male up to half-shaft with a low grunt. He wriggled his hips, moved back, and thrust again, getting an extra couple inches. His charrhood throbbed as he thickened to full, spilling his pre and smearing it along the mesmer's inner walls. His large mitts gripped Xavis's sides, vice-like, keeping him mostly still save to rock forward and back in time with Orsin's thrusts. Xavis lowered his head until his forehead touched the rim of the sink. He groaned, tense above the stomach but relaxed below, taking the hunter's girth without much difficulty. He could feel himself start to swell, and his genitals bobbled as each thrust forced his body forward. Orsin was thrusting into him regularly now, and as predicted, each one felt a little easier. The mesmer's insides were slickened and warm, and the hunter plowed against him with growing abandon. Once he had assumed a comfortable pace, the big charr gradually leaned forward, pressing the heft of his muscular chest against Xavis's upper back, leaning toward the side of his head. "Hpph... you okay?" the bestial man growled, his puffing breath hot on the back of the mesmer's ears. The heat was radiating off him. "Yeah," Xavis replied, sparing him with a little smile. He lifted his left arm and wrapped it around the big guy's head, pulling him in for a quick kiss. He could feel Orsin's left hand sneaking up his belly and clutching his chest. It felt so strong, so right, that Xavis could almost let his body go slack, and this great beast plowing into him would feel him aloft. Orsin squeezed his arm, pulling Xavis closer against his body. His thrusting speed was quickening, and each push rocked the mesmer's body forward. Orsin had found the little charr's G-spot, whether he knew it or not, and Xavis let out an agonizing groan as the hunter's dick rubbed against it again, and again, and again. Xavis could feel Orsin's right paw sliding down the crevice between his thigh and groin, and knew exactly where he was going. The little charr pushed his hips back against the orange charr's relentless assault until he felt Orsin's ballsack smacking against his own, and sighed in breathless relief as the big charr's fingers and palm slid around his sheath and shaft. Orsin didn't play around first or coax Xavis into it. His big paw wrapped around the Ash's penis and began to jerk him off, and vigorously. The Ash grinned and closed his eyes, lifting his head, savoring the warm thickness inside him from behind and the warm thickness around him in front. "Together," Orsin panted. Xavis turned his head as he felt a droplet of saliva plop onto his back, but Orsin didn't continue for several long exasperated breaths interspersed with grumbles and growls. "Come, come together," he puffed, and Xavis understood. Orsin was quickly approaching his apex, and this was his last call. "I'll catch up," the Ash confirmed, and he burrowed his dick against the hunter's tan-padded fingers, pulsing in his grasp until he could feel the wetness collect at his hip. Xavis closed his eyes and moved back against Orsin, focusing only on his midsection -- only on the rhythm of their bodies, and the steady pounding of the other's fist on his shaft. "Unnnph... scorch, Orsin," the mesmer groaned, hardly audible over the animalistic snarls and sniffs and scowls overhead. Xavis pulled his left hand off of the counter and brought it to his chest, where he placed his little dexterous palm atop Orsin's paw, securely planting him there. The effect was immediate. Orsin groaned, his fingers pulsing beneath Xavis's, his claws just barely pricking out to press aginst the mesmer's spotted fur. "Hrrrrphh -- hnngh, ggghhphhhh, rrrrrrfffffffgggghh--" He rammed his crotch forward, slamming his malehood as deep inside the little charr's tightness as he could, fighting for every half inch. He thrust thrice, two quick stabs, one final push, and then he let out a roar loud enough to shake the cabinets as he finally exploded inside him, letting himself go as he pumped wave after wave of milky heat deep inside the Ash. His fist had clenched up, but Xavis had already crossed his own threshold. A mere second after the first of Orsin's geysers, the mesmer scrunched his face up, throbbed to fullness, and buried his cock against Orsin's fist, smashing full throttle into his own orgasm. He could hear the splatter of cum against the cabinets as he gushed into the hunter's hand, and his eyes rolled into his head as he lost himself in the deluge of warm semen splattering deep in his core. His mind crazily imagined ejaculating the very cum being inserted into him, and he let out a long, eager groan as he coasted down from the highest point of his climax. When Orsin had spilled his last, his grip on Xavis's chest relaxed, but he didn't withdraw right away. He let his body sag, and Xavis, just finishing up his climax, had to lash out with his left arm to be able to hold the hunter's greater bulk. Orsin let out a long, indolent sigh, then picked himself back up. He retracted his arms, bringing them back to Xavis's side, and he slowly began the process of withdrawing from his partner. Xavis waited until he felt the gentle 'pop' and subsequent trickling splatter that came with it. He smiled, then reached for a sponge. Now removed from the other charr, Orsin glomped forward and wrapped his arms around Xavis's chest again, drawing a half-giggling protest from the little charr. He picked Xavis up like he weighed nothing at all, and started to march toward the living room. "Hrahah -- Orsin!" He was laughing. "Scorch, we've got to clean it up before it hardens, this stuff stains, and I got it everywhere!" "Nothing we can't clean later using a blowtorch," he teased. He kicked the ajar door to his room open and carried Xavis to his bed. He crashed down upon it, Xavis in his usual position atop his chest, before finally releasing his grip on the snickering charr. "You say that now," Xavis replied with a grin. "But if we keep banging in the kitchen and don't clean up after, it's going to get so slippery that we're going to need ice skates to get around." "I have a pair of those!" Orsin exclaimed, his voice chipper, before growing more pensive. "Uh, somewhere. I did, at least. Got 'em for free. They hurt like, like hell to wear." "Let me guess," Xavis said in a droll tone of voice. He had picked himself up from Orsin's body just long enough to grab a couple blankets. Orsin's room was naturally much cooler than the living room, but he had more blankets scattered around than he knew what to do with. Xavis came back down gently onto Orsin's body, wrapping them both up in the soft fur blankets. "Made for norn, charrified for you." "They weren't modified," Orsin said almost gravely, prompting another snicker from Xavis. "I'd rather just skate barefoot an' freeze my toes off." "I'd help you warm up." Xavis smiled, snuggling up. His body was feeling toasty warm, sandwiched between fur on top and bottom. "That's the first time you took charge, you know." "Yeah?" Orsin said, but his grin showed that he knew. "How'd I do?" "Don't make a habit out of it." Orsin laughed at that, and Xavis grinned as well. He couldn't help it, it was infectuous. "You did great. Needed more lube, but good. Just know that you'll have to pry the reigns out of my hands next time." "Have 'em," Orsin said with a shrug. "Scorch, calling all the shots is too, it's too much effort. I'd rather just have you do all the work, like usual. Hrahah, ow!" Xavisi had thwacked him lightly on the chest, and Orsin mock-growled back at him in protest, teeth bared in a snarl that pretty quickly became a grin. "Hreh heh, but seriously, it's like you, like you said. It's variety. I like it more when you take control, but that felt -- it felt good. It's what I wanted to do. And I meant what I said, you know. I dunno what it was, but you doing dishes, and me seeing you from behind, it just, it did it for me." "I'm okay with that," Xavis replied. He had his eyes closed, and his left ears were pressed to Orsin's chest, hearing his heartbeat. "You know that's only the second time anybody's given me a reach-around?" "What's a -- hrrm." Orsin seemed to figure it out. "Scorch, just once before? Do they, I mean, your former partners, do they just, do they expect you to handle it yourself?" "Nobody I've been with really cared what I did, as long as I didn't make them pull out," Xavis explained, eyes still shut. "The one guy who did, well, I had to do two favors for him first. And even then, I think he resented me for it. And let me tell you, there's nothing more awkward than an angry handjob." "Burn me," Orsin marveled. He peered down at the charr on his chest, and though Xavis couldn't see his expression, he could hear the marvel in his voice. "They're missing out. I liked it. I liked just feeling your, your, you know, the stuff that makes you male." Xavis snorted. "You're getting gayer by the day, Orsin." He could actually feel the charr's body growing hot as he went flush, and Xavis snickered in reply. "It's not a bad thing, you know. It's good to embrace that you like guys, if you do." "I, scorch, I mean, I guess I do," Orsin replied pensively. He looked up at the ceiling, and his maw pursed into a slight frown. Xavis could feel his heartbeat quickening, and he knew the big charr was feeling anxious. He started to lift his head to give him a sleepy, curious look. "But it's, it isn't obvious for me, like it is for you, Xavis. I never thought about males a whole lot. I mean, I guess more than, more than females, I did. But no specific charr I've ever met. I liked the idea of being with a male charr more than, um." He crinkled his nose. "More than I really wanted to be with any male charr I've ever met. Does that make sense to you?" Xavis wasn't sure, but he nodded, indicating for Orsin to continue. But the big charr was silent for almost a full minute, and the Ash put his head back down on his chest. "And then I met you," Orsin said, and his voice was so quiet, Xavis could make it out more from the thrums in his chest and along his throat than from the words itself. "And then it, then it did start to make sense. And I guess if that makes me gay, just liking you, then, then okay." "Then okay," Xavis replied at last. He had to focus on keeping himself collected, on keeping his face hidden behind Orsin's muzzle, because he could feel the tears stinging at the corners of his eyes. He could hear the silent wish in the big charr's voice, and he could hear the voice inside, pulsing, always in the back of his mind. It grew louder now. You can't keep stringing him along. It'll only hurt more when you go. He knew the risks. Keep your distance. It isn't your problem if it hurts him. It's his own fault. You have a job to do. Your Legion needs you. The Order needs you. It's his own fault. You don't owe him anything. It's his own fault. Xavis squeezed his eyes shut, and he wrapped his arms around Orsin's body, and he just held him. He held him until he could hear Orsin's quiet breathing, and knew the big guy had dozed. He counted to three hundred, slowly, methodically, until he knew the hunter deep in his dreams. Then he pushed himself up, left the room to head for the couch, and stared at the fire for long, pensive hours. **********************************************************************************

