Kilig & Hakeem

by Barbara G. Tarn

  Kilig taught him the use of the silken noose and the triple-blade dagger, and his admiration for the young man grew. When they slept side by side on the floor of the cabin, Hakeem's body was a warmth he had long forgotten in the loneliness of the past fifteen years. Yes, he'd had occasional partners, but hadn't realized he'd missed waking up next to the same person for days on end.

  One morning he awoke with his nose in Hakeem's hair, his arm around Hakeem's body, his front against Hakeem's back. Startled, he pulled away and noticed a ray of sun touching Hakeem's shoulder and peacefully asleep profile.

  Kilig hesitated, then his hand moved again to pass over Hakeem's arm, close enough to feel the bodily heat, but not enough to touch, light like a feather along the relaxed muscles and towards the narrow hips.

  Slowly, he went back up to follow the clean-shaven cheek and curling black hair, and Hakeem moved his ass to touch Kilig's groin, which made him hard – the firm buttocks felt good against him, but he gasped in surprise.

  Hakeem smiled and slowly opened his eyes.

  "I'm yours, Acharya Kilig," he whispered, pressing his whole back against Kilig's body.

  Kilig pulled away, jarred, and rolled on his back to stare at the wooden ceiling.

  "You don't know what you're asking," he grumbled.

  Hakeem rolled over to face him, his green eyes staring at him. "I know exactly what I'm asking," he replied. "Why do you think I'm still unmarried at my age? I broke my mother's heart when she realized I had no interest whatsoever in girls."

  Kilig scoffed. Served her well. Her son was like his father. "So how many male lovers did you have?"

  Hakeem shrugged. "Just one. And we barely kissed. I was very ashamed afterward, but it was no big deal for my father. He told me I should feel free to follow my inclinations – which didn't please my mother, but she couldn't force me."

  "Did your father include sex with men in his training?" Kilig asked, sarcastic.

  "No, but he probably expected you to take care of that part." Hakeem flashed his smile before offering his neck in submission. "Take me, Kilig. I know you want me."

  Hakeem's hand touched Kilig's hard-on, but Kilig slapped it away, clenching his teeth and staring straight ahead.

  Control. I will not touch him. I will not seduce him like his father seduced me.

  Hakeem sighed. Kilig could still feel the warm body next to his.

  Fuck control. I want him, and he wants me.

  Without thinking further, he rolled over Hakeem, grabbed his head and kissed him hungrily. Gods, he tastes good! And the beardless face was so nice to explore with his lips and tongue while Hakeem gasped for breath...

  Kilig pulled back, trying to regain control. Hakeem was panting, his green eyes wide with desire. Kilig smiled.

  "I never kissed a beardless man before," he said with a grin.

  Hakeem caressed his clean-shaven cheek. "And did you enjoy it?"

  "Very much. It was strange not feeling facial hair."

  "I sure hope you'll keep shaving, unlike my father..." Hakeem smiled.

  "You bet," Kilig promised, stamping another kiss on the lovely lips.

  "Mm..." Hakeem pursed his lower lip. "I already got to that part. Will you show me the rest or what?"

  Kilig grabbed Hakeem's buttock and squeezed. "You think you're ready?"

  Hakeem nodded. "I told you, I'm yours..." Again he offered his neck in submission and Kilig covered it with butterfly kisses while his hands roamed the young man's body.

  Gods, Saif, who is seducing who? I bet you knew what you were doing when you bestowed your son on me...

  ***

  Hakeem moaned in pleasure and gasped for breath. Behind the grouchy exterior, Kilig was sweeter than expected. Everything he had dreamed of for a few years now came true in Kilig's arms. Kilig's fingers probed his opening, but there was no penetration.

  "Won't you fuck me?" Hakeem asked, panting and holding Kilig tight.

  "You're not ready," Kilig replied. "My dick is bigger than my fingers."

  "I don't care, I..."

  Kilig closed his mouth and took his breath away again with a long kiss.

  "You should have realized by now you don't need penetration to feel pleasure," Kilig said then, stroking Hakeem's hair.

