Reawakening

by Amy Rae Durreson

  Tarn smiled slowly, showing his teeth before he wet his lips deliberately. “Would you like a demonstration of how far from staid I am?”

  “Not in front of the children, boys,” Aline said, and turned to Raif, who was blushing faintly. “Can you ask your father what the views are like from here? One guard on the roof or two?”

  “One,” Namik himself said after Raif had posed the question. He held up his hand to show the number, and then turned to Raif to say something more complex.

  “My father says that from here you can understand why the Zoraia princes thought they ruled the world,” Raif explained, his face solemn and bright. “There is eternity at our feet.”

  “Well, that will give whoever is on watch something to contemplate,” Gard muttered and pouted as Aline flicked his ear. “Ow.”

  “Show some respect,” she said and rose to her feet. “Zeki, you and I have the washing up tonight. Raif, you and Esen settle the horses. Cayl, you good for first watch?”

  “I’ll wake you for the second,” Cayl said and headed up the stairs, calling back, “Put my bedding in the room beside hers so I don’t have to stumble too far.”

  “We’ll set it up,” Gard said and rolled to his feet, his movements a little weary. “Quick, quick, Tarn.”

  “So, I am helping you?” Tarn inquired, without moving. “May I finish my dinner first?”

  Gard sat down beside him, slumping a little against Tarn’s shoulder. “I cannot abide slow eaters. Do you chew this slowly when you’re eating entire goats? How did you ever have time to fight a war?”

  “If you want me to eat stop starting conversations.”

  “Stop answering me,” Gard retorted but went quiet.

  That was startling enough that Tarn did rush the end of his meal. Stacking his bowl with the others, he stood and pulled Gard up. “We’ll do your bedding first, and then you can sleep.”

  Gard grumbled, of course, but let Tarn heave the bedding rolls up the stairs. The sleeping rooms were narrow and windowless, packed tightly around the staircase, with angled doorways that offered some privacy (and were also, Tarn noted but did not say aloud, designed for right-handed swordsmen to have a clean strike at anyone coming up the stairs). They were stuffy, but warm, and Tarn suspected they would stay that way through the chill of the night.

  Gard crawled into his pile of blankets as soon as he’d put them down, barely hesitating to kick off his boots and shrug away his shirt, leaving the clothes scattered across the floor. Tarn tidied them into the corner, ignoring the snorted, sleepy comment before he went to set up the other rooms, taking the lamp with him.

  He went downstairs long enough to let Aline know which rooms he’d assigned to everyone and offer to take the fourth watch before heading back up to Gard. He left the lamp on the steps to show the others the way to their beds and let a little flame slip free to hover over his hand so he could see his way across their dark room.

  Gard was breathing slowly, curled under the blankets, so Tarn let the dim light float by his chin as he peeled his clothes off lazily. He crawled into the blankets next to Gard, tugging them free enough that he could get his fair share rather than burn against the cold all night—Gard, he had learned during the last week and a half, was a shameless blanket thief.

  The move left him pressed comfortably along Gard’s back, and he propped himself up on one elbow to study Gard’s face. He looked very small and innocent curled against his pillow, so Tarn gave in to the affection curling in his gut and dropped a quick kiss on his cheek.

  “Molesting me in my sleep, lizard?” Gard muttered, but he was smiling.

  Tarn grumbled at him wordlessly and called the hovering flame back into himself. The faintest light shone through the doorway, but otherwise they were surrounded by warm and comforting darkness. He slung an arm around Gard’s waist and nuzzled up against the back of his neck, enjoying the quiet granted by thick stone walls and ready to sleep.

  Then Gard turned in his arms and kissed him with a slow, gentle tenderness that surprised Tarn into silence. He gave himself to the kiss, letting Gard press his lips open and slide his tongue into Tarn’s mouth, slow and hungry. It was a kiss with intentions, and Tarn shuddered under it, tugging Gard closer in hope.

  When, at last, Gard pulled back, his smirk just visible in the dim light, all Tarn could say, stupidly, was “I thought you despised me now.”

  Gard shrugged lightly. “Everyone I know thinks you’re wonderful. I’m merely bowing to the majority opinion.”

  “But I want you to like me,” Tarn protested, and added cunningly, “I like you.”

