What Dreams May

 

 

Xellos considered his plan thoughtfully.  The first part did not appeal particularly, but the second had… possibilities.  Open eyes gleaming flat violet, he smiled, an expression that typically sent golden dragons and other mazoku scurrying with equal speed out of his way.  So first I push those two into each other’s arms, and then I complicate things.  I can bear a little pain in a good cause like this.  Don’t worry, Zelas-sama!  You’ll get your gourmet meal.  This should be fun!

 

Gourry was snoozing under a tree when Xellos appeared beside him and nudged him with his staff.

“Oh Gourry-san, it’s time to wake up.”  The mercenary twitched away from the pokey thing, rolled half over, and continued snoring.  Smiling, as always, Xellos thumped the end of the staff in his ribs and Gourry started upright, rubbing his side and complaining.  “Ow!  Lina! – oh.  Hi Xellos.”  He looked up at the Trickster Priest, squinting in the sun.  “Is Lina back with the fish yet?”

“No, I believe she was slightly distracted by the stray troll that tried to take half her catch.  Amelia was attempting to keep her from starting another forest fire, last I saw.”  Observing the blank look on the swordsman’s face, Xellos summarized.  “She’s still catching fish.”

“Ah.”  Satisfied, he lay down again with his hands behind his head and closed his eyes.

“Gourry-san,” Xellos sang, nudging him again.  “You have to stay awake.”

“Huh?  Why?”

Xellos knelt next to him, taking a moment to glance around with his inner sight and make sure that no one else was near to hear them – that would definitely complicate his job at the moment, although it could be fun later…

“You love Zelgadis, do you not?”

Gourry blinked, sitting up again against the trunk of the tree, and slowly scratched the back of his head.  “Um… I… I dunno.  I mean, I’m not sure what love is supposed to feel like…”

“What a surprise,” the Trickster Priest murmured.  Sometimes the mercenary could be surprisingly bright, when his instincts came into play, or when he was just quick on the uptake for no reason in particular, but clearly today the jellyfish brains were in full control.  For instance, any of the others not only would’ve refused to tell a mazoku such delicate personal information, they would’ve Fireballed him for asking. “However, you think you might?”

Gourry pondered for a moment more.  “Yeah.  I guess so.  Why d’you wanna know?”

“Did you know that Zelgadis dreams about you?”

Frown of confusion.  “Dreams what about me?”

Xellos tilted his head, regretfully refraining from using his favorite answer – confusing the blond swordsman was all too easy, and he was supposed to make him understand.  “It’s not polite to say exactly what – but he was kind of – writhing – ” he wriggled sensuously to demonstrate.  “and moaning a lot.  He kept on saying your name.”

Gourry was scratching his head again, a frown of concentration on his face.  “Huh.  Maybe his back itched, and he wanted me to scratch it?”  Xellos shook his head.  “No?  Ummm…”  The mercenary couldn’t be this innocent.  Xellos knew he had a perfectly ordinary libido somewhere in there, tucked into some quiet corner.  All he had to do was say it clearly enough for the message to get through all that hair, past the jellyfish brains, and reach those fine instincts of his.

Ah well.  So much for subtlety.

“I believe Zelgadis wants to sleep with you, Gourry-san.”

The bemused expression was exchanged for one of mild puzzlement.  “He wants to share a room at the inn tonight with me?”  If the decision were left to Xellos, the mercenary might have died slowly – except for the fact that the annoyence he caused in everyone else with his stupidity outweighed the inconvenience he was presently causing the mazoku.  Barely.

“Well, yes...”  So much for commonly accepted euphemisms.  “But I think he wants a little more than that, Gourry-kun.”  Leaning close and smiling just a little bit wider, Xellos murmured at length into the mercenary’s ear, using vivid imagery and occasional gestures just to make sure the point got across.  From his expression when the priest moved back, not only did it get across, it jabbed pretty deeply.

