THE sun had just risen as Robin stepped onto the plank walkway of the Enline station. Shopkeepers, waiters, and clerks arrived to unlock their stores. As he’d been doing for the last few days, Robin planned to wait for Max Bunge to appear and follow him to the square, block building he entered every morning around seven. He didn’t know what he’d do after that, since guards armed like the ones he’d met outside the wall stood at every entrance and patrolled the warehouse borders in their flatbed steam trucks.
His newfound sense of purpose did much to alleviate the distractions that had been plaguing Robin. Nothing looked or sounded amiss as he sat watching the men and women, in their conservative suits and dresses, depart the trains. He pulled out the silver pocket watch he’d splurged on and checked the time. His mark would arrive within a quarter of an hour. Robin smiled because it felt just like the old days picking pockets.
Two more trains pulled into the station and crewmen rushed forward to check their boilers and pressure gauges. Others unfurled a great hose to replenish their water supplies from one of the towers. Passengers disembarked, and Robin watched them because he had nothing better to do. They headed toward the carriages, or to cafes or kiosks for breakfast. Paperboys announced the day’s news, and merchants hawked their wares. The station grew noisier and more crowded as people poured onto the platforms. Then everything froze. Smoke and steam from the trains hung suspended in the air. Travelers stood stone-still, their mouths open if they’d been speaking and their feet lifted if they’d been caught mid-step. Not even the clouds moved across the sky.
“What exactly do you think you’re doing?”
Robin turned and saw Snowdrop sitting on the bench beside him, dressed in a gorgeous mint-green suit and matching top hat. His coat tails hung a little lower than the current fashion dictated, and he’d wrapped his neck with a shimmery, champagne-colored cravat instead of a tie. Robin hadn’t seen nor heard him approach; he was just there. He had many questions for the faerie, but something else took precedence, and he seized Snow’s face in both hands and kissed him hard. Snow kissed back, and both men’s hands explored the face, hair, neck, and fine clothing of the other. It made Robin irrationally happy to fondle Snow’s pointed ear again. They didn’t stop until both were flushed and out of breath. Robin didn’t want to let go. He wanted to peel Snow’s suit away and make love to him on the wooden planks. Whatever he’d wanted to ask, it seemed trivial now. He couldn’t even remember.
“I missed you, Snow. I hoped you might come back.”
“I came back to tell you to stop being a fool,” the faerie said.
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve been following that awful man. It’s dangerous.”
“I know,” Robin admitted. “I can’t stop thinking about the others that were captured. I want to find them and let them go.”
“Why?”
Robin blushed. He didn’t want to tell Snow that he’d originally hoped one of those other faeries might bring him back to Snowdrop. It felt pitiful to admit that he’d risk his life for the smallest chance to see the other man again. “It isn’t right,” he said finally. “I’ve been taught that if it’s necessary to protect my people, then it must be acceptable. I’ve been told that your kind shouldn’t be considered the same as mine. I’ve been taught to hate you. But when I really thought about it, I decided it wasn’t right, no matter what everyone says. I can’t just believe along with them when my own mind is so conflicted. I have to do what I know to be proper, even if I’m the only man in the world who knows it. Won’t you help, Snow?”
“I’ve told you already I won’t risk it.”
“Even if you have no loyalty to your own kind, think of the weapons being developed in that factory: weapons that can suck magic and harm your people. Imagine an army of men coming across the wall with those weapons.”
“And you would betray your own people to protect mine?”
“To protect you!” Robin said, and immediately wished he could take it back. He flushed and looked away. “Some things are wrong no matter what’s at stake,” he mumbled. “Some lines shouldn’t be crossed.” Neither man spoke again for many moments. The eerie calm, unbroken even by a bird, a breeze, or the chirp of an insect, unnerved Robin. He thought about the power it took to accomplish such a thing. Should he really remove any chance his people had of defending themselves against such a power? “Defense is one thing,” he said, “torture, cruelty, and murder are different. Wrong.”
“You’re a surprising person,” Snow said, stroking Robin’s cheek with the back of his hand. “I suppose you won’t be dissuaded?”