  “Even I know that, Tarnamell,” Gard murmured. “Now hush.” And he kissed Tarn again, just as slowly, hitching his body up until their groins were pressed together. The hot blaze of his cock against Tarn’s was a relief, especially when he reached down to tug their breechclouts aside, and Tarn could feel them press together, hot silky skin against skin.

  He groaned into the kiss at that, and again when Gard wrapped his hand around them both, sending shivers up his spine.

  Gard pressed slow kisses up his throat and then murmured in his ear, “How many of your human lovers did you let touch you like this? Or did you just dominate them all until they spread their legs for you without hesitating?”

  “I let them love me,” Tarn answered, his breathing quickening as Gard nibbled at his earlobe, his teeth sharp. Dizzied, he let slip, “But they left me, all of them.”

  “Mortal men leave,” Gard agreed, pushing Tarn down on the pillows and straddling him, his hand still busy on their cocks, a slow delicious friction. “They die or want a life with their own kind, but you and I, Tarn, we’re different, aren’t we?” He leaned forward, his breath hot against Tarn’s cheek. “Is that the reason you want me?”

  “Not the only reason,” Tarn argued, arching his back to push harder into Gard’s hand.

  “You want to own me and mine,” Gard agreed, his voice suddenly sharp. “I haven’t forgotten.”

  “Then why are you doing this?” Tarn demanded. The head of his cock was slick now, and he bit back a groan as Gard’s fingers skittered across it, light and teasing. “Just because you’re outnumbered?”

  “Oh, not just,” Gard said lightly and descended on Tarn’s mouth again, nibbling his lip before he deepened the kiss, his hand moving faster between their sweat-dampened bellies, jerking flashes of pleasure out of Tarn. He felt it when Gard’s strokes suddenly started to go erratic, his mouth stilling on Tarn’s as his hips jerked down hard and fast. He came with a gasp, burying his face against Tarn’s neck as wet heat flooded the space between them.

  It almost finished Tarn, and he rocked up hard. After a moment, Gard’s hand tightened around him again, and Tarn exploded against him, his whole body curling up into it as Gard sucked kisses against his shoulder, his own breath still shaking out of him with every jerk of Tarn’s body.

  He gradually became aware that Gard was babbling against his shoulder. Tarn started to listen as he said, “… and there’s a few cities where they actually do that, you know, mad as it seems.”

  “Do what?” Tarn asked drowsily. He felt lax and pleasantly drained, his whole body perfectly draped across Gard’s, damp smears and all.

  “Vote on everything,” Gard explained. “Every time they want to pass a law, they gather the whole city together and make them debate it. Can you imagine?”

  “Why are we talking about this now?” Tarn asked, bewildered. “Sssh.”

  “Well,” Gard said, sounding livelier than he had for days, “even with an avatar as young and eager as this one, I’m not quite ready for another round, so we may as well pass the time. Politics is always a good time waster, I think.”

  Tarn considered it and then pointed out, quite reasonably, he thought, “I’d rather kiss you.”

  “That’s good too,” Gard agreed, with a quick indrawn breath, and came happily into Tarn’s arms, spreading his legs as Tarn rolled them over so Tarn was cradled agai
nst him. “Oh, shit, there’s the wet spot. You could have cleaned up first. That’s not—oh!”

  Tarn scraped his teeth along Gard’s jaw again, eliciting another shudder and sigh, and then settled against him to kiss them both dizzy, their bodies sliding and molding against each other.

  He felt it when Gard’s cock began to swell between them again, and pulled away from the kiss to prop himself up on his arms and drive his hips down harder.

  “I,” Gard said dreamily, his lips gleaming and his hips rocking in time with Tarn’s thrusts, “have a room under the eaves in the temple in Istel, oh, yes, Tarn, a room, a room I say, when we take the town back, yes, with the softest, oh, widest bed I’ve ever slept in. You can—can fuck me there, when this is over.”

  “Can’t I fuck you now?” Tarn asked, shivering with every little noise Gard let out. “You don’t need a temple. You’re not a god.”

  “My people love me,” Gard boasted. “I can m-make you worship me, Tarn. I’ll make you worship me. Kneel to me.” His words died into a low whine, and his eyes fell closed.

  “I’ll kneel,” Tarn promised, holding his voice steady with the last of his willpower, “but not to worship you. And by the time I’m done, you will like me.”