“He… oh.”  The swordsman’s blue eyes were round with shock, and he blinked several times before shaking his head hard.  “Waitaminute.  How do you know all that?  Why were you watching Zelgadis sleep?”

Now he could say it.  Satisfaction in his smile, Xellos leaned forward again, holding up a finger so close to Gourry's nose that the merc went cross-eyed looking at it.  “Sore wa himitsu desu!”

 

Pulling off his tunic, Zel folded it and laid it over the back of the room’s single chair, then blinked as someone knocked on the door.  Hesitating, he glanced from his bed to the door, then sighed and went to answer it.  No one who’d be knocking on his door would be disturbed by a shirtless chimera – his companions had all seen far more frightening things.

            He pulled the door open and paused in something like shock.  Now he wished he’d gone ahead and put the damn pajama top on – except that it was only slightly more attractive than his own pebbled skin… he would not blush, he had better self-control than that…  “Gourry.” 

Clearly ready to go to bed, the mercenary was without sword or armor, barefoot on the smooth wooden floor in just his shirt and pants.  Smiling cheerfully as always, he shifted his weight and nodded, bangs slipping across his face and back.  “Hey, Zel.  Can I come in?”

“Um… Sure.”  Damn.  This was not going to be comfortable.  What could the blond man want?

Gourry walked past him and stood in the middle of the room looking around.  The door closed with a thud and Zel stood with his back to it wondering what to do with his hands.  After a moment he crossed his arms, wishing he could hide his rocky torso entirely.

Not surprisingly, Gourry didn’t seem to be aware of the impatient gaze on him as he stood there scratching his head and watching the wall as if he’d never seen one before.  Zel cleared his throat.  “So, can I help you with something?”

“Uh, I dunno.  Like what?”

Take a deep breath, keep your temper, don’t growl.  “Gourry, what do you want?”

“Oh, I wanted to ask you a question.”

“Ooohhkay…”  The Swordsman of Light had the ability to ask amazing questions sometimes – from the incredibly obvious all the way to the impossible, and extremely awkward was not out of the realm of possibility.  Sweatdropping, Zel shifted a bit uncomfortably, wishing the fading light from the window didn’t shine quite so brightly on that incredible mane of gold hair.  “What kind of question?”

“What kind?  Uh, I dunno what kind it is…”  The swordsman looked lost.

Zelgadis sighed.  “What is it?”  How bad could it be?

Brightening, Gourry turned to look at him.  “Do you want to sleep with me?”

The chimera face-faulted.  Fortunately the inn-room had a sturdy floor that withstood the strain of half-a-ton of rock collapsing on it.  Propping himself up on his forearms, Zel shook his head dizzily.  Pretty bad, apparently.  Where in all the hells had that come from, and what was he supposed to say now?

“Why – why do you ask?” he said weakly, starting to climb back to his feet.

Gourry frowned, looking at the ceiling for a reply.  “Ummm… Cause I wanna know the answer.”

“You do?”  Damn.  Zel was completely clueless as to which way to jump.  Where did the blond merc get the idea to ask that, and what was he planning to do once he had an answer?  From things Lina had said, teasing Gourry about something that had happened when Zel wasn’t around, the one time Gourry had been proposed to by a man, he’d found the idea entirely distasteful.  The chimera had no intention of getting his head chopped off when the wielder of the Sword of Light discovered that he desired said wielder.  Pushing up from a kneeling position, he managed to stand again and crossed his arms, trying to retrieve his dignity.  “Um, why?” 

Gourry brightened again.  “Because it would be really great if you did!”

Thudding back down to his knees as they inexplicably weakened, Zelgadis stared, open-mouthed.  He was having a hard time coming up with words, or coherent thoughts for that matter; everything had been shocked out of his head.  All his trains of logic were stuttering and staggering around in little circles, and for some reason he didn’t seem to be getting enough air.  “Why would this be great?” he gasped.

