Adam sped up with a huff, but his foot must have slipped over a damp stone, because his breath turned into a yelp, and he would have fallen over if Emil hadn’t kept him upright with one hand.
Blue eyes darted to meet Emil’s when Adam slowly composed himself and steadied his breath, still holding on to Emil. “You two just seem very friendly, that’s all.”
Emil bit his lip, standing still for that bit longer to enjoy Adam’s fingertips on his bare forearm. Then, his thoughts lit up like fireworks. “Wait. Are you jealous?”
Adam frowned and looked away before the flush creeping up his neck could have reached his face. But in the torchlight, his nape was pink, as if it had been stained with raspberry juice. “Don’t be stupid. It’s just that he’s a redhead and has freckles. And you mentioned someone like that,” he said, continuing his slow descent.
It was nice to see Adam remembering that fateful confession by heart. “But it’s private. And I don’t want him getting in trouble with his dad.”
“I’m not gonna tell on him. Not that I particularly like Nowak.” Adam wouldn’t glance Emil’s way though and sped up, heading straight for the diagonal wall that now blew ice into Emil’s face.
He wanted to say it was late, that they had a long way home, but the words wouldn’t leave his mouth in the face of Adam’s confident strides. When torchlight slithered over the sharp stones, he expected to see bugs, maybe a lizard skittering away from the intruders, but the glow stole farther, revealing a narrow passage into the cliff.
Emil swallowed, trying to ignore the goosebumps erupting all over his body in response to the unnatural cold of the cavity. “We’ve hooked up on and off for a while now. It’s not like he’s my boyfriend,” he felt compelled to communicate this without beating around the bush, even though he knew Adam had told him in no uncertain terms that he wasn’t interested in breaking his vows.
“It’s none of my business. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked,” Adam said, touching the rocks at the entryway into the passage as an excuse to not look at Emil.
Emil ignored the unease that had bothered him since he’d laid his eyes on this very wall. The crack was only visible from up close, at a specific angle, but he supposed an average person might be able to get in there. If they were brave enough.
“It’s okay. He’s my best friend, I guess. I was never particularly close to anyone my age here in Dybukowo. I met other alternative kids once I started high school, but the school was far away and I could only spend so much time with them. Besides, many of those I got close to moved somewhere else since, so we lost touch. Now that Radek’s left for Cracow… It will be the same with him. People who leave Dybukowo visit less and less until they forget about their past and move on.”
“Didn’t he invite you to stay with him?” Adam asked, grabbing Emil’s forearm and directing it so more light could penetrate into the darkness of the passage.
“I’ve got no money, I’ve never held down a job, and on top of all that, I’ve got Jinx to think of, and I’m beginning to realize I will never leave this godforsaken village. That’s just the reality of it.” Saying it out loud made Emil’s heart heavy. There was a finality to admitting to someone how much of a failure he was.
The torch cast a warm glow on Adam’s face. Handsome, with eyes like jewels, it was in such stark contrast with the somber cassock, the thick, black fabric seemed like a trap, an anchor to keep him from rising off the ground. “Hope is hard to come by sometimes,” he said and gave Emil’s free hand a squeeze.
Emil’s throat tightened. “I must sound so miserable to you, but I’m not like this all the time. And I do love this forest. I love my house. I love living next to a stream and going on horse rides. It’s just that… sometimes I feel trapped, you know?” He and Adam had led such completely different lives, but what made them similar would be enough for Adam to understand where he was coming from. The night they’d spent together felt special, and he didn’t want to hide behind a mask any longer. “But I turn thirty tonight. I don’t know how yet, but I will turn over a new leaf.”
Adam’s mouth twitched, and he let go of Emil before digging into the pocket of his cassock. “Maybe this can bring you some luck,’ he said and unfolded a delicate golden chain necklace with a tiny cross pendant.
“Is this to save my sinful soul?” Emil asked with a smirk, but wrapped his hair around his hand and pulled it up, exposing his neck.
