by Lyssa Dering
At a loss, I relax against the sofa. It’s comfortable—extremely so. I assumed there wouldn’t be sleep or physical exhaustion after death, but if even Wish himself needs a night off, this place must be similar to… I don’t know what to call it. Life? St. Louis? I want to sleep. I want to unleash my power, but I also want to sleep.
Wish holds the popcorn bowl in front of me. “Want some?”
“No, thanks.”
“If you’re hungry or thirsty, there’s all kinds of stuff in the fridge. Water, wine, beer, cheesecake—”
“I said no.”
Wish gives me a tight smile. “Okay. You’ve been through a lot, so I’ll forgive you for being snappy.”
On the TV screen, Harley Quinn appears and does a running jump into the Joker’s arms.
I wrap my robe tightly around myself.
2
Wish
Lake’s power gives me the willies. He’s looking pretty non-threatening right now, though, curled up on the couch with his hands under his cheek, dozing. I drape my afghan over him and tuck it under his chin, and he doesn’t stir.
Probably safe to pull up my database then. If he sees it, oh well. It doesn’t necessarily need to be a secret.
I replace my B:TAS episode with a menu of all the specials I know about so far. This requires creative energy, since I haven’t bothered to make a remote or a keyboard, and I told myself I was going to rest my brain all night tonight. But a new person showing up in my city is kind of an extenuating circumstance, especially since I never met Lake before we died.
I wonder how he survived on his own in the Earth dimension and managed not to get caught. At least, I’m pretty sure the government never caught him, because if they had, he would have died on an operating table like I did, undergoing their shit surgery that never works—in a gown instead of his Sunday best.
I add a new entry in my database, complete with a picture of Lake as he is right now, sleeping. The entry is mostly incomplete at the moment, with only the Age and Power fields filled in. If he’s anything like the rest of us, he won’t know much about his own abilities, how to control them, the side effects, etc. I guess I should be grateful he can’t manipulate matter or something.
“Storing information on me?”
I jump, and so does my heartbeat. “Yeah. Been trying to gather as much info on all of us as I can.”
Gaze still a little dreamy from sleep, Lake runs his fingers through his bangs. With his arm lifted, the sleeve of his robe falls back, revealing some ink.
I almost grab his wrist so I can get a look, but I don’t want to freak him out again. “Can I see your tattoo?”
Lake shows me his forearm. From the underside, a pair of androgynous grayscale eyes, twisted with emotion and spilling crocodile tears, stare up at me.
I can only imagine it’s some kind of specials’ pride tattoo. “Pretty dangerous to have a tattoo like that showing what your power is.”
Lake shrugs. “When people ask about it, I say it’s a reminder to stay in touch with my emotions.”
Looking into Lake’s cool eyes, I can’t see anybody buying that story. “Why tears? Why not a picture of somebody grinning?”
Lake’s gaze goes straight-up icy, and we stare at each other for several seconds as tension shrouds the room. Touchy subject, I guess. Lake seems touchy about a lot of things. But I know he’s probably stressed about dying and being in a new place and all.
“Don’t want to talk about it?” I ask.
“We shouldn’t.” He looks at my screen. “You took a picture of me sleeping?”
I replace the photo with what he looks like now, all mean and narrow-eyed. “Better?”
He shakes his head. “What are you using this information for?”
“To keep track of who comes here and what they can do so I don’t run into problems.”
Lake’s shoulders straighten. “You mean like the U.S. government does? With you and me?”
If I were a violent person, I’d slap Lake. Really. And if I weren’t trying to be a good leader, I’d turn his nose into a dick. “Yeah, just like the government. Except, I don’t know, I’m not going to fucking give people lobotomies.”
Stiffly, Lake shrugs. “Just checking.”
“Help me fill this out.”
“Why do you need it? I already told you I won’t cause problems.” Lake stares at my screen for a while. “Sexual orientation? Really?”
“I don’t like to assume.”
“Well here are your answers. Ready?”
“Mhm.”