Looking slightly worried, Gourry closed the short distance between them and crouched beside the kneeling chimera.  “Because I – I’d really like to sleep with you, and it would be great if you did too – I mean, it would be okay if you didn’t, I won’t mind, but it would just be nice...”  He was scratching his head again as he spoke, smiling at Zel.  “But you do want to, don’t you?”

Numbly the chimera nodded, wondering what primary rule of life was going to turn on its head next.  Gravity?  Time?  Maybe now he would find that he could breathe water?  Or maybe he was dead.  That seemed quite likely for a moment, until he remembered that he would presumably have noticed dying.

Gourry had an active libido?  And not only that, he was interested in the chimera?

An uncomfortable doubt occurred.  Or maybe he was completely misunderstanding the blond swordsman.  Maybe Gourry meant something totally different when he said he wanted to sleep with Zel – considering how slow on the uptake he was elsewhere, he wouldn’t necessarily know it was a euphmism.

“Zel?  You’re not saying anything,” the swordsman observed.

Keeping his face as expressionless as possible, Zelgadis looked at him carefully.  “What do you mean when you say “sleep with” me?”  With some annoyance he realized that he was blushing, but he couldn’t help it.

Gourry blushed too, glancing at the floor, but then he looked back at the chimera, meeting his gaze with those bright blue eyes, embarrassed but saying it anyway.  “You know.  Kissing and stuff.”

Zel’s mouth went completely dry and he sank back on his heels.  His head was spinning, very slowly, but with great diligence and determination, and he doubted that he could formulate a coherent sentence if he were given the next half-hour to do it in.  The world had indeed gone completely round the bend.  Gourry, the jellyfish-brained Swordsman of Light, wanted to sleep with Zelgadis, the heartless magic-using chimera.  There was something very wrong about this.

And not only that, he realized slowly, but he had known that Zel wanted the same thing.  The swordsman’s instincts again?

“How… how did you know?”

“Know what?”

“How did you know I wanted to sleep with you?”  He could feel the red burning high on his cheeks again as he stared at the floor.  “Was I that obvious?”

“Huh?  No!  I would never have guessed, but Xellos told me.”

“What?!”  His gaze jerked up from the floor to bore into those guileless blue eyes, outraged at the very idea of the mazoku knowing something like that.  “That gods-damned namagomi!  How did he know?!”

Gourry blinked and leaned back a little, probably hoping he wasn’t about to get Fireballed.  “Uhhh, he said you dreamed about me.  I asked him why he was watching you sleep and he said it was a secret.”

Growling, Zel ground one fist into the floor, simmering over the thought of Xellos watching him dream… of Gourry…  “Unh,” he muttered, rubbing the other hand over his face as the blush renewed itself. 

“What did you dream about me?” Gourry said softly.  Was he turning telepathic now?

“I can’t tell you that!” Zel protested, snapping upright to stare at him, scandalized.

The swordsman leaned forward, blue eyes holding Zel’s with such intensity it seemed two azure flames were focused on him, burning into him.  The chimera frowned faintly and shifted in discomfort as an answering flame lit in the pit of his stomach and the heat began to spread.  “Yes you can,” Gourry said.  His hair was half over one shoulder, glinting like spun gold in the candlelight, Zel noticed, hypnotized.

“You liked the dreams, right?”  Zelgadis nodded reluctantly.  “So tell me what happened and we can try it.”

Eyes wide, Zel stared at the Swordsman of Light.  He shook his head.  “You won’t like it.”

“How do you know until you tell me?” he asked.

Zel snorted, rolling his eyes.  “I know you.  Maybe you wouldn’t have the same reaction as Amelia, but I’d still be lucky to escape unharmed.”

“Zel.  I swear on the Sword of Light not to hurt you.  Satisfied?”

