Chapter Five

 

 

 

The shower stall was barely big enough for them to move around in—Seth’s shoulders knocked against the ceramic more than once—but there was also a kind of mini-vestibule between the shower and the door that theoretically gave them a place to dry off—theoretically, because it seemed to have been designed for a person as flat and skinny as a wooden plank. So it took some stretching and maneuvering for them to reach a leg into the stall while the other showered in relative privacy.

There were still no new clothes in the wardrobe. Even though both of them were used to dirty conditions, neither of them wanted to put on the clothes they’d been wearing, which smelled of popcorn, peanuts and spunk. So they just wrapped towels around themselves and went to bed that way, with their sheets and their pillows between them, sleeping uncomfortably on the springless mattress.

However, fulfilling the demons’ magic plus taking the cold showers had worked to get Seth to sleep more soundly. He didn’t wake up until he heard the van below them start, while the world outside was still dark. Then he went back to sleep without any trouble.

When he opened his eyes again, it was daylight and Lars was peering out of the curtained window on his side of the bed, his finger hooked with one of Seth’s over the mountain of pillow barriers. He looked over when Seth waking up made their fingers shift.

“New place,” Lars said. “Don’t know where. It’s just empty field except where the golem people put the big tent up. Those guys really are like worker ants, carrying these giant generators like they weigh nothing.”

A knock on the door brought them down from the loft. They each made sure their towels were knotted securely, but they’d worn less to the beach, and these people were the reason they had to wear the towels in the first place. So if it made them uncomfortable, they could damn well be uncomfortable.

It didn’t. Bell showed no sign of being intimidated by two practically naked men crammed on the stairs. He held a stack of clothes in his arms.

“Kitty was otherwise occupied,” he said, as pleasant as a neighbor. “You’ll find that these will suffice for what you need.” He split the pile into two then handed one set to Lars, the other to Seth.

Seth went through the stack. It didn’t take long to notice what was missing. Like shirts. And underwear. There were two kinds of fabric, leather and cotton. Both looked like they’d been tailored to fit to the contours of their bodies, as skintight as the costumes of many of the rest of the male cast. There was one pair of thin, loose cotton trousers like the kind Bell and Misha wore.

“The leather is for performances. Brown for when we’re joined with a Renaissance faire. Black for the rest. When I require it, you will wear the shorts, but we’ll stick with long trousers for now. The thin cotton is for when the circus is open but you’re not performing, if you don’t wish to wear the leather. But the other cotton trousers, the ones you’re holding now, they’re for when the circus is closed and you’re rehearsing. You might as well get used to not wearing anything on your torso. When winter arrives, I’ll see about offering you additional covering. Lady Sasha’s leather is more comfortable than it looks, and you’ll grow accustomed to the freedom of bare skin. We all do.”

Bell crossed his arms, the tilt of his hips casual, unassuming, still unthreatened by the men who now glared at him.

“Breakfast is backstage. I suggest you eat well and let the food settle. Valorie will start your rehearsals after. You’ve been imbued with knowledge and skill, but you don’t yet know how to use it. I imagine you’ll give my contortionist some trouble for her effort. I would tell you not to, that you will have to answer to me, but I know Valorie. I don’t have to resort to idle threats when hers are not.”

“I thought she was human,” Seth said.

“So is Charles Manson,” Lars muttered.

“She’s not quite that bad,” Bell said. “Now, the longer you stall, the less time you’ll have to eat.”

He left them without another word.

Out of a lack of anything else to wear, they put on their pairs of tight, thick cotton trousers that stopped above the knee and clung to them like football pants. The crotch had built-in support and shaping, but it did little to conceal the natural bulges.

Seth envied Lars’ dark skin tone. No one could see it when he blushed, whereas Seth’s Irish heritage made sure short-sighted nuns noticed the fire-engine red of his cheeks under the light dusting of freckles. At least football players had jockstraps and jerseys. Seth felt way too exposed as he and Lars descended the stairs and left the RV.

However, he tried to imagine they were walking down a beach boardwalk surrounded by even more scantily clad women, not circus grounds surrounded by demons, captives and zombies. That helped most of the blush fade by the time they entered the big top through the backstage entrance.

“Seth, Lars, come join us,” Kitty said, beckoning from where she sat with Valorie, the Tattooed Man, the Human Torso and the conjoined twins.

He and Lars served themselves breakfast burritos. They’d already figured out a seamless taking-turns system to keep in contact when an activity demanded two hands. They’d only been attached for two days. While there was still plenty to learn about how to survive without killing each other or spontaneously combusting from the little and not-so-little humiliations, it was amazing how quickly they’d adapted.

It was almost like learning to dance. Which was ironic, because although Seth could manage fancy footwork on the soccer field, he couldn’t dance to save his life—a source of much amusement for Lars whenever Seth had stepped onto a dance floor. Seth had usually just shrugged sheepishly and had a good time anyway. It wasn’t like he’d ever wanted to try out for a dance crew.

But for this dance, Seth hadn’t tripped over Lars once.

Lars straddled the bench to sit on it. Seth did the same in order to more easily maintain the requisite contact.

“I remember you,” one of the conjoined twins said.

He couldn’t see her legs, but if she recognized him, she’d probably been the left twin in the oddity tent. She was sitting on the right now, straddling the bench like he and Lars but facing away by necessity.

“I remember you too,” Seth replied. He’d been concerned that he wouldn’t be able to smile again, but it came easily and sincerely in response to hers.

“Are you sure you don’t remember me instead?” the farther twin asked, looking over her shoulder.

“If I could see your legs, I’d be able to tell for sure,” Seth said. “I’ll just have to take your word for it, I guess.”

“Cheeky,” the farther twin said.

“I’m Joanne,” the first twin said. “She’s Jane. I’m the one who remembers you.”

“I remember him too,” Jane said. “Who wouldn’t remember a pair of fine-looking men? Oh, sorry, is it too early to shamelessly flirt? Joanne’s not a morning person. She says I’m too perky before everyone’s had their coffee.”

“Never been a problem,” Lars said. He and Seth weren’t necessarily morning people, but they were used to getting up early to run.

Seth checked the girls’ faces. His twin had a freckle on her neck on the right side while Jane had one on her left. He’d be able to remember which one was Joanne now.

“So what are you going to be doing for us?” the Human Torso asked. “I’m Christina, by the way. And the well-inked man to my left is Troy.”

She used a steampunk-looking contraption that attached to her shoulder in order to eat on her own. Troy brought her water to her mouth, though, and Joanne helped her wipe her lips. Seth couldn’t think of a polite way to ask whether she’d been cursed or born that way, so he just tried not to stare.

“No one’s told us what we’ve been hired on to do yet,” Lars said, “which is weird, isn’t it?”

“The way I see it,” Seth said, “it could be that it’s nothing too awful, and Bell just wanted us to stew about it for the last two days. Or he could have not told us about it because it is that bad, and he didn’t want us freaking out, trying to climb up the fence and getting spikes in our balls to get out. Either way, the torment is ingenious, when you think about it.”

Valorie laughed. “It might be daunting at first, but I assure you that aerial acrobatics aren’t nearly as scary as you’re making them out to be, especially in Arcanium. Trust me, kids, you’re going to be stars. And I’m going to have a glass of wine at the end of the performances instead of closing the show. I’ve been wanting to move out of the closing slot for a while, but with Lady Sasha and Lord Mikhail and the clowns having to open, we haven’t had any other striking visual for a conclusion. So thank you, gentlemen, for taking some of the pressure off.”

