Behind Bars

by Meredith Katz

  It just wouldn't be pleasant for either of them.

  Tari groaned again, writhing, apparently in genuine pain as their body twisted, horns sprouting, limbs extending oddly, tail winding out behind them. It was a form that Tari had previously carried with pride and power, but now, they seemed vulnerable.

  Vulnerable, and really pissed off.

  "Fuck you, Pel," Tari spat, rising up on their elbows, entire body shaking with rage as much as weakness. "Fuck you!"

  Roselin gaped, recoiling back towards the door frame. "What the—fuck, seriously—a demon—!" It had been years since the inquisition had captured a real demon, as far as Pel knew. Roselin was stunned, unprepared for a revelation of this level.

  "It is," Pel said, deliberately cold. "As you can see, you never captured my son at all, just this monster."

  Tari let out a low growl, threatening and desperate, crouching on the bed, hair falling over their face. "Pelerin Stone—"

  Pel forced himself not to listen, to just look at Roselin. "And if you think that's impressive, look here." He pointed down.

  Roselin's gaze snapped to where he was pointing, lowering her face just in time to meet Pel's fist, rising in a sharp uppercut.

  She let out a shout as he hit her nose with a sickening crunch, sending a spray of hot blood across his face. He grabbed the ward out of her hand as she was left reeling, shoving her hard and slamming her out of through the doorway. He flung the ward down the hall after her, trying to get it out of whatever line would keep Tari confined, and spun back, holding a hand out to Tari, palm up.

  "Come on, Tari!"

  "Wh—"

  "The door's open!"

  For a moment, he didn't think Tari was going to understand, still shocked and betrayed. His heart sank. They stared back at him, blue eyes wild and unseeing, teeth bared, shoulders hunched.

  Roselin was rolling on the floor, stunned and with her nose broken, but she was a fighter. She would be on her feet shortly, and he was no match for her in a fair fight, not unarmed and tired and without the element of surprise on his side. Others, too, would doubtlessly be on their way already, drawn by Roselin's yell. They only had seconds.

  He held out both hands to Tari, desperate, and cried out, "Tari, please!"

  Tari launched off the bed, hooves clattering on stone as they ran across the room, charging at Pel. He drew a sharp breath, but didn't withdraw, keeping his arms out as Tari reached toward him—and grabbed his hands, clasping on tight. Tari's momentum slammed him out of the cell and into the hallway, pressed to the wall with Tari against him. Tari pressed close, sucking a deep relieved breath in, and Pel took advantage of it to kiss them.

  He kissed them hard, desperately, knowing how little time he had for this, and poured all his exhausted stores of desire into them. He thought of everything arousing that he could in that short, frantic time, trying to reach as deeply into himself as possible and find the desire there. All the things he'd wanted to do with them, that night Tari had stopped him. All those nights of loneliness where he didn't pursue pleasure with anyone else. The thrill of this moment, of escaping together, how much he wanted them even now. Even Phalene—that first night together on the roof, their many nights together in the time they'd had. He thought about all those moments, trying to push them into Tari.

  And Tari groaned, accepting that offering and drinking deep. An almost sickeningly strong rush of arousal poured through him, his cock getting hard at once. Tari was taking more than he was giving, forcing his arousal to deepen so they could swallow it down, but Pel allowed it.

  And then their lips parted. Grinning and a little wild-eyed, Tari breathed against his mouth, "Hold on."

  "Wha—"

  "Hold on," they repeated, twisting in his grip so that their back was against his front. The sound of a sword being drawn made his attention snap back to the moment; he could see, over Tari's shoulder, that the guards had arrived. Rosalin was being helped to her feet by one even as she began to draw her blade, but several other were approaching, fully armored and closing in.

  Pel wished he'd brought a weapon. He'd never have been allowed to bring it in, but anything had to be better than having it end like this. He drew a sharp breath, bracing himself for their charge—and as he did, Tari transformed.

