To Target the Heart

by Aldrea Alien

  Hamish frowned. Toys? Blindfolds? Gags? Listening to his lover calmly list everything only served to have him feel even more ignorant. None of the old lectures he recalled on sex ever mentioned anything beyond two naked bodies.

  Darshan continued, clearly heedless to the confusion he was causing, “And although I do not allow it to be used on myself, I am adept in several magical tricks, if you ever find yourself feeling adventurous. Although, I suppose that might be quite the leap for you.”

  “Sex magic?” he mumbled, his mind frantically struggling to catch up with his ears. They were actually still talking about sex? He had begun to wonder. “That’s an actual thing?” He had heard rumours, there were always strange stories about what spellsters were capable of, but he tended to dismiss those mentioning sex magic.

  Grinning, his lover nodded vigorously. “We do not call it that, but yes. What of you?” Darshan returned his hand to Hamish’s grasp, his fingertips caressing Hamish’s palm like it was the most natural thing to do. “Where do your limits lie?”

  “I—” He’d only ever repeated the one act and with Darshan unwilling to cause him any pain, it was a stance he more than appreciated… “I dinnae ken.”

  His lover’s fingers halted. Confusion fluttered across Darshan’s face, then vanished. “You must have some idea.”

  Hamish rocked his head from side to side. “Me entire experience has been people bending me over things and having their way.” And half of that wasn’t exactly enjoyable. “Beyond that act, I honestly have nae clue.”

  Darshan shuffled closer, perching on the edge of his chair. “We could find out together, if you would like?”

  “Starting with what?”

  Darshan ran his forefinger down Hamish’s palm. It radiated unnatural warmth. “How about I show you a little sex magic?”

  “Here? Is that a good idea?” Whilst there were a number of bookshelves they could duck behind, the door didn’t lock. “What if someone comes in and sees us?”

  “They will see very little. I have no plans to strip you…” He cocked his head. “Not below your waist, at least. I shall require you to sit down on something a little steadier than a stool, though. You are certainly far too tall to stand for what I am thinking of.” Leaping to his feet, Darshan dragged a nearby armless chair away from the table. “Strip to your skin and straddle this.”

  Curiosity had Hamish obeying before he could properly think of all the ways this could go wrong. He peeled each layer off one by one, the mute chill in the air digging into his flesh as his undershirt finally hit the floor. Throwing a leg over the seat had him facing the chair’s back. A few quick adjustments to his position by Darshan’s thankfully warm hands left Hamish with his arms propped on the back of the chair.

  A hand, gentle and smooth, slid across his shoulder before gliding back up. His hair shifted, then a single strand snagged. A hiss slithered between his teeth. He could handle a tug at a clump of hair—he wouldn’t be able to hunt in half the places he did if he couldn’t—but this was like being stabbed in the scalp by a needle.

  “Frutz,” Darshan grumbled, the word almost too quiet to make out. “Hold on.”

  Hamish tilted his head, letting the mass of coils fall either side of his neck as Darshan untangled the rest. The presence at his back faded and the clatter of metal hitting the table filled the silence.

  “My apologies,” Darshan said as he returned. “I had rather forgotten that ring is somewhat carnivorous.” He laid his hands on Hamish’s shoulders. “Now, you should feel a slight tingle…”

  Warmth soaked through his skin like a damp cloth, accompanied by a deep buzz that could only be his lover’s magic. It did tingle. Soft and low, it put him in the mind of a tiny kitten purring happily away. Hamish relaxed against the chair back, resting his chin on his crossed wrists. A contented sigh whistled through his nose.

  The breath of his lover’s chuckle skittered across Hamish’s back. “Shall I take that sound to mean it is all right? Not too much?” There was a sliver of concern in the question. “I can decrease the vibration a little further.”

  Hamish shook his head. “This is good,” he slurred.

  He sagged further as sure and sinuous fingers swept over his back, finding each knot in his muscles like a boarhound on the hunt. The warmth and gentle kneading did much to relieve the little aches he hadn’t previously noticed last night’s tumble through the window had caused. Was it healing magic? There was a faint familiarity to the tingling.

