Waylon's Crossing - 28. Chapter 28: Sweet Dreams

Waylon's Crossing
Chapter 28: Sweet Dreams

Kynan had wanted to die, a scraggly man-child lost and so different from the myriad creatures which surrounded him that he still felt indescribably alone.

There came a time when, exhausted and haunted by the specters of the people he'd killed, that Kynan crawled into a tiny, dark hole and cried himself to sleep. He was sated on emotions, but hungry and cold and alone. He woke to see eyes, glittering like his own in the lamplight. He was more startled than afraid. The offer of food and a blanket were better than priceless jewels.

Azil. In all Kynan's life he'd never heard of another demon with blue eyes, but there had been a brief moment where he'd thought -- hoped -- he'd finally come home.

Azil and Karadur, two demons with a mind-touch strong enough to sustain him and keep him balanced while he learned to adapt. Kynan wanted so badly to have something like that, for someone to love him, to love someone else.

"Kynan?"

A small hand brushed tears from his cheek and Kynan covered the gentle, strong fingers with his own. He opened his eyes to look into Alan's smooth, golden-brown ones. Warmth flowed into his body at the light contact.

"Alan!" he moaned, lips kissing along the werewolf's whiskered jaw. "I'm sorry."

"O-oh!" whimpered Alan, fingers tightening their hold in blond hair. "F-for ... ha! For what, you stu-hu!-pid demon?"

"I love you," whispered Kynan against trembling lips. They widened for him in a smug, knowing smile, and he silenced his pairling with a kiss.

"Then fuck me already!" Alan said harshly, panting into Kynan's ear when released. Fingers caressed Alan's cheek, making his eyelashes slide shut, his chin jutting up as his neck arched with pleasure.

Years and years of painstakingly teaching himself to tease out and exploit a person's fears forced a level of self-control upon Kynan that other incubi or succubae, raised with their kin, would have dismissed as impossible. Kynan could reach for the tight bundle of his prey's emotions and untangle them with deceptive ease, isolating the one he wanted. He concentrated all his attentions on that one strand, draining away what he needed to survive.

Like carding wool, Kynan's mental grasp combed through the jumbled mess that were his and Alan's unconscious minds. Guilt flowed through him as he recognized this loss of control, for burdening his pairling unfairly. Regardless of whether or not he was out of his head with pain, the disarray was completely unforgivable.

His fingers in the dream room moved down along Alan's body while his mind flushed the twisting, interwoven threads of their emotions. The mass was more complicated than any he had yet experienced, the two pieces rebelling against his desire to separate them. Thick cords connected them, golden and black swirling together in a blinding spiral of color, but the rest had to be coaxed back to their correct place.

Fanning the sparks of the werewolf's lust into a real fire was child's play for the half-demon, half-incubus, but the distraction came with its own price. Before he could get everything suitably arranged, Kynan felt the telltale creep of exhaustion falling over him. He panted, arms shaking, blinking his eyes rapidly to stay awake. His touch faltered and slowed, the knots snarling back together as his strength failed.

Something shifted and changed, Alan's stomach twisting itself into a knot of tense fear. He stared at the man hovering over him and swallowed nervously. It looked like Kynan, but it was not Kynan. Something lurked just beneath the surface and behind the blue eyes, almost like a shadow. The face was elongated and flat, the nose and mouth mere slits, ears longer and pointed, eyes sinister and glowing. Kynan's muscular body dwarfed Alan's, and beyond the curve of his shoulder beat wide, leathery wings. He grinned at Alan to show many rows of jagged teeth.

Hiding his fear was pointless; what Alan felt, Kynan felt. Now he knew just what his lover feared, and it was a fear Alan understood to the very bottom of his quaking, wolfish heart, a fear as ancient as predator and prey.

What he didn't anticipate was the anger. Because of this ... this thing, Kynan felt cut off from everyone. He had never been free to love and even still resisted the bond straining between halfling and werewolf.

This thing could kill him -- would kill him -- if it had its way. The incubus was starving and desperate, fighting entrapment to keep itself alive. It was a part of Kynan, giving him his extraordinary power over dreams, his vulnerability, and his protections against the convoluted conspiracies of the Demon Queen's court.

"Shocked?" it asked with Kynan's voice, leering at the werewolf and enjoying his discomfiture.

Alan saw nothing to be gained by lying, and shrugged, saying simply, "Yes." Kynan was too weak. It was up to Alan now, if they were not to die, right there and then.

He pushed his fears and anger aside, letting the incubus' lust feed his own.

