by Jude Sierra
“Like I said,” River mumbled into damp skin, “thank you.”
IV
Yong
To become more
Chapter Thirty-Nine
The unmarred skin of Erik’s chest looked strange and blank compared to the rest of him. He glanced from the mirror to where the black stitches had decorated his side. They’d been removed this morning, leaving behind a raised, dark scar. His arm was covered in ink—the watercolor Ouroboros around his bicep, the Imugi that snaked over his forearm and onto his hand. The Svara coiled over his shoulder blade and around his side. The praying hands on one hip bone, the rose on the other. He flexed his hands, and the letters on his knuckles moved.
Erik turned his head and glanced at the side of his throat not covered in ink. Another dragon would sit there at some point, but for now, his chest was the place he kept going back to. It’d been empty for a long time, hollow and cold, but now, in a rainy city with River, Erik had decided that emptiness didn’t suit him.
How could it? Erik’s life was brimming with possibility, and finally, after years of wondering whether or not he was worthy of it, he loved someone who loved him back.
His phone buzzed on the sink. He grabbed it and paused to look at his lock screen, a picture of him and River, back at Little Si, greening forest lush behind them. He slid his finger across the screen. A second later, Beverly’s face appeared.
“Oh my God, put a shirt on,” Beverly teased. Her lips were mauve, eyes rimmed in black and dusted with silver shadow. “Are you primping? You’re totally primping.”
Erik smoothed texturizer into his hair. “Don’t knock a guy for giving a shit, Bev. What’re you up to?”
“We’re at the Space Needle. Seattle’s pretty from way up here.” She pointed her phone toward a long, circular window, then flipped it back around. “We still on for dinner tonight?”
“Yeah, after my tattoo appointment. I’m thinking seven, but we might run a little late.”
“We? Does that mean the boy with the cute name is still putting up with you?” she teased.
Erik shook his head and smothered a bashful grin. “Yeah, River’s still around. Says he knows a place downtown with an herbivore-friendly menu, too.”
“Cool, just send me the address, and I’ll meet you guys there. Is that all that’s on the agenda for today? Tattoo and dinner?”
“Maybe drinks,” Erik offered.
Beverly smiled at him, but a text popped up at the top of his screen. He glanced at it and caught the time.
“Shit, I gotta go, but I’ll send you the address as soon as I get to Styx, all right?”
“Sure—hey, Erik,” she said suddenly. She paused, watching him with warm eyes and a soft smile. “Don’t disappear on me again, okay?”
Erik let out a long, deep breath. “I won’t, Bev. See you tonight.”
“Yeah, see you then.”
The call ended. Erik sat with it for a moment, replaying how Beverly said his name, carefully, the way she used to when they were younger. His phone buzzed again.
Desiree: You got plans today?
Erik: Tat appointment
Desiree: After?
Erik: dinner with a friend
Desiree: A friend that isn’t me or Jadis? I didn’t know you had any
Erik: Fuck ooooffffff. It’s Bev. She’s only in town for a few more days
Desiree: I’m kidding have fun. See you tomorrow
Erik set his phone down and pulled on a black tank, turning to look at the almost complete work on his arm, a cluster of dragons and colors and fights. He gripped the sink until his knuckles whitened, the Imugi’s scales moving as his tendons did, claws extended and teeth bared.
Imugis aren’t as powerful as they could be, so they create storms and chase after falling stars, hoping to catch one.
He hadn’t caught a falling star. River had struck him like a comet, speeding and spinning and glowing. Erik hadn’t been prepared for the dizzying aftermath, but whether Erik had caught him or not, River was there, he was still there, weathering Erik’s storm.
River’s existence was tangible proof of Erik’s wish.
River loving him was what happened after that wish was granted.
His nostrils flared around a short sigh. Erik’s reflection looked back at him, eyes clear, skin free of bruises. The scar on his cheek was a tiny blemish and the line across his lip, a thin pink scar, was all that remained of his last fight. At first, he didn’t recognize himself. He’d carried bruises for long enough that being without them felt alien.
