Stolen Pleasures: version 2 - 3. Chapter 3

The bed wasn’t like anything he was used to, and Jahke sat in the centre of the deep dish, wrapped in the biggest blanket with only his face visible, wondering what had happened. It wasn’t as though he’d blacked out when Sitka kissed him, and touching the demon had given them both such pleasure that sucking him off just seemed to be the most natural thing to do. But Jahke didn’t remember deciding to do it, and that scared him. The other thing which scared him was the fact that, as he watched Sitka sitting at the small, plain table, counting what appeared to be coins in and out of the various pockets and pouches of his discarded clothes, he was thinking about how good the demon looked in the soft not-candlelight of the stone room. He should have been repulsed, he should have wanted to run, or hide, or scream. But he didn’t, and that in itself was rather worrying.

Instead he observed the demon who sat across the room. Sitka had tried to reassure him during his panic, but he hadn’t complained about Jahke’s sudden flight across the room, or the fact he’d accidentally kicked the demon rather hard in the shin in his scramble to get away. Sitka had horns, black skin so dark it was almost purple in the warm, soft light that shone from the narrow alcoves set into the walls, a wave of thick ringlets which fell to his shoulders, and the strangest privates Jahke had ever imagined. And yet, he was a sexy, attractive, beautiful even. His sharp fangs protruded over his lower lip as he bit it gently in thought, and Jahke couldn’t help but find the motion endearing. He should have been horrified, but instead he followed the strong lines of muscle down Sitka’s toned thighs and densely furred cannons and pasterns to his neat trimmed hooves. At his feet were the clothes the demon had been wearing, and amongst them Jahke saw an object which made his heart race.

“My book!”

“Oh yeah.” Sitka bent to retrieve it, and offered the slim tome to him with an outstretched hand. “Figured you might want it, it looked new. None of us are what you’d call big readers, though I don’t think it’s the only book in the house.”

Jahke knelt forwards on the bed and took the book with careful fingers.

“Thank you.” He frowned, not really wanting to ask the question his mind had instantly flashed to him. But he did anyway. “You can read?”

“Well sure. My job comes with it’s own share of paperwork.”

“You’ve a job? But- you’re a demon!”

Sitka smiled gently.

“We all have jobs, Beautiful. Inai’s a guard, Shindae and I are Scavengers, Zai’s an Enforcer, Kiorl works for the Palace; he’s a member of the Royal Court, and a Hunter.”

Jahke frowned in confusion at the mass of names.

“They are the other demons we live with.” Sitka inclined his horned head towards the door. “There’s the whole rest of the house out there if you’d like to see it?”

“Umm...” Jahke’s stomach took that moment to make it’s own vocal demands, and the demon laughed.

“Tobias said you’d be hungry.”

“Who’s Tobias?”

“He lives here too. He’s Zai’s mate.”

“And does he have a job?” Jahke imagined the names of the other demons as neat specimen labels for the archive, each just waiting to be attached to a figure, and wondered what a creature with such a normal sounding name did in Hell.

“Ha! Tobias’s job is to feed everyone and be emotionally unavailable.” Sitka rolled his eyes. “But the food here was pretty dire before he came, so we try and keep him happy. Would you like to come and see the house? Or I can just bring you something?”

Jahke couldn’t help but smile at the hopeful tone in Sitka’s voice. It was very obvious that the horned demon was trying hard to please him, and Jahke thought it sweet of him to care so much. He patted the blankets next to him, and Sitka was at his side almost instantly. Jahke put his head on one side as he considered his companions eager smile, his teeth very white against his black skin, his strange eyes shining. He didn’t look much like the picture of the strange double-headed creature Jahke had seen in his book, and nothing like the man in the story of The Gentleman’s Boy. Sitka was very attractive, though Jahke wasn’t sure he could say why.

“Kiss me?”

“Always, Beautiful.”

Sitka leant forwards on the bed and gave a muffled yelp as Jahke met him halfway, eager to kiss the demon who had already given him more physical pleasure than he’d previously thought possible. Only when when Sitka groaned happily against him did Jahke sit back sharply, as his fear of discovery surfaced to make him glance furtively around the room.