Seventeen

Once more I tell The shadows of my soul Stay back Everything has changed now

"How about, 'Knock it off'?" "No, that won't work." "Hrrrrm... 'Mercy'?" "No, Orsin, it has to be something you'd never otherwise say in this context." "I don't understand, Xavis. Can't it just be 'Stop'?" "It's hard to explain. It's going to make sense, I promise. Just trust me." "All right. All right, how about, um, 'Teddy Bear'?" "Sure. Teddy Bear works great." Orsin grinned, but he looked uncomfortable. He wriggled a bit, testing the strength of his bindings, but they held firm. His wrists were wrapped together over his head, securely fastened by torn strips of blanket to the bedpost. "Could, could you run it by me one last time? So no matter what you do, you're not going to stop... whatever you're doing, unless I say 'Teddy Bear', right?" "That's right," Xavis confirmed. He placed his hand on Orsin's creamy white belly. The big charr's muscles were pulled taut by his bound position, and Xavis slid his hand up to the center of his chest, then toward the inner curve of his right armpit. Orsin squirmed. "It's like an exercise in trust. Sometimes a little bit of pain -- nothing permanent," he added quickly, seeing the worry in Orsin's expression. "But sometimes a little bit helps you reach deeper depths of excitement. You might say 'no' or 'stop' or something as a reflex, but not actually want to stop -- you might want for me to push you further than you could push yourself. That's why we have a safe word. So I don't push too far, too quick." Orsin swallowed. He looked down his body. His arms were together, but his legs were spread apart. The bindings were tight around his ankles, and he couldn't move either foot more than a half inch to either side. Even his tail was bound to the edge of the bed, just below the tuft, dead center between his footpaws. "These're kind of tight," the big charr murmured. "They have to be. You're a strong charr," Xavis said. He was stroking up Orsin's arm now, feeling the tight bulge of his orange-furred bicep. He gave it a firm squeeze, then ran his finger down one of the white stripes that slashed toward his elbow. "And one thing they teach Ash cubs at a real young age is how to make a tight knot. Are you ready to get started?" Orsin swallowed. He tried to move his arms, and his teeth grit with animal anxiety. "What are... you going to do first?" "Something I really think you'll enjoy." Xavis stroked his hand down Orsin's body, settling upon his upper right nipple. He ran the tip of his padded finger around the circumference of his nipple, just barely feeling the little bumps of his areola through his white fur. "Remember to breathe." Orsin realized he had been holding his breath. He let it go in a loud 'whoosh', then closed his eyes. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. He forced himself to focus on the comfort that was his partner's fingers gently rubbing his breast, massaging the bump of his nipple, squeezing th-- "Ow!" The reaction was sudden and violent, and the bed rocked as Orsin jerked. Xavis pulled his hand back and blinked. He had hardly pinched hard, wanting to start the big guy off slow. They made eye contact, and Orsin murmured an apology. Xavis smiled, said it was okay, and went back to rubbing his nipple. "Sorry. I should have warned you. I'm going to start squeezing now," Xavis told him, very softly. "It's going to hurt for a little bit. I want you to try to get past the initial discomfort, endure just a little more than you normally would. But remember what to say if it gets too much. Okay?" Orsin swallowed, nodded, and braced himself. Xavis applied pressure, squeezing the hardening nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He started to twist his fingers, and Orsin started grimacing, grunting in pain. "Ow," he growled, his eyes squeezing shut. "Ow. Ow, scorch, ow -- Xavis, stop!" Xavis stopped moving, but he didn't relax his pressure either. He kept his hand still. He had started to grin -- this was a deep and personal kink of his -- but the big guy was visibly uncomfortable. A few seconds later, he heard Orsin groan out the words "Teddy bear", and he immediately relaxed the tension. Xavis reached his arm across the hunter's body, placing it upon the uppermost nipple on the other side of his body. He leaned a little closer to Orsin, who opened one eye and looked at him, seeming full of sorrow. "Xavis, I don't like this," he whimpered. "I don't, I don't understand. Why are you hurting me?" Xavis felt his heart stir with guilt, or something close to it. He massaged Orsin's left nipple gently. "Do you think you can try one more time? I'll go a little slower this time." Honestly, he wasn't sure how much slower he could go, he had felt like he had barely gotten started last time. But Orsin bit his lower lip, swallowed, and nodded, and Xavis leaned forward, kissing the bound charr on his forehead. He started to apply pressure to Orsin's nipple as gradually as he could, feeling the bump go stiff in his grip. Xavis ran his tongue along his lips, starting to grin as he squeezed just enough to having his thumb and forefinger touch, having applied about half as much pressure as he thought he could. "Ungh, unnn, ow, oww, nnnn--" Orsin grimaced from the pain, and he started shaking his head. When Xavis supplied the slightest extra twist, the big charr groaned, barking the words, "Teddy bear, teddy bear, Xavis, I can't, I can't do this." Xavis pulled his arm back at once. He ran his eyes down Orsin's body toward his naked crotch. The charr wasn't lying; he was completely flaccid, without so much as a hint of life in his orange sheath. The big charr turned his eyes away, looking utterly ashamed of himself. A quiet whine formed in his throat. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his cheeks lashing with red. "I'm really sorry. I don't like it, I don't like it at all." Xavis did feel disappointed, but he empathized with the poor bound charr, and reason soon sank in. Orsin had checked so many boxes off on his list that it was only a matter of time before they found a kink they didn't share. He leaned forward and kissed Orsin's cheek. "It's all right, Orsin. It's not for everybody. It was short-sighted of me to not test you first. You're brave to have been willing to try it." Orsin turned to look up at him. He still looked humbled, and his vulnerable position made it difficult to maintain any degree of dignity. He lifted his shoulders as best he could, and his thick biceps pressed against his ears. "Do all charr like, like this? They like, scorch, they like this pain?" "Not all charr," Xavis said. He almost considered saying 'Most do, though,' but decided it would make matters worse, and anyway, he didn't know it for sure. "Later on, I'll let you do it to me." Orsin lowered his muzzle. "I don't wanna hurt you, Xavis." "I'll like it. Well," Xavis mused, looking down the big charr's bound body. That was all he really had planned. He thought it would be enough. He had just planned on playing with Orsin's nipples for a while until the big charr was so aroused he couldn't take it anymore. Xavis scratched under his chin, his mind racing. "Now what?" he asked, buying himself some time. Orsin, predictably, didn't have any suggestions. He looked down his body as well, and he tried to bring his feet closer together sheepishly. He tugged against all four binds, even trying to flick his tail for good measure. No dice. "It's... I guess it's up to you." It came to Xavis at once. He pursed his lips, looking thoughtfully down at Orsin. "Well, you don't like pain, so I'm not going to use whips or candle wax, of course." Orsin blanched. "There's really only one way of torturing a charr without hurting him that I know of. It's a little unorthodox, but there's some precedence for interrogators employing these tactics to get their prisoners to confess." Orsin swallowed. He looked actually scared now. "What..?" Xavis leaned over Orsin. He brought his hands down to the orange charr's sides, just above his hips. He gave the bound charr a devious look, retracted his claws until they were mere white stubs at the ends of his fingers, and started tickling him. The effect was instantaneous. Orsin barked with sudden laughter, his body twisting and squirming. "Hrahahahahah!" He would angle his body to get away from the claws on one side, only to push tighter against those on the other. "Nonono! Stop, sta-hrah-hrah-hrah-hraaap!" Xavis's grin widened. He raised his hands, finding the big charr's furry armpits and wriggling his fingers there. Orsin howled with laughter, his body shaking, pushing upward against his bindings to escape. His eyes squeezed shut, spittle flying against his teeth as he squirmed helplessly beneath the Ash. "Scorch -- sco-ho-hoh-horch, Xavis, please, hrahahah, please!" Xavis relented for just a moment. This was part of the game, letting his victim breathe, but he also wanted to be sure Orsin had a little time to remember the safe word. He brought his hand down to Orsin's soft, creamy belly, and began to gently stroke him. "Ah, I'm sorry, Orsin," Xavis said with convincing sorrow. "It's pretty cruel of me to take advantage of you like this, all bound up and unable to escape." He could feel Orsin's body rising and falling as he caught his breath. The big charr's cheeks were flushed and hot, and he squinted down as he listened to Xavis speak. "Honestly, what sort of monster would even consider doing... this?" He started to tickle Orsin's tummy with both hands, starting around the belly button and moving outward to his sides. "No!" Orsin barked, and then he began to roar with mirth again. He struggled helplessly against his bindings, his whole body squirming and moving under the Ash's onslaught. "Nohohohohhhhrahahah! Hrahahahahahah!! Stop -- scorch -- scorch -- hrahaha -- yer killin' me -- hrahahaha -- scorch it! Hreheheheheh, stop, hrahah, stop, I can't breathe!" "If you can talk, you can breathe," Xavis replied in an almost singsong voice, canting his head affectionately as he watched the large charr writhe involuntarily beneath him. He was loving this, and his enjoyment was only enhanced as he watched Orsin's penis emerge from its sheath, bouncing and bobbling with every wriggle and thrust. When he had finished with the bound charr's musclegut, he moved lower. He took only a moment to stroke the tips of his fingers along Orsin's shaft, just enough to keep him riled up as he gave the big charr a couple moments to breathe. Xavis pushed himself up on the bed, moving himself until was situated between the supine charr's legs. He brought his clawed fingers down to Orsin's inner thighs, gave him a mischievious grin, and started to vigorously stroke him from the crook of his knees up to his inner groin. "Wha, wha, whahahaha -- hrahahahahah! Rrrgh, rrrrrrr, Xavis, it tickles!" "Are you sure?" Xavis taunted, his fingers wriggling away at the thick thight, slightly matted with sweat. Charr hips were wide, and it was easy for the Ash to rotate his wrists and explore every inch of the charr's upper leg. The area just below his groin seemed to be a real sensitive spot, and naturally, Xavis worked there the most. Orsin's face was burning red, and he was visibly and audibly gasping for air. He was still laughing his tail off, but was making a better effort at trying to keep his mouth shut, giving him a wide, helpless grin. Tears were streaming from his eyes. He continued to plead for mercy, for Xavis to stop and give him time to breath, but he never uttered the two words that he knew would give him just that. Orsin was rock hard by now, and a bit of dew had collected at his tip. Xavis lifted his hands, giving the big guy a few moments to recover. The mesmer leaned forward and gently kissed the hunter's shaft, then gave him a little lick of encouragement. A reward for having endured this much. As his mouth worked the bound charr's penis, his hands worked below. His left hand wrapped under the charr's furry scrotum, massaging the contents. He lifted Orsin's heavy ballsack, and his right hand started to work the big male's taint. He began to slide his knuckles along the perineum, massaging him with just the right amount of pressure. Orsin was still breathing hard. He groaned, his body stirring. He writhed again, this time pushing his hips up with slow but powerful force, pushing the underside of his penis against Xavis's muzzle. The bed creaked as he tried to pull his arms and legs in, fighting against those binds that held him tight. He started to drip, his body responding to the overstimulation. Xavis took the tip of Orsin's dick into his mouth, suckling upon the first drizzles of his pre. It tasted so good, he rubbed the big charr's balls and taint more vigorously, encouraging him to leak more Orsin had no choice but to surrender. His body was being churned like a machine, and the bound charr felt his shaft pulsing against Xavis's tongue, trickling into his mouth. He let off a low, quiet groan, his taut arms tensing. He looked down his body, watching Xavis work hungrily along his malehood. Xavis wanted to keep suckling. Orsin was so hard, so stirred up, and he was adorable in his helplessness. Xavis wanted to finish him off right then and there, to bring him to completion all over his taut, rippled body. But he had other plans, and so, with effort bordering on titanic, he pulled himself up from the hunter's penis, and brought his right hand up to wipe the precum and spit from the end of his