“I’m into everyone and no one.” Lake talks with his hands. “Gender is just arbitrary categories I can’t be bothered with. You don’t need to know my height and weight because I can’t think of anything more irrelevant.” He pauses, his slightly sunken cheeks reddening. “Want to know my star sign, too?”
He’s obviously being sarcastic, but I can’t help but poke at him. “Yeah, sure. And your Myers-Briggs, if you don’t mind.”
Lake meets my gaze, unblinking, and I refuse to blink first this time. A few seconds tick by before he gives in with a theatrical sigh. “Aquarius, ISTJ. Happy?”
“Thrilled.” I add both to Lake’s entry for the hell of it. “I’m a Gemini. Pretty sure that means we’re compatible.”
Lake bursts into a hearty laugh. The abrupt change in mood puts me on alert, but the way his eyes crinkle at the corners and underneath gives me a punch to the gut with how unexpectedly cute it makes him. He has an interesting face otherwise—strong jaw, high cheekbones, prominent ears and nose. Like his cheeks, his eyes are a bit sunken. But when he smiles, everything stretches or folds, and he looks like a mischievous imp.
I like him.
“You know astrology is fake, right?” he asks.
“Mmm, I don’t know. If I can create a dimension just by thinking it up, astrology being real doesn’t seem that far off a possibility. I mean, reincarnation is real.”
“No, it isn’t.”
I know for a fact reincarnation is real, but it seems like a lot of work for no benefit to prove it to Lake. Which is a type of thought I’ve never had in my life. Ugh, I’m running out of mental juice. I shouldn’t have started messing around with my database just because the excitement of a new visitor gave me an energy boost.
I get up and switch off the TV manually then linger in front of its expansive blackness. “Anyway, Aquarius and Gemini are both quick-witted signs and both air. We could form a strong mental connection. Theoretically.”
“I think this is the second time you’ve hit on me.” I can hear the smile in Lake’s voice.
I look at him over my shoulder. “I like to flirt, but if you’re uncomfortable, I’ll stop.” Either way, it’s nice to talk to someone I didn’t make. My creations have personalities of their own, but their knowledge is limited to what I know. Aside from myself, my ex-possession Seraphim is the only soul from the Earth dimension here in Wish City. And while we’re on friendly terms, our past together is…bumpy. I like to give him space.
“If I was uncomfortable, I’d tell you,” Lake says. “Are you okay?”
I turn around. “Why? Do I not look okay?”
“You look tired. Not like…normal people look tired. But I can sense something.”
In the Earth dimension, my face used to get uglier the more tired I got. I hated it. Now, it stays fresh all the time. “Does your power include enhanced empathy?”
“I wish. But if I want to know what someone’s feeling, I have to observe it like everyone else. Or I have to make them feel what I want.”
Lake’s words turn over in my stomach. I hope he hasn’t gotten the idea that I’d be up for changing more than his appearance. “I don’t mess with other people’s powers, FYI. Only if I absolutely have to.”
His brow creases. “I wasn’t asking you to. I like my power.”
“Good.” I hover awkwardly in front of the couch. “Your power kind of scares me, personally.”
Lake ge
ts an intense look in his eyes, then he gets up and stalks toward me. He stops too close for a casual conversation but not close enough to touch. “You think people aren’t scared of your power?”
“Some are, but you don’t look scared.”
Lake shrugs. “It must be hard having a power so big.” His voice is soft, swirling around me like vapor. Is this him flirting back? I’ve been with a lot of guys, and some of them get like this: intense, focused. “Do you have to keep track of a lot of things?” he asks.
“Yeah.” And I’m not doing a great job of it. Too many people, too many places, both of them either not doing enough on their own or doing way too much without me knowing. But I won’t tell Lake that.
He smirks. “Maybe you should clone yourself. Then you could do all the work with half the effort.”
Ha! Clone myself? And have another me running around doing Universe-knows-what? No, thanks!
I must be laughing like a crazy person because Lake isn’t smiling anymore.
“Sorry,” I say.