“No.” Robin pushed his face against Snow’s knuckles. Then he remembered something and said, “Did you do something to me?”
“I didn’t do it on purpose,” the faerie answered. “It’s just an effect I often have on my lovers. It will fade the longer you spend away from me.”
“What if I don’t want to be away from you?”
“Intriguing,” Snow said. “I’ll strike a bargain with you. Leave off this nonsense for today, and I’ll visit you this evening in your room.”
Robin nodded and held the faerie’s hand against his lips. For the next few seconds, nothing else existed in the world. Then Snow stood up and said, “Let’s have some fun.”
He waved his hands at the people, laughing maniacally. Buttons popped from trouser flaps and ladies’ dresses. Suspenders severed and pockets burst. Giggling, Snow skipped about and positioned cases and bags in front of and underneath the feet of the helpless travelers. He moved cups to the edges of tables and slid jellied scones into the air above the laps of diners. Not squandering his opportunity, Robin went to the nearest cash boxes and filled his pockets with coins. He picked up a fresh berry tart to nibble while Snow danced around, undoing belts and untying shoes. When he’d finally finished he stood before Robin with a mischievous, almost frightening glint in his eyes. He removed his hat, held it to his chest and bowed theatrically to Robin. “Until tonight,” he said and was gone.
The second Snow disappeared, chaos erupted in the Enline station as pants fell to men’s ankles and women’s dresses dropped open, revealing their unmentionables. Food and drinks splattered chests and thighs. Coins rained from ripped pockets and disappeared between the wooden slats before their frantic owners could retrieve them. Ladies fainted and squealed. Children’s eyes were quickly covered by adult hands. People tripped over their shoes, and then over others who had fallen. Men with their trousers around their ankles crawled on their hands and knees, exposing the backs of their undershorts. Within a few short minutes, half of the morning commuters lay on the ground in some state of undress. The rest of them stumbled around, dazed and splattered with various things. Robin heard curses, shouts, and even a woman sobbing as he finished his pastry. In their fear and confusion, not a soul noticed that only he stood with his clothing clean and intact. It would take quite some time before any semblance of order returned to the rest of the station.
Since he’d promised not to follow Bunge, Robin opted to walk back to town. As he passed the carriages, he noticed broken wheels and axles as well as a few horses running loose, pursued by frantic drivers. One white pony was half a mile toward freedom among the heather. Robin supposed it was wicked of him to be amused by the whole display; Father Andrew at the church would certainly say it was. But he smiled and whistled a tune as he skipped down the path. A single thought repeated in his mind.
Snow is coming tonight!
THAT day was the longest of Robin’s life. Agitation eventually led him back to the station and its shops, where he purchased some scented lotion, a few bottles of the best chardonnay available in town, and some dahlias, hollyhock, foxgloves, and delphinium with which to decorate his simple room.
He returned home, cleaned his body, teeth, and hair and changed into clean underclothes and a fresh shirt. There was nothing left but to wait, and the hours dragged along at a snail’s pace. Finally, the sun dropped behind the western hills, and Robin lit his lamps. Night fell, and hunger compelled him to buy some pork bangers, mash, and peas from the pub downstairs. He finished them and cleaned his teeth again. He paced around his room, wondering if he should buy ice for the wine. He decided to do so, placing the bottles to chill in his wash basin. He sat on the edge of his bed and tried to read the paper, but found himself too distracted to concentrate on the stories. Finally he folded his hands beneath his head and stretched out, staring at the cracks in the plaster ceiling.
An hour later he sat up to see Snowdrop sitting at his rickety little table, his legs crossed at the knees and a platter of lemon bars the size of a grain sack in his lap. “This place is rather coarse,” the faerie said as he looked around the room. He wore the green suit from earlier, and had brushed his hair to a dazzling sheen. His hat sat beside him, next to the wine, which he opened and served. “Sit down,” he told Robin. “Have something.”
Robin took the other chair and sipped at the wine.
“Eat something,” Snow said.
“I shouldn’t,” Robin said, looking with yearning at his favorite treat.
“Why? I haven’t done anything to it. I never made you desire me, Robin, and I won’t trick or enchant you into doing so now.”