muzzle. "Help me out here, Orsin," he told him, eliciting a confused blink from the tied-up charr. "We've tested your armpits, your sides, your belly, and your thighs. What other part of a charr's body do you think might be ticklish?" It took Orsin a moment to realize what Xavis was implying. His face fell. "Oh -- scorch, Xavis, don't tickle my paws too--" "Your paws!" Xavis exclaimed with mock enthusiasm. He even made a show of slapping his forehead. "You're a genius! What a great idea. Don't you want to know how sensitive your feet are?" "N-not really," Orsin rumbled quietly. But he watched with apprehensive curiosity as Xavis slid further toward the edge of the bed and moved toward his tied right foot. Xavis slid his left hand below Orsin's heel, his right below the ankle. Orsin was bound such that he couldn't pull his leg in, nor get much movement left or right, but his leg could be lifted a few inches. Xavis had, of course, planned it this way, knowing his own thighs weren't so thick. He crossed his legs, delicately lifted the heavy footpaw up, slid his lap underneath, and set it down. Orsin tried to move away, to pull it back or kick forward, or to rotate his paw out of the way, but to no avail. He winced, clenched his toes, and braced himself for what was to come. But Xavis started massaging him. His movements were slow and comforting, and though Orsin knew this was a trick, he couldn't help falling for it. It felt so good. The Ash pushed his thumbs deep into the charr's smooth central pad, wrapping his fingers around the back of the midfoot until, with a low groan, Orsin found his toes unclenching. They splayed as he arched his foot, and Xavis took advantage, running his fingers between his padded toes soothingly. He pressed the side of his paw against Orsin's toes, pushing them back and pulling his foot taut. He lowered his fingers... And gently and swiftly scraped all five claws along the center of his foot in random patterns. Orsin thrashed, snorted, and tried to pull his leg back. The bed creaked in agony from the force of the hunter's muscular leg, but the bindings held him in place as Xavis brought his tickling fingers up, closer to the toes. Orsin snickered, then started to laugh again. He tried to clench his toes, but Xavis's other hand remained steadfast, keeping them pulled back so that his sole was pulled entirely taut. "No, no, stop, stop, hrahahah, stop!" Orsin's leg twisted as his body writhed, struggling in vain to escape from those torturous claws. Xavis had to spread his legs some; while the big charr's orange-furred footpaw didn't have much lateral movement, the dewclaw coming off of his heel was sharp, and it wouldn't rightly be Orsin's fault if it speared the Ash's thigh now. Xavis leaned, turning his eyes from one foot to the other. He was grinning coyly now. He let the toes of Orsin's right foot go. They clenched, and Orsin gave a soft "hrah" of relief, but it didn't last more than a moment before Xavis was already going to town on the bound left, tickling his sole mercilessly. "Ah, scorch! Scorch, scorch, stop, hrahahahaha, stop, stop, hrahahaha! Hrahaha, I can't breathe, I'm gonna, gonnaaaahahaharrrrrph! Hrrrrrrpphhhhrrroohohohahahah! Hell! Hraha, hell! I'm, hraha, I'm beggin' ya!" Xavis didn't let up. Orsin's whole body was squirming to escape. His orange cheeks were almost crimson, and he made staggering loud gasps between absolute roars of laughter. Between their faces, Xavis could see Orsin pulsing at full throb, his malehood completely erect, and the Ash snickered, wondering how his cheeks could spare the blood. Stretching his arms out, Xavis alternated between tickling and rubbing, each hand near one foot. He kept each entirely random, sometimes pressing to one foot as he massaged the other, sometimes mirroring, sometimes not touching Orsin at all. Affection at some times, torment at others. Not knowing which Xavis would do and when made the big charr more sensitive to the little one's touch, and Orsin was wheezing for breath having laughed so hard. Xavis could see the bound charr straining to look at him, perhaps in the vain hope of having a glimpse of which of Xavis's fingers were about to do what action, but there were too many tears in his eyes unable to be rubbed away. The world was a blur. "Hppph -- hppph -- hraha -- hraaaaaaaahaha -- s-scor -- scor -- hraaaaapphhhh -- t-ted -- t-teddy bear..." Xavis lifted his hands at once. He brought his hands down on the outsides of Orsin's powerful legs, stroking up his body as he crawled back toward his crotch. Orsin was sweating profusely, gulping down air. He looked as though he had just run a marathon with his hands tied over his head. His eyes were partially closed, stinging with sweat and tears, and his tongue lolled up from his mouth. He stared at Xavis, and revealed a single tooth as he pulled his maw back into an exhausted smile. Xavis tilted his head, opened his muzzle, and went down on Orsin's erection. He pulled his teeth behind his lips and took the entire shaft into his wet maw in a single plunge. He bathed Orsin's malehood with his tongue, not pulling his muzzle back even as he licked at him until his chest burned and his jaw started to ache. He earned this. He had endured such torment, had lasted longer than Xavis would have guessed, and it was time for him to reap his reward. Orsin's eyes rolled up into his head, and he let out a loud, tired moan. His legs fought for purchase, trying to dig his heels into the bed in order to thrust upward into Xavis's mouth. He couldn't get much leverage, but he pushed his hips as hard as they would go, surrendering himself utter to his partner's affection and to his own carnal pleasure. Still suckling on Orsin's penis, Xavis brought one hand up, stroking the big charr's balls. He wrapped his thumb and forefinger around to the hunter's sheath, squeezing and pumping, while his remaining fingers grasped what of the larger charr's furry scrotum they could. His other hand reached for Orsin's belly. His touch was all pads and no claws, patting and kneading his big snow-furred belly, coaxing him onward. "Unnnnnnnhhhh... hrrrrrrrrrggggh... " The big charr was still breathing hard. "Unnn..." He pushed upward into the Ash's maw, his taut arms tugging against the backboard, unable to resist the masculine urges that were being churned out of him. He had been quieting down, still exhausted after having filled the room with several minutes of noise, but his whine picked up to a snarl to a little roar as he twisted his body, crossing his point of no return. He writhed helplessly in the bed, but no matter how he thrashed, Xavis kept the larger male securely, comfortably in his mouth. Both hands squeezed, one gripping his stomach, the other kneading his ballsack and sheath, and he turned his maw just so to slide his tongue around the pink, pulsing cocktip. Orsin threw his head back, and Xavis braced himself for the torrent of cream that splattered against the back of his throat. He swallowed and plunged for more, lashing his tongue around to lick along the hole at his tip, and he could actually feel the hot semen bursting forth from the opening. Semen filled his mouth. Orsin bucked his hips suddenly, ferociously, and Xavis gulped down the deluge that followed. He pulled back, sliding his lips along the shaft with a kiss upon the tip, and Orsin burst a long rope of cum along the Ash's muzzle. Xavis withdew as his hand pointed the charr's dick toward his face, and he pumped the bound charr vigorously until he milked the last of his seed over his belly. Xavis watched this as he moved, bringing his hips forward. His right arm slid along Orsin's belly toward his arm, and the left soon followed upon he was pinning the already bound charr down to the bed. The Ash pressed groin to groin, his white ballsack snuggling comfortably against Orsin's, the underside of his shaft pulsing against the bigger male trickling his last. Xavis began to grind against him, shaft grinding on slickened shaft. He felt Orsin's seed gliding along his dick, and knew as he lowered his body that he was in turn dribbling pre along Orsin's. He brought his muzzle down to lap at the hunter's chest, taking the musk of his body in against the salt of his semen on his tongue. The big charr was sighing and growling now, offering no protest as Xavis pushed against him, humping his malehood against his partner's. Orsin's maw was still contorted in a toothy grimace, and he was drooling copiously, looking down with dazed wonder at the little charr frotting against him. He shifted his weight as he felt Xavis sliding his hands beneath his bulk, and he gave a quiet groan. Xavis returned the groan, letting off a gentle rumbling gasp as he felt his insides roil with anticipation. He pounded his hips downward as hard as he could, plowing the underside of his malehood against the bound charr below him. His body thrust forward as he came, jerking his head up and letting off a sudden "Nnyggh!" He throbbed as his body thrummed with pleasure, spilling his seed in long ropes along the hunter's robust belly. He had thrust forward with such force that he could feel Orsin's penis poking at the back of his balls, then at his taint, and he ground against it as his own dick churned, pulsed, and spewed. Xavis held on tight through his climax. When he had finally come to rest, utterly spent, he let out a loud, ungraceless "Scorch." He could feel the spunk of their lovemaking squishing between their bellies as he caught his breath. He could focus now on Orsin's own deep breathing, hot on his muzzle, and Xavis leaned up and brought their lips together. Orsin closed his eyes, and Xavis did too, losing himself in the taste of the big charr's maw, the strength of his tongue, the heat of his body. He longed to feel the big charr's powerful arms wrap around his back, and he wondered for an instant why Orsin wasn't embracing him. He blinked an eye open, peered up at the bindings, and snorted. He pulled back with a final kiss. Orsin had a dreamy, half-sleeping expression, and his brown eyes lifted to watch as Xavis leaned over his body and undid the bindings around his wrists. Xavis started to back up toward his legs, but Orsin was hungry for more of Xavis's touch, and now he was in a position where he could exert this need. He wrapped his arms around the little charr and pulled him down, squeezing him tight. Xavis snickered quietly, entertaining the big charr with a few more smooches before sinking down onto his chest. "So, how do you like being tied up?" the little charr asked. "It's, it's real different. It's kinda embarrassing, but in a, in a good way." Xavis thought that made sense. He didn't respond verbally, but he nodded the side of his cheek against Orsin's chest. "The, um, the, uh, the stuff you were doing near the end, the--" "What, the tickling or the frotting?" Orsin cleared his throat, and Xavis could tell he was blushing. Of course he was blushing. "The, the tickling. What's frotting?" "Don't worry about it," Xavis replied with a chuckle. He was gently rubbing just below Orsin's pectorals. "What were you going to ask?" Orsin made a quiet grunt. "Do... charr, do that often? I've, I mean, I haven't heard of anybody... I mean, nobody's... well, I mean, do they?" Xavis wet his lips with a roll of the tongue. He considered the larger male's words thoughtfully. "If you're asking if charr often tie enough other up and tickle them until they cum--" This prompted a nervous chuckle from Orsin, and Xavis smiled, letting it pass. "Then, no, I wouldn't say it's common. But I wouldn't really say it's 'rare', either. I guess ultimately, it's just a less painful version of twisting nipples or using whips. It pushes someone past their limits, which can be ultimately very erotic. As, well, I guess I don't have to tell you anymore." "I see," Orsin rumbled confidently. There was a pause, a mild shift, and then he said, a little less so, "What do you mean, whips? As in, they, they, they tie people up and hit them with whips?" Xavis considered for a moment, then nodded. "That's more or less right. There's a psychological aspect, of course. Having the power of controlling how much pain you inflict, or trusting your partner to inflict only enough harm as to not cause real damage, those can be real turn-ons for people. But ultimately, yes, you have to be okay with getting lashed in order to enjoy that." Orsin shook his head. "I don't get it. I don't understand the pain part of it." "You don't have to. Just like how a lot of charr aren't in to having their paws touched, you don't have to be in to getting whipped, or tweaked, or anything you don't want to be." "I think I understand that much, at least. And, and there's one more thing, I think I understand too." Orsin grinned, licking his lips. He brought one big, sweaty palm up, cupping Xavis's breast. The big orange charr made eye contact with Xavis, who pursed his lips with an almost impressed look. He felt Orsin gently squeeze one of his nipples between his thumb and forefinger. "Even if you're not into something, your partner can be. And it can be, you know, you know, arousing, to arouse them." He pinched, and Xavis grunted, his teeth showing in a grin. It was much too soon after his last climax to get much sexual desire out of it, but the thought counted. He took Orsin's wrist in his hands and brought it up to his maw, giving his fingers a gentle kiss. "You've learned so much," Xavis said with earnest delight, and he fell against him with a long kiss.