Lake is still standing a little too close, and even though he’s shorter than me, something about him makes me want to seek comfort like a child—tell him I’ve scraped my knee and have him clean it up. He’s focusing so hard on me that it’s making me a little weak in the knees.
It hasn’t been a long time since I’ve had sex, but for months, it’s been with people I’ve made. No one from Earth.
“You laugh without telling me what’s funny, Wish.”
“Maybe I don’t want to tell you.”
We stare at each other—another contest. I should just come out with an offer. Otherwise, Lake might stare at me all night without doing anything. “If you’re up for it, we could fool around. It wouldn’t have to mean anything. Wouldn’t make things awkward later, anyway.”
Lake doesn’t flinch. “Mmm, I don’t work like that, unfortunately.”
“How do you work?”
Lake’s jaw ripples beneath his faintly freckled skin. “Always means something with me. I’m not good at casual.”
It’s refreshing to hear someone say that before the sex. On Earth, it often seemed like the other person was into it for the same reasons I was—feeling good—but later, they’d be surprised I didn’t have the energy for love while I was busy trying to make a world. I’m not sure I have the energy now, but it might be nice to pretend for a while. And if Lake tries to get too intense, I can always pull us back. I’m good at that.
“I’ll allow for the possibility of it meaning something.” I trace the plush edge of one of Lake’s bathrobe flaps, careful not to make contact with his body.
He glances down at my finger. Then he looks into my eyes with his moody brown ones, his brow wrinkled like this is the hardest decision he’s ever made.
It’s cute.
“Alright,” he says. “Go ahead and touch me.”
I slide my hand under his robe, and just feeling his skin against my palm has me burning up. This is what I need: sex with a real man, a fellow special. Universe, I hope he’s good.
Lake pets the back of my neck, sending a rush of tingles over my scalp, and gets close enough for our noses to touch. “Show me to your bedroom.”
My cock swells. “This way.”
Lake
Wish takes me down a dark hallway. This is such a bad idea. Nothing good can come from getting involved with the guy in charge of my afterlife—my soul. But I’ve been drawn to him for a while. In fact, he’d probably think I’m a stalker if he knew how I combed through the internet, looking for information on him. One commenter boasted he’d hooked up with Wish in a club, but under scrutiny, he’d admitted he couldn’t prove it because Wish could change his appearance. I’ve heard of specials who can only do that, but Wish can do everything. He’s like a god.
I try to get my head in the game. Sex. Right now. Wish’s hand gripping mine and yanking me into the bedroom.
Neon strips line the woodwork, lending the space a bluish glow.
“Look up,” says Wish.
Above us, the night sky gleams as if we’re standing outside, yet the temperature is as even as it was in the living room and the air as still. Peaceful. The tension drains from my shoulders.
“Wow,” I say. “Like magic.”
“I’m magic.”
A rustling at my feet has me forgetting about stars and invisible ceilings. Wish is kneeling, tugging my boxer shorts down to my ankles.
Alright then.
“I got rid of my gag reflex,” Wish says.
I don’t go apeshit over blowjobs like a lot of guys do, and an easy throat isn’t as interesting as a willing body despite whatever discomfort I put it through, but I can understand why Wish would tell me this. “Did you? When?”
“Right after my first blowjob.” Wish rubs my naked thighs—does he like the fur, the shape? I’ve tried to make myself muscular and intimidating, but compact muscles are the best I can achieve.
Wish cradles my cock in his warm hand and strokes, sending me hardening a little. Though it’s nearly dark, I can see Wish’s eyes like glass staring up at me. He really is a stunning thing. This is like being in a museum after dark and slipping past the ropes to touch forbidden stone. I trace his perfect cheekbone.
“Do you like to boss your lovers around?” Wish asks.
What I like are lovers made raw and defenseless, zeroed in on me, moving on endorphin-soaked instinct. I like psychobabble pouring from their lips and desperation—at first tightening them up then making them loose when I gift them with my attention.
Wish probably isn’t into that, which is…fine.
“I like to boss them sometimes,” I say. “Maybe not in the way you think.”
