“Do as I say!” Lissandro yelled.
“Lilo, what’s going on?” Selen asked.
Louis passed his bag over his head and tossed it further on the ice with open irritation. He took a step towards them. “Can you tell me…”
A piercing, cracking sound came from under the snow. Louis’s eyes widened with terror and his face turned rigid. He is going to panic. Don’t move… Lissandro thought. But Louis took a step back. The ice exploded around and under him with gushes of water. In a split second, Louis slipped right under the surface and vanished.
“Louis!” Selen shouted and was on his way to run when Lissandro pushed him to the side.
“Not you!”
Lissandro threw his bag on the snow and removed his coat. He scurried towards the hole and plunged into the water. As he had expected, he barely felt the cold. The water was several feet deep. Yet, faint light passed through, and he could spot Louis’s body sink towards the depths. In water barely above thirty degrees, Louis had been pierced by thousands of swords instantly, losing his air and all will to struggle. Lissandro swam to his friend. He pushed back Louis’s floating hair to see his face and realized that Louis had already lost consciousness—if his heart hadn’t stopped already. Passing his arm under his armpit, Lissandro hauled his companion towards the surface. Louis wasn’t a weight, but his clothes were. Lissandro knew he should remove the engorged wools and furs. Yet, should he survive, Louis would need his clothes. Never mind. Lissandro would have to find food later. He pushed his strength to its limit and reached the surface.
Lying down on the ice, Selen waited for them. He grabbed Louis’s shoulders and dragged him towards the shore where the ice was thick. Crawling on his belly, Lissandro pulled himself out of the water and joined them. The water had been cold. However, it was nothing in comparison to the reaction of his wet clothes to the biting wind. Icicles formed in his hair and whipped his cheeks. Selen bent over the inanimate body of his friend, shaking his shoulders.
“What should I do?” Selen whined in distress.
Louis’s face was white, and his lips had become blue. Lissandro shifted his head and saw no reaction. “He is in hypothermia,” he said. Or dead. He crossed his hands over Louis’s chest. “Every time I stop pressing, blow air in his mouth.”
Lissandro pushed over and over again. Selen did his part. Time passed, and nothing happened. On the shore, their companions waited in silence near a fire. Selen cried and sobbed. His fingers on Louis’s face trembled. I can’t let him panic, Lissandro thought, as anxious as his friend. “Take my place,” he ordered. “And don’t crush his ribs.”
They shifted places. Lissandro put his mouth on the ice-cold lips and emptied his lungs. Crystals already formed in Louis’s lashes and hair. He is dead. It’s too late. Lissandro tilted his shoulders backwards and slapped Louis’s face with all his strength.
“Don’t go die on us! You son of a bitch! I forbid you to die, you hear me?” Lissandro slapped him again. Tears wet his cheeks. “Stay with us. Antoine!”
His hand hit his friend. Louis’s head twisted, and his mouth regurgitated water. Louis coughed and struggled to breathe. Lissandro saw blue appear under his eyelids. He swiveled to Selen. “Carry him.”
Selen lifted Louis up in his arms and followed Lissandro. Near the campfire, their companions had prepared a kind of mattress with branches upon which they had piled their blankets.
“Get him naked. Quick. And lay him down on the bed,” Kilda ordered.
They stripped Louis of his clothes like ravenous dogs on a fallen prey. Selen removed his own tunics. Both men were wrapped up between the blankets. Kilda took a rag and proceeded in drying Louis’s hair. Their friend had barely regained consciousness and fought to stay alive. Lissandro stayed near to check the pulse. Ahanu crouched beside Kilda with a mug in his hand.
“Give him that to drink,” the Child said. The hot beverage smelled of sap, and fir needles floated on the surface.
“You should give him the dog’s alcohol,” Eliot suggested.
“No. Not alcohol,” Lissandro objected. “It would only make it worse.”
“Lissandro?” Folc said while feeding the fire. “Shouldn’t you also do something for yourself? You too were under the water. How is it you don’t…”
Lissandro realized his mistake and interrupted Folc. “Yes! I’m freezing. Oh, I’m freezing,” he exclaimed. He grabbed his shoulders, faked a shiver, and ran around the fire. “I’ll keep myself warm with a good sweat.”
“I’ll search for a shelter while you sweat,” Ahanu said sullenly, showing he wasn’t fooled by his fuss.