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Eighteen

You've shaken your faith in me No You've shaken my faith in everything else A decision no one makes And now you're going home Faith is a hard thing to hold on to Something inside you says I don't have to

When Orsin put his whittling knife away, Xavis knew it was time to talk. He could tell by the slow, jerky movements of the big charr in the corner. He could tell the way he set the owl figure he was working on aside, and by the expression in his eyes. He could tell by the way Orsin was taking deep breaths, as though bracing himself for a marathon or a leap of faith. He could tell by the way Orsin swallowed as he got to his feet, and by the way the tips of his claws tapped together as he approached the sofa. Xavis had known the conversation was coming. It was probably overdue. They were coming up on their sixth week together now, and Orsin was predicting the snow and the wind would start to calm within the next half-month. Xavis had been starting to wonder if the big charr would bring this up at all, this can of worms he was about to pry open. But Xavis knew deep down it would come. Orsin was skittish for his size, a little socially awkward, but he wasn't a coward, and he knew that he had to bring it up or regret it his whole life. Xavis kept his book upright on his lap, and didn't look up until Orsin spoke. "Hey. Xavis. Can we talk?" Xavis put on a thin smile, lowering his book. His heart was low in his chest. But he set the hardcover novel aside, brushed his mane back, and adopted a more upright position. "Of course. What about?" Orsin let his air go out. He looked like one of those deer he hated so much caught in the headlights of an oncoming tank. "I want to ask you, to, stay with me. Through Zephyr, through Phoenix. Through next Colossus. Just, just forever." Xavis wet his lips with his tongue. He closed his eyes and shook his head. "I can't do that, Orsin." "But why?" The hunter crossed his arms over his chest, the corners of his mouth pulling back into a deep frown. "Are you afraid you'll be found out? They wouldn't going to jail you for going AWOL or something, are they?" "It's not that," Xavis replied. He pushed himself up off the sofa, then stepped around it, keeping the seat between himself and the larger male. He leaned on the backrest, staring across the living room. "It's not that easy, Orsin. This world needs competent soldiers. Dragons are just one of a thousand problems. I can't just, just, sit in a warm cabin all day while the world crumbles around us." "But you've done your part!" the larger charr protested. His tail was swinging erratically behind him. "Scorch, how many dozens of Svanir have you taken out? And that was just one day! You said yourself you never got a day off. Haven't you earned a little peace and rest?" "It's not that easy," Xavis repeated, his patience tested. "You don't know what it's like out there, Orsin. Tyria is going to hell, and I can't, I can't just let that happen. I can't let my Legion down. That's not on the table." "Didn't your Legion let you down, Xavis? Didn't they send you out there, undertrained, undersupplied, undersupported? To the point where you had to run, remind me, how many scorching miles because you were being hunted?" "That's beside the point," Xavis snapped back, and his tail gave an irritable flicker behind him. "I don't demand things of Ash, I provide them. You might not remember Legion loyalty, Orsin, but it's not something you can just crumple up and toss aside." "I scorchin' do remember Legion loyalty!" Orsin pulled his teeth back into a sneer. "I remember nearly being shoved in the Stockades and reduced to scaldin' slave labor because I was too traumatized to get out of bed! That's all the Legions do, Xavis, they pour salt on our heads, they dump it on us more an' more an' more until we shrivel like little slugs, and then they kick us out of the way as soon as we ain't useful to make way for the next recruits." "You're being dramatic." Xavis felt his claws digging into the back of the sofa, and he forced his fingers to relax. "You're a civilian now, Orsin. Whether or not you give a damn about the Legion, the Legion gives a damn about you. We're protecting you from--" "From what? From scorchin' dragons? You need to get back to the Core as soon as you can so you can wrestle a dragon with your bare hands? You're too smart fer this, Xavis, I know you are!" "Yeah, from dragons!" Xavis barked back. His voice was raising, and he was finding it hard to keep under control. "You think I like the idea of Jormag bumbling into this valley and shredding this ugly little hovel to shreds with a single swipe of a claw? You think I want for you to turn into some, some, terrible Icebrood fiend and go marauding through a hamlet, killing people?" "What happens is gonna happen, Xavis!" The exasperation was all too evident in the big charr's tone. Unlike Xavis, Orsin was taking absolutely no pains to hide his stress. "You're not going to single-handedly stop Jormag from doing what Jormag does. You've given, given, how many years? How old are you, thirty-three?" Xavis was thirty-five, but he didn't say so. "If you're going to say that's enough time, and that I can retire to sit on my ass and live this life of leisure, don't." "This ain't scorchin' LEISURE!" Orsin stomped forward, and the floors shook with the force. Xavis found his breath catching in his throat. A month and a half spent with this giant of a charr, and yet only now did it really, truly sink in just how massive this behemoth was... and how terrifying he could be. "You think living by yourself, hunting by yourself, fixing everything that breaks by yourself is some sort of leisure lifestyle? You think being trapped in a cabin unable t'so much as crack a window is leisure? Do they work you so scorchin' hard that imprisonment is a vacation to you?!" "This is a vacation, Orsin," Xavis growled, feeling the indignation rise in his voice. "We haven't done a damn thing against the dragons in all the time I've been here. You think wittling birds and reading books is going to save the world?" "I don't want to save the world, Xavis. I don't give a scorchin' lick how that sounds!" Orsin took another step forward, and the floorboards shook beneath him. "I don't want nothing to do with the world, not now, not ever again! I want to stay in my little valley, I want to eat only what I can hunt, and I want to just be with you. I wanna be with you every day of my life until I'm dead, and I'm not, I'm not, I'm not gonna feel guilty about that!" "That is your problem, Orsin," Xavis growled, narrowing his eyes to slits. "That's your responsibility to be irresponsible. I didn't ask you to love me. I didn't even want you to love me. You spent all--" "I can't scorchin' help how I feel!" "You spent all this time," Xavis continued, his fury cold. "Nurturing this feeling, when you should have been spending it bracing yourself. Getting ready to lose me. There are things more important than you, Orsin. And me, for that matter. There are things more important than both of us out there, and just because you've forgotten that doesn't mean I have." "What are you saying?!" Orsin roared. His arms were uncrossed now, his claws extended, his teeth showing. "What the hell is more important to you than yourself? How can you scorchin' think about putting yourself so low on the totem pole that you're willing to suffer out of some, some, some scalding obligation to an army that thinks you're dead?!" "Because I know the stakes!" Xavis snapped back. "Because I know what these threats are going to do to us if we don't work our tails off and fight back. I am prepared to give my life for the Citadel." "You already have!" Orsin slammed his foot forward again, and his elbow bumped against a picture on the wall. It fell to the ground with a clamor of noise, of glass shattering and wood splintering. The hunter didn't give it so much as a glance. "You already gave it, Xavis, don't you see?" "What do you mean?" Xavis answered coldly. He knew he was setting a trap. "You gave your life for your mission, because you, because you would have died, Xavis, you would have died! You were gonna die, hell, you were minutes, maybe seconds away when I found you!" Orsin's voice was raising, louder, louder, filling the room. "You spent hours in the snow, you had Svanir coming to skin your hide, you, scorch, you fell off a scalding mountain! I saved you, Xavis! I saved you, but damn it, you're supposed to be dead!" The words hung thick in the air. A fire flickered behind Xavis's eyes. He started to smile, a dark, sinister smile. Words were an Ash's weapon, and Orsin had tossed him a bazooka, safety off, locked and loaded. "I'm supposed to be dead, huh?" The big charr's fury left him almost at once. His angry eyes grew wide. He looked almost scared. He started to shake his head, and he swallowed. "Xa... No, Xavis. I didn't me--" "Oh, yes you did," Xavis replied with cold, crisp ire. "You think I owe you my life. You think." He took a step closer, then another, rounding the sofa. "You think because you stumbled by at just the right moment, that I owe you. I owe you my life. Is that it, Orsin?" "Xav... I, that's not, I didn't mean it like--" "That's exactly what it is." Xavis cocked his head, staring into the eyes of the massive beast before him. He took another step forward, and Orsin gave ground, taking a tentative step back. "You think that because you were in the right place at the right time that I owe you. I owe you my life, I owe you my love. That's what you think, isn't it?" Dimly, in the back of his mind, Xavis recalled having said weeks earlier that he owed Orsin his life. He shoved the thought aside. It was irrelevant. This was an argument, and he was going to win it. The bigger charr's brown eyes were watery. He shook his head, all the fight having been left him. "It ain't, Xavis, it's not. It's not. I don't--" "You do, though. Maybe you don't even want to admit it to yourself, but deep down, you know that's true. You think it would be ungrateful for me to consider that there is something more important than you and your world. That there is something more important than your tiny, meaningless little valley, where you have nothing more dangerous than deer to get your undershorts twisted up about!" Orsin grimaced, wincing as though struck. Xavis knew bringing that up would hit him where it hurt, and he pressed his advantage. "You want to use my life as a bargaining chip for your own self-interest. It's true, isn't it?" Xavis took another step forward, wider than the one Orsin took back. He jabbed an unclawed finger into the center of Orsin's chest, hard enough to cause him to wince. "Isn't it?" When Orsin had no reply, Xavis snapped at him with all his force, "ISN'T IT?" Orsin shook his head, but his throat had closed up. He couldn't reply. He could only make small, scared whimpers in a choked voice. "I don't owe you my life, Orsin, and I don't owe you my love." He didn't even know if he believed the words he was saying anymore. It didn't matter. He had turned the tables on the argument, and he was going to win. He was going to crumple up this stupid oaf of a charr, this insubordinate sub-Gladium, for having the gall to argue against him. "I haven't lead you on a single step of the way. I have been nothing but transparent about the fact that I -- will -- leave. You're the one who fell in love knowing it couldn't last, and now you're the one who's going to have to deal with it." He had more words ready, and he was ready. His hackles were up, his blood was pumping. Xavis stared up into Orsin's eyes, silently daring him to snap back. He was ready to parry, and when he struck next, he was aim right for the heart. But Orsin was retreating from the fight. His head was low, but his eyes avoid Xavis's. He was red in the face, deeply ashamed, and his tufted tail dragged on the wood. He nodded a little, then shook his head, then nodded a little more, even as he turned away. He seemed barely able to keep himself composed. "What, is that it?" Xavis taunted at his back. "You're the one who wanted to talk. So burn it all, let's talk!" But Orsin didn't look back. He stepped for his room, stepped inside, and closed the door behind. It wasn't even a slam. The big charr took the time to carefully and delicately creak the door shut, such that it closed with a quiet, hardly audible click. And like that, it was over. Xavis grit his teeth and snarled. That scorching coward! That sniveling cub of a goliath! That blustering idiot, so like every idiot Blood in every idiot warband. All babble, all teeth, but you drop a single iota of logic and their train goes careening off the rails and run off with their tail between their legs, bawling like a-- Like a-- What the hell am I thinking? Xavis brought his paw up to his muzzle. He realized he was staring at Orsin's door, unblinking. The adrenaline faded from his system, and his mind raced over the words they had exchanged. In place of a punctuation mark, each sentence ended with a flash of Orsin's enraged face, or, more commonly, that look of sheer desolation, of rue, of pain in his eyes. Pure, unveiled pain, from an earnest charr who had no concept of how to mask it. "Oh scorch," Xavis whispered. He brought his other hand up, and both rubbed his face. He fell back against the couch, his eyes in his palms. "Oh, burn me alive."

