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    Sasha Distan
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Fallen Pride - 13. Chapter 13

Kiorl glanced up at the movement of the drapes, and smiled softly as Nassau slid past the fabric and sank softly onto the plush carpets beside him.

“Did you sleep here?” the Prince of hell enquired gently.

“Well, it is my room.” Kiorl flicked an ear at his oldest friend, rolled over onto his back and discarded the remnants of his breakfast carelessly. “I’m hiding.”

“Glad we’ve got that settled.”

Nassau shifted his weight, and the big panther felt his Prince’s warmth spread along his side as Nassau used his shoulder as a pillow. His bronze feathered wings spread out behind them on the floor. “You’ve not spent the night in the palace since Kiaza and Jem got themselves settled.” The Prince glanced around Kiorl’s room hung with many dividing layers of rich cloth. There were large Ottoman cushions strewn about the place. “I always liked the Arabian tent thing… though the furs are nice too.” Nassau smoothed a hand down the front of Kiorl’s heavily embroidered tabard; the panther was rather overdressed considering he hadn’t been seen at Court in weeks. “So you want to tell me why you’re hiding?”

“Why are you, Nas?” Kiorl’s tail flicked and twisted, giving away his curiosity. “If you wanted something, you’d have asked by now.”

Nassau grumbled something indistinct, his feathers rustling.

“Nas?”

“Aren’t I just allowed to miss you?”

“You dreamt about Mattias again, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” The Prince did not sound terribly happy.

“Was the damage bad?”

“The bed, the floor… most of the top West tower.”

“Fuck!” Kiorl half sat up, his motion aborted by Nassau pinning him effectively to the floor. “Nassau, why didn’t you say anything?”

“It’s not as though my dreams contain anything new, old friend.” Kiorl could feel the pressure on his mind at Nassau’s words, and he knew it was only courtesy stopping his Prince from slipping into his skull. “But I gather yours do?”

“Nas….” Kiorl stared hard at the ceiling, his jaw clenched. Half his mind desperately wanted to spend all his energy on keeping up the walls around his mind, to stop Nassau from learning all his secrets in a heartbeat. The rest of him watched in slow motion, over and over again, as Lahja had turned away from him before they had reached the main door of the house, and stalked away as though Kiorl hadn’t even been there. It had been an unpleasant shock to discover the angel’s indifference hurt far more than his anger.

“You’ve been taking him Upstairs? Tell me.”

“No.”

Kiorl grunted stubbornly as he felt Nassau pushing at his mind. It took all his willpower to resist the empath.

“Kiorl? If you’re not going to tell me, then you should show me.” Nassau pressed his face into the curve of Kiorl’s neck with a soft noise of comfort. “Nothing is going to make me think less of you.”

There was never any point in arguing with Nassau, especially not once the Prince had stopped fighting. Kiorl shrugged, giving into the inevitable, and shut his eyes as his oldest friend slipped into his mind like a shadow. Nassau was slick, well-practised, and if it hadn’t been for the unique and familiar flavour of his mind, Kiorl would have been unaware of his presence. He was never quite sure what Nassau saw when he looked inside his head, but Kiorl had come to his rooms in the palace to hide from the demons he lived with, and unsuccessfully to run away from his memories.

Kiorl had taken Lahja Upstairs each time he’d gone, and each time the fallen angel had stood close and held his hand as they’d stepped though the portal. Kiorl replayed the texture of the boy’s smooth skin against his short fur over and over again, the soft grip of his fingers, his breath warm against Kiorl’s cheek as he stood close enough to kiss.

You’re torturing yourself. Nassau’s voice was like a breeze across his mind. What happens afterwards?

Kiorl snarled in his own head. Every time he’d hoped Lahja might linger, might remain with him for a few heartbeats longer, the boy had stepped away. His expression closed down, brows drawn low, and Kiorl had been unable to reach for him again. The only time he’d tried again to take Lahja’s hand, the world had exploded in white light and pain. Kiorl had taken the boy places where there had been easy souls to collect, where he’d used so little of his power it felt almost lazy. Every time, in the moment of death, Lahja had turned away, and Kiorl had come away feeling somehow greasy.

He’d given up not watching the young demon, and Lahja knew it. He laughed with Tobias and Atoki, answered Jahke’s questions as best he could and talked with Kiaza like they were old friends. Whenever the pair of them were in the same room, Kiorl watched the pale young man with the electric blue eyes, replayed the shapes of his lips again in his mind, and tried to memorize the texture of his skin. He thought of Lahja when the other demon looked at him, imagined him in his bed, dreamt of the kisses and caresses which might be, the soft sleepy smiles and groans of the early morning. Every time Lahja glared at him, or turned away, it was like being slapped anew, a lancing pain through the core of his being he had no frame of reference for.

