Sanctuary - 10. Chapter 10 - Ishca

“A job?” Ishca looked over at his bed mate with disapproval written all over his features. “Me? A job?”

“Yeah,” Aki’s soft brow furrowed in the centre. Ishca thought the motion was adorable, and when he reached out to poke at the lines, he dove into a memory of Aki sitting at the wheel in some pottery studio, but not his own, turning a lump of clay into beauty with his hands. The empath could have happily gotten lost in the vision for hours, but Aki’s physical presence brought him swiftly back to reality. “You have had a job before, right?”

“Ummm…”

Ishca didn’t bother to answer him properly but shifted his weight until he was straddling Aki’s flat hips, pressing the Rectory Officer’s shoulders back into the pillows. Aki arched an eyebrow at him, but Ishca could feel desire rise through the man everywhere their skin touched. He wiggled his hips in a motion that brought his erection into contact with Aki’s own, and wrapped his slender fingers around them both to the timbre of his lover’s groan.

Ishca loved having sex. More than styling his hair or buying new clothes, more than eating or drinking, or sleeping in, or lazing around with a glass of wine and a good book; Ishca loved sex. There was nothing else like it, and when sex was good, for an empath, it was really good. Ishca had spent most of his time since he was sixteen, either having sex, flirting, kissing, or thinking about having sex. Some guys were sweet and sappy; some were strong, controlling almost to the point of violence; some of them adored him, wanted him desperately, and were committed to the act of joining bodies; some were distracted, not invested; others fantasized about the men they’d rather be with; some of them thought about porn when they came, or girls, or animals, or their fathers… and being an empath, Ishca heard, saw, and experienced it all.

Sex with the wrong person was exhausting, vile, and disturbing. There had once been a man who had dreamt of choking Ishca when he came until his eyes bulged out of his skull. It was how he’d known Seraiah, and others before, had cheated on him and screwed around behind his back. Those who lied knowingly to an empath were too stupid to live.

But Aki wasn’t that guy. Ishca couldn’t remember anyone he’d been with who had showed such focus, such desire and lust. Aki ran his hands up Ishca’s sides, thick fingers massaging the thin layer of muscle over his ribs, and all that Ishca saw through their connection was himself; reflected images of glory and longing. Ishca stroked them together, delighting in the velvety texture of Aki’s skin under his palms, and he purred happily as he saw the shape of what Aki wanted in his mind just before the big man reached across the bedside cabinet for a bottle of lube. His lover adjusted his position with a grunt and a firm hand on the back of his thigh, and Ishca mewled in mock confusion as he watched Aki grease his fingers before reaching between Ishca’s legs for his pert little arse.

“Ahh!” He wasn’t pretending when he gasped, Aki’s lubed up digits plunging right into his tight opening, and Ishca realised he’d lost control of the situation when Aki twisted inside him, found his prostate, and had him whimpering in minutes.

“Oh you do like that, huh?” Aki’s voice was a low rumble in his ear as Ishca moaned against the sheets. Aki manipulated his pleasure so expertly Ishca couldn’t have used his spine to support his body even if the fate of the world had depended on it. “I love the way you look,” Aki whispered against his skin, making Ishca shiver, “you’re so desperate… I love it. Turn around.”

Ishca had been planning to sit astride his lover and riding him until they were both exhausted, and Aki’s mind was blown, but he was helpless to resist Aki’s commands and hands as the big man withdrew his fingers and moved him into position. Ishca found himself kneeling on the mattress, Aki sitting up behind him, and he braced himself on Aki’s thick thighs as he was lowered onto the tip of his lover’s pulsing cock.

“Nghh…”

“Oh yeah…”

Aki’s palm over his heart showed him the way he looked, the way Aki saw him: beautiful, wonderful, and gorgeous. His erection bobbed in time with the little movements of his hips, and Ishca’s shoulders might have been supported by Aki’s broad chest, but he was moving all by himself, thrusting Aki’s length further into his quivering body. Aki brushed his stiff nipples, and Ishca moaned uncontrollably, knowing he sounded sluttish and not caring, because every emotion Aki fed him was pure and honest and coloured with desire so strong it tinted the air in the bedroom pink and red. Ishca never wanted to stop, wanted to feel the pleasure coiling up through his body forever, but Aki took his hips and pushed into him hard, and Ishca felt the edge grow closer and closer with each thrust.

“You’re fucking gorgeous…” he purred against Ishca’s neck, and suddenly the empath was crying out, his voice nothing more than a high-pitch gasp of shock and pleasure as he came. Aki growled with delight, and emptied himself into Ishca’s tight sheath.

Ishca panted, lying against his lover, sticky and sated. Aki kissed the back of his neck softly as they disconnected from each other.

“So, this job thing….”

Ishca groaned.

“What?”

“Unless you count that,” Ishca arched an eyebrow as he spoke, and glanced at Aki’s crotch and softening cock, “then I’ve never had a job.”

“Never?”

“Well… no. Normally my boyfriends are pretty rich.”

“Ish!” Ishca had never seen anyone so previously soft and engaged distance themselves so quickly without moving. “C’mon, don’t joke. That’s awful.”

“Why is it awful?” Ish hated that his happy little bubble of afterglow had been so completely popped. “It’s mutually beneficial.”

“It makes you a wh-.” Aki stopped himself from finishing his sentence out loud, but the thought was already fully formed, and Ishca felt it hit his chest like a sledgehammer through their skin. He choked back a half sob of shock and anguish, and removed himself from the bed.