“Our pleasure,” Lars said, biting bitterness clipping his tone. “That’s why we’re here.”

“Yes, it is,” Valorie said. Her voice wasn’t quite as bitter, but it was certainly brittle, her dark cat eyes knowing. They met Lars’ without flinching.

“If you think we’re going to just take it from the boss’s wh—” Lars started.

Seth clapped his hand over Lars’ mouth. Damn it, he was attached to Lars and didn’t need the shrapnel. He gave Lars a pointed look, reminding him what they had agreed. Lars tightened his jaw, but he took a deep breath behind Seth’s hand and his tense posture relaxed.

“Good boy,” Valorie said to Seth. “Yes, it’s time to act like gentlemen—sweet, charming, flirtatious. You might as well learn the subtle art of submission earlier rather than later, because everything you do from now on is for the patrons and for the circus. The sooner you realize we’re all whores—every last one of us—then you’ll be able to let go of all that toxic anger. Didn’t your mama ever tell you anger gives you wrinkles?” she added with her mouth full.

“No,” Lars said once Seth had uncovered his mouth.

“Must be a girl thing. Just remember, happy makes you handsome and you use fewer muscles to smile and all that crap,” Valorie said. “I’m not your enemy. That takes far too much work. If you fail, it’ll come out of your hides, not mine.”

“So if we don’t learn how to do an aerial acrobatics routine good enough for this circus—which we’ve seen is better than it looks on the outside—the Ringmaster is going to punish us for it? Does anyone else see anything wrong with this picture?” Seth asked. “It takes circus performers years to perfect their craft, and you want us to learn it in a few days.”

“Oh, my dear boy,” Valorie purred as she stood. “You are in for a treat.” She patted his cheek and left through the red curtain.

“I can’t decide whether to like her, hate her or be afraid of her,” Seth muttered when she was out of earshot.

“Nothing wrong with all three,” Jane said. “Don’t worry. It’s not just you. On the bright side, she’s not actually evil, so there’s that.”

“Well, we’ve never had to learn choreography from her,” Joanne pointed out.

“True. Be afraid,” Jane replied.

“She’s kidding,” Joanne said, offering Seth and Lars a shy smile. “Mostly.”

“There’s no danger in the ring,” Troy said.

Seth was briefly distracted when he noticed Troy’s tongue had been bisected like a lizard’s. He’d never liked extensive body modification. He and Lars had sworn to get tattoos if they made it into professional soccer, but that looked like it was a long time in coming. However, underneath the realistic half-skeleton, half-muscle anatomy lesson of his face and the holes and metal piercings almost everywhere a hole could be made, Troy had kind eyes. And he was so gentle with Christina.

With all the man’s flashy, dark ornamentation, Seth might have missed that Troy was head over heels in love with her.

It hit him right in his chest to see it. Lust and shame were a whole other ballgame. If there was actual love here, could it really be hopeless?

“Even Misha doesn’t bleed during the performances,” Troy continued. “It’s safe.”

“Except when the Ringmaster brings you there,” Kitty said. “But then you’ll know you’re not safe. Otherwise, Troy’s right. You’ll be fine. Remember, wonders and marvels. It doesn’t all have to be horror. You saw that last night.”

“Yeah. Bell doesn’t let you get hurt,” Christina said. “It’s part of his weird code. I’ve been here two years. It’s not like I can fight back under bad circumstances,” she said, moving the stubs of her arms. “But the way Bell sees it, the only ones allowed to harm you are him and the Ringmaster. The Ringmaster can only hurt you if you run or threaten us. And Bell’s already done his damage.”

“Damage?” Seth asked. Really, no delicate way to ask her.

“Granting the wish,” Christina said. “No, I wasn’t born this way, nor was I a quadruple amputee. It could have hurt, but I didn’t feel anything. Other parts of you hurt, but in the end, those parts aren’t because of him. That’s just you.”

“So you got cursed in too,” Lars said.

Christina nodded. “Troy’s voluntary, but I’m going to be here like this for a long time. Sometimes I think it’s better.”

She leaned against Troy, her eyes becoming glassy and the skin beneath her eyes seeming to go spontaneously dark.

Seth had never experienced it himself, but his cousin was bipolar. That was depression in her eyes, and Seth had a feeling it had nothing to do with losing her limbs.

“Also cursed,” Joanne said, raising her hand. “But we don’t have to do much in Arcanium yet. I’m not sure we ever will. We’re not exactly mobile. Took us six months to figure out how to walk.”

“I assume it’s easier for twins who were this way since birth,” Jane said, “since they learn to walk while attached to each other. It was like tug-of-war for a while with us. But now at least we can move through the circus at a brisk-ish pace. We can’t run to save our lives, but like Christina said, that’s what Bell’s protection is for.”

“Suddenly our curse doesn’t seem so bad,” Lars said.

Speak for yourself. But he didn’t say it out loud. What Bell had done to them had its own complications. Not the same, but complications nonetheless.

With women to talk to, it was as though Lars had forgotten what it had been like with just the two of them in the RV. Seth had Kitty next to him and Joanne and Christina across from him—all women who intrigued him on a curiosity level as well as the standard attractiveness level. Yet Lars’ arm was against his. Seth couldn’t ignore that the way Lars obviously could, slipping into a conversation with Jane, Troy and Christina as though they were eating in one of their university cafeterias and not in a demonic circus with a bunch of other people who’d been cursed in.

“They all have their downsides,” Kitty said, as though she once again knew what Seth had been thinking. “Some of them are more apparent than others.”

“Yes. The funny thing is, I just caught Bell on an off-day and pissed him off with a weight-loss wish,” Christina said. “He doesn’t hate me. Sometimes I think he even likes me. And I think… I think he curses you with what you need, even if it takes you a long time to understand why you need it. He’s like God. He never gives you more than you can handle, as long as he’s not outright punishing you.”

“Are you actually saying you think it’s a good thing?” Lars asked. If it had been Valorie or Kitty saying it, maybe he would have sounded angry. Lars apparently had trouble sounding accusatory at someone who had lost her limbs.

“I’m saying that once I found my peace with it, I realized Arcanium has something to offer me too,” Christina said. “I don’t like to talk about my life before, but the Lord as my witness, I know now that I needed this. I think I’ll be able to finally leave when I no longer need it.”

“Arcanium seems like a hell at first,” Joanne agreed quietly. “It’s certainly not heaven. But it’s a kind of catharsis. I don’t know whether it’s that way for everyone. I’m not sure what Misha gets out of looking like he’s going to keel over at any moment.” She glanced over at where the sword swallower was gingerly eating by himself. “We needed Arcanium, though.”

“Why? Were you on the run from the mob or something?” Lars asked. “I’m having a hard time figuring out what makes Arcanium so much better than the outside world. Or how tearing us from a pretty damn good life is going to, what? Give us absolution? I may sometimes be a mouthy son of a bitch, but things were going well, and it wasn’t my wish.”

“I don’t want to talk about my old life either,” Joanne said.

“It’s kind of embarrassing,” Jane explained.

“But no matter how hard it was to learn to do all the basic things all over again, I’m like Christina. I’m not ready to leave,” Joanne continued. “We’re not ready. And Arcanium gives you a place to not be ready.”

