The
dragon had been a thing of beauty. Killing it
made him feel more like a butcher than a
hero. But that was what they did; a job, like
any other.
Blue
and golden scales armored its back and sides,
colorful razors edged with slow poison that
attacked the mind before the body. The
leathery belly seemed both rougher and softer
than the rest; Jusstin touched it curiously
afterwards, intrigued by the glowing citrine
hide.
It felt
like spined velvet. He wished he could have a
jacket made from it, but that of course was
impossible. For one thing, he hadn't the
power to draw it forth from this world into
the next. For another, Kel always got so
excited when they killed something. Kel
slashed the beast to ribbons at the end; even
the patch Jusstin stroked was only a couple
of hands wide. The rest was black smoking
blood and huge gobbets of acrid meat.
No
jacket today, and he needed a new one,
dammit! Well, he tried not to dwell on
impossible things anymore. He was grateful
for what he had. These days, what he had was
more than enough.
He
turned to the tall blond and smiled a little.
Even mottled with stinking blood, stained up
to the armpits with mud and worse things, Kel
still took his breath away. Hair a stream of
melted ice-metal, eyes rich chocolate coffee.
Light and dark spun into a combination of
sheer wonder.
I'm
such a romantic, he thought.
"Let's
fuck," Kel said breathlessly, grabbing
him around the waist. So much for romance!
He
wasn't sure how fighting together against the
Dark had turned into a relationship; sexual
yes, but also tender and deep. Friendship had
happened swiftly and would have been enough,
but somehow a little extra had occurred
without either of them intending it at all.
But he wasn't complaining---not in the least!
"Wash
first," he reminded sternly, pushing
away. He was a bit grubby too. The last
strike, under the dragon's armpit with the
magic dagger known as Stormbringer, had
baptized him with poison blood. If he'd
remembered to shove a few empty bottles in
his pack, the tar-thick stuff could have been
gleaned for its magical properties. As usual
when Kel was the one suggesting the outing,
Jusstin had been too rushed to even *bring* a
pack. Ah, well.
Kel
stared down at the small dark man hungrily.
"I don't care about---all right, all
right. You're a wizard. Cleaning spell?"
"This
scenario we're both warriors. You wanted it
that way. No magic, no cleaning spell. We
walk to the lake. Not that far."
Kel
growled, and tried to draw him closer. He
wanted to give in. Could have given in, so
easily.
Instead,
he stared back implacably. Pale blue eyes in
a dusky face---curly black hair, a dancer's
body. He had his own agenda, for himself as a
warrior. Not a tank---a ninja. -He heard Kel
swallow, and smiled to himself. "We walk
to the lake, take a bath. Then sex.
Agreed?"
Kel
wasn't happy at all. "We started this as
a game, right? I thought the rules were made
to be broken?" Ah, he was using his soft
persuasive voice. The voice that always
worked when he needed a project completed on
time.
Jusstin
wanted to give in, and badly. Feel Kel's
teeth in his throat, his mindless hunger
after a successful kill. Instead his long,
six-fingered hand came up to press against
his lover's half-armored chest. "Funny
to hear you say that. These are *my* rules,
not yours. Anyway, I've broken some already.
If I hadn't, you'd be beaten up, dead, every
bone in your body shattered, dead, too tired
to think of sex at all---"
Kel
burst into breathless laughter. Jusstin felt
the long, powerful arms envelop him, and
automatically raised his face for a kiss.
"And DEAD!" his lover intoned, and
they both started laughing.
"D
and D," Juss agreed breathlessly.
"Dead and Depraved."
They
kissed. It was lengthy as possible, ardent,
flickering tongues and gently controlled
passion. Kel drew him close, and he cast the
cleaning spell just as he knew he would. It
wasn't a quick strip-you-clean, more like a
warm shower. Not even a cheat, really; just a
rinse. A harmless rinse.
He
managed, in the hot sweet rush that was
Kel-determined-to-have-sex, to transport them
to a different place. A place filled with
warmth, flowers, waterfalls. Once he broke
the wizard rule in a small thing, to expand
the breakage to something further was not so
bad.
"I
want you to fuck me next time," Kel
whispered when it was over, with another
quick kiss. "Will you?"
"Maybe."
Actually the thought made Jusstin iron-hard
again, giddy, nearly out of control.
"Let's see what happens."
"In
the real world, I mean," Kel said, and
Juss stalled and stared. Began to shake his
head, concentration unraveling at such an
insane suggestion...
Their
minds, winding together over the months they
came to understand one another, had learned
also to recognize danger. They both knew the
instant the disrupting voice came. They could
pull back, adjust their expressions. Protect
what they had.
From
that worst of monsters, Reality.
"Jon!----Um,
Mr. Kelson? Lunch break's almost over. You
know you've got a meeting at 1:30,
right?"