Blinking repeatedly, the chimera asked himself plaintively how long he had been insane.  He couldn’t remember going over the edge – perhaps he was just dreaming again.  Certainly some of his dreams recently had been just as realistic, and just as unrealistically pleasant…

“Uh… Yes.  But, I… can’t remember all of it.”

“So tell me what you remember and we can make up the rest,” Gourry said reasonably, grinning but unbudging.

Zel almost whimpered, remembering something from one of the dreams – he didn’t know if he could survive living them – and certainly not telling them to Gourry!  He would die from embarrassment, if his stone face didn’t melt from the heat of his blushes first.

Shaking his head again, he started to repeat that he didn’t want to relate them, but the swordsman leaned forward until their noses almost touched and the chimera’s voice died out on the third word.  “Zel-kun.  Tell me.”

Swallowing carefully, Zel closed his eyes, wondering which dream to tell if he was going to say one at all.  At a soft, warm touch on his mouth, he started violently, eyes flying open to meet Gourry’s glowing at him from little more than an inch away.  His lips opened in shock and a tongue flicked between them, Gourry’s eyes slitting in silent laughter.  After a moment to make sure the floating sensation really wasn’t him falling through the floor, he hesitantly started to return the kiss.

By the time the swordsman finally pulled away, Zel’s stomach was pulsing with the heat from that blue flame, and his skin felt hot and tight.  He was now absolutely certain this was a dream – nothing in his real life had ever felt that good.

Gourry was still grinning sunnily.  “Please?”

Taking a quick gasp of air, Zel gave up the fight.  “I – when it started we were standing.”  He looked around doubtfully – was it really necessary to stand up? – but the mercenary had him firmly by one arm and was pulling him to his feet.

“What next?”  He hadn’t let go of the arm, was just holding it in one warm, sword-calloused hand, and Zel reminded himself to relax.  It was just a dream, he could drop his usual reserve and enjoy the overheated feeling that was making his cheeks hot.

“We, uh, kissed.”

“We already took care of that, but let’s try it again.”  Gourry’s smile was perfectly familiar, but the heat in his blue eyes was new and rather unnerving as he bent down to Zel’s lips again.  Briefly the chimera was reminded by the curve of his neck of the difference in their heights before Gourry’s warm mouth made him forget everything but the play of lips and tongue and teeth.  This time he responded hungrily, one hand going to the swordsman’s shoulder and the other slipping behind his neck and digging into that luxurious yellow mane. 

Blood was throbbing in his ears with his speeding heartbeat when they pulled apart again, and he reeled dizzily as if gravity had just remembered him.  Gourry grabbed both arms and steadied him.

“You okay?  Maybe we shouldn’t have stood up…”

“I’m fine…”  Zel managed to find his balance again on his third try.

“You sure?  Cause I should really take off my shirt.  It’s not fair this way,” the mercenary smiled, indicating Zel’s bare chest.

The chimera grinned sharp concurrence.  “Go right ahead.”

Releasing him, Gourry quickly shucked off his shirt, throwing it onto the chair before turning back to the gleam-eyed chimera.  “So what happened next in your dream?”

“Ah, let’s see… Oh.”  To his annoyance, Zel blushed again.  He avoided the taller man’s gaze, looking off to one side.  “Ah, we don’t have to follow that dream exactly, we could just improvise – ” seeing as this is just another dream, after all.  It’d be rather silly for this dream just to follow the other dream in every detail – a little repetitive, that…

“Yeah, but if you tell me what I did in the dream, I’ll know for sure how to make you happy.”  Blue eyes glinted down into his, and Zel temporarily lost control of his voice.

He cleared his throat, coughed, swallowed quietly.  “You pushed me down on the bed…”

“Ah!  I can do that.”  Grinning again, Gourry gently shoved Zel down on the bed, which creaked very quietly, and bent over him to lay a kiss at the base of his throat.  He sat back smiling in satisfaction.  “Then what?”

