A stranger? What was he talking about? "This is a prank, right? I have to say, this is cruel, even for you."
"Not a prank, Marcus. I-I wanted to tell you, but I was— everyone I ever loved has left me, so I thought I had to push you away before you could leave me, too. I suppose you don't know what I'm talking about. I-I'm not who you think I am. I mean... who do you see?" he finished uncertainly.
He looked like Sebastian. He sounded like Sebastian. But his words were not something he'd ever heard from Sebastian's mouth. "If that's you, Kitty, it really isn't funny." Then he noticed Bastian's feet. Too dark to see if they were green, but the toes looked long and curled and familiar. He was wearing the slippers! But wait, didn't the shoes supposedly hide themselves? Did that mean...?
"I'm not who I appear."
"I rather hope you are," Marcus said cautiously. "Tell me again why you're here?"
"I only have tonight. I love you, and I want to-to kiss you, and... whatever else you'll allow."
He thinks he's anonymous! He thinks he's saying these things from someone else's face, in someone else's voice! Marcus's heart skipped a beat and resumed, a little faster. He pushed the covers back. "I'm— normally I don't just fall into bed with a stranger, but I've— I fell in love with someone and he hurt me. So, so I guess this would be some sort of..."
"Revenge sex?" suggested Bastian after a pause, a smile not very well hidden in his voice.
"I guess," Marcus said. "Is it revenge if he doesn't know about it?" He climbed out of bed and was surprised to hear an intake of breath. If it really was Bastian, did that mean...? He hoped he was right.
"You're so damn beautiful," Bastian said, voice raw and he claimed Marcus' mouth with a ravenous kiss. "And naked. You torture me."
"Take your clothes off," Marcus whispered, his voice ragged as Bastian's hands slid all over him.
The two men fell into the bed, and Marcus was swept away by Bastian's passion, his sheer skill at finding all the right places to touch, to kiss, to nibble, to suck, and he tried to reciprocate, but soon all was lost and the most glorious part was listening to Sebastian's declarations of love. It was not his first sex, but it surely was the best and then they did it all over again. "I wish I could, I wish I dared to let myself love you in my real face."
"I know who you are," Marcus whispered.
"No, you don't. You never will."
Marcus smiled into his hair. "If you'll let me, I'll stay with you. I won't ever leave you."
"You don't even know who I am."
He opened his mouth to say, "Bastian" but realized he'd been saying it most of the night, in whispers and moans and cries... and Bastian hadn't noticed. He smiled and the smile turned into a grin as heard Bastian's breathing slow into the unmistakable rhythms of sleep. Morning would be soon enough to tell him.
*~*~*
Sebastian first was aware of the bright room, then of the warmth of the body he was curled around. He never woke up with someone, he always sent them home, and then he remembered. The shoes. Marcus.
He opened his eyes. Marcus looked almost angelic in the morning sun. It poured through the window, catching glints of red in his dark blonde hair. So beautiful, so talented, so not-a-virgin. An involuntary smile twitched across his lips. Only two lovers perhaps, but at least one had been a very thorough teacher.
His gaze travelled past Marcus to the sketch of himself on the easel. Marcus drew him so... clearly. Then he saw the green velvet slippers, discarded on the floor. He was no longer shielded by illusion. He hadn't even thought of that when he'd kicked them off, but the night had done what magic couldn't do without the shoes. He had to get out of there, without waking Marcus.
But even as the thought crossed his mind, Marcus made a small sleepy sound and rolled over, his face pressing into Sebastian's collarbone, his arm draping over his waist. Sebastian waited, to see if Marcus would return to sleep. Instead he began moving his lips over Sebastian's skin.
He couldn't stop his indrawn breath.
"Bastian," Marcus murmured, eyes still closed, voice soft with sleep.
"I'm..."
Marcus opened his eyes. Deo, but he had lovely eyes. "You're not going to take it back, are you?"
"Wh-what?"
"The things you said last night? That you love me?"
"Y-you knew it was me?"
A small smile curved Marcus's lips. "Yes. Didn't Kitty tell you how the slippers work?"
"She said..." He had to think—what exactly had she said? "She said I would be covered by an illusion, that would you see an illusion."
"Whomever sees you while you are wearing the shoes, sees the one they love. I love you, on the chance you didn't hear me last night, of course I saw you. I would see you no matter who was wearing them, so I was rather glad it was you. The fact I could see the slippers, rather than some other illusion, told me it was you. And the words you said." Marcus kissed his cheek.
Sebastian wasn't sure what to say. "You see me, you know who I really am. A, a fraud."
Marcus chuckled. "You are a Master Artist with the Eye. I love the person you are, not the arrogant bastard you pretend to be. The one who sends a messenger back and forth across a courtyard. It was she, the one who hurt you, who couldn't see the real you."
Dare he believe that?
Marcus shifted, catching Sebastian's eyes. "I was with Johan for two years; it was my coming to the city that parted us. But I told you true that I didn't love him. I thought I did, at the time, but," he shrugged. "I forgot him too easily, let him go too easily."
"He was the one...?"
Marcus chuckled again. "I wanted to see your face, when you realized that only two lovers did not mean I was inexperienced. But I mention him because we were together two years. If I can stay that long with one for whom my feelings were only warm, can't you have some faith I'll be at least as loyal to you?"
He wanted to say yes. "Those things you said last night, the promises you made—you said them to me, you knew it was me all the time."
"Yes," Marcus agreed softly. "I love you. You, did you mean the things you said to me?"
His smile was cautious. "Yes."
Marcus kissed his cheek again, and Sebastian caught his face in one hand and took another on the mouth. Marcus didn't seem to mind.
"It won't be easy," Sebastian warned. "I am still your mentor, your teacher. The others will…"
Marcus laid a finger over his lips. "My father told me nothing worth having is easy. But it's called the City of Dreams because dreams come true, isn't that what they say?"
"So it would seem, my beautiful Marcus." So it seemed, indeed.
FIN
About the Author
Sydney Blackburn has travelled coast to coast in Canada, but hasn’t yet seen it all. Having worked a variety of interesting occupations from cab driver to blackjack dealer, combined with a voracious appetite for research (writing all the while!); Syd delivers light, escapist fiction with fascinating characters in a variety of settings, perfect for the bus, train, plane–or a sick day at home with a cup of hot tea!
You can find her at:
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SydneyBee/
Website: http://sbtales.weebly.com/
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Twitter: @blackburnsyd
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