It was true. Robin had admired Snowdrop from the first time he saw his face in that blurry photograph. Everything else he’d been told of the fey had proved false, so he took one of Snow’s lemon bars and ate it. It was the best lemon bar he’d ever tasted.
“See?” Snow said. “I haven’t spirited you away!”
Robin said nothing. Deep down he wanted to be spirited away, and he wondered why Snow hadn’t offered. He’d understood luring off comely humans to be a common faerie practice. Robin didn’t even need luring; he’d gladly go if asked.
They drank wine and ate sweets. Robin found trouble making conversation with the faerie, though Snow seemed content to sit in silence. Finally Snow loosened his cravat and pressed it into Robin’s hand. “Would you like rain?” he asked. “Would you like a blizzard or a typhoon?”
“What’s a typhoon?” Robin asked, clutching the silk of Snow’s tie.
The faerie laughed, stood, and draped his coat over the back of the chair. He removed his waistcoat and started on the buttons of his shirt. “I’m very fascinated with you, Robin. I’m fond of you. If you ask me to, I’ll make the sky drip gold coins.”
“No need,” Robin said, coming over to comb his fingers through Snow’s hair. He’d never grow tired of the texture nor the way the strands caught the light. He looked into the faerie’s multicolored eyes and said, “I’m fascinated with you too.”
Snow took the lead and kissed Robin, holding the small of his back and pulling Robin close as he worked his tongue into Robin’s mouth. His lips felt soft and tasted sweet, but he kissed with intensity and need, battering Robin’s mouth and tongue like a storm. The very smell of him made Robin hard, and he pulled away long enough to push Snow’s shirt off his shoulders. When it drifted to the floor, Robin seized the faerie’s waistband and pulled him back into his arms. His hand insinuated itself into Snow’s trousers as he found his mouth again, his tongue poking against and twisting around the fey’s as he kneaded his firm, smooth ass.
Robin hadn’t dressed beyond his shirt, and Snow soon got him out of it. The feeling of their bare chests sliding together as they explored each other’s mouths, ears, necks, and nipples with their fingers, lips, and tongues defied description. Snow left cool, damp trails down Robin’s neck and chest as his mouth worked its way to Robin’s belly. He teased the ticklish places along Robin’s waist, and both of them giggled. His lovely white fingers unbuttoned Robin’s trousers and pushed them down. Ignoring Robin’s throbbing, dripping erection, Snow knelt down to caress his thighs and calves. Robin’s hair stood on end in the wake of his fingers.
“You have a beautiful body,” he said as he kissed up the outside of Robin’s leg. His breath warmed Robin’s skin and made his cock twitch and his anus contract. He bit the edge of Robin’s shorts and pulled the corner down, letting Robin’s cock spring out and smack against his belly. He felt his come seeping out and dribbling down his shaft. Snow burrowed his nose between Robin’s balls and his leg, breathing deeply of his scent.
“Snow, I’m about to come all over your face. You get me so worked up! Hurry and tell me what you want!”
The faerie reached up to play with Robin’s nipple. “I want to taste you this time,” he said. “But first I want you naked, and I want—”
“What?” Robin gently held his chin and turned his face upward. If he hadn’t known better, he’d have said Snowdrop flushed despite his greenish cast.
“I—”
“Ask me anything, Snow.”
“I’m ashamed to.”
Robin knelt down to face the other and asked why.
“It pleases me to be tied,” he said. “It never pleased me when, when that cursed bastard did it. I can’t say why or when I grew to need it. But with you, who I can trust, I enjoy it.”
“You trust me now?”
“Am I wrong to?”
“No. Tell me what you need.”
“I want you to bind up my arms, knees and ankles. Everything.”
Robin nodded. Honestly, he’d hoped Snow might want to fuck him tonight, but he was just glad they were together. “Get out of your clothes and lay down on the bed.” Robin finished undressing as he watched Snow’s white form sprawling out across his quilts. The faerie lay still and patient as Robin secured his wrists with his tie and his knees with the gold cravat. His erect cock lay flush against his hard belly, droplets of come sparkling in his slit. Robin leaned down to harvest them with his tongue before getting another tie from his armoire. He straddled Snow’s calves as he bound his ankles tightly together. He couldn’t resist dipping in for a taste of Snow’s delicious, drenched erection. Snow let Robin tease his slit with his tongue for a few minutes before he stopped him.
