“GOOD-BYE, ROWEN. I’m sure you’ll do great.” Elise was always kind.
“Fare you well,” Sharon had said. “Perhaps I will visit you one day when I finish my studies.” He hoped he would see Sharon too.
The green canopy of the island stretched overhead as Rowen began to dig. It felt natural to have a shovel in his hand, setting up holes and driving in the stakes that would eventually mount the foundation of a wooden house. He had missed physical labor. And there was no reason to wait to begin making life comfortable for himself and Kristoff.
He still couldn’t believe Kristoff had come with him. His mentor was back on the Storm Lords’ island now, doing the work he needed to do, but would return soon. Rowen planned to have made good progress on what would be their house. Tomorrow he also wanted to make a water basin to collect any rain that might fall, especially if his magic truly did begin to call heat spells.
Rowen’s energy faltered, the shovel biting dirt and stopping, Volkes’s good-bye echoing in his mind.
“Watch your damn magic. If legends are right, you’ll have to or die.”
“Don’t be mean, Volkes!” Elise had shouted.
“It’s true, though.” Volkes rubbed his hand, the hand Rowen had once burned. “I’ve heard the talk. He’s a heatcaller. He’ll bring in heat spells, destroy wherever he ends up, or burn himself alive. It’s how they all end in the stories.”
“That’s not true!” Elise shouted. “He has Kristoff to help! Don’t you, Rowen?”
Rowen wiped his forehead, lifting the shovel again. He had Kristoff. That made all the difference. He had to trust his mentor. His face reddened when he thought of the kiss they had shared before they had gone back to the island to determine their future, together.
As he thought it, a gust of wind ruffled his hair, sending the leaves of the trees around him rustling. A spattering of rain hit his forehead, and a smile crept over his face as Kristoff landed a few feet away.
“Whoa.” Kristoff put a hand on one of the posts Rowen had set. “You did all this already?”
Rowen nodded, leaning the shovel against a tree and standing tall. He moved a hand out, indicating the four corners.
“That’ll be a big house,” Kristoff said. He stepped closer. “You know how to build?”
Rowen shrugged, then nodded. He knew the basics. For now, the cave would do. They had years, after all.
“I’m glad.” Kristoff put an arm around him, and Rowen returned the gesture. They hadn’t had a chance to be like this since that first kiss, too busy with preparations. Now they were alone, starting new lives, not exhausted from good-byes and flights, and Rowen’s heart pounded. His fantasies since meeting Kristoff replayed in his mind, but this was reality, not fantasy, and he didn’t know what to do. Kristoff wasn’t Volkes, to simply take what he wanted, and the equality made it both more exciting and more confusing.
“I’ll have to leave soon to dispel a heat spell,” Kristoff said, and disappointment tightened Rowen’s chest. “But for now I have time.”
Kristoff stroked Rowen’s face, but so lightly Rowen could barely feel it, the merest guidance. Rowen turned his head, and Kristoff’s lips met his. Disappointment melted away.
Kristoff broke the kiss after a few moments. “Rowen….” His voice was breathy. “If we do this, I’m not your mentor. I’m just… a partner. I don’t want you to think you owe me or anything like that. I’m here by choice, with you, not by obligation. I just… I just want to make sure this is okay.”
Rowen tilted his head. Kristoff’s brow was furrowed, his eyes big and worried. Rowen almost laughed. He was so different from Volkes, and Rowen loved it.
For now, he could lead. Rowen caught Kristoff’s lips again, deepening the kiss, and moved his hands over the man’s shoulders and down to his hips.
“Oh, Rowen,” Kristoff breathed when Rowen’s hands moved lower. “I-I have to work. There’s a heat spell in Pearlen….”
Rowen kept stroking him, moving his hands down with purpose, feeling the other man’s rising bulge beneath his hands. He quirked his lips into a pleased smile.
Kristoff’s face grew red, and he let out a shuddering breath. “I want to….” He swallowed. “To go further, Rowen. Is that okay?”
A grin stole over Rowen’s face, and he answered by kissing Kristoff again. He pressed against Kristoff’s body, the firmness of it clearing Rowen’s mind even as he called up his first memory of Kristoff, of the beautiful man with blue eyes and brown hair, reaching for him from within a storm.
Now that man was his.
Kristoff’s lips were hot and soft, and when he opened his mouth, it was tentative, light. But heat soon took over. Their breathing mingled, the sound of it the only thing Rowen could hear. He nibbled on Kristoff’s lips, then licked them, guiding Kristoff to do the same. Soon Rowen let Kristoff explore his mouth with his tongue, relishing the feeling. Kristoff’s hands found their way back around Rowen’s waist, the careful touch tantalizing, and Rowen repaid the favor with firm strokes over Kristoff’s thighs and his taut rear. Muscles tightened beneath his hands, sending Kristoff’s erection brushing against Rowen’s.