  Their shape billowed under him, rising, becoming bigger and bigger. He held onto a neck that thickened to waist width, then more, straining the width of his arms as he was lifted off the floor. It was dizzying, especially in the aftermath of his energy being taken, and he squeezed his eyes shut, scrambling with his legs to find a purchase on the wide, furred sides under him, finding them against the joint between that and leathery wings.

  The manticore under him roared, and he opened his eyes as Tari bounded through the halls, moving fast, swiping guards aside until they broke free of the front door and those strong wings began to beat, launching them into the air.

  "Crossbows," he gasped, more out of fear than from actually spotting any—but Tari was moving fast, too fast, inhumanly so, climbing rapidly. And then, clinging hard and trying not to look down, he yelled accusingly, "Kip said you could only transform into things humans fantasized about!"

  The leonine sides under him vibrated for a moment in a low growled laugh. "Sweetheart," Tari said, voice like thunder, "you have a real shock coming to you about what some people like."

  I'm just… not going to think about that. "So am I 'sweetheart' again?"

  "Looks like you are," Tari said, and circled higher quickly enough that Pel had to shut up to keep the air from being sucked out of his lungs.

  Chapter Ten

  We've done it, he thought in numb shock, eyes squinted shut against the rush of wind. There was no way the Inquisition could be following them. They'd moved quickly and were far past the city already.

  Tari flew above the river, following his directions, but landed before they reached camp. At least, he reassured himself, they had traveled a good way down the path that had taken Pel and the other hours to walk. Tari transformed as soon as Pel was off their back, returning to their intercubus form, though this time wearing their usual clothes rather than Bruant's.

  They didn't look good.

  Tari was wheezing softly with effort, a strained sound to their breath as they stumbled down the river bank to the water, kneeling there and splashing their face.

  Pel watched from a grassy patch just beyond the bank, uncertain for a moment of what to do or say. He waited while Tari refreshed, then rose to walk over to them again, holding out a hand.

  "Hey, uh," he said awkwardly. "I'm sorry."

  Pel wasn't sure how an apology like that would be taken. It was short and simple but covered, he felt, more ground than having to list specifics. Sorry that you ended up stuck there. Sorry that you got hurt. Sorry I had to betray you and force you to violently change forms under immense pain and complete exposure. The basics.

  A vast range of expressions flickered across Tari's face: Annoyance, resignation, amusement. Resignation again. Finally, Tari simply shrugged, dredging up a faint smile. "I can't say I much like an entire inquisitorial force knowing my name," they said, "but I've given it out freely enough before. I've really forgotten what it's like to have that be a threat. It's much less of one when you're living places where folks who try to bind demons would rapidly find themselves overpowered by other demons not wanting them to get cocky."

  "I can't imagine any of us wanting to go back to Dolana any time soon," Pel said, finding to his relief that the thought didn't sting as much anymore.

  He let his hand drop.

  Tari watched the motion with a strange look on their face, leaving Pel to wonder if he'd withdrawn too quickly for Tari to have decided what to do. "No, not any time soon," they said. "You could have, though. If you'd truly sold me out while I was trapped, you could have freed Bruant from their suspicion. Anything he'd been caught doing could have been the work of a transformed demon. Then the two of you could have gone back to your nor
mal lives."

  Pel swallowed. It had occurred to him when Tari had first brought up the plan. "Sure," he said. "But what would have happened to you, then? Or even Kip? Bruant seems pretty…" he hesitated over the word to use, "taken with him. What kind of room would there be for you two in a life like that?"

  "No room at all," Tari said quietly. "Just like that city wants. Just like you wanted."

  "Maybe," Pel said, "I want more in my life than that now."

  He held out his hand again, and this time, Tari took it.

  They sank down on the grass by the river. It was, at least, softer than the stone-covered riverbank. He did wish there was a bed, if they were going to do this. But honestly, if one were available, I'd probably fall asleep before I could do anything else.

  After all they'd been through, he was not going to let that happen.

  Groaning before their mouths even touched, he kissed Tari, sliding fingers into their hair and pressing his tongue between their lips, tasting exhaustion and pain and desire. Tari made a soft sound, tongue twining with his before nipping it, rough—drawing blood with sharp teeth.