“Jahke?”

“Umm… We should be careful. I mean, don’t the people you live with mind that y-y-you’re… that we’re...” Jahke didn’t even want to use the hated phrase in his head, the label which had followed him around his entire life, invisible and threatening, but he didn't have a better phrase to use. “It’s not safe to be an invert. Everyone knows that.”

To his surprise, Sitka burst out laughing. The sound was like river water over a gravel estuary, and Jahke wished he could capture the noise and the warm way it made him feel inside.

“Oh sweet boy! No. In Hell, everybody screws everybody else – apart from Tobias – and as long as everyone agrees, it’s all good.” Sitka beamed. “And anyway, no one in the house likes girls.”

“Huh?” Jahke didn’t think he’d ever sounded so dumbstruck in his life. “But, Tobias and-?”

“Zai. They’re both male. Tobias was human once; Zai recruited him. His world was a bit backward about sex too.” Sitka shrugged, as though it wasn’t important, and Jahke simply gaped at him. “Is that OK? Whoa!” Sitka’s hands came up around his sides as Jahke leapt at him, pinning the demon back against the bed. “I’ll take that as a yes?”

Demon or not, Jahke couldn’t have been happier with what he’d heard, and kissed his companion soundly. Sitka kissed like nothing he’d ever experienced – not even the other demon’s fire-hot cum had been as interesting – and Jahke was happy to be fully aware of what he was choosing to do. They were both panting when they parted, and Jahke frowned.

“Your tongue is black too.”

Sitka looked for a moment like he might apologise, and Jahke placed a pale finger against his lips instead. Without meaning to do so, he brushed the pad of his thumb over one of Sitka’s long fangs.

“I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t be.” Jahke could hardly believe what he was about to say. “I think I liked it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Did I taste good?”

“The best.” Sitka’s smooth fingers brushed down his neck, lingering on the little wounds which were still tender and painful to the touch. “A very rare treat.”

Sitka licked his lips, and Jahke was reminded of the proprietary way the demon had looked at him in the Reading Room, when Jahke had thought they were there to kill him. The memory made him shudder involuntarily.

“What… that thing you did before. When you stopped me being nervous, what was that?”

“Compulsion.” Sitka intoned the word carefully.

“Is it magic?”

“Ha! No, I can’t do magic. I’m not powerful or old enough for that. It’s a talent, a skill.” Sitka thought for a moment, his head titled once again, and Jahke resisted the urge to stroke his silky looking hair. “Every demon has something they’re naturally gifted at. Some have more than one talent, but everyone has something. Usually it helps dictate your job, and compulsion can be a great way to get people to give you things for free. Kiorl says it’s wasted on scavenging, but I could never be a Hunter. It’s too delicate, and too...” Sitka looked at him levelly, as though admitting something he wasn’t really supposed to say. “Personally, I think all the Hunters are a fucking cold bunch, but then I suppose you have to be to take people’s souls away. I couldn’t do it.” He reached out to brush Jahke’s pale fringe from his eyes and smiled gently. “I’m sorry I used it on you again. I just didn’t want you to be scared.”

“I promise not to hit you with a piece of armour again.” Jahke took Sitka’s hand, pressing his cheek into his warm palm. “Why do you wear it anyway?”

“I'm immortal, not invincible.” Sitka replied with a grin. “But it’s more for show, and for fighting in the Arena. Upstairs isn’t particularly dangerous unless you run into a dragon, and then no fancy breastplate is gonna save you anyway.” He paused. “Sorry, too much?”

“No. I’m alright.” Jahke took a deep breath. “It’s a lot to process.”

“Would you like to eat?”

“Yes please.” Jahke looked down at himself with a frown. “I’m not wearing anything.”

Sitka’s wardrobe appeared to contain more belts than Jahke had previous thought existed, one full if mismatched suit of armour, a dozen loin cloths in various lengths and levels of embellishments, and a large metal rasp of the type Jahke was certain he’d seen once in a stable yard. He stared again at Sitka’s hooves next to his own bare feet, and frowned.