  Hakeem was indeed hard again, and he had already come once – in Kilig's mouth. He moaned in protest, but Kilig kept touching him, sending shivers of pleasure throughout his whole body. He never thought his father's former lover could give him so much sensual gratification.

  After he came again, he lay still in Kilig's arms, his head on Kilig's chest to listen to his heartbeat. His own heart was still beating too fast from the intensity of what he'd just experienced, so he waited quietly until he felt almost drowsy.

  He looked up to see if Kilig had dozed off and noticed he was widely awake – and frowning, as if repenting doing what he'd just done.

  "Kilig?" he called tentatively.

  "What?" Kilig snapped.

  "Can I ask you something... about your training?"

  Kilig looked away, then grumpily nodded.

  "Did my father include what we just did in your training?"

  "Yes." Kilig sounded sour. "It was actually the best part of it."

  Hakeem chuckled. "It is indeed!"

  "Hakeem, don't ever fall in love with your acharya. He will always break your heart," Kilig warned bluntly.

  "I'm sure you won't break mine." Hakeem squeezed Kilig's torso, lightly kissing Kilig's nipple.

  "Hakeem, you don't know me," Kilig chided.

  "Well... why don't you tell me your story? Where did you meet my father? Why did he take you on as apprentice?"

  Kilig sighed. "You really want to know?"

  "Yes!" Hakeem nodded eagerly, then laid his cheek on his hand, so he'd be able to look at Kilig's face while he talked. His hand lingered on the hairless, scarred torso as he waited for Kilig to gather his memories.

  "I was born in the slums of Godwalkar, very far from the beautiful Genn palace that always looked like an unattainable vision until I was a child. I was fifth of ten children, and my parents made ends meet with odd jobs, including selling their children to rich perverts for an hour of pleasure or two. I lost my virginity at twelve to a noblewoman who could have been my grandmother. My boyish looks attracted mostly women and my basic instincts were quite happy with pleasing them. I couldn't keep any of the money I earned – when I used some to buy some food, my father beat the shit out of me. He was feeding me and I should have brought all the money home."

  Hakeem gasped in shock. "Were you hungry or...?"

  "I bought a pastry," Kilig answered sourly. "My gluttony cost me a week of bruises and nobody wanted me. My father almost starved me as punishment."

  "And then?" Hakeem frowned in worry. He hadn't had a happy childhood – feeling some tension between his parents and being an only child – but it hadn't been a bad as Kilig's after all.

  "I was a slave of my father's whim – both me and my siblings," Kilig continued with a flat tone. "And then one day he beat my little brother to death. I tried to help and got my own beating. And then a bearded man stopped him before he killed me as well and said, 'Never hurt a child, or a woman'."

  "My father?" Hakeem asked, brightening. He had heard Saif say that sentence often enough.

  Kilig scoffed. "Yes, Hakeem. Your father killed mine and saved the rest of the family from more exploitation. My mother was dead by then, and my surviving siblings were grateful. But I was the most grateful. I started following him everywhere. I wanted to be like him. I soon found out what he was, and asked him to take me on. But he already had an apprentice at the time, so he turned me down. He left town. I was still Karuna the Sorrowful, and didn't know what to do with myself."

  "Kilig is not your real name?" Hakeem asked, puzzled.

  "It is now." Kilig glanced at him. "When you're ready, you'll also receive an assassin's name. Probably another variation of sword, like Kilig or Saif. You might wa
nt to use your father's name, he has quite a reputation and it's your right to continue in his footsteps."

  "Keep telling." Hakeem was fascinated by the discoveries. "When did you meet him again?"

  "I was fifteen when he came back to Godwalkar, alone. His apprentice had disappointed him and he'd dropped him somewhere without completing his training. That's when he took me on. He became my mentor, my lover, my everything – until you and your mother crossed our path."

  "I'm sorry," Hakeem apologized. "I wasn't aware of any of this."

  "I'm not blaming you – never did. But one thing I learned that your father never taught me. Don't fall in love. Not in this profession. And stay away from women."

  "Oh, I will!" Hakeem assured. "And I'm already in love with you..."

  Kilig slapped him, startling him. "Don't fall in love with your acharya," he said in a low and threatening voice. "This is my rule, and you will stick to it. Hear me?"