  Pel gasped, startled and a little shocked with the spark of pain. Tari didn't need blood, surely—but when he drew back from the kiss to look at them, nose-to-nose, he caught them looking nearly as dazed and hazy as he was sure he did. Tari let out a soft, needy sound as the kiss broke, swaying back forward. The sound shot through Pel in a spike of arousal.

  Maybe it didn't matter if Tari needed blood, strictly speaking. They obviously wanted to taste it. That's fine, isn't it? This much isn't enough to hurt.

  He crushed his mouth to Tari's again, pressing his bloodied tongue back into their mouth.

  Tari moaned around it, swallowing a mouthful as they pressed closer, kissing him frantically. They ate at each other's mouths, grabbing whatever they could touch—waist, hips, shoulders, hair. He found himself changing his grip almost helplessly, as though he couldn't touch enough all at once, hands desperate to feel what he'd been denying them, and finally finding it.

  He broke the kiss again just long enough for them both to suck a quick breath before leaning back in, arms wrapping around Tari and pulling. He sank back under their weight as Tari pressed him into the grass, grinding against him with a sinuous movement, face tight with pleasure. Arching under it, Pel pushed into the touch, breaking the kiss to nip along their jaw to their neck. The mark from before was gone, but it didn't matter; he sucked another one into its place, biting and pulling at the flesh there. It wasn't possession, he thought—just wanting, however briefly, to leave his mark on them.

  "Tari…" he murmured, satisfied, as he drew back to gaze up at them. He felt like there was so much more he wanted to say, but he couldn't get his jumbled thoughts in order. The only thing he could really think was, This is important, and he felt that at the end of a long day of demons and betrayal and inquisitions, that might just be too strange to say.

  Tari let out a short, rough sound, looking down at him with their lips curved. "You might as well use my real name now," they breathed. "So long as you don't mean to bind me to it this time." In one smooth movement, they grabbed the bottom of their shirt and pulled it over their head without undoing half the buttons. Somehow, it didn't get caught on their horns, and given that they'd created the clothes on their own body, he could only assume shapeshifting was involved in that feat.

  He had no complaints about the result. "Tarigan," he murmured obediently, sliding his hands up from their waist, cupping their small breasts, rubbing the rough edges of his thumbs over their nipples and making them shudder. Their mouth had fallen open a little and their brows were furrowed, distracted by the sensation, and he found he was really, really taken with the expression.

  "You're… really cute." He'd found his words, finally, and abruptly wished that he hadn't. It came out unbidden and he felt himself flush, waiting to be teased.

  Startled, Tari snorted a laugh, then bent over him again to kiss him, fierce and quick and heated. "Is that what I am?" they asked, more playful than offended, smirking at him.

  "You're—" Pel groaned as Tari's fingers made quick work of the buttons on his shirt, opening it and then running over his chest, finding his nipples and pinching in return. He let out another low noise, arching up as a new wave of heat rushed through him. "I forget. Shit. I'm tired."

  "You were praising me," Tari reminded him, but drew back reluctantly, looking down at him with their hands spread on his chest. "Are you sure you want to—?"

  Suddenly moved by the thoughtfulness, he touched their cheek. "I'm sure," he said after a long moment. He'd spent a long time trying to guess what other people might want from him, what he could do for them, then doing it regardless of the truth. Bruant had struggled against that, and Phalene—Phalene wasn't even alive to have a say.

  She'd made her own choices, and had followed her heart, wherever that had led her. It was probably about time he tried to do the same.

  "I'm very sure," he told Tari, and found that he meant it. "It's… fine. I'm fine. Come here?"

  Their expression gentled, and for a moment they leaned their cheek into his palm. And then they grinned, pure mischief, eyes glittering as they rose. Standing over him, they said, "Well, then. Get your pants off." They were doing the same, unfastening their belt and shimmying out.

  Pel didn't immediately, not with the view this afforded him. Instead, he watched from the ground, finding his cheeks growing even hotter.