When Kiorl felt Nassau slip from his mind, he opened his eyes to find his Prince in tears.

“Nas….” Kiorl reached out across the meagre space between them and took the Prince’s hand in his own. It was such a simple gesture, so childish and innocent, but he felt through that connection all the emotions which whirled inside Nassau. Some were his own, and some were eons old. Nassau had looked at his thoughts, and the pain of losing Mattias had coursed through him.

“What would the Royal Court think, eh?” Kiorl smirked. “The two of us lying on the floor crying over lost love.”

“Do you love him?”

Kiorl rolled onto his back and sighed up at the ceiling.

“I know I don’t want to go on without him.” he replied.

*

Kiaza had refused to take no for an answer, and Lahja’s inability to lie to anyone extended to himself. When the snake had asked if he wanted to go to the bar with them, Lahja hadn’t honestly been able to reject the idea. He’d already had the concept explained to him. Jeremiah spent most evenings at Snakes and Snakes, and was always retelling stories of other demons exploits there.

“You can’t wear that to a bar.”

Lahja looked down at himself, wrapped in the thick cloak, and frowned.

“Why not?”

“Er… because you’ve worn it everywhere since you got here. We need to find you some other clothes.” Kiaza rolled his eyes despairingly.

The angel had seen the little shape shifter summon clothes from nothing, and they tended to be insubstantial and revealing. He swallowed nervously, and gestured to the large wardrobe in his room.

“I have clothes. Nassau left them.”

“Thank fuck for that.” Kiaza breezed past him and began to rifle through the garments. “Our Prince has good taste after all, and this will do wonderfully!” Kiaza thrust the clothes at him with an impish grin. “Come, come! Get dressed!”

Lahja felt incredibly exposed as he walked with Kiaza towards Snakes and Snakes. Apart from the house, to the portals with Kiorl, or to the palace gardens with Kiaza, he’d not been anywhere in hell. As Kiaza had pointed out, he’d not been anywhere at all without the thick heavy folds of his cloak. Now he was dressed in white breeches tucked into tall grey boots, with a pale grey tabard of rich heavy cloth which left his arms bare and exposed. The fabric was embroidered and beaded with patterns which looked like swirling smoke, and Lahja hadn’t been able to resist running his fingers over the textured surface as they walked.

“That’s not the part of you everyone else is going to want to touch.” Kiaza had muttered cryptically as he held the door open for the angel, but Lahja hadn’t had the time to ask him what he meant before Jahke’s over excited hug had interrupted them.

He sat on a snake-skin barstool, sipping a brightly coloured and apparently rather alcoholic cocktail Jeremiah had whipped up, watching the other patrons of the bar. There was a larger variety of demons populating Jeremiah’s pub than Lahja had imagined possible. Whilst those with imposing statuesque physiques were impressive, Lahja found the effervescent elementals infinitely fascinating. It wasn’t long before Shindae smilingly introduced him to the triplets who had once lived in their house, and Lahja spent a long time talking to a woman who was, at least in part, made of the sea.

“But that’s so cool!”

Watara had stuck with him, and Lahja watched intently as she made the remaining liquid in his glass whip itself up to a whirlpool frenzy before slumping back without a splash.

“I wish I could do that.”

“With magic you could,” Kiaza weighed in.

“Kiaza likes to pretend magic doesn’t take any effort, but his resources are not limitless.” Watara’s voice was bubbly, like her frothy hair. “An elemental’s powers are natural.” She spun the liquid again. “I could do that all night, and more.”

“Wow.”

“But all demons have a power sweetie. What’s yours?”

Lahja shuffled uncomfortably, and not for the first time since leaving the house wished his outfit had come with sleeves. There had been a very tense moment when someone large and scaly had brushed against him, and Lahja had used every ounce of his learnt control to haul the light back in from his skin. It hadn’t happened since, and he seemed to be building up a resistance to the people he lived with.

“It’s… nothing.” Lahja wished he could just lie like everyone else did to each other.

“Nothing?” Kiaza broke from whatever conversation he’d been having with another snakelike demon to regard him with his acid green stare. “Lahja sent Kiorl flying across a damn room, and he’s knocked me on my butt a fair few times.”

“Those were accidents,” Lahja muttered.

“Heaven’s light is a powerful gift, my friend.” Watara laid a hand on his shoulder, but over the embroidered cloth of his tabard, and Lahja was grateful. “We’ll all be very excited to see what you do with it.”