“Oh, Rowen,” Kristoff said, breaking the kiss, his breath rushing over Rowen’s shoulders. “I’ve wanted you for a while. I want you right now.” His face reddened when he said it, and he dropped his gaze.
Rowen took Kristoff’s hand, holding it up and looking into his eyes. Rowen nodded. He wanted the same, had wanted the same for a long time, and he hoped Kristoff understood. Ideas flitted through his mind. Volkes had shown him some things, but with Kristoff, he wanted things to be different. Everything they did, they would do together.
He pulled Kristoff closer, taking his hand and slowly licking Kristoff’s fingers, then sucked on one, keeping his gaze fixed on the other man. Then he cast his eyes down and cupped Kristoff’s bulge.
Kristoff’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “Are you sure…. Yes, Rowen.”
Rowen let his mouth water as he knelt down on the soft ground, so different from the harsh hot sand he had grown up with. With quick fingers, he unlaced the ties on Kristoff’s pants, revealing his prize.
“Rowen….” Kristoff moaned as Rowen touched his erection, investigating it with his fingers. It was beautiful, long and thick. It would feel good in his mouth.
He licked it first, then put his mouth around it, Kristoff’s gasps music to his ears. Volkes had liked this too, but he would make sure Kristoff liked it even more.
He waited a moment at first, sure that Kristoff would start thrusting in his throat the way Volkes had. But he didn’t, merely breathing, his quiet voice saying Rowen’s name.
When Rowen was allowed to lead, moving his head and licking, taking Kristoff all the way down his throat on his own terms, it was even better than he could have imagined. He pulled with his lips, listening to Kristoff’s gasps and moans, guiding the movements of his head and mouth to make sure each thing he tried was better than the last.
Suddenly Kristoff pulled away, Rowen holding his mouth open in confusion. When he looked up, Kristoff smiled down at him, his face and neck flushed red.
“Not yet, Rowen. Don’t you want a turn?”
Volkes hadn’t done that. But this was Kristoff. Rowen nodded. He stayed still when Kristoff knelt down next to him in the grass, not sure what to do.
“Lie back, Rowen. It feels good this way.” Rowen leaned back on his hands, spreading his legs when Kristoff touched him, unlacing Rowen’s pants.
His fingers coaxed Rowen to full hardness in moments, Rowen gasping. Then Rowen’s heart leapt, his body tensing, as Kristoff returned the favor Rowen had just given.
It felt so good. Nothing Volkes had done, harsh strokes with his hands or rubbing his body against his so hard that the bed shook, could compare to the sensation of Kristoff’s mouth on his cock. Rowen’s toes curled, his eyes rolling back, heat kindling in his entire body like a soaring flame. He breathed in short pants, each pull of Kristoff’s lips overwhelming pleasure. He looked at the trees overhead, spreading his legs wider, unable to process anything other than the sensations that were coming directly from his aching erection.
Then Kristoff hummed, his voice making Rowen shake, the heat suddenly a rushing, burning need that threatened to spill. He wouldn’t last, and he put a hand on Kristoff’s shoulder.
Kristoff let him go, necessary but agonizing. Rowen gasped, and then Kristoff was by his side, leaning next to him on the grass. They kissed again, more frenzied this time, and their hands were on each other’s bodies, removing each other’s clothes, revealing themselves to each other.
“You’re gorgeous, Rowen,” Kristoff said, and Rowen huffed a silent laugh. He pointed to Kristoff, who just smiled back, his eyes half-lidded. “I really want you, right now. Are you ready?”
Rowen nodded, but he was surprised when Kristoff guided him closer so that Rowen was the one leaning over him, Kristoff lying on his back in the grass, legs spread. Kristoff stroked himself, then Rowen, causing more heat to build in Rowen’s core.
“Do you know what to do?” Kristoff asked.
When it was Volkes, he had just entered Rowen hard, the pleasure mingling with pain. But he didn’t want to do that to Kristoff. Rowen shook his head, even as the thought of entering Kristoff, of feeling his gorgeous, powerful mentor from the inside, made his erection throb with need.
Kristoff smiled. “That’s all right. Give me a moment. I’ll show you.” Rowen sat back as Kristoff got up, heading into the cave they both shared. Kristoff grinned when he returned, holding a small vial, his erection bobbing as he walked.
“I figured we may need this eventually,” he said with a grin. Rowen tilted his head, raising one eyebrow.
“Volkes didn’t use this?” Kristoff frowned when Rowen nodded.