“I’m used to doing the bossing.”
I stroke Wish’s full bottom lip, and he sucks my thumb into his mouth. Unfortunately, he might as well be a sex doll right now. His expression is pleasant, but his armor is impenetrable; I can’t see inside him at all. And as much as I hate myself for it, it’s a turnoff.
Control is less important than what someone willing to give in the moment.
“Do you get tired of being in charge?” I ask. “Ever want to let go?”
“No.” Wish fondles my balls. “Will you let me top you?”
I shrug. “I don’t care too much about the mechanics.”
Wish looks at my still half-hard dick and bites his lip. “Great. You wanna fuck my mouth first?”
I put my hand in Wish’s curls, which are unbelievably soft, and will myself to get harder. Wish wants to give me pleasure. He wants my cock on his tongue. And it’s a nice idea, but I need more. Wish wants this to be a transaction—his mouth for my hole, but I…
Nervous sweat pricks my temples. I need to connect with him, or this won’t be worth anything. I’ve always found lovers in the kink scene and wrapped my power in the disguise of emotional sadism, and I don’t need that here. But at the least, I need to feel something. I need Wish to feel something.
I turn away. “Let’s lie down.”
“Um. Okay, sure.”
I head for the bed, discarding all of my clothing on the way. Wish follows, and once I get seated in the middle of the huge mattress, he settles between my legs. He rests a hand on my thigh and knits his brows together.
“What do you need?” he asks. “Do you still want this?”
Anxiety makes my face and neck hot. When I start things, I’m always hoping my body will react like everyone else’s, and in the kink scene, it usually does. But with vanilla partners, I’m rarely as lucky. Do I know why I’m doing this? But of course, I do. This is Wish, leader of the specials, man with the biggest power, and I have a chance at seeing him bare it for me in the dark.
“Please be patient with me,” I say. “I told you I can’t do casual.”
Wish huffs. “But what does that mean?” He kneads my thigh, buzzing with nervous energy. He’s so different from what he was like earlier. I bet not many men stay soft around him, and the emotional
ly sadistic parts of me love that I’ve made him unsure.
I reach between his legs and find boxers full of a stiff cock. “Can you tell me what you like when you’re giving a blowjob? What you like the guy to do for you?”
Wish swallows audibly and meets my gaze. “It doesn’t matter what I want. He’s the one getting sucked.”
I find hot skin at Wish’s boxer slit and stroke gently. “It matters to me. I’m interested in your thoughts and feelings.”
“But I don’t want to think or feel.” Wish pushes my hand away from his crotch.
I grip his wrist and hold it firmly, rubbing the underside with my thumb. “Do you have trouble keeping a clear head during the day?”
Wish scowls. “I can’t have a clear head, Lake. I have to take care of everyone and everything, and my head is the epicenter of it all.” He glances at where I’m touching him, and my cock gives a twitch.
“So, you were lying. You do get sick of being in charge.”
Wish bares his teeth, a flash of shiny white amongst blue-toned shadows. “Yeah, I guess.” He flexes his fingers. “What is this? What do you want?”
“I want to feel you. Kiss me.”
Wish stares daggers at me. Maybe he’ll call this travesty off. But then he dives for my mouth and slams our lips together, shoving me onto my back with the weight of his body. The flaps of his robe tickle my obliques as he sits up. “You’re weird, you know that? Every other guy would have loved for me to blow them, but you’d rather argue.” Wish gives me another hard peck on the mouth. “And kiss.”
“Yeah.” There’s nothing else to say.
Wish shrugs off his robe, exposing toned shoulders. I run my hands over them, and Wish rubs his barely-clothed cock against mine. My semi-erection turns full-blown at last, and a moan escapes me.
“You want to know what I’m feeling, right? You’re hot.” Wish ruts against me in a rhythm. “I love your whole vibe, especially this undercut.” He rubs the buzzed part of my head. “I want to get off on you.”
My scalp tingles where he touched me. “I know.” I trace the knobs of his spine. “I want to cut you open.”