“I know you’re not religious, but I am. And I will pray so the tide turns for you,” Adam said as he stepped closer. Hesitation passed over his features, but he eventually reached behind Emil’s neck to fasten the necklace. The dainty chain of metal links was warm from Adam’s body heat when it brushed Emil’s skin, but neither of them said anything until Adam leaned back and put his hands in his pockets. “Happy birthday.”
The urge to kiss him was so violent he took a step back to create more distance between them. “Thank you. I’m sure it will bring me good fortune.” Sparks flew off his skin and jumped onto Adam’s cassock, but he stood no chance in setting Adam on fire. Adam’s resolve to resist him was far too great, and it wouldn’t have been fair to test it again and again. Adam smirked and looked away, settling his gaze on the rock cavity once more.
“Have you ever been in there?”
Emil shook off the sense of inaccessible sweetness beyond the reach of his lips and raised the torch, trying to inspect what was farther in, but it seemed the passage came to an abrupt end only a few paces into the cliff. It was empty.
“No. Doubt anyone’s tried to go in there, to be honest. It’s pretty well disguised, and we’re far from the village. But don’t worry, I know how to find my way back to civilization.”
Adam met his gaze, swallowing. “We could see what’s inside.”
Emil stared back at him, but his heartbeat already picked up. “What? Since when are you into caves?”
Adam took a deep gulp of air and stepped closer, as if the cavern lured him in as much as it pushed Emil away. “I’m curious.”
“It could be dangerous, and you’re not exactly dressed for climbing,” Emil said, indicating Adam’s cassock, but Adam pulled at Emil’s sleeve.
“We’ll be careful.”
Emil froze with the sense that something very odd had just happened, but Adam no longer waited and slid his hand over the mossy stones as he stepped into the crack, his black-clad form about to disperse in nothingness if Emil didn’t follow.
Emil’s throat tightened, but instead of waiting for Adam outside, he followed straight into a gap so narrow he needed to go in sideways. The dampness of the walls sent chills all the way to his bones, but the earlier sense of dread was gone, as if the fact that Adam had made a decision for them both negated all of Emil’s doubts.
His throat still dried when he realized that the passage wasn’t ending where he thought it would and had changed its angle, leading farther into the mountain. He never understood cave explorers. In fact, tight quarters made him uneasy. But even though he had to lean down so he wouldn’t hit his head, despite the walls around them offering so little space it seemed like they might get stuck at any moment, he wasn’t afraid.
Adam led the way as if he’d been raised in such tunnels, but when they took yet another turn, the corridor opened into a space so airy the scent of plants momentarily made Emil breathless.
They were at the floor of a gorge with rocky walls so tall and steep it seemed as if it had been created by a single jab of an enormous axe that had split the hill in two in an era when giants had roamed the world. It was still quite narrow, but the breadth of the ravine likely provided enough access to sunlight during the day to sustain the flood of greenery stretching as far as the eye could see.
Some of the trees reached all the way to where the mouth of the gorge opened into the sky, their leaves the most intense green Emil had ever seen, as if the whole forest offered sustenance to this hidden sanctuary untouched by human hand. Pillows of moss climbed the flat rock where Emi
l stood behind Adam, like a carpet laid out to welcome them home. Even the air was pleasantly warm.
For the first time since they’d found this place, Adam was hesitant and looked to Emil for guidance. Their eyes met for a moment that left a sugary aftertaste on Emil’s tongue. Emil’s heart beat faster, but he didn’t follow up on the impulse that pushed him closer to Adam and took the first step out of the tunnel instead.
“Just be careful.”
Ferns and moss covered every bit of ground in sight, and the trees—thick and ancient—were scattered throughout the narrow space, with crooked roots spreading above ground like wooden snakes. The flora here was familiar, but the bushes were bigger, the raspberries growing in a fragrant thatch nearby—made the branches sink under their weight. It was God’s own garden, and every single plant—a perfect specimen of its kind.
They followed a narrow path of moss and flat stones, which serpentined through the lush plant life that carried a scent so much more intense than the cleanest mountain air. But it was only when they pushed through dense bushes and the space opened into a clearing speckled with wild flowers that Emil lost his voice.