“Come here, then,” Kristoff said, and Rowen strode forward, letting Kristoff pull him into another deep kiss that chased away any memory of Volkes. Then he shuddered, gasping when Kristoff began stroking him, slicking him with oil as he did.
“This will make it feel really good,” Kristoff whispered, his voice sending shivers down Rowen’s spine. “I want you inside me, Rowen.”
Rowen nodded, his breathing coming in fast pants. He put a hand on Kristoff’s shoulder, and Kristoff knelt down, lying once again with his back on the soft grass. He held the vial in one hand, and while Rowen watched, he put some inside himself, scissoring with his fingers, the sight maddening and making Rowen agonizingly hard.
“Do you want me too, Rowen?” Kristoff asked, his voice soft.
Instead of nodding, Rowen leaned down and kissed him. Kristoff spread his legs, inviting.
When Rowen entered him, his world narrowed, focusing on two things—how good he felt, and how good Kristoff must feel, his mentor squeezing his eyes shut and throwing his head back with a moan of pleasure.
“Yes, Rowen,” Kristoff said, moving his hips, driving Rowen in deeper. “Yes.”
If Rowen could speak, he would have said the same. He began to move, every bit of friction on his cock made even better by the sight of Kristoff below him, his body jolting with every powerful thrust. Kristoff smiled, and when he opened his eyes, Rowen couldn’t look away. Kristoff’s hands moved on to Rowen’s shoulders, then over his nipples, and Rowen breathed deep against the rush of pleasure.
This was every fantasy he had ever had. Ecstasy rebounded in his body, reflected in Kristoff’s expressions and moans. It was just the two of them, the only two people on the entire island, and Rowen’s world suddenly felt both enormous and small, everything he had experienced in the past few weeks contained within sex with the man who had saved his life. All he wanted in that moment was to make Kristoff feel good.
He thrust deep, muscles in his shoulders and back bunching as he gave Kristoff what he had been asking for. Kristoff spread his legs wide, his smile never leaving his face even as his eyes began to glaze over, his enjoyment obvious in his quick breaths and half-begun words. Rowen dug his hand into the grass beside Kristoff’s head, angling and thrusting at the spot that made Kristoff moan the loudest and shudder the most.
Rowen fought to keep his eyes open, his heart pounding and his chest heaving with a combination of effort and his own looming orgasm. The sun shone down through the trees, warm and not burning the way it would have in Rowen’s desert home, illuminating the sheen of sweat on Kristoff’s body.
“R-Rowen….” Kristoff managed, and he moved his hand, stroking himself as Rowen thrust. Rowen got the message, moving Kristoff’s hand away and stroking Kristoff in time with his own thrusts. Kristoff tightened around him, moaning Rowen’s name, and Rowen stroked him faster, snapping his hips. Kristoff’s expression was slack with pleasure, but he still met Rowen’s gaze with a look of utter trust, desire, and love.
This was what Rowen had dreamed of. He had wanted to be a Storm Lord, to start life over and save the world with power he now knew he didn’t have. But being like this with Kristoff made all the hardships he had faced feel worth it.
“Oh….” Kristoff shuddered as he spoke the name “Rowen,” and he pulsed in Rowen’s hand and tightened hard around Rowen’s erection, cum surging over his chest. Rowen’s own pleasure answered at the sight, and his body shook, ecstasy overflowing and spilling into Kristoff. He gasped as he came, the pleasure overwhelming, and afterward he lay wrung out and panting next to Kristoff.
They lay together on the grass for a time, the cool air of the sea washing over them. Kristoff stroked Rowen’s hair, a smile on his face, and Rowen smiled back. They didn’t need words. Clouds scudded across a blue sky. Later, Rowen knew, Kristoff would take those clouds and shape them into a storm, saving the world a little bit at a time. And then he would come back here, to Rowen.
Life could always start anew. Whether Kristoff had been aware of the lesson or not, that was the first thing Kristoff had taught him. Rowen would always show him how grateful he was.
LATER, ROWEN lay in the cave next to Kristoff, the other man asleep, his hair mussed and the gray stone on his necklace rising and falling with his breaths. The sun reflected on the cave wall from outside, and Rowen estimated it was likely just past noon. He wondered if all the travel made Kristoff tired. It had to be hard work summoning storms to fly.
Rowen wished he could let him keep sleeping, but as much as he wanted Kristoff to stay, Kristoff had to work, and Rowen had his own work to do as well. He had left the shovel out in the open, too distracted by making love with Kristoff. While he hadn’t seen any larger animals, common sense told him to take better care of his tools. His father would have been displeased had he done something like that in the village.
The thought of home didn’t make him as sad as it usually did. Maybe because there was so much to do to make this place feel like home now.
