Mask

by Jan Irving

  “Nick, its just sex. Come down, kitten.”

  “I gave myself! Ive never done that so completely before. I just…. Fuck, I feel like I shed a layer of skin or something, kind of raw now.” “ Unwise to give yourself so completely, but I knew youd be like this.” Kains voice vibrated with suppressed feeling. Satisfaction, buried need. “I knew all I had to do was touch you and youd let me have you, let me tease you, hurt you.”

  Struggling to shove down feeling, Nick sat up. His body was trembling, singing; his emotions felt rasped by sandpaper. “Hurt?” “I like to do that sometimes, just a little. Its what the detective was referring to when she said my„tastes.”

  “Oh.” Nick chewed his lip. “You were monitoring her this morning.” Kain chose to focus on their intimacy. “I want to cane your ass, get you to a place beyond tears. Youll kiss the hand that hurt you and beg me to spend all over your open legs.”

  Nicks breathing picked up. He reached out and groped for Kains face. Kain immediately stiffened, pulled away.

  Did Kain… fear him? Why?

  “ Just a kiss,” he breathed, shifting closer by slow inches until his searching mouth glanced against Kains lips. “Please, I was good. And maybe one day Ill let you cane me. I want to wear your come.”

  His lips stuttered against the side of Kains face, persuasive, asking….

  “No.” Kain gripped Nicks wrists, holding him away. “Oh, God, no. You have to be safe. It has to be on my terms, or Ill lose control.” “ Didnt you ever kiss any of those prostitutes?”

  Flatly, he said, “No, I never do that.”

  “What…,” Nick licked his lips,“what do you do with them?”

  He heard Kains quickened breathing, felt the warmth of the proximity of his big, muscled body. “ Kain, its all right. For some reason I find the idea of you being with men who look like me weirdly erotic. As long as you wont do it anymore, of course! Talk to me, take me deeper.”

  “ Sometimes I like to watch them,” Kain admitted. “I make them perform for me, hump my leg or slut themselves for me while were observed in some club.”

  “So you do go to clubs?” “ I always wear a black mask.” Kain tugged Nicks black silk blindfold. “And I blindfold them as I do you. There is nothing like caning a slim blond boy, making him cry out, lick my leather boot, and then jerking off and coming over his upraised ass. And sometimes….”

  Nick was barely breathing, spellbound as he had been in their intimate chat discussions. Kain took him forbidden places. Pushed him. Turned him on.

  “ Sometimes I dont let the boy come. We might reach an agreement that I can turn him over to a couple of men I select so I can watch him get gang banged. Does that scare you?”

  “ I dont know,” Nick admitted, rawly honest. He swallowed thickly, heart hammering in his throat. He wished he could tell himself he was turned off, but at least in fantasy, he wanted to play that role for Kain. “Did you know the boy who was killed last night?”

  Nick s wrists sagged, abandoned by Kains grip.

  “Kain, no, I was just—!”

  But he knew he was alone before the soft sound of the door closing.

  MARK fell away from the door when Finn opened it.

  “Oh, uh, I could have sworn it was bolted,” Mark said, flushing under Finns arched brows.

  “It was. The master of the house didnt care for the idea of a house guest stealing the silver.”

  “If you mean that stuff we ate with at dinner, it was black and spotted. Almost as dingy as the lace tablecloth.”

  Finn shrugged. “I like to call it the „ruined Gothic look.” Mark leaned against the door, crossing his muscular arms and smiling, reluctantly caught by Finn. “You invented it?”

  “I work with what I have.” Finn spread his hands. “Are you going to continue to hit on Nick?”

  “I dont see how thats any of your business,” Mark said coolly. “ None at all. Only I wouldnt mind sleeping in here with you, all locked up.” Finns eyes warmed when Mark took a deep breath… and came up with nothing to say. “Its what I told Mr. Mitchell, and the only reason he allowed you to stay here.”

  “So it was a ruse.” Finn leaned close and brushed Mark s lips with his own smiling ones. “Oh, no, it wasnt. Im always very honest with my boss and even more honest when Im fucking or being fucked.”

  Breathless, Mark sputtered, “Jesus!”

  Finn kicked the door shut. MARK was yawning later that morning, rubbing his wild peaks of brown hair as he walked into Nicks studio. He studied the colors his friend was mixing.