An itch to fight twitched in his knuckles, the remnant of a past life that he would and wouldn’t re-live. Fighting was in his blood, but punishment didn’t need to be. Not anymore.
Dragons were meant for skies, he thought.
Watermarked: You on your way?
Wolfbite013: Yeah be there in ten
Watermarked: bring me coffee?
Wolfbite013: wooooowwww needy
Watermarked: oh please. and a scone
Wolfbite013: fine I’ll bring you coffee and a scone. Make it fifteen
…
Erik walked through the front doors at Styx and was met by the sight of River leaning over the front desk, chatting with Cheyenne. A loose gray shirt hung over his shoulders, and dark-wash jeans hugged his legs. Erik took a moment to look, trailing his gaze across River’s back before River met his eyes over his shoulder.
“I’m the needy one?” River teased. He straightened as Erik stepped into his space. He took the coffee cup Erik offered and pressed his lips to Erik’s for a quick, light kiss.
Erik smirked. “I got you an orange cranberry scone.”
Heels clicked on the floor, and a soft, windy sigh cut through the lobby. “That’s mine,” Cheyenne sang, and snatched the bag out of Erik’s hand. Her fire-truck–red lips split into a grin. “Thanks, honey.”
“Oh.” Erik arched a brow, one shoulder lifting into a shrug. “Well, you’re welcome.”
“We’ve met a few times, but ya know”—she wagged her head—“professional courtesy and all. It’s nice to see you again.”
He nodded. “Yeah, nice to see you, too.”
Cheyenne popped a piece of the scone in her mouth. Her hair was curled into spirals, pinned and fixed on the back of her head. “Here for another dragon?”
“Yeah, actually.” Erik’s gaze flicked to River. “Do we have enough time for a chest piece?”
River’s brows shot up. He glanced at Erik’s chest and then back to his face. “I don’t have anyone else scheduled today, so yeah. But we’re doing a dragon?”
“I won my last fight.”
“On a technicality. You got stabbed,” River said, stifling a laugh and covering his mouth.
“Yikes.” Cheyenne shot a grimace at Erik and nodded toward the front desk. “That’s a story I’d love to hear, but I’ve got a client in ten minutes. Catch you later, Erik.”
“Yeah, see you around,” Erik said.
River narrowed his eyes and prodded Erik in the chest. “A dragon, huh? One to protect you from knife-wielding lunatics or—”
Erik shouldered him playfully. “Not quite. C’mon, I’ll show you at your station.”
They walked into the back and sat down. River’s station was already stocked with ink and supplies. A few new sketches were tacked to the wall—an exploding flower, a skull blooming out of a rose, a few geometric animals.
River scooted forward in his seat. His warm hand slid over Erik’s thigh. “So?”
Erik passed River his phone, lit up with a picture. The dragon was red and gold, long and powerful, and had a bright, round sphere clutched in his talons.
“A Yong,” Erik said.
River glanced at him curiously.
Erik pulled his arms out of his jacket, stripped off his shirt, and tapped on the place above his heart. “Right here.”
Chapter Forty
River swallowed against a rising tide of emotions and a tightening in his throat
. “And where will this thing go?” He pointed to the gold sphere in the dragon’s claws. “Because I’m not tattooing your nipple.”
Erik poked his arm. “Definitely not my nipple,” he said through a laugh.
River tucked Erik’s smile away, safekeeping it for later.
“Good,” River said. He closed his eyes and squeezed Erik’s thigh. He knew what a Yong was; he’d done his dragon research when he’d given Erik the Ouroboros. The Yong meant something deeper than the words they exchanged now. Something hard and bright and intrusively real. He cleared his throat and ran his thumb along the spiral edge of his drawing pad.
The shop was mostly empty. River risked a kiss, a deeper one, pressing a promise into Erik’s mouth.
Erik tucked his lips against River’s cheek. “Are you gonna make this yours or what?”
“Your tattoo?” River cocked his head. “Or you?”