The incubus moaned with some of Kynan's distraught tones mixed into its desperate hunger. It licked its lips and leaned forward to brush lips over Alan's collar.

The glancing touch was like drips of ice water on a hot day, but they set the werewolf's body on fire, burning from the inside out. He whimpered, arching off the dreamworld mattress with the feel.

Dark chuckles filled his ears.

"Virgin," the incubus rumbled. The very tips of its fingers etched a path down and across Alan's chest, tracing through the wet stickiness. It grinned broadly again for the involuntary reaction, relishing the feedback along its senses. "All but untouched." Its eyes narrowed, hungry and black in the darkness. "For years -- years -- to be so close, and not ... permitted." Its voice dropped to a low snarl.

Alan shuddered again at the spatters of drool which spilled on his overheated skin. He raised a shaky hand to press his palm against Kynan's chest. "W-Wait," he gasped.

The alien presence turned Kynan's amused smirk into derision. The incubus knocked aside the werewolf's small hand and growled down at him, "Do not make the mistake of thinking you have a choice, pup." The swipe of its hand along Alan's face was possessive, demonstrating just enough strength to prove how powerless he really was.

"You are mine and I will have you." His other half was too weak to interfere this time.

"No, no," said Alan quickly, shaking his head. "Of course not." He thought quickly. "It's just, you can h-have me in person, too, if you are patient."

The incubus licked its lips again, eyes devouring the innocent morsel below him. This time there was nothing to stop him and he was going to make this last a very long time, draw out each and every last moaning bit of sustenance.

It's not listening anymore, thought Alan distractedly. Each flick up and down of the dark eyes made him bite his lip, whimpering, and still the incubus held back.

Daring the other's wrath, Alan pressed both palms against Kynan's chest and pushed, as hard as he could. Although he couldn't see them, he heard the rustle of feathered wings as Kynan sat back on his haunches.

The incubus stared at Alan with surprise.

Alan jumped back in with the initiative, knowing he had to take charge quickly lest the warring emotions on Kynan's face give the incubus the upper hand again.

He sat up. "Don't you feel anything different?" he questioned. "If you kill me in your impatience, we will all die."

The flash of pain on the incubus' face didn't last. It lashed out to grip Alan's jaw tightly between finger and thumb. It pulled up and descended to crush the pliant, young lips under its own.

The werewolf clutched at Kynan's broad shoulders, needing to cling to something solid. His (and Kynan's) life depended on his ability to continue saying no, but he wanted so desperately in those first few seconds that he sobbed with more than echoed pain as his foot caught Kynan right in the battered ribs.

It was Kynan's voice that cried out in agony, arms wrapped protectively around his torso, huddled on his side a few feet away. Tears wet his cheeks and he whispered, "I'm sorry, Alan! I'm sorry."

"Kynan!" Alan called, grabbing and holding the blond head in both hands to stare into his eyes. "Stop fighting! I love you! All of you! No matter what. And you are killing yourself -- killing us -- Do you understand?" He held the larger man steady with the force of his passion.

"You will kill us both," he said, slower but just as intently. He could see the struggle as Kynan's pupils dilated and contracted again and again. "You have to trust me. Please, Kynan. We've come too far."

"I can't!"

"Yes, you can. You know how. I'm here. I'll help you, but you can't stay like this. You are -- both of you -- beautiful. Trust me. Let go."

"I can't! I can't."

Alan crouched low and when he spoke his breath danced across Kynan's lips. "Trust me." Then he kissed him. I love you, he thought, as loud as he could.

Oh, Daylight! Alan! thought Kynan as his beast stirred once more, fighting and clawing, screaming for the sacrifice, demanding and strong, stronger than Kynan. He couldn't let go, reaching out to cup Alan's face in his hands to pull him closer.

Trust. What did a demon know about trust? He had never released his beast willingly, and to do so when he had everything to lose?

Trust me, he felt Alan whisper, feather-soft in his mind. Trust me.

Pulling the smaller body into his arms, Kynan stepped over the cliff, letting his tough, mental shields fall, and putting himself wholly into the other's keeping.

"Kynan?" Alan asked after a minute. He wiggled in the tight embrace. "Kynan, you okay?"

"I..." He stared at his pairling in confusion, brow slightly furrowed. "What happened?"

"Um, nothing?"

Kynan frowned. The ever-present ache and throb in the back of his mind was gone. He felt stronger, bigger, the body in his arms an extension of himself, like the time or two he'd taken a blow to the head. He held up his hand, expecting to see two or three times the number of fingers. He did look a little odd, the colors and textures richer in some indefinable way, but he had the right number.