“So...no shoes?” He didn’t say that he was dying to touch the fur which blended smoothly with Sitka’s dark skin where his calf became a pastern instead of an ankle.

“Sorry. I didn’t think about that. I can ask Tobias and Zai if they have anything that would fit you, but you’re more slender than either of them...”

Jahke hushed him with a smile, and shrugged. He wanted to point out that the demon also didn’t own any shirts, or in fact anything approaching tailoring, but he resisted. He fingered the soft fabric of a navy blue cloth with pale geometric embroidery.

“I don’t know how to wear one of these.”

“May I?”

Jahke gulped as Sitka took the cloth from his fingers, then knelt in front of him. When he looked up, the demon’s dark eyes were full of an emotion Jahke wasn't sure he could name, but which he certainly liked the look of. Sitka leant forwards and pressed a soft kiss against his hipbone. Jahke blushed, and wished his excitable privates were already covered as his cock twitched in a rather noticeable manner.

“If you’re not hungry…?” Sitka offered, but Jahke’s stomach growled before he could answer. “Alright, alright. Later? May I?”

Jahke had never imagined a scenarios where anyone, of any type, ever actually asked if they could pleasure him, and nodded mutely, not quite trusting himself to speak.

Sitka tapped each of his thighs in turn, then slung the centre of the cloth between his legs, gathering it either side before performing some deft looping motion until Jahke was left with two layers of fabric over either hip, and a panel hanging down both front and rear with his private and buttocks snugly covered beneath. Sitka smoothed the hem with careful fingers, and stood to take a narrow leather belt from the wardrobe. He secured it over the top of he loin cloth with broad grin.

“You look like you belong here.”

“I feel… underdressed. Are you sure I'm allowed to be wearing so little?”

“You’re perfect. I doubt anyone else will be up anyway. It’s late.”

“It is?”

Jahke followed his companion out into a long hallway, lined with very normal looking dark wooden doors, and arched alcoves which glowed extremely faintly. Sitka walked softly, and Jahke found his hand slipping easily into the demon’s as they began to descend a wide, sweeping staircase.

“So… who was-” Jahke didn’t want to sound so callous as to just say ‘the other guy’, but wasn’t sure if describing the demon with the fiery eyes would be taken as an offence, “-it with us before, in the Reading Room?”

“Shindae, he’s a scavenger like me.” Sitka turned to him with a concerned expression. “Beautiful… would you rather be with him? I’m sorr-”

This time, Jahke stopped his apology with a kiss, though he had to stand on tiptoes to do it, balancing himself on the demon’s broad shoulders.

“Stop apologizing.”

“Anything you say, Beautiful.” Sitka grinned toothily.

Jahke glanced around the dimly lit foyer, as though he was expecting someone to be listening to them.

“He was nice though. Would it be wrong if I wanted…. um...” Jahke blushed. Knowing exactly what he wanted to ask for and actually saying it out loud, a crime which until very recently would have had him beaten up and arrested, were very different things.

“You want him to join us again sometime?” Sitka beamed as he correctly interpreted Jahke’s embarrassment. “Oh Beautiful, that wouldn’t be wrong at all. And he’d love to, I'm sure.”

“Oh!”

“C’mon, let’s see what Tobias has left for us.”

The kitchen wasn’t much like any Jahke had ever seen, though he was not intimately familiar with rooms in which food was prepared, having at best only a passable ability to make toast over the little grate in the room he’d rented. Chief among it’s features though, was the boy who stood in front of the large open hearth, watching the embers of what had clearly been a rather hot fire.

“Oh, you’re still up.” Sitka sounded surprised. “Tobias, this is Jahke.”

The young man was dressed warmly, despite the lingering heat in the air, and he turned to smile at Jahke in welcome. One eyebrow arched when he saw what Jahke was wearing, but he made no comment.

“I stayed up mostly to make sure it wasn’t one of the others you met first. Some of our housemates can be a little intimidating.”

“You’re not still holding that mess against Kiorl, are you?” Sitka quickly looked like he wished he hadn’t spoken. “C’mon Tobias, you’re gonna scare him off.”

“You want me to feed you?”