“I’m hella ready to leave,” Lars said. “Bell just won’t let us wish out immediately. That’s what pirate beard chick over here told us.”

“You’ve only been here a few days,” Kitty said, picking up Lars’ and Seth’s empty plates to throw away. “Maybe you don’t know what you need yet.”

“Ring or trailer?” Troy asked Christina as he stood.

“Ring,” Christina replied. “No offense, boys, but I’m not going to miss your first few rehearsals for the world. I think you’re going to be amazing.”

Troy unlatched the contraption Christina had used to eat and lifted her up onto his hip. He wasn’t big by any stretch of the imagination. He took excellent care of himself, with a wiry kind of strength, but he was a shorter man, and the tattoos almost concealed his rope-like muscles. However, Christina had clearly been a slip of a woman before she’d been cursed. Losing her arms and legs had only made her lighter, and Troy held her with the ease of familiarity.

Seth thought it was odd but endearing to see a woman like Christina—who could be a PTA mom if one ignored the stubs of her limbs—with a walking scare like Troy. The more he saw them together, the more he envied them, although he couldn’t shake the memory of the dullness of her eyes and the dark circles under them.

Looked like she had a little more absolution to go through.

“Same here,” Jane said. “Front-row seat for me and my twin, no question.”

“For you ladies, I’ll be amazing,” Lars said.

“You talk a big game now that the boss’s lady is out. I’ll believe it when I see it,” Joanne said, but she directed that at Seth as much as Lars.

“If anyone’s going to make a fool of himself, it’ll probably be me,” Seth admitted.

“Nothing wrong with a little comedy relief,” Joanne said kindly. “And self-consciousness is highly overrated. We’re all freaks here.”

“Yes, but are you freaks with two left feet who can’t be graceful to save your lives?” Seth said.

When he realized what he’d said, Seth put his head in the crook of his elbow on the table.

“Oh God, shoot me now,” he muttered.

Both Joanne and Jane just laughed.

 

* * * *

 

Around the ring, a good number of the cast were sitting in the audience. Either they didn’t have anything to practice or had decided to take a day off. In a circus where the cast were given innate knowledge and ability, Seth guessed they could do that more often than regular circus people.

He also got the impression that people were sticking around just to watch them, including Lord Mikhail and Lady Sasha, who sat in the back row on opposite sides of the ring.

He also got to see what Joanne had been talking about when she’d said it had taken so long to learn how to walk. She and her twin were conjoined in such a way that if they walked backward or forward according to one twin’s orientation, the other wouldn’t be able to see. That forced them to lean against each other and work their shoulders while they walked sideways, otherwise their legs knocked against each other. As it was, they crab-walked with an odd, drunken gait, but at least they got to where they were going.

When the twins weren’t dressed up for Oddity Row, they wore low-rise jeans and midriffed T-shirts, but it was practical rather than flirtatious, because the waistline of the jeans stopped just below where they were attached. The T-shirts only folded up a little on the back.

It was surreal to actually see where they had been conjoined, as though their skin had melted and merged together at the spine. The way they stood and walked had to do a real number on their backs.

It was probably nothing compared to having limbs hacked off—however painless Christina had said it had been—but Seth still felt for them as he watched them sit down like pregnant women, straddling the first-row bench so they wouldn’t have to climb. They gave Lord Mikhail, who was directly across from them, a nervous look. Seth peered over his shoulder into the shadow on that side of the ring, suspicious.

Mikhail smoldered like burning coal in the corner of a furnace, staring at the twins before turning his gaze to the red curtain, where Valorie stepped out in a tight T-shirt and cotton pants much like Seth’s and Lars’. She wasn’t wearing a bra. Her nipples made two tantalizing points on the fabric, the curve of her breasts small, natural and enticing.

Yep, definitely straight. That was such a relief to him, he’d kiss Valorie’s feet if she asked him to.

Though it also meant he had to go into failing negotiations with his penis—which probably wasn’t helped by the incubus and succubus in the room. Getting hard in these pants while so many of the cast were watching him was a recipe for humiliation if ever there was one. All he needed to do now was forget his homework for a class he’d never taken, and it would become one of those awkwardly arousing nightmares.

Some light string-quartet music played through the speakers, background music as Valorie herded Seth and Lars away from the ring’s edge toward the center. Then she beckoned to the rafters for someone to bring one of the trapeze swings down. It was identical to the central one that Valorie had used, but this one was slightly off center.

“We’re going to start basic today,” Valorie said. “You’re going to see what your bodies are capable of. Once you’re used to hanging, we’ll work on synchronicity.”

“So we’re just going to hang on this thing?” Lars asked, warily considering the bar.

“It’s on a track like a carousel,” Valorie replied. “You’ll hang on it for a few rounds to get a feel for it.”

“We just grab on and hang?” Seth asked.

“You’re not helping the jock stereotype right now, gentlemen. This isn’t rocket science. Jump up and hang on.”

Seth jumped up first, Lars’ hand slipping from Seth’s shoulder and down his back. Lars sighed then joined him.

“This feels really stupid,” Lars said as they hung side by side. Their feet dangled a little over two feet from the ground.

Valorie motioned to start the swing on its track. Seth adjusted his grip as the trapeze moved. It was a funny thing. Seth did pull-ups, and one of the things he knew his palm was supposed to be doing was generating sweat and decreasing friction. That’s what chalk or gripping gloves were for. But his palms stayed dry and strong. He didn’t have to work to hold on, and neither did Lars.

It was also funny that, despite Lars saying it felt really stupid, to Seth it felt anything but.

“All right, now turn toward each other,” Valorie said. “Just like that. No, don’t move away.”

“You’ve got to be kidding. I’m not going to—” Lars said.

“Cut,” Valorie shouted to the rafters. The trapeze abruptly halted. Both Seth and Lars let go and immediately tried to step away from each other.

When Valorie had told them to turn toward each other, it had brought their hips flush together. And while they could maybe deal with it when they were alone, they were emphatically not alone now. They were in front of people who they had to live with—perhaps longer than Seth had originally planned. And the very idea that these people would think they were gay with their bodies so close—and with the reaction that Lars’ chest and hips against his had caused, a hot, tight tendril of arousal where his cock had already shown interest for Valorie—filled Seth with a fear he’d never felt before.

It was similar to the fear when he’d taken Lars’ cock in his hand during last night’s performance—a deep icicle of numbing terror that he couldn’t put a name to. He needed to get away from it as fast as he could, just as Lars did. But one of their legs refused to part. Their simultaneous retreat nearly pulled them off balance at the ankles.

Valorie strode up to Lars and grabbed his chin between her manicured nails. She didn’t dig them in enough to dent his skin, but the abruptness and unapologetic nature of the gesture startled Lars enough that he didn’t shake her away.

“I don’t know how guys who smack each other’s butts, who shower and get naked in the same room with each other and who have all these sports rituals can be so afraid of what a little contact will say about them,” Valorie said. “But whatever self-consciousness you have, it’s time to get…over…it. Lord Mikhail and Lady Sasha are performing every night practically naked. Troy often makes do with less as well. Kitty practically falls out of her corset if she’s feeling like a vixen, and I haven’t worn underwear in almost seventeen years.”

She released Lars’ chin then reached for Seth and pulled him closer to Lars.

“I want you to hug him,” Valorie said.

“What?” Seth’s voice seemed faraway to his ears, but that might have just been the lightheadedness.