“Come here.”
Robin moved up Snow’s body until his knees rested next to the faerie’s chin. He pushed his foreskin back and poised the head of his dick on Snow’s lower lip. Snow’s tongue darted out to lap at the exposed head, rippling against the underside groove, and Robin trembled with the wonderful sensation. He grasped himself at his base and angled his cock down into his partner’s mouth. Silken heat surrounded him, and he shuddered, bracing himself against the wall beyond the headboard. Snow’s mouth drew him in, sucking hard and summoning another spurt of seed. Robin pressed toward his throat, and the faerie accommodated his girth. He thrust into Snow’s mouth as he watched the contrast between his dark red penis and the fey’s pale lips.
“You’re so beautiful. Oh my God, Snow!” Robin’s hands wrapped around the headboard, and he slowed his movement. “I can’t hold it.”
In response Snowdrop doubled his efforts, driving his face toward Robin’s pelvis. He swallowed against Robin’s cock, making his throat squeeze it and pull it in, sending a tremor of pleasure through Robin’s body. Robin thrust once and emptied his seed into Snow’s throat, his whole body trembling with the blessed release. He dropped his forehead against the wall as his beautiful partner dutifully sucked his penis clean. When he could take no more stimulation, Robin withdrew his softening dick from Snow’s mouth and laid his head on the faerie’s chest. His body felt like custard: weak, wobbly, and completely drained.
“Snowdrop, damn,” he panted, petting his lover’s svelte waist. “You’re wonderful beyond anything.”
“I’m not done with you, Robin,” the faerie said. “I still want you inside me.”
“You’ll destroy me yet,” Robin said, kissing Snow’s sweaty brow. His perspiration tasted like sea water and crushed grass. “Give me a minute.” He collapsed beside the bound fey, draping his arm over Snow’s ribs until his stamina returned.
It didn’t take long before Robin pushed himself up to kiss and caress Snowdrop’s stretched, taut body. His muscles looked enticing, straining against his bonds. Robin’s mouth moved over the firm ridges and cords of his torso. Snow thrust his swollen member against Robin’s stomach. Robin tasted his lips before moving his mouth to his wrist and suckling his way down his arm to the sparse white hair that grew beneath it. His unique smell excited Robin, and he felt his body react.
“Do you want me?” Snow breathed.
“Yes.” Robin flipped Snow over on his belly and raised his hips up. He opened Snow’s cheeks and dropped his face into his cleft. He smelled earthy and enticing, and Robin’s tongue sought to taste him. He let the tip wiggle into Snow’s small, sweet hole as he guided the faerie’s hips up a little higher. Snow moaned wantonly as Robin delved into his body. His muscles hugged Robin’s tongue as his hole grew wet and relaxed. Robin ran his hands over Snow’s back. All of his wounds had closed, though the raised scars remained. Robin didn’t find them disturbing or distasteful, though. They were just part of Snow.
“Robin, I want you,” he breathed.
Robin lifted his face and kissed the smooth crescents of Snow’s ass. “Stay just like that,” he said. “I got something for us.” He hurried off the bed to retrieve the scented lotion he’d bought. Snow twisted his neck and watched expectantly over his shoulder as Robin rubbed the floral salve up and down his length. He poured some onto his fingers, let it warm, and anointed Snow’s opening. The faerie growled with anticipation as Robin pressed his fingers inside him. He pushed back against Robin, enveloping his digits and squeezing them rhythmically. Robin’s fingers moved in and out of him until he’d sufficiently moistened and opened up Snow’s ass.
“I’m ready. Robin, please!”
“You don’t have to beg me,” Robin said as he removed his hand and positioned himself. “You don’t ever have to beg.” He pushed the head of his cock past the ring of muscle, making Snow moan musically. “Is that alright?”