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Nineteen

You say you're sorry Now you should walk away But it's so overwhelming You have nothing left to say You can sit outside his door and wait You can dedicate your pain to him

Minutes that might have been hours that might have been days passed, and every second was cold. Time had no meaning anymore. Xavis didn't so much as glance at the window for. He had no desire to know whether there was any light outside. All he knew is that he had stared at the fire until it dwindled to red-glowing wood, and even that soon faded too, and all it left him with was cold. He didn't grab a blanket, even as the cold surrounded him. He shivered, bringing his arms up over his chest and rubbing his arms. He tucked his legs under his body. And still he stared at the fireplace, unmoving. He wasn't hungry, wasn't thirty, wasn't tired. He was cold, and he wanted to be cold. He liked the cold. He deserved to be cold. Days turned to weeks, weeks to months, months to years, and every second was cold. He didn't get bored. Whenever he felt the first twinges of boredom, he rewound the conversation. Hey, Xavis. Can we talk? Xavis closed his eyes and shivered. I owe you my life, and I owe you my love. So cold. He was so cold. You're the one who's going to have to deal with it. He looked so sad. Xavis had never seen a charr look so sad before. How many years, decades, centuries, millenia had passed since that conversation? How did it still manage to break his heart new, every time? How many times can a heart break before it gets so small it can't be broken anymore? I can't scorchin' help how I feel. You're supposed to be dead. I want to just love you. I can't do that, Orsin. I can't do that. I can't. I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't I can'tI can't I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't Xavis got up. His body felt stiff. He hadn't moved in eons, and maybe he had turned to stone. No, ice, it was ice. Of course. It was obvious now. He was so cold, his body had turned to ice. That was it, that was what happened. That was okay. He deserved to be ice. Xavis stepped toward Orsin's room. There was an urge to press his ears to the side of the door and listen. Ash training. But he wasn't Ash anymore. Only charr could be Ash, and he wasn't a charr. He was a big block of ice, and he had no training. He didn't know anything but how to be ice. He wrapped his hand around the doorknob, wondering if ice knew how to work a door. He turned the knob, pushed the door open. It was not locked. Ice can use doors. That was good to know. The room was dark, but so was the living room. Xavis could see the great mass of charr on the bed. But he was small. He looked so small. Maybe Orsin was ice too. Maybe he was melting. Maybe he would be as small as Xavis now. Xavis crawled on to the foot of the bed. He slid his hand forward until he felt blankets, then he lifted, just barely enough for him to worm his head through. He slid under the blankets, feeling Orsin's bulk to his left, trying not to touch him. He slid forward in the darkness until his head bumped against the pillow. He could feel the hunter's light breath on his shoulder. He turned to him, and was -- Attacked? Grappled-- Embraced. Orsin had wrapped an arm around him, had pulled him in, and now he was weeping with loud, sniffling noises. "I'm so sorry," he sobbed. The room smelled of wet salt. Xavis knew the big charr had been crying for a long time. But even now, Orsin had found more tears inside him, overfilling him, spilling onto his cheeks and the pillow and dripping onto the block of ice he held in his grasp. "Oh scorch, oh scorch, I'm so sorry, Xavis, I'm sorry, snphhh, I'm so sorry, snnnnph, I shouldn't've..." The ice was... It was melting too. That was what was happening. Xavis wasn't crying, he was melting. "Orsin." "I shouldn't've, 've, 've said those things, snnnnnnph, scorch, I'm, I'm, I'm so dumb sometimes. I'm so dumb and I should've, I should've, snnnnnnnph, I should've trusted you, I should've listened, I should've..." Orsin's tears fell upon the little charr in his grasp, and those tears became new ones. Xavis's voice was a quiet whimper. "Orsin." "I should've known, and I'm dumb, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Xavis, I don't, snnnnnph, I don't know how to feel, I don't, snnnnnnph, I don't know what to say, I don't, snnnnnnnnph, I don't know how to stop it, I'm not like you, I don't know things, I'm dumb, I know I'm dumb, I know that I'm, snnnph, that I'm dumb and I hate it, but, but, snnnnnnnnnnph..." He was not cold. Everything else was. Everything else was so cold. The living room had no fire. It was so cold. The wind, the snow, the valley, everything outside the window was so cold. The world was ice, and it was so cold. Even Xavis was so, so cold. But Orsin was not. "Orsin." "Snnnph, but I understand, Xavis, I do, I do, snnnnnph. I do, an' I'm sorry, 'cuz I know you've, snnnnph, you've got more than me, and I've, snnnnnph, I've got to accept that, and I will, snnnph, I will, Xavis, I will accept it, and I'll, I'll be ready, snnnnph, I promise, I promise you, I promise you I'll, snnnnph, I'll be ready to let you go, I just, I just..." His tears were as warm as his body. It fell upon him like rain. And Xavis didn't mind crying too, because both of them felt so warm, their water dribbling down their faces and down their bodies. He had forgotten what warmth felt like, and the memory brought the tears to his eyes, fresh, new tears, as though the ones he had already cried had meant nothing. "Orsin." "I just, just, all I want is a few more days, Xavis, that's, that's it, that's all I want, snnnnnnnph, that's all I want, please, I'm sorry, all I want is a few days, just, snnnph, just until the snow stops. Just until the snow stops, snnnnph, that's it, that's all I want, that's all I need, just a couple more days, you gotta, please, you gotta forgive me, snnnnph, just a couple days, that's, that's all, it's..." "Orsin." "Y, yeah?" I should have said this a long time ago. "I love you too." Orsin sniffed, and then he was paralyzed. In the darkness, Xavis could see his brown watery eyes going wide, and the Ash felt that last little piece of ice melt in his heart. He leaned forward, and he kissed, and he kissed and he kissed and he kissed until Orsin kissed him back, until Orsin sobbed and kissed him so much, so fiercely, so deeply that both were left gasping for breath, and they kissed before they had caught their wind. And they moved against each other, and Xavis felt so free, and he felt so good. He felt like he had melted, because he had figured it out. The world was cold, his life was cold, and all he had ever known was the cold. Perfect pristine ice carved in the shape of a charr. Xavis had always, always, always been cold. He had always been cold, until he met this big blustering oaf of a charr. And together-- How did he not see it? How could he survive a blizzard and not know have figured this out? Together. Together, they were warm.

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Twenty

Does he know how long I've waited for this love To come Does he know I'm holdin' on And that won't change no matter where he's gone