“Hug your partner. Trust me, you’re going to get this close to each other in front of audiences for a long time. Because of the constant contact you have to keep, the choreography will require it. You might as well start getting used to it now. Hug him.”

“No way,” Lars said, trying to back up again.

Valorie raised a finger to stop him. She pointed to Seth.

“Now. I will tie you together if I have to, but I think you’d rather do things voluntarily. That’ll save us from wasting more time than we have to. And if I have to tie you together, I’ll leave you that way much longer than otherwise. It’s just a damn hug. Do it.”

The whisper of bare feet on sawdust drew Seth’s attention to the red curtain, where Bell had stepped out. He crossed his arms over his chest, amused.

“You’re sick,” Lars said. “Just like your boyfriend, you’re sick wanting to look at that.”

Valorie tilted her head and pursed her lips. But unlike Kitty, she wasn’t hurt by Lars’ accusations. She just raised her eyebrow until Seth took Lars’ wrist. He pointedly looked at Bell again so Lars could see who’d joined their audience.

Lars resisted, but not vociferously, as Seth drew him closer and wrapped his arms around Lars’ shoulders. It didn’t get any less awkward when Lars placed his hands over Seth’s spine, spreading his fingers. They kept their hips apart until Valorie gently pressed their lower backs in. They were even closer than they’d been on the trapeze.

Seth closed his eyes at the first twitch of his cock against Lars’.

The reaction he had to it wasn’t embarrassment—he and Lars had already visited embarrassment and left it in their rear-view mirror a few miles back.

It was betrayal, something he’d often felt with his cock ever since it had first awoken from dormancy between his legs. Always getting hard at all the wrong times, short-circuiting the wires between his brain and the rest of his body. It was easy for women to hide what they were feeling. Hell, you had to stick a hand between their legs to really tell whether they were into it. They could fake pleasure or fake the lack of it. But Seth had no such shield. His cock pressed against the juncture of Lars’ thighs. And he couldn’t mistake it when Lars’ did the same against him, so that the shafts rubbed slightly against each other, though their cocks listed to the side as they found the path of least resistance to grow upward.

Both he and Lars sidled away, but Valorie pushed them back together again. She didn’t have to push too hard. That was what heated Seth’s cheeks once more against Lars’ rough scalp. His mind was fixed upon the sound of Lars’ harsher breaths in his ear and the puffs of air there, the movement of his cock against Seth’s thigh, and the heat and scent of Lars’ skin, drawing beads of sweat to Seth’s surface.

“Now listen to me. No, don’t move.”

Her voice had transformed from the sharpness of command to a bedroom purr. It only made Seth’s cock harder and his spinning head more confused. Lars stiffened, which brought Seth even closer.

Oh God. Lars moaned, a light sound but still undeniable. Seth’s heart raced. With his eyes closed, he could forget the rest of the ring until all that was left was himself, Lars and Valorie.

“I don’t know what you’re going to do to deal with this when the curtains close and you’re all alone. I don’t care. It doesn’t make any difference to me,” Valorie said.

Lars started to lift his head.

“No, not a word. Valorie’s talking. It also doesn’t make any difference to any of the cast. The only thing that matters is that you sell the performance. You’ll probably feel parts of your friend that you’d rather have forgotten were there. You’re going to have your faces in places you never thought your faces would be. Soon it’ll be second nature to you, and the perfectly natural reactions of your bodies will mean little more than the occasional muscle pull or cramp.”

Valorie slid her fingertips down their backs, toying at the waistline of their pants then a little farther, not quite on their asses but close.

“If I see one more display that suggests touching the other is going to be a problem, I’m going to make you kiss, and I assure you, I won’t be the only person in this ring who’ll find it quite appealing. If I were to walk up to Lady Sasha and press my body against hers, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Seth felt Lars’ chin against his shoulder as he nodded. Seth did too.

“Mmm, I thought you might,” Valorie murmured. “I won’t, because the Lady doesn’t interest me and because the sex demons aren’t allowed to touch, but you’d like it. You’d think it was hot. Well, when women see two men very close together, sometimes they like it too, even if they don’t think they’re allowed to. Me? I think there’s not much hotter than two well-built men rubbing oil all over their naked, hard bodies. That’s not what I’m asking of you… Unless that gets you hot too, in which case, be my guest.

“All I’m asking is for you to help Lord Mikhail render the women of the audience into puddles of lust from watching the intensely erotic image of your gleaming bodies showing off their strength together—and yes, the beauty and grace. It’ll be a lot like what I’ve brought to the aerial act, but with the added masculine edge that it needs and that I can’t provide. Before you, Arcanium didn’t have the right balance. That’s why Bell brought you in. Because you’re the men we need, and because you’ll make all the women watching swoon. If they see your erections through your pants, even better.

“‘But Valorie,’ you think, ‘so will the gay men.’ Yes. You’ll be watched and thoroughly enjoyed by the gay men who often frequent our audience, especially when a convention comes through. And if you’re enjoyed by gay men, how is that not gay, heaven forbid? Well, let me tell you, you are already appreciated by gay men. It’s the curse of being good-looking. Deal with it. Yes, they’ll be talking about you, thinking about you at night, wishing both of you were in their beds at once. But they were already doing that, and you never thought about it before. If doing it for the women makes you take this seriously, then keep that in your minds instead while we’re working.”

Valorie slid her hands down over their asses and squeezed. Seth was almost fully hard, and now he didn’t want to let go of Lars. Not just because the warmth of Lars’ body through both their trousers was heavenly against his cock. No, he didn’t want to let go because if he did, everyone would see how hard he was—and how hard Lars was.

Think about the women watching. Kitty, Joanne, Jane and Christina and maybe even Lady Sasha liked what they saw. After all, hadn’t Christina, Joanne and Jane expressed an ardent interest in watching Seth and Lars together? Now that Valorie had pointed it out, Seth doubted they’d planned to be entertained by the fumblings of acrobatic novices.

Seth had never thought about women liking to watch men together—any more than he’d ever thought about being with a man until Arcanium.

You learn something new every day. But sometimes a person didn’t want to learn. He would have been perfectly content never knowing the sensation of another man’s erection on his thigh or in his hand, never craving the taste of the skin just a few inches from his mouth.

He would have been perfectly happy. Women made him perfectly happy. So why did he have to learn that his desire extended beyond that and that he was no longer content? All because he could never not touch his best friend, who just wanted to get the touching out of the way if they had to touch like that at all.

It hurt far more than it should that for Lars it was nothing but a physical reaction, like Valorie had said. For Seth, the root of his desire seemed to reach deeper. And he hated it all the way to its core. Hated Bell. Hated Valorie. Hated Lars. Hated himself. But that didn’t make any difference.

“How about this for an incentive, gentlemen?” Valorie murmured, massaging their asses and bringing herself close to both men. The hard bud of her nipple teased Seth’s arm. “You do as I say. You learn the routine without complaint or needless fear. If you execute a perfect performance on Friday—and I know you can, since you’re perfectly capable men—if you make all the women wet from watching you, and the choreography goes off without a hitch…then I’ll invite you to my home for the night. You can do whatever you like with me, within reason. No strings. No commitment. No enslavement. No demanding you perform for me in the privacy of my bedroom. Just nice, old-fashioned fun after you’ve been all rubbed up and stimulated by Lady Sasha’s magic and need some decompression. Does that sound like a good deal to you?”