Lahja remembered the stark white imprint of his hand on Kiorl’s strong cheek, the expression in the big panther’s eyes whenever Lahja caught him looking. He didn’t try to hide it any longer, but whenever Lahja looked at the big cat, he felt an almost overwhelming wave of guilt for what he’d done to a person he hadn’t even known.

Jeremiah saw him looking thoughtful, and pushed another glass towards him over the bar.

“Chin up, bud.”

Lahja drank, and watched other people having fun. Jeremiah had said he’d found it hard to believe there wasn’t a bar in hell before Kiaza had built him one. With the number of demons constantly coming in and out, ordering drinks, and more drinks, the angel wondered what they’d all done with their time. He spent a while listening to Shindae and another fire demon with literally smoking eyes discussing their recent scavenging missions, comparing finds and barter favours which they owed. He blinked at his glass when he realised it was empty again, his vision was a little bit blurry, and Snakes and Snakes was quiet.

Jeremiah was no longer behind the bar, but in front of it, standing between Kiaza’s knees as the lithe little snake sat on the polished surface and kissed his mate like he would die without him.

“You not called last orders yet?” Sitka’s voice made him pull his eyes away from the lovers as the black skinned demon wandered in. Jahke skipped instantly to his side and their arms entwined. Sitka arched an eyebrow. “Well no… I see you’re rather distracted.”

Jeremiah looked up long enough to smirk, and Kiaza made a complicated shape with his fingers. The lights dimmed, a little bell somewhere rang, and everyone who wasn’t a resident of Zinkara Rumah said their goodbyes and shuffled off. Shindae hopped off his stool after his flamy friend, and knocked Lahja’s elbow as he passed.

“You coming?” His blood red eyes followed the direction Lahja was staring in, and he snorted. “They won’t be done with each other until morning.”

“What does it feel like?” Lahja wondered as he watched the man and the snake together. His question made Shindae pause, and only belatedly did the angel turn to look over his shoulder, and realise he was now the one being stared at.

“Kissing?” Shindae queried uncertainly.

“Oh Lahja….” Kiaza, flushed from his super-warm lover, was nevertheless watching him with concern.

Only Sitka seemed able to give an adequate response.

“It sort of depends on who you’re kissing. Someone like Shindae kisses very differently from Kiaza after all. But you kissed Kiorl, right?”

“No….” Lahja shifted where he stood, suddenly uncomfortable in his own skin. He had grown used to so many sensations over the last few weeks; breathing, eating, washing, defecating, drinking, touching, travelling through The Way… but whatever it was which made his clothes feel suddenly tight and too hot, his vision cloudy at the edges, was new. He remembered the sensation of Kiorl’s lips against his, but at the time he’d just been scared. Now he watched Jeremiah touching Kiaza, saw something in the man’s eyes which he didn’t understand, and he wanted to know.

“Lahja.” Kiaza’s voice was soft and kind. “This isn’t something you have to do. Let’s go back to the house, yeah?”

The angel very nearly nodded at the suggestion. He was just about to turn around and leave, but something stopped him. There was a tight knot in his chest, a deep amorphous sensation in his stomach which had nothing to do with hunger, and he didn’t want to go on not knowing. He was almost surprised with how brave he sounded when he spoke.

“Would it bad if I wanted to?” He only ever spoke to Kiorl like that, because somehow it was easier to be firm in the panther’s presence than give into the fear of his immense power. “I want to know what it’s like.”

“To kiss someone?” Sitka asked with a broad smile.

“You got anyone specific in mind?” Jeremiah queried.

Lahja felt his face grow hot without his permission, and he glanced at Kiaza worriedly. He was glad none of the house’s empaths were there, because the moment Jeremiah had spoken, all he’d been able to see was a swathe of velvet black fur and blue eyes which looked like his own.

“A kiss?” Sitka’s voice had gone smug. “If anyone can show him what he likes… Jahke, babe, why don’t you help the guy out?”

“Really?” Jahke, who had up until that moment seemed happy to stay snuggled under Sitka’s arm, tracing invisible patterns on his mate’s skin, lit up at the suggestion. “Of course.”

“How’s that sound, Lahja?”

Lahja couldn’t find any words in his mouth, but he swallowed as a strange gnawing sensation crept up his throat.

This is what it must be like to be nervous.

He nodded mutely.

“Here.” Jahke held out a slender pale hand towards him, and Lahja forced himself to focus on the little demon’s soft blue eyes as he spoke. “Come with me, no need to be shy.”