An endless sea of fireflies moved from plant to plant in waves, illuminating the whole area with a faint jade and amber glow. Some stragglers were like sparks flying from a fire, other groups of insects crawled up and down trees like rivers and streams. The faint murmur of a creek somewhere beyond the miniature meadow was the perfect soundtrack for the ballet of the lightning bugs.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Emil whispered to Adam, his throat tight from the magnificence of it all. “And I’ve lived here all my life.”
Adam looked back, his mouth stretched into a smile so perfectly relaxed and innocent none Emil had seen before could compare to it. He popped open the top buttons of his cassock and loosened the collar as he took in this chunk of a primeval forest stuck in a hideout since ancient times.
“And it’s so hot. Do you think this place has its own microclimate?” he asked, gradually unfastening the buttons at the front of his outfit.
Emil didn’t think it was that hot, but he wouldn’t object to Adam getting out of the somber garment. He entered the clearing in slow, careful steps, wondering if any animals lived there as well. “Or it’s a magical place. If demons are real, why not this?” he whispered, beckoned closer by a flicker of bright yellow light farther on.
The trees and bushes grew so densely back there he wasn’t sure how they all managed to get enough sunlight during the day, but he pushed through a curtain of huge leaves and followed the stream of fireflies into a small space occupied by a thick carpet of ferns. The constant buzz ringing in his ears, along with birds of the night singing high above, created a hypnotic concoction.
“I think we might be the first to step in here in a very long time,” Adam mused, but the rustle of leaves under his feet became background noise when Emil spotted the source of the light he’d seen earlier.
A flower, reminiscent of an orchid, was the beacon he’d followed. Its petals made of flame that produced neither ash nor smoke, and they pulsed as soon as Emil took a step toward it in breathless admiration. This couldn’t be real.
“Do you see this, or am I drunk?” Emil asked, shivering when Adam’s fingers slotted between his.
“You are not drunk. Maybe it’s… St. Elmo’s fire, or something? An illusion,” Adam whispered, staring at the strange plant as if he expected it to send a fireball his way. He’d completely unbuttoned the cassock and now wore it like a trench coat over a white tank top, which revealed how fast he was breathing.
“Only one way to find out.”
Emil pushed the spiky handle of the torch into the ground between ferns and scooted down in front of the flower, unable to resist its pull despite his better judgment. Anticipating pain, he moved his fingers to the warm flames, but instead of burning him, they licked the digits, as if they were smoke.
A sense of peace filled Emil’s chest along with the intoxicating scent of the forest. He felt small, unimportant in the grand scheme of things, but tonight, he’d been chosen, and even if he woke up tomorrow to find out it had only been a dream, he wanted to hold on to this moment and cherish it forever.
“It doesn’t burn me. There’s no other way, Adam. It’s the fern flower.”
Adam gave a soft laugh, “Shut up. That’s not possible,” he said but wouldn’t stop watching the flames quivering around Emil’s fingers without causing harm. Their eyes met, and Emil felt a tentative touch on his forearm, but before the fog around Emil’s mind could have dispersed, something moved between the trees, and he stiffened, ready to fight off the animal with the torch.
His heart stalled when he looked back into the calm eyes of a bison.
“It’s massive…” Emil whispered, instinctively standing between Adam and the animal. “Don’t agitate him, and there’s no need to fear him,” he said but stiffened when the massive bulk of brown fur and muscle emerged from the bushes and strode toward them at a languid pace.
Emil’s feet grew into the ground when the bison appeared in its entirety, so tall it might not have fit under the ceiling in his home, but it appeared curious rather than aggressive, and sucked in air close to Emil’s chest, as if wanting to know who invaded its sanctuary. And when the beast bowed its head, Emil’s heart stopped.
The orchid wreath the crows had snatched hung from the bison’s horn.
Adam stepped forward before Emil could have stopped him and took the flower crown. With a nervous smile, he placed it on his own head.
Emil held his breath when the bison huffed, shaking its massive head, but instead of charging at them, it took a languid turn and walked off without haste, leaving the two of them in stunned silence.
Emil touched the wreath, and Adam’s brilliant gaze followed the movement of his hand. “You know this means I owe you a kiss? Do you want to keep it as a souvenir? It’s a stupid tradition anyway.”