Lars nodded first. Once he’d nodded, Seth couldn’t not nod, no matter how low his stomach had dropped. It wasn’t that he didn’t want Valorie. He could hate Valorie and still want to bother those little nipples with his callused fingers until she squirmed, maybe see how far she could bend herself in two.

He just wondered whether he could handle watching Lars have sex without wanting Lars for himself.

Seth wasn’t sure his body was capable of staying upright, considering how hard his cock was. But miraculously, when Valorie slipped her hands between their abdomens and eased them apart again, he was able to stand straight in spite of the show the two men were giving their audience.

“All right then,” Valorie said. She didn’t hide that she was looking. Why should she? They were the two elephant trunks in the room, and she’d already indicated her proprietary interest. She smiled a cat’s pleased smile, so she must have seen something she liked. “Shall we begin?”

 

* * * *

 

They made it to Wednesday before cold showers and jerking off alone at night didn’t cut it anymore.

And the thing was, Lars might have been okay if Seth had broached the subject calmly and rationally, using his words like a goddamn adult.

In Seth’s defense, they’d both undergone three whole days of physical exertion mixed with physical stimulation as Valorie had showed them what their bodies already knew they could do—with a little help from Bell’s magic. Seth had to admit that some of the things they were doing were pretty sick. He was actually looking forward to Friday, and not just because of what Valorie had promised them in reward. He was looking forward to it the way he’d anticipated a soccer game against a worthy adversary, the same way he’d made bets on the World Cup and March Madness, with the same delicious tightness in his abdomen as when he’d left a club with his arm around a woman’s waist.

Neither Seth nor Lars were strangers to an audience. They knew from experience that it was easier to perform well with encouragement—nothing beat an audience for that. Once Seth had couched the aerial act in game terms after that grueling, embarrassing first rehearsal, he thought he saw it click in Lars’ eyes. The second rehearsal was better, the third sublime.

In normal reality, they would never have learned an act like that so quickly. They wouldn’t have been in perfect sync. Their bodies would have been protesting like a Westboro Baptist. Both he and Lars were in excellent shape already, but they were in excellent shape for soccer and endurance running, not full-bodied acrobatics and gymnastics that required strength and flexibility. It wasn’t like they’d ever taken a yoga or Pilates class.

After rehearsals, it kind of felt like they had. A yoga class in the air, which was cooler than it sounded. And they’d quickly lost their fear of falling when Valorie had shown how it was impossible. They could miss a beat and fall down each other’s bodies, but they never had to worry about broken bones. It was physically impossible for them to fall, in part because it was physically impossible for them to separate, but also because Bell’s magic ensured that if one of them slipped, the other wouldn’t.

Once they’d stopped being nervous about how far away the hard ground was, they were able to better appreciate the choreography Valorie had put together for them. It required close contact, contact that they had been tentative about executing, but as they’d promised, they did what they were told.

What helped was that it required real effort on their part. Bell’s magic didn’t take away the effort of it, just made them so good at it that it seemed effortless. Valorie hadn’t given them girly choreography like her own performances. Theirs had its homoerotic moments that Seth and Lars couldn’t avoid, but Seth told himself over and over what Valorie had said, that it would get the ladies hot, and he assumed Lars did the same. It wasn’t gay if it was for women. They were doing what insecure men wouldn’t, and their slowly building confidence would make them more desirable, if Valorie was to be believed. But most of the performance played to their masculine strength, as she’d promised them.

They had all kept their promises to each other, and that had kept the peace. Even Lars wasn’t snarking back as often as before.

Until they reached their RV Wednesday evening and Seth broke the unspoken promise he’d made with Lars.

They shed their practice pants in the aisle, preparing for a quick cold shower before dinner. It was easy to forget that the RV had working hot water.

They were hard as sculptures, their whole bodies tense from use and their erections tight against their stomachs. That was how rehearsals always ended. Seth hoped that wasn’t how all their performances would end. It was only a five-minute set, whereas rehearsals went on all morning and afternoon, so he thought it wouldn’t get quite this bad. Then again, Lady Sasha and Lord Mikhail would be in full force during an evening performance, so it was difficult to say.

As long as they could still perform—and they could—Valorie told them to ignore their erections as much as they could. The sultry way that some of the Arcanium women eyed them afterward assured them that Valorie was right about how their visible arousal would only make the performances more appealing.

As long as Bell enforced his policy of protection in case some assholes got the wrong idea, they could deal with it. It just meant that they had to go to their RV for those cold showers afterward to do the dealing with it.

But Seth could already tell a cold shower was going to do jack shit for the state of his erection, so thick and swollen hard with need that it barely twitched when he moved. The cold water might soothe the fever that he could feel on the skin of his abdomen, where his cock pressed against the thick, blond hair that traveled from his navel to his groin. But it wouldn’t soothe the savage beast, as it were.

He couldn’t stop looking at Lars as Lars removed his trousers. The lines and contours of his back where the muscles worked when he leaned over and shifted. The soft swell of his buttocks leading down to his thick, powerful fullback thighs and calves. He gleamed with sweat. Seth fought against the urge to move his hand down from Lars’ shoulder blade and over the length of that bent-over body, feeling its strength and digging his fingers in to loosen the tension it held. The valley of Lars’ vertebrae captivated him.

Seth recognized the warning signs. The way his mouth watered then went dry. The way his skin heated, his balls weighed heavy and the flesh of his abdomen crawled. The way fire seemed to sluice through his limbs and tingle in the aftermath. The sudden hunger that had nothing to do with food.

When Lars straightened, Seth slid his hand up to Lars’ shoulder, but gently. No way to confuse it for maintaining requisite contact—or balancing himself to undress, since he was already naked. He met Lars’ eyes and reached for Lars’ cock, which was leaving smears of pre-cum against his abdomen.

Lars clenched his teeth, but he nodded and looked down, which meant that he needed it as much as Seth did. Lars gamely responded in kind, smearing Seth’s own pre-cum over the head of Seth’s cock and down the shaft. They’d waited long enough to say that they’d tried to not touch each other this way.

Seth groaned helplessly, jerking his cock into the circle of Lars’ hand. His head fell forward against Lars’ shoulder. Maybe that would have been okay, especially with Seth twisting Lars’ erection the way he was, squeezing just a little too hard near the head as he stroked the edge of it and made Lars gasp.

But the smell of Lars’ skin—light sweat and sun and the flesh itself—called to him. All he did was obey. He turned his head and pressed his lips against Lars’ neck.

Lars froze and tightened his grip on Seth’s cock. A deep moan echoed in Seth’s ear again, like the one that Seth had heard when Valorie had forced them to embrace.

He kissed Lars’ smooth jaw then angled his mouth over Lars’ parted lips and kissed him as he wrung Lars’ cock. Seth felt like he’d melt when Lars opened his lips more to accept Seth’s tongue in his mouth so that Seth could taste that delicious little moan at its source. Lars bucked into Seth’s hand.

Seth let go of Lars’ shoulder to grasp the back of his head, drawing Lars closer, losing himself as the kiss went deeper, deeper, sometimes Lars taking his mouth and sometimes Seth pushing Lars against the kitchen counter and sinking into him as he frantically pulled at Lars’ cock. He was so awash in the sensation of kissing his best friend that he barely noticed when Lars let go of his erection, didn’t care. He heard the muffled sounds of protest, but Lars was still kissing him anyway, so he didn’t take them seriously. He couldn’t think about what he was doing, because it was too good, the pleasure too sweet, and if he thought about it…

Lars wrenched his mouth away, gasping, his erection a throbbing, desperate hot iron in Seth’s palm. Then he slugged Seth’s cheek. And it wasn’t a weak just-get-off-me punch. Seth blacked out, long enough to be standing then falling with no memory in between. But Lars shouted when Seth tightened his grip on Lars’ cock to hold on—yeah, Lars hadn’t thought that one through—and had to follow Seth down to keep from serious damage.