Xavis popped the piece of squirrel meat into his mouth. He held up two fingers. "Two weeks," he said, after he had swallowed. Orsin nodded, stabbing a piece of meat for himself. He drizzled a little pepper sauce on it, popped it into his mouth. He spoke with his mouth full. "That's not a lot of time, but it's something. If you come, if you come in Phoenix, when there's no snow, you could probably make it here from Hoelbrak in a day and a half." "Let's say two days," Xavis rumbled, pausing for a moment to take a drink of cool tap water. "So two there, two back. That's ten days. That's not bad, right?" "Ten days in a whole year," Orsin said. His expression was rueful, but then he put on a grin. "Well, that's okay. Maybe sometimes you'll be on missions to the Shiverpeaks, and you can, you can write me a letter, and I can meet you nearby." Xavis put on his kindest and most patient smile. "No, they monitor our mail. They don't say they do, but every Ash knows it. They'd skin me alive if I was tipping off a mission's location." "Oh," Orsin rumbled, cramming another piece of squirrel meat into his mouth. "Ten days, then," he announced with finality. "Maybe you'll get more than two weeks vacation time once you've, once you've strangled those dragons with your bare hands, huh?" Xavis chuckled, sinking back against the sofa. "Yeah, maybe. And I'll write you, you know." "Is, is that okay? Won't they, you know, read them?" Xavis shrugged. "Scorch 'em. I could write the letter in pink pen and draw little hearts and flowers in the margin, and they wouldn't say a word. They don't care who I'm writing little love letters to if it doesn't interfere with work." Orsin's tail gave a little flicker-flick. He adjusted his weight, and the chair creaked and groaned under his weight as he did. "And maybe, maybe if I can travel to Hoelbrak, we could get an inn sometimes, maybe." "Yeah. That's right. I've got enough clearance that I can use the asura gates when I need to. It would be easy for me to get there. So, a night now and then, and then ten days during Phoenix." "Right," Orsin agreed. It was clear that there was sadness in Orsin's eyes -- Xavis could feel the sadness in his own chest -- but there was relief, too, and some happiness. Ten days are more than zero. "I'm gonna, gonna save myself up all winter for you, you know." Xavis chuckled, and he grinned. It was easier to grin these days. "Your balls will burst right open." "Well, okay. I'll just, I'll just think about you when I," the briefest of pauses, "Masturbate, and you do the same for me, okay?" Xavis felt a helpless chuckle escape his throat. Orsin was such a dork sometimes. It was so obvious now that this was part of what he loved about him. "You're so charming. You know I've been doing all the work, right? Are you sure you even remember how to jerk off?" "Yeah, it's easy, it's like using a flint and, and tinder, right?" Orsin made a violent gesture of smashing one palm across the other several times. Xavis laughed, and then Orsin laughed, and the room felt warm. "So, inns in Hoelbrak," Xavis said, sinking back into his chair. "Have you ev--" Something crashed hard against the outside of the cabin. Both charr lifted their heads and turned toward the wall near Orsin's room. Xavis picked himself up from his seat. His bare chest rose and fell in a quickening rhythm. He stole a glance toward Orsin, who was perked but sitting. Both charr were shirtless, but each had their leggings on, and Orsin scratched at his waistband as he shook his head. "Probably a tree," he stated, considered, then nodded. "They fall down in Colossus all the time. I guess the wind is so strong that it blew it right against the house." Xavis nodded, but he did not seem convinced. He glanced out the back window, spotting the wind. Fierce, but weaker than it had been for over a month. He frowned, nodded, and started to sit down. Wham. Eight ears perked up. Wham. It was pounding at the front door. Wham! "The hell is that?" Xavis hissed through grit teeth, wide eyes turning to Orsin.The big charr was raising to his feet now as quietly as he could, but the creaking noises of the chair gave him away. "Shhh!" Orsin gave an 'I'm trying!' gesture. He brushed a thumbclaw below his chin. "Could just be the tree," he whispered. "Maybe it's caught on the-" The door shattered to pieces, sending splintered wood scattering throughout the living room, propelled by gale force winds that howled in the echoing cabin. The charr held their hands up to their faces, shielding from the sharpest spines. Something big and blue barreled into the room in a rush. A cabinet near the door toppled to the floor with a crash of glass and wood, a deafening rush of sound against a backdrop of wind barreling into the little room, filling it with snow and chill. Long spires of sharp blue ice jutted from the thing's shoulder and forearm. One bestial claw scraped the wood as it picked itself up, beady eyes glowering behind a veil of frost. Its vaguely ursine snout was still, not snarling, not even breathing. The aquamarine of its shimmering fur was unbroken, clumps of snow snagging to the spikes bounding from its body. It was huge, bigger even than Orsin, and its expression bore only hatred, pain, and sorrow. Orsin reacted first. "Icebrood!" he bellowed, instinctively taking a step toward Xavis. "It's an Icebrood! Get behind me!" The disfigured kodan charged, ramming the spikes of its mantle into the underfur of Orsin's belly. The hunter brought his arms up to prevent being disemboweled, and lost only a foot of ground. Muzzle twisting in pain, Orsin brought both forearms up and slammed his elbows down into the creature's back, drawing his own blood. The bearlike monster staggered, and Orsin smashed down on its again, sending it down onto his knees. Xavis stayed back. He had finishing incanting a mantra, and he struck out with one hand. Two spectral forms vaguely resembling him leapt out, one from behind the sofa, the other from the fireplace. They dogpiled onto the keeling kodan as the mesmer Blinked into Orsin's room, disappearing behind the wall. The Icebrood ignored the phantasms wailing on his back. He jammed the claws of his hand into Orsin's leatherbound pants and tugged. The big orange charr stood his ground, but gave enough purchase for the kodan to get up to its feet. They lashed at each other, claws lashing out, each one pummeling the other with mighty blows. The kodan's swipes drew blood; Orsin's did not. Xavis materialized beside Orsin. He wasted no time darting between the two, ducking easily between their big bellies. He pulled the crudely made sword he had procured from Orsin's room and plunged it into the kodan's chest. He couldn't make more than a couple inches of purchase, but it was enough for the Icebrood to lose its balance. Orsin bashed his fist into the creature's face, and it went stumbling back. Xavis held his ground, and the monster dislodged from the sword without a drop of blood. The Ash turned and handed the sword to Orsin. The big guy was sweating, puffing, but he still managed to put on one of his big grins. Xavis stared at him, disbelieving. Then he rolled his eyes, ducked to one side, and let Orsin stomp toward the staggering beast. But it had already recovered. It lunged from a crouch, and the phantasms on its back fell back and scattered to butterflies. It swept with such speed at Orsin's face that the charr was caught off-guard, and Xavis could see the splatter of blood hit the wall. The Ash took a step forward, and then the world froze. The kodan had Orsin by the shoulder-- By the forearm-- He was biting-- Tearing the flesh-- A sickening crunch-- Bone and blood exposed-- A deafening roar-- Xavis's body recoiled as his mind gave way to horror. Orsin was howling in pain, the sword clattering to his side. The kodan gave him not an instant to recover. It barreled into him, knocking the charr back against the wall, and tore into him. Xavis moved without thinking. He dove toward the fray, and on instinct, unconscious, automatic, his hand grabbed the poker sticking out of the fireplace. His bare paws crunched upon shattered glass as he flipped the poker around, grabbing the hilt in both hands. He leapt into the air and brought the sharp heated rod down upon the small of the Icebrood's back. It sunk in deep, and the creature began to melt. Its claws scraped at Orsin's bleeding chest as it started to fall, to melt, to drip to the ground, tearing long strips of flesh as it raked down the hunter's body. Xavis stabbed it again, and again, and again as it fell. He stabbed all along its spine, the back of its head, its shoulders. He kicked it over and stabbed its face, its chest, its gut, its groin, its neck, and then he couldn't see, there was sweat or tears or blood or something in his eyes. He threw the poker aside, so scared to look up, so scared that Orsin would be-- He was alive. He was bleeding profusely, and his shoulder was out of joint. The splintered bone was visible, shattered, and redness spilled from the gaping wound. He was pale beneath his orange fur, and his white chest, that beautiful, downy soft chest that Xavis loved to stroke, was torn and dripping crimson. Orsin's voice was a croak. The creature had landed a powerful gash along his throat. "We need -- to block -- the door." "What?" Xavis barked. "The, the door." Xavis looked toward the door, and the snow pattered into his face. The shattered remnants of the door had already been covered in white, and the cabin was quickly filling with clumps of white from the outside world. Xavis gave himself three quarters of a second. That was all he needed. Remember your training. He swallowed, steeled himself, and nodded. "Can you move?" he asked, giving Orsin a stern look. When the charr nodded, Xavis pointed to the Icebrood kodan. "Get it outside. Meet me at the door." Orsin's movements were sluggish, but he did as he was told. He grabbed the dead Icebrood by its muzzle with his right hand and trudged against the wind toward the door. Xavis grabbed two blankets from the sofa and stuffed them into his mouth, chomping down hard. He turned, bent, and pulled up on the living room's table, hoisting it onto its side. Chess pieces and cards went scattering to the ground. Grabbing the table by its legs, he hoisted it up onto his back. It was big, unwieldy, but not heavy, and the mesmer caught up to Orsin right as the big orange charr was tossing the dead monster out of the room. Xavis slammed the edge of the table down near the foot of the door and pushed, ramming the table up against the door frame. It was not easy; the force of the wind was still powerful, and the little charr had to dig his feet into the wood, pushing the glass shards stuck in his flesh deeper into his pads. The very top of the door still howled, letting in erratic sprays of snow, but it was good enough. He yanked the blanket out of his mouth. "Orsin," Xavis told him. Orsin was spacing out as the loss of blood started to catch up to him, and Xavis, still pushing his body against the underside of the vertical table, had to snap his fingers to wake the big guy back up. "Orsin, listen to me. I need you push against this with your shoulder. Your good shoulder," he added. When Orsin hesitated, Xavis grabbed his right arm and pulled him forward, then pushed him against the vertical table. "Stay," he commanded. "Keep it steady." "Uh huh," Orsin rumbled, slowly getting the picture. He tried to righten himself and dig his feet into the ground, keeping the table secured against the doorframe. "It, Xavis, it hurts -- it really hurts." "I know," Xavis said, and he didn't try to mask the real yearning sympathy in his tone. He didn't know what he wanted to do more, to hug the big charr or to fall onto his knees and cry. He did neither. Leaning against the table, he took one of blanket and wrapped it around Orsin's shoulder, tight enough to absorb the blood, but not so tight as to make the injury worse. He only had a few seconds to spare, and it was sloppy work. It would have to do for another few minutes. "Stay," Xavis repeated to Orsin. Then he dashed for the kitchen, yanked over the cabinet, and pulled out the hammer and the entire box of nails. And so Xavis went to work, hammering away. His fingers were numb and slick with blood, and he ended up bashing his own paw three times. Twice, Orsin passed out, still standing, the side of his head pressed against the door. Xavis saw his eyes close, but only spoke when he saw the big charr's legs start to give away. He would stop hammering and gently -- then firmly -- shake the hunter's body until he came to. "Sorry," he muttered both times. And he kept the table steady until Xavis had crudely slammed thirty nails into the table and bolted it to the door. Just one last thing to do. "Stay awake, Orsin," he told the charr, almost pleadingly, then ran for the sofa. He snatched up another blanket, and it trailed on the floor behind him as he thumped for the door. The glass shards in his paws were killing him, and he could feel himself leaving bloody prints with every step, but he didn't have time to pull them out. He pushed himself up on his tiptoes and was just barely tall enough to stuff the blanket into the narrow crevice between the table and the top of the doorframe. There was a crash as Orsin fell to the floor. Xavis spat out a muffled curse, and this time, he couldn't help the tears that sprang to his eyes. He grabbed Orsin's shoulder and shook him vigorously, saying his name over and over. "Orsin. Orsin, wake up, Orsin, Orsin, I can't -- I can't carry you -- please, I can't -- you have to get up--" But Orsin was unresponsive. Even passed out, his face was tight with pain. Those cheeks, so often red and flush, were now pale and gaunt, and this made Xavis cry out harder. The idea came to him quickly enough. He breathed in deep, making sure he had the focus for this. He could do this. The claw of his right finger came out, and he sketched a line around Orsin's fallen form. Nothing happened until he came back around to the point in which he had started, at which point a faint pink outline flared up. Then the ground beneath the orange charr was shimmering with pink and purple and red and orange and all the colors inbetween. Xavis pushed for Orsin's room and pointed at the bed. He drew a sloppy circle over it, and the bed shimmered with color. Xavis staggered back to the fallen charr. The glass shards were almost entirely in his feet now, he could feel how deep they pushed, but he forced himself to ignore them. He had his priorities. He approached Orsin's form, fell to his knees, and pushed. He pushed down until he felt them both sinking into the ground, and the world was suddenly alight with color, all the colors of the world swirling and spinning dizzyingly around them for one otherworldly, hypnotic second. Then they were on Orsin's bed. The big charr's body was contorted from the move, a pillow uncomfortably jammed against his lower spine, and Xavis gave himself five seconds to pull his partner's limbs into a semi-comfortable spot. Then he dove for the cabinet, tearing through wood carvings and papers and books and clothes, tossing them aside until at least, he came upon what he was looking for. A med-kit. "Scorch, scorch, scorch," he groaned. He wiped the tears from his eyes, then tore open the potion bottle. He didn't have time to do more than glance at the instructions on each bottle, usually only just enough time to be reasonably sure he wouldn't make a bad situation worse. He mopped up the blood with the cloths held withim, and bandaged up what he could. There's so much blood. How is there so much blood? How can he still be alive? Is he still alive? Check his pulse. Scorch, he's alive, but how can he be? How can he be when there's so much blood? It's everywhere, how does he have any left? How is he still alive? Is he? Check his pulse... The shoulder was the worst part by far, and it went well beyond Xavis's medical expertise, but he did what he could. He undid the blanket and tried not to grimace at the sudden assault of fresh blood -- not just blood, but insides, of corrosive flesh and marrow -- marrow! He could smell Orsin's blood marrow, and that got his insides roiling. He could feel the bile rising in his throat, and he willed it down. He went through the whole list of potions, relying on what medical training he could recall. Don't combine potions with the same active ingredients. Don't apply more than one kind of potion every five minutes. Note which potions need to be ingested, which are applied to the wound directly, which are patted onto cloth. Orsin's breathing was shallow, but he never stopped breathing, and his heart didn't stop beating. Once every few minutes, Xavis would carefully pry open the orange charr's maw, reach in, and make sure he wasn't choking on his own tongue. Once Xavis felt confident he had done what he could, he sighed, rubbed his head, and pulled his legs up onto the bed. He pulled the tweezers out of the kit, looked at them glumly, then at the soles of his feet. "Scorch it," he growled, gritted his feet, and began the agonizingly painful process of pulling the glass shards out of his paws. It was the most physically painful experience of his entire life. Yet he was so distressed, so caught up in internal turmoil, that in some crazy, delusional way, he welcomed the distraction. Physical pain was much easier to endure. When the shards hadall been pulled and he was cleaning his feet off, Orsin stirred. He let out a loud moan, paused, and then another one, full of agony. "Ooooogh... uuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh..." "Orsin, Orsin!" Xavis clambored up onto the bed. He knelt beside the injured charr, looking him up and down. "Who, who, whooooooogh, uuuugh, it hurts--" Orsin's voice was a whine, piteous and low. The adrenaline had all left his system, and his body thrashed painfully. "Unnngh -- where -- is, where -- who ar -- oh scorch, it hurts -- what hap -- what hap -- why does -- unnngh,why does it hurt so much?" Xavis squeezed his eyes shut, feeling a new wave of tears force themselves out of his ducts. He let them fall. Then he leaned forward, touched the side of Orsin's head, turned his muzzle toward him, and kissed him. Orsin was delirious with pain. He didn't kiss back. He didn't even seem to realize Xavis was there. He continued to whimper in his torture, his glassy eyes filled with despair as he peered at the ceiling. Xavis let out a staggering breath. He swallowed, keeping his hand on Orsin's side. His eyes flashed a low, muted pink, and he turned Orsin's head until the big charr was looking at him. The mesmer magic was stronger than the delirium, and the hunter quieted almost at once. He blinked, swallowed, and stared. "Orsin, listen to me. When I..." Burn me, don't cry now, just hang on for thirty scalding seconds. "Snap my fingers, you're going to drift to sleep. It'll, it'll be warm, and painless, and restful, and your body, your body's going to recover. You're not going to die. You won't wake up until you feel better. And you will not die, I, I command it." "Uhh... huh..." Orsin slurred, his eyes growing dim, his body settling. Snap. Orsin let out a long, warm sigh, his eyes rolling into his head. His body stilled, and his breathing became just a little louder. Xavis didn't know if the hypnosis would work like that. He knew the power of the mind to hold on to life could be very strong, but whether commanding a victim to 'not die' would do a damn thing in the end would -- Well, it would remain to be seen. In the worst case scenario, at least Orsin could die without pain. Die without pain. Die -- without -- pain. "Oh... oh, no... no, no, no..." Xavis put his bloodied hands up to his eyes and finally let himself go.