After a while, Lissandro went to his bag and changed his wet linens for dry ones.
“Lilo.” Lissandro turned around. Louis sat on his mattress, wrapped up in the blankets. His face had returned to its usual pale colors, disregarding the few frostbites. Selen had given him half of his clothes. “Thank you,” Louis said, staring at him.
“Please. It was a pleasure to slap you,” Lissandro said with a smirk.
Ahanu returned in haste. “I have found shelter. Along the shore.”
The promise of a dry spot to rest made them jump to their feet. Folc threw snow on the fire. Helping each other with the bags and the wet clothes, they walked back to the bank. A few yards away stood two cabins and an upturned boat. They were in good condition and probably used by villagers during summer. They weren’t larger than shacks, but both of them had a little chimney that rejoiced Lissandro’s heart.
They halted in front of the cabins. Louis leaned on Selen’s shoulder. He wore Selen’s coat, and his lips still shivered with cold. Folc hopped on the stairs and checked the inside of the first cabin. He stepped out.
“It’s tiny. We will have to divide us into two groups,” Folc said.
“Can we make a fire in there?” Selen asked.
“Yes. There is some kind of stove,” Folc answered.
“Then we’ll take it,” Selen said and went up the stairs with Louis. “Lilo, you’re coming with us. You need to dry.”
“Our place is a little bigger. I’ll take the dog with us,” Folc said.
While they entered the cabin, the rest of their companions headed towards the other shack. Lissandro went in and closed the door behind him. The place was narrow, cold, but not humid. It was built of timber and masterfully isolated against the elements to last for ages. Lissandro looked at the stove. It was rudimentary and had stones on it. Lissandro made the connection with the bench and understood that the shack must be used as a sauna as well.
“All we need is birch branches,” Lissandro said with a chuckle.
“What did you say?” Selen asked. He was busy hanging their wet clothes on an old rope hanging from the rafters.
“I said we need wood. I can go fetch some.” It would also be an occasion for him to find some food.
“It’s out of the question,” Selen snapped. “You need to dry. I can do that.” He put on his coat and left.
Lissandro made a face. If he didn’t want to be forced to explain why the cold didn’t affect him, he needed to play it low and follow his friends’ recommendations. But he would need to eat. Soon. In the corner of the cabin, on the large bench, Louis rested, wrapped in his blankets again.
“How do you feel?” Lissandro asked.
“Better,” Louis answered. “And slightly humiliated. I feel like a fool.”
“You couldn’t know. We were seven persons heavily loaded. It could have happened to any of us.”
“It’s the second time I’ve been stripped naked. I hope it won’t happen again.” Louis puckered his lips.
“Trust me. We were all too busy to keep you alive to judge your anatomy. Besides, Kilda reminded me of the kind of blasé nurses no one wants to face in a hospital. As for the first time, it never happened,” Lissandro insisted, brushing the bad memories away. They shared a smile.
Selen entered the cabin, his arms full of wood and dry kindling. “I picked up as much as
I could find. I hope it will hold through the night. I took a few logs from the other cabin as well.” He dropped the heap near the stove and started a fire.
“If this is built like a sauna, the air will turn dry soon. We will have to regulate the fire not to suffocate,” Lissandro said. He spread a blanket on the floor and lay down on it.
It wasn’t long until the warmth spread in the narrow space. Lissandro and his friends took their ease and removed the clothes that were moist or stifling, keeping only one pair of pants. The horrors of the last shelter were easy to forget, and you could count on Selen to pack at least one bar of soap, which turned this shack into a palace. A bucket in hand, Selen went to fetch water from the lake.
“The prospect of a wash fills me with joy,” Lissandro said. Out of habit, he strained his nose to sniff his armpits. The smell of sweat had turned out to be a memory, but his desire for cleanliness lingered.
“It’s not worth a bath, but I’m not warm enough to immerse myself right now anyway,” Louis said. He closed his eyes and laid his head back against the wall. In the light of the stove, the shadows on Louis’s face gave him the appearance of a Georges de La Tour’s painting.
Selen returned, brushed the snow from his shoulders, and put the bucket on the stove. On a hook, he held two fat fishes that were already cleaned.
“It seems I haven’t lost my skills,” Selen mumbled, removing his coat and boots. “It would be ridiculous to waste our provisions when so close to a lake.” He tossed a blanket over the rope to create a screen. Lissandro understood it was intended for him. “Wash first, Lilo,” Selen said. With sharp moves, he used the kindling to weave a lattice.