“Both.” Erik looked down at his fingers, twisting together. “Make it your art. Make me your art.”
River glowed, then. Maybe Erik hadn’t known quite what the Ouroboros meant to River when they’d done it. But he did now. The request wasn’t acquiescence to River’s overture; it was all Erik. He thought of Erik’s chest, its planes and the cut lines of his ribs and abdomen. Sketched the dragon in his mind. Thought of the watercolor of the Ouroboros and the sharp geometry of the Imugi.
“How do you feel about a little of this and a little of that?”
“If I had any idea what that meant, I’d probably be okay with it.” Erik’s smile was in his eyes, the loose set of his jaw, just a hint at the corners of his lips.
River pointed at the newer art on the wall at his station. Tucked away in the corner was a small one, a perfectly balanced piece, half geometric tree and half bleeding greens that only hinted at a potential shape. He’d done it just days after their night in the woods, with Erik’s confession of love still vibrating inside, buzzing against River’s fears.
“Something with these sharp lines, but watercolor, too.”
Erik examined the piece with a thoughtfulness River appreciated. He wasn’t rushing into anything for River’s sake. It was, after all, his body wearing River’s art.
“Won’t the dragon lose something if it’s drawn that way? I like the contrast between the lines and the watercolor. But I want it to be clear.”
River tapped a pencil against the cover of his notebook and mulled it over, drawing and redrawing it in his mind. “So, the dragon in outlines maybe, but not necessarily as angular. Put the depth in the watercolor here”—he tapped the dragon—“and maybe something different in the sphere. No color bleeding out. Dense and darker than the rest.”
“The intention isn’t for it to be holding something bad, babe.”
“No,” River said through a smile. “More like something fathomless. Like love.” He blushed but didn’t take it back, didn’t make a joke to lighten the sentiment. What he felt for Erik was fathomless, a love that was shocking in its truth, in its potential, in how happy they knew they could make each other. “Right?”
“Right.” Erik kissed him quietly. “Do you know the story?” Erik’s fingertips grazed River’s knee.
River did, but he shook his head anyway.
“Once an Imugi catches a star, its wish is granted, and it turns into a Yong, a storm dragon that governs the skies. They’re more compassionate, wiser, stronger—better.”
“What happens to the star?”
Erik’s lips spread into a crooked grin. “The dragon keeps the star. It’s a pride thing, I think.”
River smirked. This was a storm he could get used to—one he wanted to stay in day after day after day—Erik O’Malley’s vicious, wonderful storm. “So, outline, watercolor, and lots of saturation. Detail in and around the star; fluidity mixed with a modern, angular design. Sound good, tough guy?”
Erik’s eyes didn’t leave his. They held River suspended between breaths. He moved close, framed River’s warm cheeks in rough palms, and looked unerringly into River’s eyes. “Sounds perfect, pretty boy.”
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Acknowledgments
This book was created on the axis of reader of enthusiasm, and we can’t thank you all enough for inspiring us to work together. To our beta readers, Annie, Min and Matt, thank you for following Erik and River’s love story with us. We couldn’t have done this without you. Lydia, Judi, and the team at Entangled: Your enthusiasm, professionalism and connection with this book was an absolute dream come true. Thank you for going on this deeply personal journey with us.
About the Author
Taylor Brooke (she/they) writes #ownvoices Queer books about love, secrets and magic. When she’s not writing, she’s exploring the Pacific Northwest, backpacking, or reading. Connect with her on Twitter at @taysalion.
Jude Sierra is a Latinx poet, author, academic and mother working toward her PhD in Writing and Rhetoric, looking at the intersections of Queer, Feminist and Pop Culture Studies. She also works as an LGBTQAI+ book reviewer for From Top to Bottom Reviews. Her novels include Hush, What it Takes, and Idlewild, a contemporary LGBT romance set in Detroit’s renaissance, which was named a Best Book of 2016 by Kirkus Reviews. Her most recent novel, A Tiny Piece of Something Greater was released in May of 2018.
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