  Hakeem nodded, massaging his stinging cheek. "But we can have sex?" he dared to ask.

  "You obviously don't fully know your body yet, and that's part of the training. Control your urges, don't beg for things." Kilig's voice was stern now – he was obviously back in control, but Hakeem doubted he was so controlled when he'd made love to him.

  Kilig took a deep breath. "I will teach you. I will teach you everything. And when you're ready, I'll give you your assassin's name and we'll go separate ways."

  "You won't help me avenge my father?" Hakeem asked, disappointed. "The man who turned the Sorrowful into the Sword is nothing to you after he broke your heart?"

  Kilig glared at him. "Yes, I will help you, but then we will part."

  Hakeem lowered his eyes. "As you wish, Acharya Kilig."

  For now. I'll change your mind...

  ***

  In spite of what he'd told Hakeem, Kilig strained to control himself after tasting Hakeem's body. The gorgeous youth appealed to him even more than his father ever did, touching other sides of him he didn't know existed. All he wanted was to curl up in a bed with Hakeem and forget the world.

  Except he couldn't. But he went harder on Hakeem during their training sessions, hoping to scare him away. Hakeem never complained, although sometimes his eyes were silently chiding him. Even when he offered his body for sex he didn't say anything, but a growing adoration gleamed in his eyes.

  Eventually they left the cabin in the woods. They'd gathered Saif's ashes in a wooden box and planned to take his mortal remnants back south. Even if Saif had spent the final years of his life in the northern Blackmore Kingdom, he was still a southerner inside. Kilig had no idea where exactly he came from, so they decided to leave the ashes at Godwalkar's main temple.

  Kilig waited impatiently as Hakeem silently said good-bye to his home, then they headed back south, mostly sleeping under the stars and hunting for food, avoiding the little villages on their way where they'd look conspicuous – two foreigners traveling together weren't exactly invisible like assassins should be. And since they were not in a hurry, they kept away from the main roads.

  Kilig felt weird in his new position of teacher and trainer. He knew exactly what Hakeem was going through – already so hopelessly in love with him – and wondered if that was how Saif had felt with him. No, Saif had always been very affectionate with him and often repeated he loved him. That was why it had hurt so much when Saif had dumped him to go with the mother of his child.

  Kilig always made sure he never said anything sweet to Hakeem, so he wouldn't nurture his illusion. He couldn't see himself spending his life with the gorgeous young man who made his blood run wild. The passion was too hot, the attraction between them too strong, it couldn't possibly last forever.

  He also had an idea of who could have killed Saif. His mentor had told him about his cruel apprentice Abhaya the Fearless who wanted to specialize in poisoned weapons after realizing he wasn't too good with the noose. Both Saif and Kilig – and the whole Assassins' Guild – thought poisoned weapons were cowardly and unfair. Be it a blade or a blowgun with poisoned darts, it wasn't the way of honorable assassins.

  But Hakeem refused to tell him the name of his father's killer, so Kilig could only stick to Saif's son until he found out who the culprit was. He didn't mention his suspicions to Hakeem as they went south, continuing the training even if he felt the young man didn't really need it.

  Hakeem was strong, swift and nimble, he'd be the perfect assassin. Kilig better not grow too fond of him. Assassins were bound to work alone.

  ***

  "Karuna" meant also the Compassionate, and Hakeem could see Kilig's compassion in spite of his efforts of keeping it hidden. The acharya was testy and blunt, but he had a heart of gold, the true bearer of Saif's skills.

  After being tested and tried and slightly abused, Hakeem realized his training was already complete when his father had died – except for the sex part. Kilig taught him patience and control, and deep inside Hakeem felt they were destined to be together forever, which eased his sorrow for the loss of his beloved father. Spending the rest of his life with Kilig sounded wonderful, although he'd have to win over Kilig's resistance to feelings.

  At the moment it was still Kilig leading the game, but Hakeem knew they were meant for each other and eventually Kilig would relent. If he didn't beg and resisted the prodding to discover his father's killer's name...

  They reached Godwalkar, former capital of the now fallen Kingdom of Gajendra, and Hakeem stared wide-eyed at the tall buildings and towers around him. Hurlevent was mostly little houses except for the two-story inns of the waterfront, and certain palaces of Godwalkar looked huge to him.