They collapsed into the aisle. The jarring of his body on the plastic floor made Seth release Lars’ erection, but Lars also fell onto Seth’s bent knee, which knocked the wind out of him. Not long enough, though. Seth tried to scramble up, but Lars shoved Seth down again by the chest. The same mouth that Seth had been kissing—oh God, he’d just kissed him, what the hell had he been thinking?—had contorted into a Samurai grimace of fury, but his brow was drawn in an almost innocent confusion. It was hard to sympathize with that confusion, though, when Lars brought his hand up and punched Seth’s face again.

This time Seth had seen it coming, and he lunged at Lars, striking his fist against Lars’ forehead, although not nearly as hard as Lars had hit him. Lars slammed into the cabinet under the sink. They both stumbled to their feet, which was harder than it should have been because both were trying to pull themselves apart to get distance and regroup, but their skin kept sticking together in all the most inconvenient places. Lars got an elbow to the jaw, and Seth almost got groined by Lars’ knee.

They both stepped on each other’s feet and hit the wardrobe and the counter on either side of them before Lars grabbed Seth’s neck and pulled him into another punch. The punch was partially thwarted when Seth threw his hands in front of him to push Lars away, but it still glanced over the place where his cheekbone was already swelling. Lars’ fingernails scratched Seth’s knuckles.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Lars shouted. “I ain’t no homo, you queer!”

“I didn’t mean—” Seth said. But he didn’t know what he wanted to say. That he hadn’t meant to kiss him? Because he obviously had. He couldn’t say, ‘Oh, I slipped and fell on your mouth and was trying to make it hurt less by licking?’

Seth just hadn’t known he was going to do it until he’d done it, like rubbing Lars off in the audience. Apparently, that was okay but kissing was crossing the line?

It wasn’t that straightforward, and Seth knew it. Lars could see jerking him off as a physical aid, servicing a need they had no control over. Kissing wasn’t necessary. It did nothing to serve the objective of orgasm. Kissing was optional, and therefore in the shady realm of gay—thus, not allowed.

But Lars had kissed back. Seth hadn’t leaned in to give in to his baser instincts only to have Lars clock him one for the attempt. It hadn’t just been Seth kissing Lars. They had been kissing.

So it was no wonder Lars punched Seth’s mouth again before Seth could try to make up an excuse that didn’t exist.

Seth reeled back. He tasted blood where his gums had been smashed into his teeth. Lars was pulled along with him, his fist trapped against Seth’s mouth until they fell onto the floor again in front of the small sofa. Their legs tangled this time. When Seth or Lars tried to get up, it only thrust their hips against the other, their still rigid cocks rubbing together. Lars’ scrotum slapped heavily against Seth’s.

“Fucking gay bastard,” Lars hissed through clenched teeth. He socked his fist into Seth’s side, bruising some ribs, while Seth hit the heel of his palm against Lars’ right ear then rolled him to the side, pinning him against the baseboard of the sofa.

The intent had been to get Lars off him so that his weight didn’t hold Seth down. Instead, he found his body pressed against Lars’ on a more equal footing, although Lars didn’t have any room to escape. Their hips moved involuntarily, their cocks ecstatic by the frottage in spite of their anger. Pinning Lars against the side of the aisle only made it easier to bring their erections together, with something solid behind Lars giving resistance.

And Lars’ head fell back, hitting the wall, the cords of his neck tense as he groaned, the sound almost like a defeat.

“I’m not—” Again, Seth didn’t know what he was supposed to say. That he wasn’t gay? That he wasn’t trying to do this? That he didn’t want this? There wasn’t enough of him that didn’t want this for him to say it honestly.

“Shut up!” Lars said, his eyes flying open.

He shoved until he was on top of Seth again. He pulled his fist back to land another punch on Seth’s face.

Seth didn’t know what Lars saw. Maybe the places where he’d already hit Seth were swollen enough to make him look pathetic. Or maybe Lars realized he wasn’t punching the one he really wanted to hit.

The hand grasping the back of Seth’s neck tightened, and Lars shifted back on Seth’s thighs to help Seth sit up, as though he was going to grudgingly help Seth stand.

But then Lars didn’t let go of him. He tightened and released his hand on Seth’s neck. Like a firm massage. But that couldn’t be, not with the fury with which Lars was looking at Seth’s mouth—as though it had betrayed him as much as Seth’s body often betrayed itself on a regular basis these days. Seth thought Lars was going to hit him again, this time a knockout.

Instead, Lars yanked Seth to him and mashed their mouths together in a brutal kiss, harsh, especially with Seth’s blood smearing across their lips and tongues. Lars bit at his lower lip, sucking it into his mouth and digging his teeth in where Seth’s mouth stung.

But Seth moaned anyway, gasping for air and wrapping his arm around Lars’ waist to bring their hips together. Lars needed no urging, his cock eager for the heat of Seth’s again, their pre-cum mixing and lubricating where they’d trapped their erections between their abdomens. They thrust at each other like they were fucking, vying for dominance with their tongues and teeth.

Lars had the upper hand, those strong thighs straddling Seth’s hips and pinning him to the floor, but Seth took over the kiss now that Lars had given in. He didn’t question why. As long as Lars wasn’t fighting him anymore—or as long as their battle was of the more productive kind—there was no room to question. Seth needed to come, needed Lars to make him come, needed to make Lars come with him.

Their skin was slippery with sweat, their hands leaving bruises of a different kind on their bodies. Seth bit Lars’ lower lip, bit his jaw hard enough to make Lars flinch, then kissed that stretch of neck that had seduced him to begin with. And somehow that was even better, because Lars wasn’t limiting himself to low, unwilling moans now. His cries resonated through every cheap surface of the RV as he lost control of his hips and his spunk struck Seth’s chest and stomach. Lars reached between them to grasp both their cocks in his hand, using his cum to cream Seth’s cock.

Seth bit the base of Lars’ neck, leaving deep impressions on the flesh but not breaking the skin, as he climaxed so strongly that his hips came off the floor even with Lars still on him. He fell back during the last strokes, lying on the floor. He moaned through the last of his spurts.

Lars released them and slammed his hands on either side of Seth, leaving a semen-stained handprint on the floor.

“God-fucking-dammit,” Lars said, his throat so tight he sounded like he was going to cry. “Why’d you have to do that?”

“Why’d I have to? Last time I checked you were right along the ride with me,” Seth said. “Until you started beating me up anyway—and after. Don’t you pin this on me.”

He angrily shoved Lars from where he loomed over him. Lars was more than happy to be shoved away. Their legs overlapped at the calves, but it was good to finally get even a nominal bit of distance as sweat and semen cooled on their skin. Seth grabbed for some napkins on the counter, threw a few at Lars then used the rest to wipe off his cock and his chest.

Lars lay down in the aisle and pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Is this going to be our life? Those damn demons pushing us further and further? God fuck, we’re not gay. What is this shit?”

“I think it’s time we talked about this,” Seth said.

“You think?”