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Twenty One

This simple thought Repeating Over and over again

The next was the longest, coldest, and loneliest day of his life.

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Twenty Two

You and I Will simply disappear Out of sight But I'm afraid Soon there'll be No light

The second day was a little better. Above all else, Xavis had one fear, one fear worse than Orsin's death. It was Orsin's turning. The nature of how to turn a creature Icebrood was still poorly understood. Many of the norn believed it to be a conscious effort, a willful surrender to Jormag's strength; others maintained that only those with weak wills could be turned; still others believed that your mind had nothing to do with it, that if Jormag wanted you to be an Icebrood, you had no choice. The logical, rational part of his mind knew that if Orsin turned to one of those icebound creatures, that Xavis would have to drive the fire poker through the charr's heart, killing him lest he be killed. But the last two days had left him without the strength to fight. He didn't have the will to do that. His knowledge had left him, left him with nothing but hope and faith, things he had dismissed all his life as the crutch of a fool. He knew if Orsin rose up as some delirious ice zombie and went for his throat, Xavis would let him tear him apart. This surrender went against every bit of Ash and Legion and Orders training he had ever endured. But he didn't care about those right now. All he cared about was the dying charr on the bed beside him. When the dawn, or what passed for dawn, came on the second day, Xavis felt confident that Orsin would not turn. He was not as confident that Orsin would live. Infection had spread into the wound -- Xavis had no doubt the Icebrood's teeth had been crawling with disease -- and the room reeked of sickness. Xavis would clean up Orsin regularly throughout the day. The cabin had been left with bundles of clothing from the previous homeowners, and Xavis used these liberally. He had found some disinfecting sprays and a bundle of lye soap, and so he did what he could to keep the dying charr in a state resembling hygienic. He would bundle Orsin's waste into cloth bags, and when the bags got too full, he would go to the door, remove the blanket at the top, and squeeze the bags through the crack to get it out of the house. He took care of him as best he could. He studied what few books on medical training he could find. During the downtime, he would review each of the sides of the potion bottles in detail. No longer havng to rush, he could make more educated decision about which medicines to use, and when. But the hours went by, and Orsin did not improve.

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Twenty Three

I'm tired I'm thirsty I'm wild-eyed In my misery

On the fourth day, the wind stopped. Xavis had grown so accustomed to the distant, muffled howl of noise outside the cabin that the silence broke straight through his funk. He looked up, turned to the window over Orsin's bed, but he couldn't see anything. The snow had piled up against the pane of the window. He checked Orsin's pulse, then left the room, going for the kitchenette. He stood on his tiptoes, peering out the window at the world. It was growing light, and the clouds had seemed to part. The snow was too bright to let him see far, but he thought, if he squinted just right, he could barely make out a bit of blue between parting clouds. A tired smile crossed his face. He felt like he had waited decades for this sight, and now it felt meaningless. He turned on the sink, cupped some water, and brought it up to splash his face. He didn't want to think the thoughts coming into his mind, but they came nevertheless. If he dies, I'll set out for Hoelbrak. I'll stop by that hamlet he talked about, and ask around until I find somebody who knew -- here he shivered as pain stabbed into his gut. Somebody who knew him. I don't need to give them details. If they want to come out and bury him, they can. I'll make my way for Hoelbrak, and then I'll report back to work. Legionnaire first, Lightbringer second. I'll fill them in on the Svanir, give them a brief report of why I was MIA, and then I'll -- I guess I'll -- Xavis bent over the sink and retched, nearly losing his balance. He clung to the side of the sink, dry-heaved, and then threw up the rest of his stomach's contents. He sputtered, coughed, choked up a little more, spat a dozen times, and finally ended the ordeal with a long, sick groan. He stared at the mess in the sink, closed his eyes, and sighed. He turned the sink back on and watched it all go down the drain. He brought his hand up to his forehead. He didn't fight the urge to cry, but he didn't have to. His eyes were dry. He had nothing left. The last his body had to give was there, spiralling down the drain, and he watched it go with a forlorn expression. "This is all so fucked," he muttered. He took some water into his mouth, rinsed, spat. Water, rinse, spit. Water, rinse, spit. Orsin started coughing in the other room. Xavis turned off the sink, and looked out into the still land through the window. Then he went to go check on him.

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Twenty Four

You know me, I'm a nomad I can't feel bad about the way I am I've been rolling around my whole life You're my candlebright in the window

Xavis put a check on the calendar. It had been seven days since the Icebrood attacked. With Orsin incapacitated, it had fallen upon Xavis to keep track of the dates going by. It wasn't hard. The days were getting longer, and Xavis didn't sleep through any of them. He was hardly able to sleep at all. As soon as the light poured into the little room, he would get up, go to Orsin's side of the bed, and place a checkmark. Seven days since the attack. Fifty seven days since the blizzard started. Orsin had not awoken. Sometimes he would thrash a little, or he would babble in his sleep. One time, he had started crying out in rage and in sorrow, bellowing a word that sounded like a name, Markus. But he always settled back, and he never opened his eyes. The wind had picked up a little, but it hadn't snowed in days, and the valley cleared day by day. Sometimes, when Xavis would go to the kitchen, he would see patches of grass visible out on the front lawn. It was such a beautiful valley. He could see that now, without the snowstorm raging outside. This morning, he had heard the chirping of birds for the first time. He didn't know how they had survived the blizzard, or if they had all just known to come back as the winds died down. He had taken the blanket down from the table that was the door, and he let the birdsong fill the cabin. He had started reading again. Orsin's room was mostly too dark, but with the clouds parting more frequently and the sun streaking in through the window, Xavis could manage a few hours at a time, before the darkness settled back in and he resigned himself to another sad night spent staring at the corner, waiting for a sleep that never came. Over the course of his time in the cabin, he had gone through all of the books over the shelf. Some were better than others, but his favorite was still the first, the one they had read on one of his earliest nights. The Maiden and the Monster. He read this one out loud. He didn't have hope that this would bring snap Orsin out of his coma. Hope had left him days ago. He felt listless, without any greater purpose than to sit on this bed and wait for something to happen. But he read anyway. He read, because it was the only thing that brought him a modicum of comfort in this dark time. "You came back," Xavis read out loud, his voice a growl, before softening to the maiden's tone. "And she said to him, 'Of course I came back. Oh, this is all my fault, if only I'd gotten here sooner.' But he looked up at her, and he put his wolf's paw upon the side of her head, and he said, 'Maybe it's better this way.'" Xavis closed his eyes and breathed deep. When he opened them again, he continued. "'Don't talk like that!' she told him, the tears welling in her eyes. 'You'll be all right. We're together now, and everything's going to be fine. You'll see.' " "But the old wolf knew. He knew deep inside that these would be their final moments together. And he looked into her eyes, with kindness and love, and he whispered to her, 'But at least I got to see you, one last time.' His arm went slack, and she held his paw to her face, and she started to cry. 'No, no, no, please. Please, please don't leave me. Please.' She fell upon his chest, and she uttered these final words as she heard him breathe his last. 'I love you.'" Something touched Xavis's tail, and the mesmer looked up with a start. He turned, ready to swat at the first bug of the season, but he froze with his arm reared back. Orsin's hand was touching his tuft. Xavis looked up, and the big charr's eyes were pooled, crusty, but open. They were open. They were-- "Orsin!" Xavis cried out, and the book clattered to the floor. He clambored up onto the bed and hurried to his side. "Orsin, are you -- can you speak?" He opened his mouth, and he let out a quiet croaking sound. Xavis frowned, shaking his head. "I don't..." "Whhhhh... dhhhhh..." Xavis blinked. But as Orsin's lips moved, understanding dawned. "Right," he said. He reached for the glass of stale water by the bedpost. He slid one hand beneath Orsin's head, gently tipping his neck as he poured trickles of water into the big charr's maw. It hadn't been an easy task previously, with the hunter unconscious, but now Orsin drank greedily, his lips and teeth moving against the rim of the glass as he downed the entire contents, polishing it off with a loud sigh. "Heyyyy," he murmured sleepily, when Xavis had set the glass back aside. And the corners of his mouth pulled back, showing just the very tips of his frontmost teeth. He was smiling. Smodur's eye, he was smiling. "Guhhhd... morn-eeng." Xavis threw his hands around the big charr and squeezed him tight, prompting a couple weak chuckles punctuated by quiet "ow"s. "You're alive," Xavis spoke into the fluff of the big charr's matted chest. He let himself weep openly, because it felt so good to feel again. "Burn my sides, you're alive -- I thought, I didn't think -- I thought you were -- oh, hell, it doesn't matter what I thought, Orsin, you're alive!" Orsin chuckled again. He lifted his uninjured right arm and set his paw down upon Xavis's back. He let it rest there until Xavis was ready to lift himself back up. "All right," Xavis sniffed. He wiped his nose and eyes, then took a more authoritative posture. "You've got to be thirty and hungry, but I need to know one thing first. Don't try to move your left arm, but can you clench your left fingers?" Orsin took a bleary-eyed look at his shoulder, his brow knitted with concern. He seemed to think about it for a long time. Then he opened his mouth, seeming to recall what happened, and why he was here. "Lessee," he murmured, and the eyes of both charr went down to that big orange paw limp at his side. At first, there was no movement. Then Orsin grunted, and his middle finger twitched. Then the whole hand clenched slightly, then relaxed. "Hurts," he mumbled. Xavis nodded, but he seemed relieved. "The snow's stopped. When you think you'll be able to make it, we can get you fixed up at that hamlet. Once you're ready to make the hike. But I don't think you're going to lose the arm." Orsin peered at him. He blinked again, and the rusty gears in his hand clicked and snapped as he tried to process the Ash's words. His voice was a little stronger now, and he swallowed. "Snow's gone..?" Xavis nodded, paused, then said, "Well, it's still on the ground. But it hasn't snowed in three days. The wind had pushed a lot of it further into the valley. I haven't left the cabin, but it looks like it's less than a foot or so out." Orsin frowned, swallowed. He squinted, looking concerned. "You, go," he rumbled. It had started as a question, but ended as a firm statement. "Soon. I'll, I can... You need to go." Xavis inhaled deep. He looked down at his lap. He turned away from Orsin, setting his legs over the side of the bed. He set his back straight and brought the tips of his claws together over his thighs. "You remember what I said about me not owing you anything, Orsin?" Xavis didn't look back. He waited to hear assent from the orange charr, which took about ten seconds. "Uh huh." Xavis smiled, dropping his head. "Maybe you remember, on one of the first nights, I did say I owed you. I said, flat out, that I owed you my life. I guess I'm a bit of a hypocrite sometimes. Call it the mark of an Ash. Even the best of us can't keep our lies straight all the time." The pause was a little shorter this time. "You don't... owe me... Xavis." Xavis nodded at that, his eyes still low. "That's true in a sense, but not in another. I know I seem like I've had it all together, all this time, Orsin. Like I know so much about the world, and I'm coming down from on high to relay all this stuff to you. But I didn't know anything." No reply. Xavis knew this could wait. But he had to talk. He couldn't stop. "I don't owe you my life, Orsin. This isn't a matter of me owing you anything. My love for you isn't a debt I need to repay." His body felt so light. "It's something I'm giving you. Willingly. I'm willing to give up the world to have that choice, Orsin. I'm willing to let them have the world, healthy or rotten, they can have it. I don't owe you my life, but you've earned it, Orsin. You've earned it, and I've earned yours. And I'll take it, if you're still willing to give." Now Xavis turned, and Orsin was grinning, that wide, comfortable, perfect grin of his, and Xavis grinned back. The hunter beckoned him over with a soft "C'mere," and they came together. Xavis pushed against him, and Orsin pulled him in, squeezing him so tight the little charr might burst, but he didn't feel any pain. Pain was for the world outside these walls. Pain was for the world. There was no room for it anymore. There was no room for anything else anymore. Xavis was a small charr. He could only fit so much in. And there was so much that had been inside him, and he just didn't have the room anymore. Something had to leave, in order to fit the love in. So he let the pain go, and he never looked back.