  Quite frankly, it was a view well worthy of admiration. For a moment he just stared, gazing at their erection, the softer mound behind. He swallowed. "You're lovely," he said softly, eyes passing over their lean figure, shuddering with another wave of desire. Still, he slowly shuffled backward to get a better image of the whole: tall twisting horns over long wavy hair, narrow shoulders and slim waist, wide hips, the oddly-angled legs, a tail winding around their ankles.

  A demon, but also just Tari. He acknowledged it, felt it settle, as though something clicked into place and fit there, comfortable and right.

  Tari watched him with heavy eyelids. They gave him a moment, waited until he'd lifted his gaze back to their eyes, then smiled. "Glad you like what you see," they drawled. "Now. Are you going to get your pants off or am I going to have to get them off you?"

  "I think you're going to have to get them off," he said, so hard that it might be difficult, but hoping that Tari would. He found himself grinning at the delighted, hungry look the idea put on their face.

  Laughing, Pel grabbed two handfuls of grass as Tari dropped to their knees and crawled up him, dragging their body against his. Their cock settled between his legs as Tari braced over him, leaning down for another kiss. He let out a shudder, arching up to grind again.

  But he didn't get a chance, letting out a rush of breath as Tari abruptly flipped him. The grass in his hands was pulled out and loose as he scrabbled for another handhold while Tari got a hand on his waistband, dragging his pants off.

  He lay on his front, drawing several quick breaths before Tari was back, leaning down against him, long hair trailing against his skin. "Turn over again," they murmured. "I want to kiss you some more."

  He caught his breath, surprised by the almost romantic tone in their voice but liking it, enjoying the flush of warmth and the swell of affection in his chest, filling something too-long kept empty.

  I'd missed that, too.

  He rolled over, leaning up into the kiss, hands roaming down Tari's back. He found the place where their tail sprouted and curled his fingers around it, curious, letting out a soft chuckle when Tari twisted a little, squirming. "Ticklish?" he managed to ask, grinning.

  "Not the word I'd use," Tari said, grinning back.

  So he did it again, more firmly.

  Tari arched, pleased, straddling his chest to make that easier for him. He shuddered at the intense arousal that washed over him at the way that felt—and felt a spike of anxiety rise, sudden. "I'm tired," he warned, with deep reluct
ance. "I don't know how much I can…"

  "Whatever you can give, I'll take," Tari said, smirking. "Besides, we've got quite a long trip ahead of us. We can do whatever we like, whenever we like."

  "A trip with my son," Pel protested, leaning back to look up at them.

  Tari snort-laughed again, indelicate. "Don't think he won't be sneaking off for privacy too," they said. "We'll find moments to seize. Now, you've got me in this position—what do you want to do with me?"

  Pel shuddered hard, then slid his hands up to draw Tari up higher, closer. Their cock rubbed against his lips and he touched the tip of his tongue to it, wetting his mouth and groaning at the taste.

  "Pel…" Tari's mouth dropped open slightly, horizontal pupils flaring wide in a rush. They drew a shuddering breath in, stomach tensing in anticipation.

  Good—the thought that he could surprise Tari was surprisingly intoxicating, urging him onward to wrap his lips around the head of their cock and draw them into his mouth. He didn't take them deep—didn't dare to, unpracticed as he was—and they didn't try to make it happen, not moving, just gazing down at him with a hitching breath. Instead, he wrapped his fingers around the base, squeezing it as his other hand slid along Tari's ass until his fingers found their soft, wet opening. He pressed them in, curling gently.

  Tari moaned, deep and pleased, arching over him and raising their own hands to tweak their nipples as he sucked at the head, twisting his tongue around it, his fingers working in them. He felt almost overcome with need, aching to be touched, but he didn't want to stop to try to take care of himself. He wanted to make them feel good—wanted to take his time exploring.

  That indulgence appealed to him so much more right then than any physical pleasure would alone.

  It didn't seem to be long at all before Tari planted a hand on the ground beside his head, bent a little and sucking deep breaths. "I want to come," they groaned.

  The sound of it, of Tari saying that to him, hit Pel hard. He struggled to take them deeper in his mouth, wanting to feel them, taste them, unable to stop an involuntary, desperately begging sound.