“Don’t give me that. You never wanted to talk about it before. Neither did I. But I think we need to talk about it now.”

“Fine,” Lars said, wiping himself off without looking at where he and Seth had made the mess, nor looking at Seth, as though if he didn’t see it, then it wasn’t real—just another part of the nightmare.

“Did you want it?” Seth asked.

“I’m not fucking queer. How many times do I need to say it? Maybe you are and you’ve just been in denial until now, but that doesn’t mean I am.”

“I’m not saying you are. I’m not saying I am,” Seth said. “You’re the one who said it was the sex demons doing this to us. Would you have ever done any of this—what we did here, what we do in the dark—if it hadn’t been for the incubus and succubus making us walk in a cloud of lust magic all the time?”

“Fuck no.”

“Well, neither would I,” Seth snapped. “And you were the one who said we just need to take care of business when it gets too hard not to.” No pun intended.

“That was when we were just jerking each other off,” Lars said. “If that’s all we’re doing, it’s like what we do to ourselves anyway. We can just pretend it’s our own hands.”

“But it was the demons that made us want to do it,” Seth said. “Made us need to have someone else do it for us, made it not enough to do it ourselves, even though we’d rather just take care of it ourselves. Right?”

“Right.”

“Did you want me to kiss you? Did you want to kiss me?” Seth asked. “No, look at me, Lars. You’re not pinning this on me. I’m not gay. I think our record bears that out. But did you want it?”

Lars propped himself up on his elbows. Seth couldn’t help but notice how the deceptively casual slouch set off the planes of his chest and abdomen. He would have thought his awareness of Lars’ body would dissipate after coming, but to his secret dismay, it hadn’t. He doubted if Lars was as captivated with the freckles on Seth’s shoulders as Seth was with Lars’ nipples, small and tight and even darker than the rest of his skin, surrounded with a light dusting of black hair. Seth forced himself not to let his gaze linger. He had to focus. For five seconds, he had to not be gay enough for Lars to notice.

“Yeah. No. God, I don’t know.”

“Well, I think the shiners you gave me are a testament to the fact you didn’t want to want it. I didn’t either. Did you want it anyway?” Seth asked.

“Yeah.” Lars lowered his head, his chin touching his chest, but he forced himself to meet Seth’s eyes again. He knew what Seth was getting at. Neither of them wanted to talk about it, but if Seth was going to avoid getting slugged again, they had to get some communication over with.

“Like you were pulled in?” Seth asked.

“Seth, why’re you drawing this out?”

“Answer the damn question, Lars!”

“Yes. Is that what you wanted to hear? Yes, it was like I couldn’t help myself. I wanted it so badly. And the magic makes it feel even better than anything on the outside.”

“Exactly,” Seth said. “Same with me. You don’t have to beat me to a bloody pulp for that again.”

“Look, dude, I’m sorry. You just kind of freaked me out.”

And you freaked yourself out. And I freaked myself out. Welcome to the fucking freak show.

“So we couldn’t help it. The magic makes us want it so bad we can’t help ourselves,” Seth said. “As long as we know it’s magic, what’s the harm in just letting it happen when we have to? This is our RV. We can be who we really are out there with the others, and in here we can get rid of what the magic changes us into. No one else has to see. No one else has to know. It’s not like we’d tell them.”

“Hell no,” Lars muttered. “But come on, Seth. This is so gay. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with being gay, but we’re not. So we shouldn’t be doing this. We should be fighting against it, not letting the demons win.”

“How’s that working for you?” Seth said dryly.

“Fuck you and your mother.”

“They’re more powerful than us.”

“Not if we have God on our side,” Lars said. “Can’t we, like, exorcise them in Jesus’ name or something?”

“Let me know how that goes,” Seth said.

“I find your lack of faith disturbing. Always have.” But Lars didn’t look much more faithful. If Seth had to guess, Lars had already tried that.

“I’m just trying to get by. All we need to do is get by so we can get out of here sooner. And it’s not as bad as we thought with Valorie and the choreography, is it? And the others—the twins, even Kitty?”

Lars shrugged.

“Look, it’s all the same when you close your eyes,” Seth said. “Would that make you feel better? If we just closed our eyes and let it happen when we’re alone. All we have to do is pretend it’s a woman doing it.”

“It’s not the same,” Lars said.

“Yes, it is,” Seth insisted. “Close your eyes.”

“No.”

“The magic’s not finished with us. It’s not like we can hide it.”

“This is so fucking humiliating,” Lars said through clenched teeth. He fell back against the floor, his cock twitching against his thigh, more swollen than it had been a few minutes ago, as though Seth talking about them doing this in secret had sounded far more attractive to his anatomy than it did to his brain.

Seth crawled over. He couldn’t flinch, couldn’t show disgust with himself for wanting this. He needed to be the confident one. He needed to take charge like he knew he could in the bedroom. He had to follow the same instincts.

Like he’s a woman.

But Lars wasn’t a woman. And Seth didn’t want him the way he’d want a woman, which blew the whole proposition out of the water.

Lars didn’t need to know that, though. They just needed to fool themselves enough to get out of here with what was left of their dignity—and hides—intact. Clearly, the dictum against violence didn’t extend to two people who were stuck with each other, because the Ringmaster hadn’t barged in with whip a-cracking to break up the fight.

Seth didn’t think Bell would let the two of them kill each other, but he had a nasty gut feeling that Bell enjoyed watching the two men squirm and beat each other up because of the curse. He wouldn’t be surprised if that little imp was playing voyeur right now.

Getting your money’s worth? he asked the jinni with unfettered hatred. If Bell was watching and listening, he didn’t answer.

“Just imagine it’s a woman doing it,” Seth whispered. If he whispered, Lars wouldn’t have to hear the tone of his voice. “Ignore the rest.”

He poised himself above Lars’ body, his own softened cock hardening with surprising speed at having Lars beneath him. He wanted to stroke that matte brown skin, taste the salt of his dried sweat, watch Lars writhe under his touch. None of that had anything to do with pretending Lars was a woman. It was impossible to look at him and pretend that. Lars was as far from a woman as a man could get. When Seth looked at him, he didn’t wish Lars had breasts, softer lips, curvier hips and a pussy that he could screw. Seth just wanted him.

He lowered his mouth to Lars’. He kissed Lars like a prince, the way he would kiss someone he’d only just met, tentatively, to make sure that Lars didn’t find it awful in the aftermath.

Seth touched Lars’ cheek lightly with the tips of his fingers. No mistaking the line of Lars’ jaw and the sandpaper sensation where he hadn’t shaved well. But Seth angled his head to kiss closer, their lips still closed but their breath mingling between them when Seth would pull back between kisses.

He knew his suggestion had broken through the first layer of Lars’ resistance when Seth felt Lars’ hands brushing his sides, his stomach, up his chest. Seth couldn’t spontaneously grow breasts for Lars either, but Lars’ imagination must have been able to fill in the blanks, so to speak. The rough calluses on Lars’ hands tormented Seth’s nipples, which sometimes seemed more sensitive than those of the women he slept with.

Seth dipped down and dragged his thickening cock against the V-line of Lars’ hip.

Lars slid his hands up Seth’s neck to his face, and he groaned as Seth slipped his tongue in again. Seth wondered who Lars imagined was above him, who he wished was really there as he kissed Seth back.