"Kynan?" Alan repeated, his worry wrapping around Kynan's senses, cloying and sticky, though he physically didn't move. "Are you okay?"

He ran his fingers through Alan's hair, shivering from the echoed sensation. "I don't know," he said slowly. When he lost control, he always knew, but this? Was this what he'd been so afraid of?

"I --"

"Wait," Alan interrupted with a finger placed against the halfling's lips. "Don't say anything until you're sure. You, my, uh, what am I supposed to call you, anyway?"

With a heave of his arms, Kynan tossed the werewolf backward on the bed, making him yip in surprise. Then he crawled after.

"Decide on nick-names later," he growled, grabbing an ankle to keep the thrashing limb from kicking him. "I'm going to fuck you now."

The voice was as dark and powerful as the previous presence and Alan froze, but then he saw that the blue eyes sparkled in mirth, the wide mouth relaxed and free of any lurking menace. Grinning back, Alan went limp, splayed out for his pairling to see. Lost desire returned with a vengeance, fed by the lust radiating from the blond man, and completely drowning any embarrassment.

Hands gripped his ankles and pulled. Then knees and finally hips. Kynan leaned over him and grinned, lips descending at a maddening pace. The kiss was startling in its intensity, leaving Alan breathless.

He cranked his eyes open to see that Kynan had his eyes closed as well, a surprised, delighted innocence on his face that made Alan's heart swell. Lifting an arm that felt as if it weighed a ton, he stroked his pairling's cheek, causing the blue demon eyes to pop open. Color bloomed on Kynan's cheeks as he ducked his head.

"You're beautiful," Alan murmured.

The blush darkened as Kynan gave his head a quick shake. With a little more force than was strictly necessary, he pushed Alan back down to kiss him cross-eyed again.

Laughing through their bond, Alan attempted to copy the things he saw streaming past in Kynan's past, but soon all thoughts were gone. There was kiss, Kynan's lips everywhere, and touch, hands dream-smooth like satin, and Alan could hardly breathe.

Incubi and succubae, the one creature despised and vilified by both sides following the Demon War. Lessons preached about the evil-ness of demons, but still people feared to speak of incubi and succubae, as if just by mentioning them could bring them back. Not much was known about them, but with the crazy heat rushing him and oozing outward through his pores, Alan could understand the fear.

"Ky!" he gasped, falling back on the bed, breathing hard. He'd gotten drunk once, made giddy by the alcohol, but this was a headier rush. Knowledge of where Kynan was physically left, leaving Alan awash in sensation that was like a never-ending orgasm.

The rats-nest that was their entangled minds and emotions unraveled in Kynan's minds-eye. He isolated the ones he wanted, feeding them until they thrummed wildly, the werewolf's body trembling in his arms. He drank in the overflow of emotions, swelling and gorging on the power. His body was two, was three, was four as his sense of self expanded to fill the werewolf in an inadvertent mirror of his demon-self. Closing his eyes, he could see the incubus and the wolf, the man and the demon embracing and joining, the auras coalescing and swirling together like shapes in the winds of the Wastes.

He breathed in deeply through his nose, plucking the strands that increased Alan's pleasure in the same way that Azil played his harp. He felt like laughing, giggling with all the innocent mirth of the child he'd never been but could remember through Alan's eyes. He could climb to the roof with his manufactured wings and fly! Nothing was beyond his reach, and Kynan's wings fluttered in an invisible breeze, pulling at new muscles aching from the strain.

With this level of connection, Alan's fantasy came to him loud and clear and he watched, amused, as the werewolf boy's imagination led him to innocent hedonism.

Lowering his head, Kynan suckled gently along the line of Alan's ribs, letting physical pleasure play a larger role and gradually dimming the purely mental stimulation.

"Uhhn!" moaned Alan, his back arching, heels pressing into the mattress as his hips lifted in unknowing entreaty. His arms flailed out to his sides, fists opening and closing, but never remaining still.

Kynan indulged him, letting the boy's backside rest upon folded thighs while his hands petted up and down the long legs, entranced at the covering of dark hair.

He kissed up one side, and then the other, letting his abdomen tease Alan's straining, leaking erection and easing him higher up into his lap. His teeth closed on a nipple, startling a low growl from the werewolf that made Kynan grin. He nibbled and the growl deepened, louder as Alan's claws shredded the imaginary bed sheets. His limbs were surprisingly flexible on the dreamscape, twisting and clawing without conscious thought or restraint while his ankles locked around the halfling's waist.