  “Prove it,” Gard gasped, and then let out a noise of protest when Tarn lifted off his body.

  Tarn kicked the blankets out of his way and straddled Gard, knees on each side of his hips. In the dark, he had to feel for him, his hands sliding across Gard. He wrapped one around Gard’s cock, stroking him slowly, and used the other to find his shoulder and trail his fingers teasingly down Gard’s chest, pinching his nipples lightly to make Gard gasp and jerk.

  “In case you were confused,” Gard said, voice breathy, “that doesn’t count as kneeling.”

  “I am on my knees,” Tarn pointed out.

  “And why is that, I wonder, when you could be fucking me senseless? If you’re feeling shy suddenly, you really….”

  His words trailed off as Tarn bent forward and replaced his fingers with his mouth, nipping at Gard’s chest gently. Gard had been blissfully responsive to everything so far, and Tarn wasn’t going to risk breaking the spell by biting down too hard, however tempting it was. This close, in the warm darkness, he could feel the heat rising off Gard’s skin, and smell him—musk, sweat, and the hot, sweet tang of the desert wind.

  He nibbled his way down Gard’s torso, his hand still moving slowly on Gard’s cock as he crawled backward. He felt Gard sink happily back onto the bedding in anticipation. “Oh, yes. Was I complaining? Forget I said it. Kneel as much as you like.”

  Tarn’s own balls were hanging hot and heavy between his legs, and his cock gave an answering twitch as he closed his mouth over the head of Gard’s, flattening his tongue across the hot bulge and tasting Gard. Then, as Gard groaned gratifyingly, Tarn sank down onto his cock until Gard was lodged in his throat and his spit was dribbling into the rough curls at Gard’s groin. He pulled back slowly, making sure his lips were slick, and then pushed down again, setting up a slow rhythm that Gard twitched into, his breath coming rough and harsh. For once he wasn’t speaking, and Tarn closed his eyes and lost himself in sensation as Gard’s pleasure began to spill over him—not quite the love he craved to sustain him, but close, oh, so close.

  When Gard’s body began to tighten below him, he pulled off fast, ignoring the cry of protest from Gard. Tarn grabbed for his pack, cursing himself for not thinking of this earlier, and tore through it until he found the oil.

  “What are you doing?” Gard demanded furiously. “Come back!”

  Tarn spilled oil over his hand and cast the bottle aside to slick himself and push Gard’s legs up. As soon as his hand skidded across Gard’s tense thigh, Gard pulled his legs apart willingly. “Oh, finally, please.”

  Running his hand down to cup Gard’s round ass, Tarn found his hole and pressed his finger in. Now the moment had come, he couldn’t bear to do much preparation, but Gard opened for him easily, pushing down on his fingers. Tarn bore it for a few more moments, twisting his fingers as Gard complained in half words.

  Then he pulled his fingers out and replaced them with his cock, pressing in with short thrusts as Gard eased open around him, his passage hot and tight, clinging to each thrust until Tarn pushed again. He felt Gard sigh around him when the head of his cock pressed past the first ring of muscles, and leaned forward to kiss the groan out of Gard when he finally brushed against that sensitive nub.

  He’d had some thought of teasing Gard, of stopping to demand that Gard tell him he liked him, belonged to him, loved him, but it fled as he finally buried himself balls-deep and felt Gard quivering around him, his breath jerking out in rough shudders against Tarn’s mouth.

  “Alagard,” he murmured, and it came out as a growl, low, fierce, and possessive.

  “Tarn,” Gard sighed back, hitching his hips up in little involuntary thrusts. “What are you waiting for?”

  So Tarn pulled back, almost out of Gard’s warmth, and then thrust in hard. A happy groan broke out of Gard, and he rose into each thrust as Tarn lost himself into it, rocking into Gard with hard desperation, gasping over and over, “Gard! Gard! Gard!” as his skin slid against Gard’s, so slick with sweat he could barely balance. Gard was choking out delighted sobs with every breath, and this, this was what Tarn had wanted so very much for so very long.

  Then Gard’s spine arched, and his body tightened around Tarn, his moans dying into a sudden silence, before a hot wave splattered against Tarn’s belly, splash on splash as Gard’s fingers locked onto his shoulders, his nails scoring Tarn’s flesh.