His desire wasn’t the insistent thing it had been before, unable to take no for an answer. Now that it had been sated once, it could take its time satisfying itself once more. It wanted to take its time. It wanted to lower Seth’s body down to cover Lars completely as Seth’s kiss went deeper.

It didn’t take long for their hips to begin a helpless rhythm, their cocks burdened with none of the fear and shame that their heads had briefly set aside in the wake of the increasing passion of the kiss.

Seth wondered how far he could take this, whether he could take it as far as he lusted for without Lars putting him in a coma for it.

He had no desire to fuck Lars in the ass, none at all, which was a fucking relief in the midst of all the other things he wanted to do. And there was no way Seth was going to let Lars’ dick anywhere near his ass either. The very idea of both of those was actively distasteful to him.

But there was another line Seth needed to cross. As long as they were breaking friendly boundaries into tiny, sharp, painful ruins, he might as well cross it now instead of later.

He grabbed Lars’ chin between forceful fingers, pushing Lars’ face to the side so that he could run his tongue along Lars’ neck.

“Fuck,” Lars said, arching up and running his hand through Seth’s hair as though he were a short-haired girl. He repeated the curse when Seth bit him, not quite as hard as when Seth had come. Those marks were still on Lars’ shoulder, and Seth traced them with the tip of his tongue before moving down Lars’ chest.

He moistened Lars’ abdomen with his open-mouthed kisses, tasting salt and wishing for tequila to have something to blame. Seth was half afraid that Lars would grab his hair and yank him away in indignation and revulsion, but Lars’ moan rolled almost into a growl as he pushed Seth down farther. The head of Lars’ cock bluntly hit Seth’s chin when Lars’ hips jerked up again.

Seth wasn’t sure whether he believed in hell—demons notwithstanding—but now he knew he was going to it for what he was about to do.

His mouth watered anyway, and he could no longer restrain his own moan as he moved back and, steadying Lars with his fingers in a circle around the base, took the head in his mouth. He slathered it with his tongue, drinking the thin threads of pre-cum that oozed out to meet him.

He tried to remember all the times that women had given him blow jobs, the best ones that stood out in his mind. It wasn’t like Seth had given one before, not even that time he’d been dared to on a dildo when a bachelor party he’d been a part of had crossed paths with a bachelorette party. But he drew upon what he knew he liked and kept the suction light as he stroked the shaft with a masturbatory grip.

“Oh fuck yes,” Lars moaned. His eyes were still closed.

Seth couldn’t close his own eyes, because he’d miss the way Lars’ torso undulated each time arousal hit him just before he tried to thrust up into Seth’s mouth. Seth’s weight on his thighs and hips held him down, and Lars restrained himself a little too. He’d probably had experience holding back when women did this to him.

Seth felt absurdly competitive with those past women. He’d had less than a handful of blow jobs that he’d call terrible. Most of them got the job done and as long as they did, they were decent in his book. But Seth didn’t want Lars to think he was just tolerable. If he was going to do this, he was going to be good, damn it.

He sucked up off the head of Lars’ cock and stared intently at it as another drop of pre-cum trickled to mingle with Seth’s saliva. Seth leaned in to lick its trail to the edge of the slick, uncut head. Then he mouthed along the underside. The purple vein pulsed strongly against his tongue. Lars’ loud groan went straight down Seth’s spine, making him as hard as he had ever been.

Seth sucked noisily at the base where the skin was looser just above the scrotum. He breathed in Lars’ scent, even stronger here, the spice of Lars’ musk almost too powerful but intoxicating in spite of it. He took one testicle into his mouth, sucking and gently tugging then moved to the other side. If Seth’s mouth had been big enough, he would have tried to take the whole sac in his mouth.

He’d have to content himself with the rigid organ right above him, delightfully big and heavy against his tongue as he worked his way up again to take Lars’ erection back into his mouth. This time, it wasn’t about tasting and teasing. Seth lifted his hips up to reach for his own cock as he bobbed over the one in his mouth. Not fast yet, but steady and forceful. He knew he didn’t have to be careful, knew that Lars’ cock could take it as far as Seth’s could.

“Yes, yes, yes, oh fuck, so fucking good,” Lars let loose in a litany of encouragement.

That and the thick cock filling his mouth over and over was enough for Seth to spill over, his spunk making a thick puddle in the aisle between Lars’ legs. His shouts were muffled by Lars’ pushing to the back of his mouth from the vibrations of them.

Seth shoved Lars back down and jerked the shaft he held in his fist. He focused all the suction on the head, pressing his tongue against the slit at the tip. Lars clutched his forehead as he lost all control and came over Seth’s tongue.

Seth was surprised by his own eagerness to drink Lars’ cum down. Sure, it had kind of bothered him whenever women had left the room to spit—it harshed the satisfaction of the climax for the girl to just walk away. But he hadn’t forced them to swallow and hadn’t expected he’d want to. But he swallowed every drop and fucking liked it, wished he could have more.

If Lars got his wits back about him and decided he was still okay with what Seth had done, maybe he could have more, Seth mused. His whole body responded to the thought in an excruciating mix of anticipation, enthusiasm and shame.

There was definitely something wrong with him. The worst thing was that he’d fed this monster. Now he was afraid he was going to have to keep feeding it for the rest of their captivity.

And perhaps after.

“Got it, got it,” Lars said, easing Seth off his cock when Seth wouldn’t stop sucking at him to get as much cum out as he could. “Already came once, for God’s sake. Too much.”

Seth wiped his mouth and sat up, leaning against the kitchen cabinet. He stared at his knees, framed with Lars’ dark legs on either side of him.

“How does doing that feel like being with a woman?” Lars asked, panting heavily. But he ran a hand over his chest in contentment. Seth had given him his solution.

It was easier for him to pretend that a woman was giving him a blow job than for Seth to imagine he was giving one to a woman. Some women liked strap-ons and men giving them blow jobs on those, but he’d never been with any of those women. But Seth also couldn’t tell Lars that he hadn’t even tried to imagine that Lars was anything other than what he was.

This was the peace, the détente, the compromise that Seth had sought in the first place. He wasn’t going to do anything to disrupt it.

“I guess my imagination is better than yours. The chicks certainly never complained,” Seth said. It wasn’t entirely a lie. A man could pretend another man’s genitals were a woman’s instead. It took some real mental gymnastics, but it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. Seth’s exhausted cock gave a happy little movement at the idea that Lars might be able to play that kind of pretend on it too. Seth glared at his penis. Hadn’t it done enough damage?

He idly wondered whether eunuchs were a happier lot.

“Neither do I,” Lars said. His eyes were still closed. The easier to keep the fantasy going, Seth guessed.

“I’m getting the shower first,” Seth said.

He felt numb. His cock was finished for the night, but he was unsatisfied—unsatisfied that Lars wasn’t satisfied because of Seth, only because of whoever he had substituted Seth for in his head.

But Seth had to content himself with what they had. He couldn’t tell Lars that he was feeling rejected. They weren’t partners. They weren’t lovers. They were two straight men in unusual circumstances making the best of a bad situation. Seth had no right to be hurt, shouldn’t have been hurt at all.

A week ago, he would have sworn on a Bible that he was straight. No questions, no questioning. But it seemed this was the cruel joke of the whole curse, even though Seth wasn’t sure whether Bell had done this part of it to him—that because he’d made the wish, he truly wanted Lars to stick with him, while Lars just had to.

Every minute they were together, every second, even when they were touching like lovers, Seth had to live with that now.