And it wasn’t only that. Rowen sat up, crossing his legs. He had his own powers to work on—if he could control them, he would make Kristoff’s life easier. Rowen wanted to survive, and the desire to help, to save his village, still burned in his chest, even though he knew it was impossible. He couldn’t get rid of the hope he had when he had first met Kristoff—the hope that he could become a Storm Lord and save people who would otherwise die in heat spells.
He closed his eyes. The Storm Lords feared heat spells. But with the little he had learned, they weren’t anything to be feared. They were just more air, stagnant, unmoving air that heated in the sun.
He could call them if he tried. Kristoff had said there was one in Pearlen. Rowen wished he could see Pearlen. He had heard of it many times, and he knew Kristoff was from there, from a shining city full of people.
He hoped they weren’t suffering in the heat spell. Maybe he should wake Kristoff.
A breeze blew in through the mouth of the cave, sending a leaf fluttering inside. It spun in a lazy circle before settling to the ground.
Rowen narrowed his eyes. Back home, the heat spells always stayed in one place until a storm came through, dispersing them. The heat spell Kristoff had dispelled on the Storm Lords’ island had been thrown into the air, dispersed, and cooled in the violent storm. Away from the island, it had been harmless, like the heat of the desert where no one lived.
No one lived here but him. That was why he had moved here, to keep others safe. But what if he could do more? He was already alone. But if he truly could call heat spells, there was no reason he shouldn’t call the ones that were harming a city.
His heart thudded. Maybe his power wasn’t so terrible after all.
The leaf swirled again in an invisible current, coming to rest on Rowen’s knee as he closed his eyes and sending a small itching sensation up his leg. He ignored it. His senses were caught to the northeast, inside a memory of sand and a distant feeling of heat. It was a motionless mass that he knew by now was a heat spell.
He wished he could sense the city, but maybe this would be enough.
He inhaled, and with the breath he pulled the heat toward himself. The mass lurched like falling dirt in a well, like a ship along the water.
Rowen’s skin buzzed. The air was full of energy, movement, and heat from the sun. All the energy was contained within the heat spell, but it still moved, still responded to his call. He let out a breath, fighting dizziness, and inhaled again, as though sucking water through a straw or breathing in humid air in the midst of a heat spell. His lungs burned.
But the heat spell was moving. He was doing it. Another part of his brain, a sense he hadn’t known he had, told him it was getting closer. It was like goose bumps on his skin when he was dehydrated, a heavy sense of something in the distance. That was probably close enough.
He let out his breath, opening his eyes to the cave, and the sensation vanished. His body shook with sudden fiery cold. The stone of the cave beneath him was cool, and he lay down, his eyes falling shut in a blink that lasted awhile.
“Rowen?” A voice sent a jolt through him. “Rowen, time to get up.”
Kristoff’s hand touched his face, the same light touch he loved, and he opened his eyes to see Kristoff’s blue ones, the sight of the other man framed by the gray of the cave. The light shining in from outside was brighter, the sun descended in the sky. “Rowen, are you all right?” His touch was firmer this time on Rowen’s forehead, and Kristoff’s mouth turned down. “You’re warm.”
Rowen pushed himself up, taking Kristoff’s hand, which was cool to the touch. They kept their supplies near the entrance, and before Rowen could get up, Kristoff got the message and quickly fetched the most important supplies they had gotten—pencils and paper.
Rowen hoped Kristoff wouldn’t be angry. I moved your heat spell, he wrote. He probably shouldn’t call it Kristoff’s heat spell, but it was too late now.
“You… you moved it?” Kristoff blinked. “Here?”
Rowen raised an eyebrow, then raised a hand as if hoping for rain. Kristoff blushed. “I mean, you moved it…. Is it going to be here? Why?”
I moved it away from the city. He stopped writing, staring at Kristoff.
Kristoff’s eyes widened, his mouth opening slightly. “You moved it away from the city.”
Rowen nodded, smiling.
“You moved it… away.” Kristoff sat back on his heels. “It’s in the ocean? Where it won’t hurt anyone?”
Rowen shrugged, then wrote I do not know. I need more practis. But it is closer.
“Closer. So….” Kristoff leapt to his feet, and Rowen got up too, fighting off a wave of dizziness. “You can call heat spells. You can call heat spells away from cities! Rowen, do you know what this means?”
Rowen smirked and nodded, excitement chasing away some of his exhaustion. He didn’t need to write it out for him. Kristoff didn’t need to say it.
It would only work if he stayed away from civilization, but as long as he did, he could call heat spells toward himself and away from people. His power was useful.
He had to sacrifice being with people to use it, but it was useful. Rowen smiled, emotion sending heat building behind his eyes. He really could save his village.
“You really are going to be a Storm Lord, Rowen,” Kristoff said, his eyes shining. “And I can help you do it.”