  “ Red and yellow ochre, lamp black, burnt sienna, raw umber….” Mark took note. “All you need is some crushed lapis lazuli for Van Eycks pure blue.”

  “Im feeling primal.” Nick shrugged, studying the canvases hed previously prepared for one that felt the right size, shape. “ Man trouble,” Mark said abruptly. He sat on the bench and watched Nick claim his choice. “While you burned the midnight oil, I slept with Finn,” he added baldly. “Well, we didnt exactly sleep. And we were never quite horizontal either.”

  Nicks eyes widened and his brush lowered. “Oh, wow.” EMPHATIC charcoal stuttered over pristine surface. Nick closed his eyes, fading in and out of his conversation with Mark, the thoughts that had driven him, pushed him all night until hed exhausted himself on innocent canvas.

  Kains left hand. Bare skin. His right hand had been gloved, but not the left. Why?

  “He doesnt want me to see him,” Nick muttered darkly. “But I need to see him, and I will see him.”

  “The monarch butterflys pigmentation warns predators—” Mark began. “ ...that it is poisonous,” Nick finished, remembering the recent lecture theyd both attended about the role of color in nature. “Why dont the men who crush our hearts wear tattoos or something?”

  “Oh, Nick.” Mark slid off the table and went to Nick, waiting until the blond looked up at him.

  Nick bit his lip. Mark hugged him. “So soon after Miguel? Nick, Im sure thats all this is, just a need to fill the void. A need to be swept away, and from what youve told me about Mitchell, he sounds the type to do that to a fella. All mysterious Alpha male.”

  “Is that what happened with you and Finn? He swept you away?” Mark smiled, shaking his head ruefully. “Finn just…. You cant say no to him, turns out! I actually came out here with the nefarious plan of getting closer to you, now that you and Miguel are done.”

  Nick played with Mark s Claddagh ring, worn on his right hand with the design facing outward, letting prospective men know Mark was single but open to a relationship.

  “Im so fucking tired. Kain and I…. Another disagreement.” Mark pressed his lips to the corner of Nick s mouth. “If you cant forget him then maybe I can help you get his attention. And if you need a rebound guy….” Another kiss. And it felt so good to be kissed. So good to be out in the open, in the light of the morning sun. Not confused and aching and left in the dark by the man he truly wanted.

  Nick turned his head, accepting momentary comfort, his hands buried in Marks bed hair now.

  “WHERE the fuck is Kain?”

  Nick and Mark sprang apart at the harsh voice interrupting their near miss with intimacy. Nick instinctively moved in front of Mark, suddenly feeling protective of his friend in Telemachus House, though he wasnt sure why except he felt the brush of angry eyes.

  Kain?

  I like to watch.

  He raised his brows at the newcomer, a short, curly-haired brunet who was glaring at him and Mark while holding a bouquet of crushed long-stemmed red roses, some dripping as if theyd been yanked from water. “Who the fuck are you?” the invader demanded.

  “ I was about to ask you the same question, albeit more politely,” Nick retorted, crossing his arms. “Im Nick, a new employee of Kain Mitchells. Did Finn let you in the house?”

  “I walked in. The door was unlocked.” Nick frowned. That carelessness seemed unlike Kain and Finn, unless for some reason Kain had allowed this angry stranger to inv
ade his home. But why?

  “Im Ross Green. Im here to see that cowardly son of a—” “ Im sure hes aware you are here, but Mr. Mitchell is something of a recluse. He doesnt just see people. And… hes not a coward,” Nick gritted, forgetting his annoyance with Kain. He felt protective of him now, the way hed felt moments ago about Mark. Oh no, his life wasnt confusing at all!

  “Hes ashamed,” Ross sneered. “And so he should be after what he did!” Finn suddenly appeared, hair pulled back with a bright pink and yellow bandanna, golden eyes hard. “Ross. I was making pastry in the kitchen when I saw you come in. I wouldnt have let you in, of course.”

  “ He sent these to my mom!” Ross growled, shaking the flowers at Finn. “How dare he? Doesnt he see its over between us, after what he did?”

  “ Hes not a monster, Ross.” Finn put his hands on his hips.“Even if you want to make him into some kind of villain over your loss. Its not that simple. Hes not entirely black.”