"Um---yeah.
Thanks, Lynn, I'll be there."
Jon
Kelson shook his head slightly, then looked
up and smiled brightly at his secretary.
She
smiled back, then frowned at the small, dark
man huddled near her boss at the table in the
rather shabby lunchroom. They'd been sitting
together for the whole lunch hour, barely
talking and barely eating either, far as she
had noticed. Weird. Most employees didn't
bother with sack lunches, except for
new-hires. There were plenty of excellent
restaurants in the area. But Mike had always
eaten here since he was hired two years ago.
That wasn't so surprising, he was a social
retard. But now he'd dragged Jon into his
World of the Weird!
She
really didn't understand why the president of
the company always took lunch with the mail
guy, rather than picking up on all the
invitations to dine with clients as he used
to. In fact, she'd bluntly asked that
question once. Got a startled look, then a
sweet quirky smile and the remark,
"Well---I like to mess with his head---I
mean, I like the way he *thinks*, Lynn."
Like
the way he thinks. Well, maybe. The guy had
to have something going; no one could like
his looks! Grungy, long-hair freak. Why she'd
taken pity and hired him straight out of
rehab, she'd never know. And she'd never stop
regretting it, either.
She'd
watched them huddle together over their
sandwiches every day, scribbling furiously in
a notebook they passed back and forth. She'd
thought it was something to do with work
until Mike dropped a scrap of paper on the
lunch table as he hurried belatedly back to
his cubicle. She'd not taken it of course,
just glanced at it as she went to make
coffee. Much good it did her! The man's
handwriting was clear and precise, partly why
she'd hired him. But the words made no sense.
"Important!...dragons
are impervious to magic, only physical
strikes take a toll, and only from the
strongest warriors. But there's a type of
poison that affects them, made from the
bloodfish that haunt the North of Khesh
strangely enough..."
She'd
stared at this crazed fragment in bafflement
and mild disgust (was the lazy jerk writing a
book in his spare time? Good thing, since his
day job was in peril!). Then she noticed the
quick scrawl beneath it and things all fell
into horrible place.
"Kel---level
65 now, and finds a named elf-bow in a drop.
Lucky bastard. He may catch me soon if I'm
not careful..."
Oh my
God, she thought, relief warring with true
horror. They're not doing drugs together, or
sharing office secrets, or involved in some
dark plot or nameless relationship she didn't
understand.
In
fact, she understood all too well now.
The
silly jerks were spending lunch playing
Dungeons and Dragons together, like brainless
twerps from the '80's. And she was pretty
sure that Mr. Kelson had been suckered into
the game somehow, he was like a big kid at
times! But he wouldn't welcome her
interference until his addiction had run its
course.
Now,
she glanced at her former charity case and
grimaced. He was staring at the top of the
lunch table, expressionless to the point of
idiocy. His very pale blue eyes in his dusky
face were, well, a little creepy. "You
still helping with the collation for the B of
A project, Mike?" she inquired, somewhat
brusquely. "Because frankly, we're
getting behind."
She
couldn't say much more, with Jon still in the
lunchroom. Standing there, brushing sandwich
crumbs from his dark suit and grinning a
little as if inviting her to share some joke.
She thought she could cheerfully fire Michael
St. Juss for laziness. Or for no reason at
all. He spooked her out. But she'd probably
get sued for it, just because he was a gimp.
And the
boss had a soft spot for him. Probably, for
that same reason, aside from this gaming
dementia! It made her ass ache. Mike didn't
even bother to dress for an office. Jeans
most of the time. Disabled or not, he didn't
need to be scruffy!
Michael
finally tracked on her, and nodded in his
usual absent manner. "Don't worry; I'm
on it." But he took his time, gathering
up his trash and depositing it, collecting
his cane. Giving Mr. Kelson a look from under
his eyelids that she frankly found
disrespectful. "Next time," he said
firmly.
Mr.
Kelson stood up straighter, gave the fellow a
stare. "You're kidding," he said,
flatly. His dark eyes stared hotly at the
younger man. Perhaps Mike had finally gone
too far and he was about to be canned?
Instead
of looking worried, he smiled.
"Promise," he stated, in a firm
voice that Lynn wouldn't have minded hearing
when asking him if the mail sorting would be
done by such and such a time.
Apparently
it meant something to their boss. He smiled;
that wonderful, incandescent smile that could
light up boardrooms and inspire employees.
Including her, dammit to hell.
"What
happened to rules, Juss?" he observed,
with a wicked sparkle.
Michael
St. Juss gave him a sweet smile, then tossed
Lynn one too. A more complex expression,
barbed with dislike. Fair enough, she
disliked him too! But she didn't much care
for his negligent reply to the man who paid
his salary!
"Oh,
like you said," he drawled. "Rules
are made to be broken."