Adam lost his smile, but he didn’t step away either and stared back at Emil as a stray group of fireflies found its mark in the orchids, setting the wreath alight with their faint glow.
“It’s not a stupid tradition,” he said, and every little hair on Emil’s nape rose when Adam gravitated closer, blue eyes on fire.
“If you want a kiss, you have to take it.”
Adam took a deep breath, but when his soft gaze focused on Emil’s lips, his touch became palpable even before it happened. Adam’s fingers were smooth against Emil’s neck and jawline, but they pulled him down nevertheless. A shiver resonated through Emil’s solar plexus when Adam licked at the seam of his mouth.
Emil was more than eager to let him in and opened his lips. He was only human and wouldn’t insist on preserving Adam’s virtue for him, so he slid his hands under Adam’s cassock, to the deliciously narrow hips. That kiss was innocent, an exploration of what things could be. Adam let out a soft sigh, leaning closer as he explored Emil’s lips with curiosity that had nothing in common with the aggressive sexuality he’d expressed when the demon had had its hold on him.
But as he stepped closer, pushing his chest against Emil’s, heat simmered between their bodies like lava about to burst into the open. Adam wasn’t holding back anymore and kissed Emil with the desperation of a man who’d been starving and got his first spoonful of butter, honey, and cream.
Emil’s head spun when he realized he could sense Adam’s heartbeat where their breast bones were so close together, and his own moved in sync so faithfully to Adam’s it felt as if both hearts were his.
Adam’s lack of experience showed in the way he curled his hands in the fabric instead of pulling off clothes, but his desire, pure and honest like that of a teenager who got to touch a lover for the first time, was a ray of sunshine dispersing the gloom of Emil’s world.
Emil moved his hands around Adam’s hips and squeezed his ass, shivering with the need to see it naked again, to bury his face in Adam’s neck, and taste his sweat. Adam was pure t
emptation. Emil’s very own serpent, which tightened its body around his victim’s neck and whispered sweet nothings into his ear. But instead of fearing the snake, Emil would have been happy to wear the reptile around his shoulders every day.
Adam pulled away, looking into Emil’s gaze like a doe about to bolt, but instead of pushing him away, he pulled off the cassock and nipped Emil’s chin, rosy-cheeked as if that little bite was the height of daring. “We can… use this,” he said, as if uncertain what he wanted to do about the long garment.
But Emil knew. He spread the fabric over the thick undergrowth in the middle of the clearing, right by the burning fern flower, and pulled Adam’s hips closer as soon as he was back up.
Adam let his forehead rest on Emil’s collarbone and the torchlight revealed all the goosebumps peppering the smooth skin of his shoulders. Emil needed to act, because Adam clearly wanted to offer him the reins.
He sat down on the cassock-blanket and urged Adam to do the same with a gentle pull. Adam fell into his arms, and Emil rolled them over, so they lay side by side, mouths joined in a kiss that, for all Emil cared, could’ve lasted forever.
With the fern flower burning close by, surrounded by the floating fireflies, and overlooked by the stars, they existed beyond time, and he wanted to believe that they would never have to leave the safety of their green cocoon.
Emil had been sure that after the traumatic experience of demonic possession, Adam would never want him again, but whether it was the magic of this night, the destiny of Adam grabbing Emil’s wreath, or luck brought by the fern flower, after a week apart, Adam’s lips only tasted sweeter.
Adam gasped for air, his knee climbing the side of Emil’s thigh as they rocked together, fueled by passion that left them without a care for the stones and sharp branches poking them through the fabric. In this enchanted moment, in an undiscovered part of the woods, even Adam could forget who he was and submit to his desires.
Toned legs slotted around Emil’s hips, but they soon rolled over again, and Adam landed on top, rocking his hard cock against Emil through all the layers of fabric still preserving his modesty. He broke the kiss to look at Emil, but as the pearlescent bugs swirled above, creating a halo around his handsome form, the flirty light dimmed in his eyes. He lifted his hips, as if reality had only now hit him.
Where the Devil Says Goodnight Page 19