  Ross took a deep breath and tears suddenly glittered in his eyes. “He killed Aaron. You know it and I know it. And I can take care of my mom. Its just appendicitis. I can handle the hospital bills. You tell him we arent best friends anymore and I dont need his help!”

  Finn glared. “I think he heard you. And on the friend front, maybe one day youll get your head out of your ass and realize that losing you was the last thing he wanted.”

  Ross threw the roses to the stone floor. “But he did lose me. Its too bad he didnt just die in that fire!” He ignored Finns angry growl and strode from the room, leaving Mark and Nick staring at Finn, wide-eyed.

  “Go back to work, gentlemen,” Finn barked, very unlike his usual serene self. “Shows over.” Instinctively, Nick looked up at the camera and thought about Kain watching. Ross had said theyd been close. How did it feel to have your former best friend hate your guts?

  Lonely, the thought came through, almost as if Kain had whispered it for his ears alone. Moonbeam: Will you talk to me?

  Moonbeam: Kain, talk to me.

  Obsidian: Did you enjoy it, his touch? Putting on a display for my eyes? Because I found I wanted to kill him for touching what is mine.

  Moonbeam: It wasn’t anything. Didn’t you hear? He’d…slept with Finn. Obsidian: I heard. I don’t believe sleeping entered their encounter from what Finn described. I’m sure you’re pleased with yourself, getting back at me with Mark. You knew I would be watching.

  Moonbeam: Yes, but you know it’s more complicated than that. Mine field. I’m just doing my best to walk through it to the other side.

  Obsidian: The other side of what? You wanted to show me up. Does it make you feel better to know you can do that, even though I sign your paychecks?

  Moonbeam: I... When we’re together, I lose myself in you, like love against my skin. I need to get beyond the mask. Make it real. You didn’t like being hurt, and turns out you are not the only one afraid of that.

  Obsidian: Nick, don’t touch him again. I won’t be responsible if you do.

  Moonbeam: What do you mean by that? It almost seems like a threat. Obsidian: There is so much you don’t know. I try never to harm you.

  Moonbeam: Why is Ross Green so angry with you? Why does he believe you’re a bad person?

  Obsidian: He can think what he likes. He doesn’t matter anymore. Moonbeam: Somehow, I don’t believe you. I think he hurt you. He said you killed someone called Aaron, but that can’t be true.

  Obsidian: I might have. Aaron…burned.

  Moonbeam: Kain, I don’t believe you meant anything to happen to Ross’s friend.

  Obsidian: Obsidian, call me Obsidian. You said I was a weapon, that I was brittle. You should be afraid of me. Moonbeam: I was angry that you forced my hand into staying here but the truth is... I was drawn to come. I couldn’t stay away from you. And you aren’t like that. When we get close, I can feel your gentleness. You are careful with me.

  Obsidian: What if I tell you I don’t want to be? Moonbeam: You are not a monster. I would feel it if you were. It would come out in the way I paint you. Obsidian: I’m not what you think I am. I wish I was…safe. Moonbeam: I’m not sure if I’d be so drawn to you if you were. So okay, what are you then?

  Obsidian: Buried. Moonbeam: That’s why this choice of house? Buried in vegetation? But if you’re so horrible, did you kill that boy, that hustler?

  Obsidian: I don’t know.

  Moonbeam: How can you not know? Finn said he was with you.

  Obsidian: I hope he was. I don’t remember. And Finn… He’s difficult to know. He says and does things for his own reasons.

  Moonbeam: So your servant is as much shades of gray as you are. But I think Finn is loyal, whatever his reasons for doing things. And as for you, you can’t just say something like that to me and not expect me to— What do you expect me to feel? Are you trying to drive me away?

  Obsidian: I expect you to leave, of course. I will honor our bargain about Miguel, but you and Mark should leave this house. Especially Mark!

  Moonbeam: Is Mark in danger?

  Obsidian: I…don’t know. He touched you. And now I want— Moonbeam: Kain, I know this isn’t easy for you, but I need you to talk to me! Please don’t shut me out. It hurts…

  Obsidian: Has left the room.

  Moonbeam: It hurts. Goddamn you!