“You took off my pants…”  He looked warily at the swordsman, worried about his reaction even in a dream, no matter how many times he’d been through this in dreams before – somehow, he’d always known what was going on there.  It hadn’t taken him long to recognize the feel of dreams that turned – interesting, but for some reason this one had come out of the blue, and kept on surprising him…

Ducking to kiss him again, Gourry let his hands slide down over chiseled muscles, caressing over ribs and abdomen to the waistband of the chimera’s beige pants to start undoing them.  Under him, Zel couldn’t suppress a shiver and kissed back fiercely, his own hands roaming over as much of Gourry’s back and sides as he could reach.  Finally the mercenary broke the kiss to scooch down the bed and start peeling underwear along with the pants down the chimera’s long legs.  Zel shuddered hard as the gentle fingers grazed over hot, aching stone, and slowly turned red, staring fixedly at the ceiling, as Gourry freed him from the confines of his clothing.  He knew it was utterly ridiculous, it was a dream by all the gods, but it felt too real not to be embarrassed.

The swordsman noticed.  “Why are you blushing?”  As he unhurriedly pulled the cloth away, his hands traced and caressed each newly bared inch of skin, causing Zel’s reaction to somehow become even more noticable.  The chimera’s throat was tight and his mouth was dry, and he really doubted he could make himself comprehensible, so he just shrugged.

Making matters more uncomfortable, Gourry’s hands stopped moving and lay still on his bare thighs as the swordsman peered at him, worried.  “Zel-kun?  You’re bright red, what’s wrong?”

“Ah – ”  Zel-kun?  Dream, right.  Awkwardly he waved one hand, trying to explain without drawing attention to his fully-at-attention body.

“Yeah?  It means I’m doing it right.  Here.”  Licking his lips, Gourry leaned down and laid a soft kiss on the blue stone tip of Zel’s erect cock.

That – did not feel like a dream.  Dreams did not feel that intensely good.  Had his throat not been so dry, Zelgadis probably would have screamed.  As it was his spine arched and he let out a choked sound that caused the blond swordsman to move back up to stare into his eyes and stroke the wiry hair back from his face.  “Hey,” he said gently.  “You all right?”

In an attempt at dignity, Zel choked back the shaky groan that wanted to come out and nodded instead.  He stared up at those luminous blue eyes.  They looked so concerned, full of caring…  Hey, nice thing about dreaming, you get what you want, he reminded himself.  What you’ll never get in the waking world… Gourry would never sleep with him there, much less care for him or anything. 

But here he cared, and he was lying half-clothed on the bed beside Zel, and that was what mattered.

“You’ve never done this before, have you,” said the mercenary suddenly, sounding like he’d just figured it out.

Well, actually I’ve dreamed about it a lot before, but you don’t know you’re a dream, so I probably shouldn’t say that or I might wake up.  “Uh, no?  …You sound surprised,” he said after a moment, frowning.

“Well, yeah.  I mean, you’re so beautiful – and I don’t mean in a dress,” he added hastily.  He leaned on one elbow beside the chimera, still stroking Zel’s face.  The other hand had wandered down Zel’s neck and was playing in little circles around one nipple.

Zel shivered, badly distracted.  Mouth desperately trying to keep him up to date on what Gourry was saying, he muttered the syllables he’d just heard with a glassy-eyed stare.  “So beautiful, and you don’t mean in a dress...”  Then he blinked and frowned.  “Wait – I’m so beautiful?”  He gifted the other man with an incredulous stare.  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Gourry looked confused, hands stilling.  “I’m not.  You are beautiful.”

Zelgadis rolled his eyes.  “Gourry, I have blue-grey, pebbly stone skin and weird wire hair.  I’m well aware that I don’t fit the criteria for attractiveness.  I’m not good-looking, and I’m used to it.  You don’t have to try and make me feel better about it.”  Funny, none of the dreams before had said anything like that.