The crock of oil materialized under Kynan's fingers and he spread his knees, opening the hidden crevice to his touch. He wanted now, needed this in a way that made the lighter emotions flitting around him seem sugary and fake. His mind seized control over Alan's, keeping uncertainty and fears at bay, allowing in only want and need so that he opened like a flower after the rain, body and mind begging for more, craving his touch.

He didn't need the preparation, not here, but Kynan knew that the mind would remember when back in its body, and he wanted Alan to remember this: to know the pleasure that would fill him at every step.

With a gentleness and care he'd doubted ever again finding while in this position, Kynan eased his little lover higher and, bit by bit pressed inside.

"Ah!" Alan's entire body arched backward, his shoulders and neck bowing his torso in a curving line to where his and Kynan's hips met. His claws dug into the mattress above his head, muscles standing out as his entire body trembled. The last remaining barrier between his and Kynan's hearts fell away, and Alan fell with it, his mouth opening in a silent cry of sensual gratification.

Kynan came as well, carried along by his Pairling's unsuspecting climax. The darkness in his soul expanded and he was helpless to stop it, but the fear was unfounded. The incubus roared out its joy, drinking and absorbing all the shared emotions, and then faded away until Kynan wondered at its ever having been there at all. The pressure at the back of his skull did not return, either, and he felt lighter, freer, than at any other time in his life.

And weary. Unbearably, inexorably weary. Pain filled his head and he groaned, flopping forward and falling, falling, falling....

\\ ..Exit Dreamscape.. //

Pain arched across Alan's face, making him groan. The cheekbone under his left eye exploded in white-hot waves and he clutched his face, mewling his distress. The room wavered around them like a mirage of furnace-blasted heat on a hot summer day at the forge, but faded away as Kynan's body grew chill.

The warm, comforting candle light disappeared and Kynan's weight sank down upon Alan as the halfling sighed a gentle breath against his skin. Alan squeaked in surprise, concern immediately turning to gut-twisting fear as Kynan neither moved nor spoke, Alan beginning to shiver as the ice-block that was Kynan's body sucked away his body heat.

"Unh!" he grunted, but could gain no purchase against sheets or slick, satiny feathers. "H-hnn! Help!" he gasped, floundering, hidden away by the mass of black and gray wings, and the man himself.

Hands hurriedly lifted the heavy, concealing wings away, which left Alan staring up into a decidedly amused pair of jewel-bright eyes. He turned almost as red as he realized that if he could smell the results of his dream-excursion, then, at this range, so could Kynan's parents. He didn't know what to do with his hands, either to hide his face or cover his nakedness.

Azil grinned and his eyes glittered, but he declined to tease. Instead he asked, with all seriousness, "Are you alright?" The health of this little werewolf was now as important as Kynan's, and he was likely the only thing keeping the halfling grounded.

The question of whether or not Kynan really was a halfling (since he was still half-demon, although not half-human, and only demon-human mixes had ever been viable) skittered around the demon's thoughts for a brief moment, eliciting a snort of annoyance from Karadur; but Azil brushed it aside. He could ponder biology later.

"I-I'm fine," stammered Alan. "I was just startled. Um." He twisted on his side to gently touch Kynan's face before looking up worriedly at the black demon hovering on his other side.

Karadur set down his grandson's arm, mentally confirming with Azil that the wound had closed up and started to heal. It was a good sign.

"He's fine," he said gruffly, settling the large wings more comfortably on the bed.

"Just tired," added Azil. His lips quirked, but he held back the thought, Must've wore him out!

He crossed to the door and opened it, but he didn't see the healer, only a very disgruntled and harassed-looking bodyguard. "All's well," he said soothingly, but ducked back inside before his brother could snarl an appropriate response.

From what the two demons could determine, Kynan was only asleep. His body still needed to rest from the abuse he'd survived and the Change, but he likely wouldn't sleep long before demands for sustenance woke him again.

"Alan," Azil suggested, "why don't you go clean up while I see what's in the larder?"

His stomach grumbled loudly at the thought of food, and Alan blushed darkly again.

Azil grinned. "Go on. He'll be asleep for a while," he said, nodding at Kynan. "Karadur, why don't you go check on the others?" He spoke for Alan's benefit, the thought and acceptance already passed between them. "Food and rest," he continued speaking to Alan. "That's what you both need now. And lots of it."