Sitka muttered something which sounded like another apology, and Jahke took the opportunity to scrutinize the boy. He looked like a teenager, but there was something hard and flinty in his dark blue eyes which spoke of age and experience far beyond the youthfulness of his face. Jahke remembered what Sitka had said about Tobias having been human once, and held out his hand.

“I’m Jahke.” As they shook hands, Jahke had the feeling Tobias was looking at him with much more than eyes. “It smells very nice in here.”

“I baked. Again. These guys get through a lot of bread.” Tobias appeared not to be able to keep still whilst he talked, and began to assemble a collection of foods which made Jahke suddenly ravenous. There was, as promised, freshly baked bread, butter, a selection of what appeared to be cheeses, half a large cold meat pie, and a platter of round white-

“Meringues!” Jahke reached for one of the little sweets and froze with it against his lips when he realised the other two were both staring at him. “What?”

“Um… Forgotten Cookies. What did you say?”

“Meringues.” Jahke punctuated himself by eating one. “That’s what the French call them. I think the lady at the Patisserie said they used to be called Forgotten Cookies back in the olden days… How long have you been here?” He finished dubiously.

“I’m not sure. I never had much need to count beyond two dozen, but it’s been much longer than that. Sitka?”

“There’s been… five Mabon festivals since you came.” the demon smiled. “Because you did ox for the first one, then pork, mutton, that thing with the whirring birds, and pork again last year. So… half a century?”

“You can always be relied upon to remember food.” Tobias rolled his eyes, and turned back to Jahke. “What’s a patisserie?”

“A shop where they sell French pastries.” Of all the things Jahke had thought he might be asked, this was not one of them. “Sorry, did you say you’ve been here fifty years? You don’t look-”

“Appearances can be deceiving, Jahke.” The way Tobias said his name made the young man shiver as he stood the other side of the long bar, because Tobias sounded like he knew all of the questions spinning around Jahke’s head, including the ones he was much too polite to ask. “I’ll leave you both to the food.” As he reached the end of the bar, Tobias speared Sitka with a very specific glare. “No sex in the kitchen.”

“But-”

“Sitka!”

“Yes Tobias, sorry Tobias.” Sitka ducked his great horned head as the other man left the kitchen by a back staircase. Only when he was gone, did he straighten up and smile again. “And that’s Tobias. He’s the best cook in the Inner Circle, but it’s hard living with empaths.”

Jahke opened his mouth to say something about it being fairer to give warning that someone you lived with could practically read minds before you met them, but his stomach interrupted him again. A meringue was not equal to dinner, and Jahke was reminded that he hadn’t eaten since breakfast and he’d no idea how much time had passed since then. He took a seat next to Sitka, and began to slice the cold meat pie with a small bone handled knife which had been left out.

“Tell me about being a scavenger? You said something about Tobias’ world… does that mean there’s more than one?”

“Yes Beautiful. There are lots and lots of worlds, some say infinite. Some are very different from yours, but there are lots of Earths, only slightly different from one another. Tobias is from one a bit like yours, only I think his had less… sophistication. I don’t think I’ve ever been there.” Sitka was distracted by a soft clucking noise, and Jahke realised at the far end of the kitchen was a selection of cages filled with chickens. “Chickens at least seem to be common across the ‘verse. I think if we let him run out of eggs, he’d kill us.”

Jahke was about to say that Tobias didn’t seem like the type to be inclined towards violence, then remembered the cowed expression Sitka had worn when he was glared at, and decided against it.

“Being a scavenger is pretty good. We pick up lists from Requisitions and go out into the ‘verse to collect anything and everything that can’t grow in the outer circles or isn’t made here. Shindae and I generally go together – we do a lot of special requests, hard to find items, that sort of thing.”

“So… travel, see the world, and steal stuff?” Jahke summarized.

“Yeah, that’s about the gist of it. You have to be really good at navigating to be a scavenger. There’s so many paths in The Way, and not everyone can just pick out the ones they want like we can.” Sitka turned towards him, and Jahke was certain he had not misread the hungry expression on his face. His strong thighs spread, knees touching Jahke’s own, as he relaxed with one arm against the bar. Jahke bit his lip, blushing as he realised that his loin cloth was making Sitka’s visual effect on him rather obvious. “C’mere Beautiful.”