  But that didn’t explain what Darshan had said earlier. Massaging his back wasn’t new, although this was different in execution by being magically assisted. The nagging thought continued to tug at his slush-ridden mind. “I dinnae see how this can be seen as sex magic,” he half-mumbled against his forearm.

  “Like this?” Darshan gave a contemplative hum. “It is not generally considered as such, I will give you that. I merely thought it prudent to start low given this was your first time.”

  “Of what? Having magic used on me?” A hearty laugh bubbled in his chest. “This is nae me first time there.” Granted, a good two decades had passed from the last time he’d been in a position to require such healing from spellsters, but it seemed Darshan had forgotten he had used magic on him last night. But then, other thoughts had surely swarmed his mind since.

  “Oh?” Such rich delight and surprise tinted the word that Hamish wished he could see his lover’s face. “Then, would you be agreeable to me increasing the strength?”

  Nodding, Hamish garbled something that he hoped the man took as acquiescence and a crackling surge of heat washed over his body in answer. The tingling intensified, burrowing deeper into his flesh.

  “Of course,” Darshan murmured. “Even now, it is a shadow of what the real thing is like. I am afraid you shall just have to imagine it…” His hand slunk down Hamish’s side, angling around to the front, the tingling touch sliding further until his fingertips slipped beneath the waistband of Hamish’s trousers. “…lower,” he purred.

  Hamish swallowed. Imagining wasn’t in it. Even with his lover not lingering long, the light vibration running through his abdomen was enough to stir him. “Aye?” he managed, the word thick on his tongue. “I can do that rightly enough.”

  “My apologies,” Darshan whispered, his voice husky and failing at sounding in any way remorseful. His fingers returned to the warm massaging of Hamish’s shoulders. “It was not my intention to tease so much. I shall stop before this gets awkward. Just allow me to turn down the heat first.” Like the breath of a frost giant from the stories of Hamish’s childhood, a wave of coldness slipped down his back.

  An involuntary gasp filled his lungs with the library’s musty air. The hair on his bare skin swiftly lifted. Jumping into Mullhind Harbour during the midwinter festival was a ghost of a comparison.

  Chuckling wickedly, his warm breath only serving to make Hamish feel colder, Darshan planted a firm kiss onto Hamish’s shoulder. “We call that the auk-maardin.” Heat slowly returned to the man’s fingers. His lover hovered them over Hamish’s bare skin, his fingertips brushing Hamish’s skin fleetingly as the radiating warmth returned him to normal. “You are welcome to ask for it any time you desire to cool down.”

  Hamish whistled as he reached for his undershirt and pulled it on. “I dinnae think me tongue will get around a fancy word like that.” And if it was always so bitterly cold, then it sounded like something uttered only after it was done to a person.

  “Fancy?” Darshan scoffed. “It is merely common Udynean. Loosely translates as the change of seasons. It only sounds strange because it is foreign. How do you think I felt when I was learning your language?”

  “Aye, but still…” He shrugged into his overcoat. Languages had always been his older siblings’ speciality. For Nora, it made trading easier, whilst Gordon found any disputes along the border were often settled through conversing rather than the use of the weapons their mother preferred to brandish whenever the moment arose.<
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  Darshan leant against the table, cocking one hip as he casually drummed his fingers on the old water-stained wood. “The things I have witnessed your tongue get around, a few fancy words should be little bother. However…” He breached the space between them, his hands gliding up Hamish’s chest, those seeking fingers already entwining themselves into the cloth. “If you insist otherwise, I could loosen it for you.”

  Their lips touched and there it was again; ancient fire radiating a bone-deep warmth. It shuddered through Hamish, drawing strength even as it gave plenty more in return. His lover clung to him, restrained desire shaking through his grip.

  He pulled Darshan closer, trying so very hard not to snicker as a small whimpering moan escaped the man.

  The door creaked open.

  Hamish all but shoved Darshan away. He glared at the man as he noticed how dishevelled his clothes were. He hastily tugged them into some semblance of order. Could the spellster not do something as simple as kissing without pawing at him like a bear seeking to break open a chicken coop?

