Fifteen: Strong Desires

Warning: Mature Themes (Mild)

 Anima’s home always felt like a neutral zone for Layre. He never had much decoration of his own to add, but the home itself was decorated as much as possible. If he had his own home, it would look like this one. Every corner, every surface, every inch of the wall was decorated with trinkets and paintings and pictures. Layre sometimes, when he had nothing else to do, would walk around the home and see if he could find anything new to his eyes.  

One night, while the home was painted with a dim, autumn orange light, Layre caught Anima sitting alone in the living room. She was perched comfortably in one of the reclining chairs, angled toward the fireplace. She was knitting a blanket, much like the one that Mageus had in the cabin.  

“Anima, sorry to intrude. May I sit with you?” Layre asks, and Anima gestures to the empty chair next to her. It is just as worn as the one she is sitting in, so Layre assumed that Viessa sat there often.  

Anima does not say anything, quiet as ever, so Layre asks the first question. 

“Is that for Mageus?” Layre attempts, fiddling nervously with his fingertips. 

“Yes, it’s my apology for not seeing him. Even if he understands why I did so, I still feel the guilt.” Anima sets down the blanket and turns to Layre. Her spacey eyes have now narrowed and focused. Whatever she was about to say, she found it important. “I want to thank you. For saving him. We had long since known the curse was something we could not break ourselves. It needed to come from within him, and whatever it was, you awoke it.” 

“I hope it was a good thing I awoke, then.”  

Anima laughs, her eyes crinkling.  

“It is. The boy will not stop talking about you. It feels like he is a child once again.”  

Layre blushes, looking down at the intricate carpet. It has swirls of deep blue and red, lined with gold thread. Layre digs his feet into it, feeling the softness of the material between his toes. His feet had been sorer than when he trained in the Iyelion Fighting School; he briefly wondered if Mageus would give them a massage for him. Was that a thing he could ask for, now? 

“I am glad it was you. You seem to have a pure heart, and as you know, many have come before you trying to do the same thing. Mageus would tell us he believed in their sincerity, in their feelings, but there would always be a breaking point. They always wanted to take his life, in the end. The last one who tried was named Emmyth, it was almost ten years ago now, but the heartbreak that Emmyth caused sent Mageus into a mad rage. He was unable to control the creature for many days.” 

“How would that work? Could the creature live through the sun?” Layre gives his arm a scratch. 

“Yes, the creature had enough control over his vulnerable state. It mostly stayed inside during the day, but it would lurk from the cabin much earlier, live through the sunset and kill the unsuspecting.”  

“How did Mageus take it when he finally awoke?” Layre is on the edge of the chair now, and Anima has picked the blanket back up. It rests on her lap, her hands twitching and twisting in fast, skillful movements. Layre watches, amazed.  

“Not well.” Is all she says, and Layre feels his heart break a little. He can imagine Mageus afraid and confused, waking to the horrors the creature had created while he grieved someone he thought had loved him. “I found him red in both his and Vatoun blood. He cried to me while I wiped it all off. That was a harsh night.”  

The crackling of the fire overtakes Layre’s mind, and Anima seems to enjoy the sounds too. Perhaps she needed a minute to continue as well. Sure, like Mageus had said, Anima was not his mother, but she did care to some degree, even if she did not like to show it.  

Rapid footsteps down the stairs call to Layre, and he smiles as Mageus appears at the bottom of them.  

“Would you two stop gossiping about me?” Mageus crosses the room to Layre, smiling down at him as he tilts his head back on the chair. “Is she bothering you?” He asks, setting his hands on Layre’s shoulders. 

“No, not quite.” Layre whispers.  

“Were you sharing tales of my youth to him, then? Were they embarrassing?” Mageus gives Layre a little grin, and Layre wishes that that’s what they talked about instead. Anima clicks her tongue. 

“I can tell you plenty, Layre. Once, when he was five, he took off his pants and jumped out the kitchen window--” 

“Okay! That’s enough! Come on, dear, let’s go back upstairs.” Mageus takes Layre’s hand and drags him up the stairs.  

“I wished to hear the end of that.” Layre pouts, but Mageus shakes his head. 

“No, no you don’t.” 

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ 

Later, when Layre and Mageus are gathering their stuff together, as they were set to leave the following morning, Layre speaks up through the drifting silence. A worry had been in his head, ever since they confessed to one another—or more so, when he confessed to Mageus. He had never gotten a true confirmation of Mageus’ intentions, and it was something he desperately desired.  

“Mageus, is it true, that you have affections for me the same as I do for you?” Layre whispers into the air, and Mageus stops what he is doing. At first, Layre is sure the man had not heard him, but he speaks before Layre can repeat himself. 

“What kind of question is that?” He says, turning towards Layre now. “Of course I do, dear.” 

“Well... why?” Layre grits his teeth. 

“Why?” Mageus laughs. He crosses the room, taking Layre’s hands in his own. “Look at you. You’re kind, selfless, beautiful, skilled, entrancing, majestic, intelligent. How could you ask that?”  

Layre’s face lights up with red embarrassment.  

“I am just a mortal, and you are of divine blood. Why do you want me? Won’t you grow bored?” 

Mageus shuts him up with a kiss, their second, and one so fiery that it has Layre wishing he had asked these questions sooner. Mageus hoists the man up, holding him beneath his thighs like he weighs nothing at all. He sets him on the bed, standing between his legs and pushing him down into the mattress so that their chests align. 

Layre closes his eyes, feeling the room grow significantly hotter. He had never experienced anything like this before, and he felt stupid when Mageus broke his lips open with his tongue. Layre had no idea what to do, but Mageus did not seem to mind. With his hands above Layre’s on the bed, palms pushed flat into the mattress, Layre wraps his legs around the Demi-God's waist. It is then he can feel the man’s strong desire for him. 

“Oh...” He gasps as Mageus breaks the kiss. A devilish smirk makes the man look less friendly and more crazed, a look that Layre finds himself liking on Mageus. It sends another wave of pleasure down Layre’s whole body. 

“Do you understand now? You are perfect, and you saved me. My body is yours if you want it.” Mageus rolls his hips into Layre’s, who chokes on a moan.  

“Yes, I do.” The Iyelian gasps, eyes rolling up and into his head. “I do want you in that way, but...”  

The uncertainty of Layre’s voice has Mageus pulling away. Layre grabs him by his shoulders, keeping him in place.  

“What is it, dear?” 

“I want to be with you, like how the men and women do. I do not want to be just another body you lie with, and as pleased as I am you find me attractive, I want more than that.” Layre’s still catching his breath, but he manages to lie his heart out for Mageus. Mageus stares down at him with an unreadable expression; Layre could tell from this look alone that nobody had ever asked for this before.  

Layre reaches up to wipe away at the tears forming in Mageus’ eyes. He catches them with his thumbs as they slide down his cheeks. Mageus collapses onto Layre, and Layre wraps his arms around the man’s back. He squeezes tight, letting Mageus get all of his emotions out. Layre would be that person for him, that person who gave him a place he could feel vulnerable enough to just let go.  

When Mageus has calmed down, he looks back up at Layre. His purple eyes are swirling with delicate emotion. 

“You truly want that? With me?” 

“Yes. It is all I have ever wanted.”  

Mageus leans down and kisses him deeply, only pulling back when he feels they are both smiling so hard it is impossible to kiss for any longer. Mageus rests his forehead onto Layre’s with the gentlest pressure. 

“What did I do to deserve you...”  And then, later, quieter, “Yes, my dear. I will be with you.”