Lahja followed Jahke and his bobbing white horns towards the back of the bar, where the low lights had already made pools of shadow. He could feel eyes on his back, and he knew they were still being watched. Jahke’s fingers in his own were smooth and warm, and Lahja concentrated on the feeling as he moved, trying not to give into the urge to sway along with the outer edges of his vision.

“Don’t you worry about them, they’re just jealous.” Jahke smiled as he leant close, his words damp and warm on Lahja’s skin. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Yes?” Lahja shivered.

Jahke licked his lips, and the motion distracted the angel in a manner he didn’t understand. Jahke’s lips were very pink.

“I’ve wanted to do this since you first got here.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh.” Jahke fisted his hands in the thick cloth of Lahja’s tabard, and used a tiny amount of force to back him up against the far wall. Lahja could feel heat radiating from the little fawn, watching the rise and fall of his chest, and wondered whose heartbeat it was he could hear so loud in his ears.

“I d-d-don’t know what to do.” Lahja admitted with a shiver.

Jahke stepped closer, his hooves between Lahja’s booted feet, and smiled gently as his fingers slid from Lahja’s collar to his jaw.

“Don’t worry. I do.”

Lahja took a last breath as his vision closed in. Jahke was so close it was hard to even think about focusing on anything else beyond his blush pink lips and bright blue eyes. Lahja had never noticed before how long his pale eyelashes were, how smooth his skin. Then there was a breath against his mouth, the touch of Jahke’s lips and the warm wetness of his tongue. Lahja opened his mouth unconsciously, and Jahke’s whole body pressed against his own as his lips became firmer, his tongue more insistent. Some hot and wonderful feeling raced down Lahja’s spine, making him dizzy, causing an ache to begin between his legs. Jahke’s hands skimmed over his shoulders, wrapped around the back of his neck, and as Lahja swiped the boy’s tongue with his own, the little demon moaned into his mouth.

He couldn’t say what effect the sound had on him, but it rushed into Lahja’s ears, whooshed through his body stronger than his racing pulse, and he couldn’t stop himself. Suddenly the kiss, pleasurable as it was, wasn’t enough. Lahja gripped Jahke’s clothes, pulled him closer, pushed into his mouth, and clacked their teeth together as he grabbed a fistful of the boy’s hair. He wanted more, now, but didn’t understand the ball of desire swelling in his abdomen, or how to soothe it. Jahke practically whimpered under the onslaught of his tongue and Lahja smiled to himself in his mind.

Now you really are damned, his inner voice said, sounding infinitely smug. Lahja had never heard himself sound like that before, but it was Sitka’s voice which drew him out of the full body contact with Jahke, and broke their kiss apart.

“Fuckin’ hell….”

Jahke was panting, his narrow chest rising and falling hard, his eyes wide, lips slack and moist. Lahja grinned.

“Wow.”

“Dude…!” Jeremiah sounded deeply impressed.

“Did you like it?” Jahke asked, his voice smooth and innocent as though his erection couldn’t be seen tenting his loin cloth.

“Yes. Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” Jahke pecked his cheek quickly, and skipped back over to Sitka. The big horned demon wrapped an arm around his lover’s waist and nuzzled his hair like he was proud. “He kisses like Kiorl.”

“Yeah?” Sitka asked as they turned for the door.

“Uh-huh. You should try, babe. It’s going to be real fun having him around.”

Do come join us in the discussion forum for shouting and silliness.
Copyright © 2017 Sasha Distan; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

Nassau and Kiorl so sad and lonely while Lahja is learning more wonderous things you can experience with a body. At first, I thought Kiorl would make a first move, but I guess it will have to be Lahja. Kiorl is too scared to scare him off and I suspect Lahja will not be able to contain his curiosity for much longer.

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On 01/11/2017 07:56 AM, Timothy M. said:

Hmm, I wonder whether Kiorl will be pissed or pleased about his angel getting kissing lessons. :P

equal measures of both?

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On 01/11/2017 08:27 AM, hohochan657 said:

What is that inner voice of Lahja ? It is so smug that I want to slap it into next week ... (grinding teeth) ... :pissed:

well he did get damned for a reason...

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On 01/11/2017 08:15 AM, Puppilull said:

Nassau and Kiorl so sad and lonely while Lahja is learning more wonderous things you can experience with a body. At first, I thought Kiorl would make a first move, but I guess it will have to be Lahja. Kiorl is too scared to scare him off and I suspect Lahja will not be able to contain his curiosity for much longer.

Nassau sort of loves his loneliness, for Kiorl it's new, strange and unpleasant. As for making moves, the cat doesn't want to get slapped again!

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