  “And just what are you two doing?”

  Nora’s voice had Hamish whipping his head around to the dreadful twinge of objecting muscle.

  His sister stood in the doorway, clutching a small stack of books. She arched a brow at them, the quirk of her lips suggesting she already knew the answer. “Or should I say were?” She shook her head. “Nae exactly the ideal spot for it.”

  Heat flooded Hamish’s face. Being almost caught snogging in the library by his sister… He groaned. Was there any worse fate the Goddess could’ve thought up? Mum. At least his luck hadn’t turned that sour. “You’ve got it all wrong. We were just—”

  “I am tutoring him,” Darshan blurted. Unlike himself, the spellster looked as immaculate as ever. His focus seemed to be on donning the many rings he had discarded earlier. “Teaching him my native tongue, as it were. As I mentioned to you this morning.”

  Nora’s eyes remained fixed on Hamish, narrowing the longer Darshan talked. “You ken that Mum doesnae wish for you to leave Tirglas, right?”

  Hamish grunted. If their mother had her way, he wouldn’t seek a breath unless she told him to. “Doesnae mean I cannae learn the language.” There would be plenty of chances to use such knowledge within Mullhind, especially once the trade negotiations were finally agreed upon.

  His sister’s entire bottom lip disappeared into her mouth as she shook her head. Setting the books down amongst the others already on the table, Nora swung her attention to Darshan. “This is all we have with any Udynean translations, your imperial highness. And I’m meant to inform you that me mum wishes to see you in her study.”

  All at once, the library seemed colder. Had his mother been told about his disappearance last night? Did she believe he had been out drinking with Gordon or had she seen through the lie? Nora’s tone had been hopeful. Perhaps she saw a means to have the negotiations end.

  Disappointment settled in his gut at the thought of Darshan leaving so soon. Was there a way to delay finalisations that wouldn’t also see the man banished from Tirglas like the dwarven ambassador?

  “Thank you,” Darshan replied. “And, please, inform her that I shall be there presently.”

  Inclining her head, Nora shuffled back out of the library as swiftly as she had entered.

  Hamish waited only until the door closed before speaking, “Teaching me your native tongue?”

  Darshan chuckled. “Abysmal, I know. I simply could not resist.” His gaze slid back from the door. “What’s with the head shake? I do not believe I misspoke. The word also means language, does it not?”

  “Aye. Although, I dinnae recall much usage of this…” Hamish stuck out his tongue at the man and pointed to it.

  A small smile curved his lover’s lips. “Well, you hardly need tutoring in it,” he breathed, leaning back against the table. “But if you insist, I could refresh your memory.” He stretched his arms out behind him in what had to be the most nonchalant manner Hamish had observed in a long time.

  The stack of books sitting just on Darshan’s left chose that moment to slide unceremoniously across the table, seemingly without a soul touching them.

  Hamish tipped his head to one side, trying to see around his lover without being too obvious. Darshan’s hand had knocked a long, thin box that’d been tucked against the books.

  A blush in full bloom spread across Darshan’s face. He straightened, surreptitiously tucking the box behind his back. “Oh, I actually came bearing gifts. Well, one,” he swiftly amended.

  “The box?” It might’ve been big enough for a child’s belt knife or boot dagger, maybe even a few trinkets at a stretch, but they were the type of gifts children were given during the midwinter festival.

  Shock swiftly dropped Darshan’s jaw. “How did you—?” Sighing, he produced the box and offered it. “Yes, this. You are most welcome to open it here, but I would advise against waving it around.”

  A strange gift. He had passed the point of trinket collecting and his hunting dagger was far too large to fit inside. Nevertheless, good workmanship had been involved in the box’s design. It was fairly nondescript, though. No markings or latches marred the smooth, fawn grain. Nor was there anything about it to denote its usage. “Thank you?”

  Darshan’s jaw twitched. He pressed his lips together, his top lip disappearing completely beneath his moustache. That hazel gaze remained rooted to the box. One brow lifted expectantly.

  There was something inside? He hadn’t heard anything when he had turned it over.