“It’s fantastic,” Snow said. “More. Give me more of it.”
“Tell me when.” Robin eased himself slowly inside the other man, shocked at how hard and excited he’d become again so quickly. Snow had been snug before, but now, with his legs tethered tightly together, his pressure against Robin’s cock felt unbelievable. Robin stopped moving and took a deep breath. If he didn’t take his time, he’d never last long enough to sate the faerie’s appetites. Holding Snow’s hips, he drove in a hair further, and then another.
“Oh yes, that’s it!” Snow cried. His fingers curled and uncurled around the bedclothes. Robin began to move slowly, staying deep within his partner and pushing hard against the faerie’s gland with the head of his penis. Snow ground his hips in tight circles, meeting Robin’s thrusts and increasing his own stimulation. Soon both men shimmered with perspiration as they continued to make their unhurried love. Robin never wanted it to end. He never wanted to separate from Snowdrop, but eventually Snow’s thighs began to quiver with exertion, and his breath hitched. He mumbled some words in his tongue, the bizarre and beautiful language of the fey, and looked up from the pillow at Robin’s face. “I’m, I’m almost there, Robin.” He called Robin a word that was clearly a term of affection.
Robin sped his movements up just a bit and reached around Snow. The faerie’s cock was saturated with his slick seed, and Robin’s hand glided easily over it. He brought his fist to the fey’s sparse white fuzz as he stabbed down into him. Snow’s head thrashed from side to side as he muttered something unintelligible. With a few more careful strokes, Robin made Snow come until he whimpered and collapsed against the mattress. Robin’s hand stayed squashed between his body and the bed as he repositioned himself and kept pushing into his partner. Every thrust forced another sprinkle of come out of Snow, and drove his hips and Robin’s fist into the blankets. He shuddered as he felt his orgasm building and his muscles spasming. A bright green light with a yellow starburst at the center erupted behind Robin’s eyes as he emptied himself into Snowdrop. His chest dropped to Snow’s back as the sparkles slowly faded from his vision, and he finally managed to catch his breath.
“You’re the best thing ever,” he said softly as he smoothed Snow’s hair and kissed his shoulders. He left Snow on his belly as he went for a wash cloth. Then he rolled Snow over and freed him from his restraints. They’d left dents in his delicate skin and Robin massaged them a little shamefully.
“You’re quite the amazing lover, Robin,” he said. “I truly enjoy our time together.”
“I love our time together. I wish we had more of it,” Robin hinted. He’d refused to be Titus Lambert’s personal whore, but he’d happily be Snowdrop’s.
The faerie rose from the bed to pour them wine without responding.
Sometime later, as Robin rested his back against the headboard and Snow reclined against his chest, the faerie finally asked, “What will you do after you free the captive fey?”
“I don’t know,” Robin said, hoping.
“Men must work, mustn’t they? They can live only by toil.”
“Or by theft.”
“What would you do if you didn’t steal?”
Robin thought about his silly boyhood dreams, and decided Snow might be the one person not to laugh at them. “I’ve always loved books and tales. I’d love to study at a university, maybe write some things of my own. I have ideas of my own, but I’m afraid no school would accept me. I couldn’t pay them if they would. I’ve wondered what it would be like to sail, as my father did, or does. I don’t know. Maybe he’s out there at sea right now. I wonder if he ever thinks about me. Why do you think he never wanted me?”
“I don’t know.” He reached up and touched Robin’s hair.
Why don’t you want me, Snow? Robin thought. He felt melancholy and alone, despite the closeness of his lover. “Will you sing?” he asked, surprised by the sorrow in his voice.
Snow began a soft, sad song. The lilting, eerie melody echoed inside Robin’s ribs, making him feel hollow, even emptier than before. He’d never heard anything so tragic. He imagined the bleakness of the moors in winter, lifeless and barren as far as the eye could see. His head dropped back against the wall, and a tear slid down his cheek. Snow continued to serenade him quietly until he sank into a dreamless sleep.
The next morning no trace of the faerie remained: not a scrap of clothing, a strand of hair, or even a hint of his scent. Even the lemon bars were gone.