Lissandro stared at Selen with sadness. I don’t know what happened, but anger doesn’t suit you, he thought before slipping behind the blanket.
In an alcove not larger than a toilet cabin, he knelt over the bucket and soaped his face, armpits, and hands. In the meantime, Selen prepared the fish over the stove. After his quick wash, Lissandro returned to settle down on his blanket. On a piece of birch bark, Selen handed him his portion. Instead of the usual bread and cheese, they feasted on grilled trout. Though it was delicious, Lissandro still felt that his energy was low.
“I think I need to go out for a…stroll,” Lissandro said, a hand on his stomach as if pretexting a need to urinate.
Selen wiped his brow and shook his head. “It’s pitch black outside. Give us a minute, and you can use the bucket. Not the best comfort, but better than releasing the heat, don’t you think?” he nearly scolded him.
The heat. It was unbearably warm in the shack. Dizziness was taking hold of him. A drop of sweat trickled down Selen’s chest, confirming it wasn’t an impression. Lissandro’s gaze fixed on it as the drop slid around a curve of muscle and missed within a hairbreadth a rosy, erected nipple. His lips twitched. He could nearly taste the salt under his tongue. Selen raised his arms and unbraided his hair with slow moves. Strands of hair stuck on his neck.
“You’re probably right,” Lissandro murmured, captivated by the pulsing lines under Selen’s gleaming skin.
Selen tossed the rest of the fish and the bark into the fire. His jaws clenched, and he moved behind the blanket, which shifted slightly. Holding on to the bucket’s rim, he paused, his head low. Wondering if it was more than exhaustion, Lissandro sat up straight and was on his way to comfort his friend when Louis slid from the bench and crept behind Selen. With a lump in his throat, Lissandro watched Louis brush Selen’s hair to the side and whisper something in his ear. Selen closed his eyes and flickered a smile as Louis’s mouth kissed the soft spot behind his earlobe. Lissandro’s teeth ground, and he felt nauseated. Louis’s manly hand skimmed Selen’s waist. His elegant fingers reached for Selen’s, and they entwined over Selen’s navel. The more intensely Louis’s avid mouth worked on Selen’s throat, the heavier Lissandro’s chest turned, as if constricted in a vise. Selen’s features smoothed out, and his other hand reached for Louis’s head where it slid through the long locks. It was a stab in Lissandro’s heart. He shifted his gaze and lay down on his side. Now, he wished the warmth would choke him. He could wait a bit and slip outside once his friends were asleep. His eyelids flickered a few times before he fell into slumber.
A pleasant smell woke him up. It stirred his senses at once. Sweet and intoxicating. The perfume of pulsing blood veins. The perfume of lust. Lissandro raised an eyelid. The dark room was still bathed in the orange-red light of the stove. His companions lay on the bench. Eyes closed, Selen sat and leaned against the wall, his legs spread. Though they had pulled blankets over them, the tension in Selen’s features and his mouth curved open were explicit. Selen’s head tilted to the side, revealing a dark spot on his neck. His arm stretched across his torso and disappeared under the blanket. Desire flooded in Lissandro’s veins. He took a deep intake of breath. He didn’t smell an ocean of sweat, yet. Their skins were as fresh as they could be in this sauna. His friends probably thought that he was exhausted and thus fast asleep. He wondered if their embrace would turn out as in the Children’s village. His prying eyes had observed them, but they had never made out. The hot air in the cabin increased his perception. Out of the corner of his eye, he stared at them. The vision stirred him up. Along with jealousy, envy grew inside him, but it was a tantalizing fire. He knew he would never be welcomed to join his friends. Worse, should he try, he might lose his life. However, there was still a way. The good angel in his mind beseeched him to stop, but as often, the devil was stronger. It was a craving he had built up for far too long and, so far, he had used his capacities more than once. So far, you have made a mess, the good angel said. Anyhow, what he could do now was harmless. But totally unethical, the angel insisted. No one will know, the devil whispered. Yes, no one would know.
Lissandro closed his eyes and relaxed all his limbs. Progressively, he let his heartbeat drop. His breathing nearly stopped. His heart contracted one time, two, three… Then he was gone. His mind swirled out of him, carried away on a milky cloud.