  Curious, Hamish lifted the lid. Inside sat a—

  He slammed the box closed, his face burning. “What is this? I mean… I ken what it looks like.” His face grew hotter still. Dinnae wave it around indeed. Thank the Goddess no one else was in the library. “What the hell am I supposed to do with it?” he hissed.

  Darshan chuckled, a wicked timbre that shimmied its way straight to Hamish’s groin. “You poor, sheltered thing.” He gently peeled back the lid. “It happens to be one of my toys. I did say I liked them.”

  “Toy?” Hamish echoed. He rubbed at his neck, the skin beneath his fingertips an inferno. This was what his lover had meant by that? He had thought—

  Nothing. Toys had always brought up the image of dolls or wooden blocks and swords for children. The suggestively-shaped, leather-bound item nestled inside the linen-lined box wouldn’t have been a consideration.

  “Sadly, your lack of magic means you cannot make full use of its abilities, but…” A bejewelled finger rang across the toy’s length. “You just oil it up and—” Darshan grinned, a faint hint of redness touching his cheeks. “Do I really need to explain further?”

  Again, Hamish closed the lid, gently this time. “Nae.”

  A slightly puzzled frown creased the skin between Darshan’s brows. “No, you do not want it? Or no, you have no need for an explanation?”

  “The last one.” He had already gathered its usage. “But why are you giving this to me?”

  His lover ran a hand up Hamish’s arm almost idly. “So you can have a little fun when we cannot play together.” His soft smile fell. “Or if your mother finally catches us and throws me out of your… simply lovely kingdom. It is far less damaging to yourself than propositioning uncaring strangers.”

  Hamish stepped back, his hip bumping into the padded arm of a chair. “Have you really used this?” He shook the box. “I thought— I mean… you like it that way, too?”

  “Do you not?”

  “Recently, aye,” he confessed. They might’ve only engaged in sex the once, but it had certainly been the best Hamish had ever experienced. He ran a thumb over the lid. His stomach knotted at the thought of trying it out.

  Then an altogether wicked idea sprang to mind. “Could you show me how to use it?” The question was out before Hamish could reconsider.

  His lover beamed, impious glee twinkling in his eyes. “I was hoping you would ask. Would you prefer this demonstration to
be on you or myself?”

  “To be honest, I hadnae thought that far.” He shrugged. “You?”

  Darshan widened the distance between them and, for a moment, Hamish thought he’d been too presumptuous. Then one corner of his mouth lifted. “Bring it to me on your next visit. I would suggest sooner, but I believe your sister might still be waiting for me outside.” He smiled warmly and readjusted his glasses. “Sadly, trade agreements lack the ability to negotiate themselves. At least, not in a way that shall make my father happy.”

  Hamish nodded. As much as he hated the thought, there were other obligations they both needed to ensure were met outside of each other.

  Pausing at the door, Darshan waved a hand at the books. “Try and see what you can glean from those in the meantime. I shall return when I am able.” With that, he slipped out of the library.

  “Great,” Hamish muttered to himself. “I’ll just start here, then.” He opened one of the books his sister had brought in and flipped through the pages, skimming the shifting text for something less familiar. Another language sat alongside the Tirglasian words, strange glyphs that ran in a dizzy line of loops. Udynean.

  Huffing and clicking his tongue, he twisted the book one way, then the other. It made no difference. But then, he had trouble with written words at the best of times. The letters rarely stayed in the exact same order as when he first read them. This though?

  He flicked back through the pages, searching for a simple phrase. This was worse. Everything looked the same save for the odd vertical line here and there.

  How did Darshan expect him to learn this jumble? What way did these words even go?

  He stared at the word before him, his eyes straining as the letters shimmered and changed. There was pressure on the right and a failing of the ink towards the left in the same manner most inked words ended. Right to left, then. Precisely the opposite direction he was used to. That wouldn’t make things any easier. Might as well get on with it.

  Sighing, Hamish settled back onto the stool and pulled the lantern closer. He could only try. It certainly couldn’t be any worse than any other time he had been forced to stick his nose into a book.