  It was enough. Fire blazed up Tarn’s spine, and he threw his head back and emptied himself into Gard with a snarl, his vision going white, and his body quivering on the edge of transformation, ready to dissolve into flame.

  Only Gard’s voice gasping his name kept him human, and Tarn clung to him, pouring all the wild, fierce energy of consummation out into Gard, his own Alagard, his desert storm, and the crown of his hoard.

  Chapter 24: Readying

  TARN HAD long ago adopted the human male custom of sleeping after sex. Gard, to Tarn’s amusement, clearly had not, so Tarn merely curled around him, doing the closest his human body could to entwining himself all around Gard, wrapping him tight and safe. It felt good, slumped so limply against him, with Gard absently petting his hair as he chattered.

  “… better than I have in weeks. You could market that, Tarn. Bottle it and sell it out the back of a wagon as a cure for all men’s ills….”

  All lovers had their flaws, Tarn reminded himself lazily. It was part of what made them charming and unique. Gard’s tendency to babble after sex was not so bad. It wasn’t as if he needed to listen, and the noise was oddly soothing if you paid no attention to the words.

  Gard felt perfect in his arms—warm, sticky and just the right size to fit against Tarn. Happily, Tarn nuzzled a little closer into the crook of Gard’s neck, humming his content without bothering to use words.

  “… no reason for me to feel so much better, unless you’ve used some creepy dragon sex magic on me.” There was a slight pause in the flow of words, and Gard asked accusingly, “Tarn, have you used creepy dragon sex magic on me?”

  Tarn roused himself enough to rub Gard’s back reassuringly. “Sssh. Sleep with me.”

  Instead, he found himself being rolled over and Gard straddling his hips, his hands tight on Tarn’s shoulders as he leaned in to demand, his thoughts sand rough against Tarn’s mind, “What did you do to me?”

  It felt good to be this naked, skin to skin and mind to mind, and Tarn felt a faint spark of interest. He’d thought he was done for the night, but if Gard was going to perch right there and make it easy, perhaps….

  “Tarn! Did you use dragon sex magic on me?”

  “There’s no such thing as dragon sex magic,” Tarn thought back at him, lazily sliding his hand along Gard’s thigh. “Pretty desert.”

  Gard’s growl of
frustration was hilarious and delightful, and if Tarn had still had the energy, he would have sat up to kiss the inevitable pout off his lips. “My energy levels are better than they’ve been since the Shadow took me. I cannot restore them myself until you free me to draw upon the desert. You did this.”

  “All I did was love you,” Tarn replied, sighing. He would never be able to predict what Gard would fuss over. To distract him, he groped the sticky globe of Gard’s ass, curving his fingers into the crease and inquiring hopefully, “More?”

  Gard sniffed. “How is the world not overrun with dragons if you’re all so insatiable? No, don’t answer that. Why are you giving me energy?”

  “You need it,” Tarn said, giving up on his explorations to link his arms loosely around Gard’s waist. “You need to be strong.”

  “We need you stronger more,” Gard snapped. “You are our secret weapon against the Shadow. Do not weaken yourself for my sake.”

  Tarn sighed. “No loss to me to share with you.” Perhaps Gard didn’t understand that dragons channeled power in the same way as lesser elementals. “I too live from love.”

  “This is going to be a dragon thing, isn’t it?” Gard said with a heavy sigh and slumped down onto Tarn’s body. “Just tell me that you’re not making yourself more vulnerable.”

  “I am strong,” Tarn assured him, running his hands along the long smooth line of Gard’s back, feeling the lean cords of muscle hidden below his skin.

  “Fine,” Gard muttered. “In that case, go back to sleep. And get your hands off my ass. I have to ride a horse tomorrow, and I’m already dreading my saddle. Have you any idea how big….”

  Tarn stopped listening again. Lazily, he rolled them over and tugged the blankets up for warmth. Then, smirking into Gard’s hair, he went to sleep.

  ALINE WOKE Tarn some time later, shadowing the lamp with her hand as Gard grumbled in his sleep and grabbed for the blankets. Tarn rolled out and dragged his clothes back on, aware of every patch of drying come that pulled at his skin. He had been too sleepy to clean them off, and he was regretting it now. Once they were out in the stairwell, she openly grinned at him.