  “NICK, you cant. You have to leave him alone, especially now!” Finn

  grabbed Nicks arm, glaring at him. “You dont know. You havent…. Shit! You probably have led a very mundane life.” Standing outside the double doors that led to Kain s wing of the house, Nick yanked his arm free. “I am at a disadvantage but Im not a fool and Im not a child, Finn. And why is it that he trusts you, when he holds the rest of us away?”

  Finn leaned against the paneled wall. “Some things I experienced growing up, probably. I understand him and I dont push him.” “ And I do? But someone has to. Do you think hes happy, locked away like that? Hes… frightened, Finn. As powerful as he is, as dangerous as he wants me to believe he is, I can feel him bleeding. I cant leave him alone like that.”

  Finn sighed. “He wants you to be his lover.”

  “So?”

  “So that complicates things, I know. I once met someone… extraordinary. But it probably would have been better for both of us if Id stayed away.”

  “But you didnt.” Finn s eyes were heavy with the weight of memory.“No, but we couldnt mate, not the way we needed to, so we finally broke apart. It was like ripping away skin. For him, and for me. Now… I dont even know if hes alive.”

  “Finn.” Nick squeezed the other mans shoulder. “ So I know how you feel!” Finn stepped out of Nicks path. “But there are some doors you walk through and there is no going back to who you were.”

  Nick said, “I think were already past that, Kain and I. I think the first night he singled me out… scared me, turned me on; he became my obsession as much as I am his. He seemed to know me. Know the side of myself I was hiding from, except in my art. And I need to be naked with someone. I need to be revealed, opened like a mystery.”

  Finn gave him a wry glance.“Very poetic, my passionate young artist friend. And speaking of mystery….” He nodded at the closed door. Nick drew in a deep breath and moved toward it, knowing it was more than a simple threshold he was about to pass.

  He was walking into Kains world. HE OPENED the door, surprised at first to find it unlocked, but then he remembered how nothing happened in Telemachus House that Kain was unaware of so he must want Nick here, the open door a silent invitation—if Nick was only brave enough to accept it.

  Taking another deep, steadying breath, he entered a sitting room paneled with cherry, the thin wiry vines of ivy and wild jasmine piercing the cracks in the wood from the stained ceiling to open fronds and live inside the house.

  The masters room was simply furnished with a wing chair, fireplace, cobwebs, and a pile of dusty, neglected books.

  The floor creaked under his feet, another warning to Kain, if he was listeni
ng, that he was not alone. Nick paused, his heart thudding in his ears, his palms damp. Should he invade deeper? The room was silent, just the disinterested tick of a grandfather clock, dust shifting in the faint light in lazy streams. And Nick, hesitating….

  He pressed one of his hands against the door to Kains bedroom. It swung open easily.

  Kain, I have to know you. You woke sleeping beauty, made me want you. A large canopy bed with stiff ivory lace curtains stood in the center of the room, dimly lit by a single candle. Nick frowned. Why did Kain have such a liking for primitive candlelight?

  The tall windows were covered in swags of heavy bronze fabric, blocking out the morning light, but Nick could feel the residue of cool October air breathing from the bones of the room, hinting that the windows had been open recently, letting in the chilly, damp night.

  Nick went to the bed, put a knee on it, nestled next to the long curled form.

  He paused when he spotted the items on the bedside table, recognizing bruised red roses. Rosss roses. In a vase now, close to Kain. Like hell you don ’t care.

  He reached out and clasped a gloved hand.

  “Hey,” he whispered.

  Kain turned his head, and jungle-green eyes caught Nick, burning, taking his breath.

  Nick tugged Kains glove off, closing his eyes. Words, wild feelings, blocked up in his throat, his chest.

  He touched the roughened skin hed exposed with his lips. And Kain growled, “Kitten.”

  RED OCHRE. Nick s brush hesitated like a caught breath, the moment before he put color to canvas. And that moment translated into remembering Kains kiss.

  He squeezed his eyes tight, the moment rippling through him like standing in the path of a bonfire pushed by the wind.

  Kains possessive kiss, taking him, reshaping him. How could he even begin to channel through art the singing blood, the perspiration dampening his hairline, that moment of perfect anticipation before their kiss?

  Staring into Kain’s feral eyes, and then dropping his own because he was overwhelmed. Because he felt untouched, until now. Hearing him whisper, “Kitten,” and cup Nick’s cheek, comforting him even as he took control. “It’s just a kiss. Isn’t that what you came for?”