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Epilogue

The ones who walk away Try to love again

"C'mon, hurry up!" "I'm comin', I'm comin'!" Xavis couldn't wait. The trees reminded him so much of Ascalon. Vibrant splashes of pumpkin and crimson drew tall between arrays of gold and auburn. The wind was chilly, and both charr had bundled up, but it was refreshing after an uncharacteristically long and, for the region, hot season of Phoenix. The mesmer breathed in deep, holding it, and then scurried the rest of the way up the hill. The view was everything Orsin had told him it would be. The hilltop stood at the edge of the valley, which stretched for mile upon mile. Countless acres of firs and pines stretched across the quiet land, rising and falling with the hills. They speckled the sides of mountains that hemmed the valley in, great spires of stone that shot proud toward the sky. Dagmar's Tooth, the mightiest among them, peaked among a white snowcap, shining proudly against the sky's backdrop. The sun fell against the rolling chain of the horizon, splashing a dazzling array of orange and purple, red and yellow, all the colors of the leaves on the changing trees and more, so much more, so many colors that Xavis had never seen, all spilling across the tops of trees in this quiet, lonely valley. It was so beautiful. He hadn't known anything could be so beautiful. There was so much he hadn't known. He felt wiser now. He had learned so much these last few months. But he had taught a few things too. Those, he was just as proud of. When Orsin showed him how to place a trap, Xavis showed him how to bind the rope tighter. As Orsin showed Xavis how to track, so did the smaller charr teach his mate how to move more silently, and how better to cover his tracks. Xavis had even started a little garden out back, growing butternush squash and little raspberries from seeds Orsin had picked up in town. Together, they secured more than enough food and supplies for the coming Colossus season, which was still months off. Xavis smiled. He was looking forward to it. He didn't often look forward to things anymore, not out of some lack of hope, but out of a desire to live in the moment, simply to exist, and to have faith that each day would be better than the last. And they were. Xavis closed his eyes. So much had happened, and it was still easier to reflect than to think of the future. Twice they had helped with organized raids on Svanir homesteads, and once they had done so as a solitary effort, unbeknownst to any of the hamlets in the region. It was the only way Xavis could reconcile turning his back on the Order, by helping to thwart the draconic influence in what little way he could. Turns out, it had ended up becoming a clever way to make a little coin too. Xavis always kept his face shrouded on those rare occasions when he went into town, but Orsin, shy, sweet Orsin, was learning how to talk with a little more confidence. He was something of a hero in the closest village. Xavis knew -- and Orsin did as well -- that most of his notoreity came from being one of the only charr willing to live in this landscape. 'Hero' was more a term of endearment than anything else. But he was likeable and jovial, and with Xavis's help, he was becoming more comfortable speaking with them every time he visited. The norn loved him. But not as much as I do, Xavis thought. He turned, looking over his shoulder at the puffing charr, who was just coming up the hill. "You've started putting on your winter weight too early," Xavis teased, reaching out and poking him in the leather over his stomach. He laughed, reaching his arm out and pulling Xavis in. "You're still skinny as a twig, one of us has to, to eat." Xavis smiled, put his head against the big charr's side, and they watched the sun go down. They stood for long minutes, until Orsin motioned for them to lay out the blanket and to set out the picnic they had prepared. Moa sandwiches, two thermoses of coffee, some chopped up potatos -- 'honorary meat', Orsin would call them -- and some raspberry tarts, using fruit fresh from their garden. Xavis parceled these out, giving Orsin more than twice his own share. The big charr had gotten over protesting the extra food Xavis shoved his way months ago, and he started to chow down. An hour passed, and the sky grew dark. The moon began to shine its pale light over the sprawling valley. Xavis could see all the stars of the sky, and he made a mental note to pick up a book on constellations next time they were out. One could never see the stars over the Citadel, not like this. When Orsin had finished, Xavis crawled over to his side. He leaned in, kissing the big charr on the cheek. "Just one thing left to do," he murmured, sliding his hand along his mate's inner thigh. Orsin wiped the raspberry from his maw, and he grinned. He grinned that big, familiar grin that Xavis still hadn't grown sick of. He hoped he never would. "Xavis, you remembered," the charr rumbled, seeming just as pleased by the little charr remembering as he was by his touch. "But you know I don't have fantasies no more. I don't need them now that I have you." "I know." Orsin started to look around, to ensure they weren't being watched, but Xavis pulled his muzzle toward his own kissed him. Orsin closed his eyes and sank into his mate's maw. He wrapped his arms around him and held him to his body. They fell upon each other, overlooking the desolate, wild valley that would forever be their home.

The end

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Afterword

165 pages is a lot. I knew going in this would be long, but I didn't think it would end this long. It's hard to count exactly how many hours went in to this, so let's just stick with 'many'. But I don't mind. This is the story I've wanted to write for a long time. I can safely say this has been the most fun I've had writing in many years. This story is something I've had in the back of my head for years now, and some bits and pieces even precede Guild Wars 2. I've been concerned that the sheer length of this story, which is longer than some novels, will be too much for a lot of readers. Some may skip some of the dialogue or the less, shall we say, climactic moments. That's all right by me. While to me, the parts with clothes on are every bit as important as those without, it's not my place to tell a person how to enjoy what I'm written. All I really hope is that you have enjoyed it, and feel it was worth the time commitment. I'd like to say thanks to a few people. First, thank you to Tacitus, without whom I don't think this story would exist. Kasik and Tass are very different than Xavis and Orsin, and their stories are not at all the same, yet there are some unmistakeable parallels and direct inspirations drawn. Taci taught me what love in Tyria means, and while I don't know if he'll ever read this -- some things hit too close to home to be enjoyable, I can appreciate that more than anybody -- I cherish what he's given me more than I can say. Thank you to Bruno, fellow bear enthusiast and all around good-hearted person. As the cover artists, he has helped bring Xavis and Orsin to life. His character Teddy was also an inspiration for some of the ways in which Orsin acts, and Xavis has more than a little Argan in him too. Thank you to RamuneDrink, for believing I could finish this even when I got down on myself, or felt despair about how it would be received. He told me that it doesn't matter if it's the story that I want to write, and that made me less afraid. Thank you to benj24. He doesn't know me, but his art has been a huge inspiration toward making the chapter on tickling click into place. A lot of the physical descriptions were things I imagined him drawing, and I think I wouldn't have been able to write the chapter at all without his work. Thank you to Stephen King, my favorite author, who has taught me the elements of what makes a story good. He drives his stories forward with dialogue and character, trusting his audience to not sweat the small stuff. I've never been one for details; I find it difficult to write flowery prose, and I'm not much for reading it either, and I think King gets that. I don't think he'd have a very high opinion of gay charr banging, but, well, thanks anyway, Stephen. Thank you to Stevie Nicks. Besides actually sleeping with men, my infatuation with Stevie's music is probably the gayest thing about me. Each of the italicized introductions to each chapter are references to her music. The first ten are lyrics from "Bella Donna" in ascending order; the latter thirteen are from "Trouble in Shangri-La" in descending, with a brief break for "Thrown Down" around what I consider to be the climax of the story. Stevie has been a wonderful influence my entire life. I hope she never, ever finds this story. And finally, and most importantly, thank you for reading. I do cherish comments, favs, notes, all that good stuff. But when it comes down to it, it's just enough to be heard. Keep on rocking. ~Sam