“But Tobias said...”

“It ain’t sex if you keep your clothes on Jahke.” Sitka licked his lips with his black tongue, and Jahke gave up all pretence at resistance, and slid himself over into Sitka’s lap. He looped his legs around the demon’s hips and steadied himself with a hand in the centre of his broad chest.

“This is surprisingly comfortable.”

“Mmm… best seat in the house.”

“So modest.”

Jahke laughed softly, then gasped as Sitka ran bold hands down his ribs, each strong finger pressing into him and making him shiver happily. The demon’s hands came to settle on his waist, and Jahke leant forward to kiss him again. Sitka’s tongue on his own was familiar enough not to feel strange, and Jahke found his arms sliding around the demon’s shoulders and he was pulled up against the hard muscled chest. His companion groaned against him, and Jahke wondered if Sitka was just easily pleased or if he himself was actually doing something right. When the demon abandoned his mouth and began to kiss down his throat, Jahke whimpered.

“Go on, moan for me.”

“Nghhhh….”

“Ain’t nobody to need to be careful about Beautiful,” Sitka punctuated his words with kiss along his collar bone. “You don’t have to hold back.” He licked the half-healed wounds his fangs had left in Jahke’s skin, and the boy shivered.

Sitka leant back, and Jahke smiled at the questioning look in his dark eyes, hardly believing he was allowing himself to ask the question.

“Do I really taste good?”

Sitka nodded mutely, his broad chest heaving visibly with the effort of holding still.

“Can I touch…?” Jahke gestured to the demon’s thick spiral horns, and was pleased when Sitka smiled and pushed one into his open palm. Jahke wasn’t sure that he’d expected the demon’s horns to be warm, but he used his grip to bring Sitka’s lips back to the skin of his collar again. “Go on then.”

“Oh Beautiful...”

Sitka’s teeth were incredibly sharp, and Jahke’s skin not yet really healed, but that didn’t stop the sudden point of pain, and Jahke cried out as he held fast to the demon, fingers tight around one horn and in the thick mass of his curly hair. He whimpered as Sitka drew his blood, then again as the demon ground against his taint, the hardness contained within his loincloth much more prominent than it had been. He tilted Sitka’s face up to kiss him again, and only remembered afterwards that the demon had drunk his blood. Jahke couldn’t have said quite what changed, but suddenly he found himself slipping from Sitka’s lap, every muscle quivering in fear once more.

“Jahke?”

“I-I-I don’t want t-t-to be s-s-s-scared...” He hated the way his voice shook, and wished he could shut off all the remembered voices playing in his head, decrying and damning everything he wanted and everything he’d done.

“Hey, whoa… it’s OK.” Sitka was with in in an instant, big hands wrapped around his forearms, standing close enough that Jahke could feel the heat of him along his front. “Look at me Jahke. Look at me, Beautiful. That’s better.” Sitka’s smile was soft, and Jahke wanted nothing more than to climb into the safety of his arms and never let go. “Just breathe.”

There was no cool slide of power from the demon’s touch, just the heat of his skin and the deep, slow thud of his heartbeat. Jahke pressed himself against Sikta, and half wished the demon would use his compulsion just so he could be free of the thoughts in his his head. Instead he said-

“Tighter.”

And Sitka obeyed, crushing him tight against his chest, chin resting over the top of Jahke’s head, enveloping him in the cage of his body. Jahke whimpered.

“Still scared?”

“Yes.”

“Of me?” the demon rumbled.

“No.”

“You’ve a whole lifetime of cultural stupidity and oppression to work through Beautiful. Can’t fix that in one night.”

“Oh… Sitka?”

“Yes?” The demon’s voice rumbled in his chest, and Jahke pressed his face against the sensation, wishing he hadn’t cried at all.

“Take me to bed?”

Sitka made a pleased noise, and Jahke let himself be lifted, wrapped securely in Sitka’s arms, and carried back to their room.