“I’m going to have a shower.”

“Ishca….”

“Later. We’ll talk about it later.”

*

Ishca fully recognised that he was sulking: stomping along the road with his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his long coat, and his hood drawn over his head even though it wasn’t raining, but he was too angry to care much how he looked to other people. Aki had tried to talk to him after he’d come out of the shower, but Ishca had simply gotten dressed and styled his hair with his fingers on the way out of the door. Hel’s head had been in the fridge, wolfing down his breakfast, but Ishca hadn’t stopped to speak with him. The kid had been happier since they’d returned from the city the previous evening, and Ishca had made nachos and beef chilli and listened to Hel chat all about his new identity and his run in the park with James. Hel probably had no idea how smitten he sounded when he talked about the werewolf, and the empath had filed the information away as something he would need later.

He wanted to feel angry with Aki, and he did, but not enough not to feel equally ashamed. He hated the fact that Aki had imagined him, naked and sweating, prostituting himself for someone else: and he’d been right. It was the only thing he and Ig ever seriously fought about, because Ishca’s older brother was not supportive of all of his sibling’s life style choices. It didn’t matter how much of a funk Ishca wanted to be in, because when he looked up the shadow of his brother was walking at his shoulder.

“That pout is not as attractive as you think it is.” Ig pulled Ishca’s hood back and ruffled his slightly damp hair. “So what’s up, little brother? You’ve still not called.”

“You said you were skiing.” Ishca scuffed one boot-toe against the pavement as he walked. “I kinda got distracted.”

“Hot, new, beautiful, rich guy in your life already?” Ig scoffed, “oh why am I not surprised? You always did work fast.”

“Why do I not get to control this conversation?” Ishca sighed, and turned at the corner of the street. Even through his boots, he could feel the passage of other feet, many feet, and many of them sparked tiny moments in his mind, snippets of conversation and emotion that made no sense on their own, but which culminated in the desire for money. “I’m the one imagining you here after all.”

Ig laughed. Ischa had always loved his brother’s laugh. Six years his senior, Ig had a laugh that made Ishca feel warm, safe, and protected from the universe. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t five years old anymore and scared of monsters hiding underneath his bed: having his brother’s laugh wrap him up like a bear hug wiped away some of the shame he felt.

“Ahhh, little brother… you’re not imagining me because you want my support. You know what I think of your… habits.”

“Hey!”

“Oh don’t get your panties in a twist!” Ig reached over to ruffle his hair again: Ishca styled it back quickly. “You know I’ve never had a problem with you being gay. After all; having a gay little brother was really useful for flirting with girls – they always liked you.”

“I’m so glad I could be your wingman. When did you last get me a date?”

“There was that guy…” Ig began.

“Your first year assistant?” Ishca sighed, “He was weird: such a nerd!”

“Hey…”

“He was into comic books Ig!” Ishca shook his head in despair, “and he was so shy! I practically had to force him into bed, and even then-.”

“Lalalalalala!” Ig stuck his fingers in his ears. “Do not want to know that!”

“Well don’t show up in my head so much then!” Ishca huffed. He glanced at his brother, but the image of his sibling was gone. “Oh that’s useful… Just when I was going to ask you for help in finding a job…” His eyes focused on the window which had been behind Ig before he vanished.

We’ve got the Perfect Job for You

Ishca blinked, reading the smaller type of the poster in the job-finder agency window. All skill levels, thousands of positions open, help with CVs, start right away… Ishca hated it when his brother came up with all the answers without even trying, so he swept his fingers through his hair, checked his shirt collar, and went in.

“Hello; how can I help?”

Ishca gave the girl who greeted him his very best smile. She was neatly dressed in a pencil skirt, heels, and a teal silk blouse, but when Ishca took her hand he realised how good she was at putting on a front. Whatever had happened before he’d walked in, she’d been in tears; and now the woman was hoping he wasn’t another over qualified ex-student there to waste her time.

“Hi. I saw your great poster in the window; it’s really eye-catching.”

“Awww.” This time her smile was genuine. “Thanks. I chose the fonts for it: I think it’s friendly, y’know?”

“Absolutely. I think it does a great job.”

“Well it got you in,” the woman smiled at him, “so let’s sort you out. Come take a seat and we’ll find out what you’re looking for.”

As far as Ishca knew, most of his school associates had gone into part time jobs in cafes and restaurants, a few into very junior office positions, and most into retail. He on the other hand had got himself an older boyfriend just leaving uni who loved to spoil him, buy him clothes, and take him out to dinner. Working had always seemed like such a poor substitute. He looked diligently at the upcoming positions list the woman had handed him, and listened to her chat about the work the agency did and how it affected employers and employees.

“So, what did you do before?” She twiddled her pen around her thumb as she spoke, and Ishca rested his elbow on the desk, trying to feel her thoughts across the surface of the wood. He could already tell she had a job in mind for him.

“Public relations?” She beamed at his answer, and Ishca sighed in relief. “I’m great with people. I relocated into the city and wanted something a bit more… local.”

“Oh that’s great. I might have a perfect position for you….”

Ishca quickly became lost in the mess of forms and documents, applications, agreements to share information, and job details sheets; but he filled in everything he could, and watched as the smiling woman began to organise his life. She set him up an interview, he gave Aki’s phone number as his permanent residence, and three hours later Ishca walked out of the collective artist’s and designer’s studio as their new public relations, marketing, and media manager.

He was sort of proud of himself.