Eyelids opened. He saw. And felt. The burning in his loins was tremendous and irradiated through his limbs. He lowered his gaze and was lost in the sapphire eyes looking up at him from between his thighs. Under the mesmerizing, swaying stare and the voluptuous touch, his chest rose and fell deeply. Before he could isolate each feeling, he pulled up his hand, coiled in locks of hair. The ravishing pleasure stopped with a popping sound, and wet lips trailed up his abdomen. A naked, hot body weighed on him. Firm hands caressed his torso. A thumb rubbed his nipple. A plump mouth he had lusted after for an eternity closed on his. The lips were generous, and the kiss, smooth. Lissandro tasted it and let the ravishing tongue choke him. As long curls brushed both his cheeks, his nostrils were overwhelmed by a perfume of violet. Louis’s loud breathing against his face increased the tension in his loins. One of his willowy legs moved and rubbed against Louis’s. The strength and length of his own legs surprised him. They fell wider apart. His body was in heat. He forced his mind to ease and returned to lethargy. His hands caressed Louis’s back. It was soft but slim and curved. The line of ribs jutted out slightly along the spine. He drove his short nails into the flesh. In return, two fingers twisted his nipple, increasing his arousal. One of his hands trailed down and grabbed a smooth, firm cheek. Thus Louis’s hips pressed against his, squeezing their swollen members against each other. The friction was rapturous. He breathed the musky scent of their hair and of the sweat pearling on their groins. He stifled a sound. Louis’s mouth grazed down to the side of his head.
“Keep quiet, Selen,” his friend whispered, his hot breath coating his ear.
Lissandro’s mind jerked, but he didn’t lose his grip. Dragging more strength from his unconscious, he boosted his mind and shifted place. Green eyes faced him.
Deep, emerald eyes stared at him with desire. Lost in their beauty, he laid a kiss on Selen’s delicate, curved mouth. He lingered on it until he pulled away to get a view. Selen’s mouth was slightly open, and
the white rim of his teeth shone in a tender smile. Selen’s eyes were bathed with love. He wondered how this sweet face would look once on the verge of climax. Would it give a lewd smile or lose itself in a silent scream? Such pureness, added to the firm hand cupping his cheek, put him into rut. With his fingers, he outlined Selen’s jawbone and brushed the long, lilac hair, as if combing through waves of silk. The hand left his cheek, and heels sank into his lower back. Moving his head down, he licked Selen’s manly throat and nibbled a pink nipple before gliding his tongue over it in circles. The tip turned hard and rough. He tasted Selen’s salty sweat in his mouth. Selen’s hand closed on his neck, and he climbed up for a kiss.
“What can I do to thank you for last time?” he whispered in Selen’s ear. “Ask anything.”
“Don’t make me wait longer,” Selen’s voice answered him, and he bucked his hips to give their squeezed shafts more gliding friction.
I hope I won’t. Lissandro didn’t control Louis’s moves, as he hadn’t controlled Selen’s. He didn’t try to read their thoughts either, as they might perceive the intrusion. Besides, as comforting as it felt, the affection they oozed wasn’t aimed at him. They craved each other, though both their hearts were soaked with sadness. All Lissandro did was to feed on their senses, making each feeling his own. Greedy, he seized the minds of both his friends and found himself lying between their naked bodies.
While Selen groped his bottom, Louis pulled up his torso with one hand and slid the other between his cheeks. A finger circled and stroked him. Not an unknown feeling but oddly vivid. Looking down, Lissandro noticed he had his hand between Selen’s thighs. His mind whirled as he saw Selen’s loins for the first time. Roseate, shivering skin on a field of gold. An angel couldn’t be more exquisite. Selen laid a hand on his and encouraged him to use his fingers, which he did with a dexterity that surprised him. A deftness the fondling inside him could equal. Clouded by the tingles on his soft spot and the hot breath on the side of his neck, he let his gaze wander on Selen’s exposed intimacy. His other hand cupped the fat mount, rolled it on his palm, and went to grab higher. Forgetting it wasn’t his hands, Lissandro relished every bit to the hand jerking him. As the fingers danced, there wasn’t a spot on Selen’s body that didn’t betray his intense pleasure. His eyes squeezed shut and, a hand to muffle his whimpers, Selen writhed but managed to fasten his grip on the bench under him.
Light from Aphelion 2 - Tears of Winter Page 37