  "Why would anyone want such a big house?" he asked, baffled.

  "Status symbol," Kilig replied. "The more wealth, the bigger the palace."

  "And where did you grow up?"

  "The slums are further south, on the river's edge. This is actually the biggest town of the world, and it's still expanding, in spite of the fall of its king. Look!"

  Kilig pointed at the blue sky, and Hakeem gaped. Three winged human forms were gliding towards a slightly different big building.

  "Those are Sila up there, visiting the Genn. That palace over there hosts the whole Genn community of Godwalkar, their school, their library, everything," Kilig explained. "And since there's a Genn governor at the moment, they also run the town from there."

  "And do they have a hospital as well?" Hakeem asked, amazed. He'd meet members of the Magical Races, who possessed real magic! If only his father had sent for a Genn healer, maybe he'd still be alive...

  "Not really, but if you want a real healer, that's where you should go."

  They stopped at the main temple to leave the box of ashes in the crypt and say a short prayer for Saif's soul, then kept walking towards the center of the town.

  "Is there a seat of the Assassins' Guild?" Hakeem asked.

  "That's where we're headed. They have cheap rooms for members. Single rooms."

  "Oh." Hakeem felt disappointed. "Are you dumping me?"

  Kilig grinned. "You're not an assassin yet. Apprentices sleep on their acharya's floor."

  "Not in their bed?" Hakeem insisted with a propitiatory smile.

  "We'll see. You will have to pay for the privilege."

  "Pay... how? I have no money."

  "You won't need it," Kilig assured him, giving him an appreciative look that made him blush. He wished he could kiss Kilig right there and then, but he knew he wasn't allowed.

  They reached a big two-story building and were let into a cloistered inner courtyard. The doorkeeper greeted Kilig as if he knew him well, and told him his usual room was taken, therefore he should pick another further down the corridor.

  Kilig thanked him and went to the first floor to drop his travel bag. Hakeem noticed there was a bed that could easily fit two people in the "single" room Kilig had chosen.

  "I will sleep on the floor?" he asked with an impish smile.

  "I haven't decided yet." Kili
g was all business again. "Fancy a bath? Then we can grab a bite at the canteen and settle the matter."

  "Sure." Hakeem dropped his own travel pouch, grabbed a clean tunic, and followed Kilig back downstairs where thermal water flew into narrow pools, and smaller bathtubs were available for private baths.

  Kilig grabbed a towel at the entrance of the bath and headed for a pool. Hakeem followed. They washed and shaved, barely socializing with the few other men present, then dressed and went to the canteen, dropping their dirty clothes in the laundry room.

  They were served stew and cider with a salad and a loaf of dark bread. Again, there wasn't much conversation going on.

  "Being an assassin is a lonely profession," Kilig said. "That's why I recommend not falling in love."

  "But you did fall in love, Acharya Kilig," Hakeem replied.

  "Yeah, and it broke my heart and almost ended my life at an early age," Kilig snapped. "Your training is complete, we will part soon – as soon as we avenge your father's death."

  Hakeem decided not to comment on that. You won't get rid of me that easily, Kilig. But I'm not telling you yet.

  Their meal over, they went back to their room.

  "So, floor or bed?" Hakeem asked.

  "It depends," Kilig stared at him. "Will you tell me your father's killer's name?"

  "No." Hakeem locked his hands behind his back and lowered his eyes. He loved those skirmishes that ended up with both of them naked.

  "No?" Kilig stepped forward and took him in his arms. "Your training is complete, Hakeem, and you asked for my help."

  "I'm not telling you, or you'll go kill him yourself," Hakeem replied as their bodies adhered indecently.

  Kilig's hand slipped inside his pants and cupped his buttock, squeezing. "You're going to tell me," Kilig whispered before kissing him and holding him tight.

  "Or...?" Hakeem asked, breathless, feeling his hardness against Kilig's.

  "Or I'm going to fuck you blind," Kilig answered, and then started sucking his earlobe.

  Hakeem moaned with pleasure. "Please do!" he begged, throwing his arms around Kilig's neck. "I'm yours, do what you want with me!"