“I didn’t say good-looking,” Gourry corrected him, “I said beautiful.”  His hand reached the center of its spiral and rubbed over the nipple.  Zel twitched, gasping.  “And I can see the skin and hair better than you can at the moment, and I think you’re gorgeous.”  Tracing Zel’s lips with his thumb, he smiled like sunlight and moved back to finish taking the chimera’s pants off, leaving Zel to wonder dazedly just what was up with this.  He couldn’t remember having eaten anything strange before going to bed…

“For one thing,” the blonde man continued, moving Zel’s pants down as leisurely as before, hands curving over the stone skin just bared, “this is way prettier than human guys’.”  One finger ran gently up the smooth blue length and Zel moaned hoarsely, arching his back again.  “Gah!  Gourry,” he gasped.

“What?”  Gourry looked up at him expectantly, edging the pants past his knees.

“Careful… Um, I… don’t know …” he gave up on words, looking helplessly back at the blonde mercenary.

“What?  Should I stop?”  His hands slid cloth over pebbled shins and left it wrapped around Zel’s ankles, fingertips stroking over his knees to the insides of his thighs.

“No!  No, I… uh… gghhnnn…” dammit, this was ridiculous!  Gourry was waiting for an answer, but Zel couldn’t think enough to talk!  Those fingers were turning his brain to yoghurt, the gentle stroking on his inner thighs sending heat pouring through his veins to muddle any thought – the fire in his abdomen had built and sent out tendrils of delicious flame through his body.  His hands were clenched into fists, his breathing had degenerated to ragged panting, and under the swordsman’s hands his legs were twitching.

Noticing the way the chimera’s hips were grinding back and forth against the bed, Gourry pulled the pants off his ankles, folded them and tossed them onto the chair.  Then he moved up to fan his hands across Zel’s chest, brushing gently over his nipples so the chimera gasped.

“You want me to go slower?”  Idly he traced the outlines of ribs and muscles, running fingers around each random pebble.

Zelgadis gritted his teeth.  “No.  Stop talking,” he rasped, and dug his fingers into gold hair, yanking Gourry’s head down far enough to reach his lips.  The chimera did a quite respectable job of conveying the heat that surged in his veins and beat in his ears like a riptide as his heart tried to pound its way out of his chest.  Gourry’s lips were soft and his mouth was wet heat on Zel’s.  Finally the mercenary pulled back, eyes wide and intense as blue suns.  He wasn’t smiling at all, but he was breathing as fast as Zel as he stared into the chimera’s eyes.

“You learn quick.”

Panting with success, he grinned hard and sharp.  “Yeah, I do.  You want to get those pants off so I can demonstrate some more?”

“Umm…”  Gourry considered this prospect while his thumbs flicked lightly back and forth over stone nipples.  Clenching his jaw, Zel bit back a whimper and writhed.

“I dunno, this is fun!”  The cheerful grin was back, and Zelgadis drowned in the blue fire from those eyes.  Heat moved up and down his body in waves, every touch of Gourry’s hands on him sent waves of sensation burning through every nerve ending, and it wasn’t enough, not nearly enough.

The hands vanished, the bed creaked slightly, and Zel realized he’d closed his eyes.  Breathing hard and gritting his teeth to keep from moaning, he opened them to see the Swordsman of Light standing by the chair with his back turned to Zel, stripping off his pants.  Tossing them over the chair along with the rest of their clothing, he turned around, grinning wider as the chimera’s lips parted.

Zel’s gaze was glued to the swordsman’s tall, sculpted frame, tracing up and down his length with hungry eyes.  If that was the result of Zel’s recent efforts, the chimera thought smugly, he did seem to be learning quickly and well…  Gourry was incredibly beautiful without clothes, he decided.  Objectively speaking, of course.

Then in one fluid movement the blond swordsman was kneeling on the bed, long legs straddling blue stone thighs, gold mane sweeping over chiseled muscles.  Gasping at the feathery touch, transfixed by burning azure eyes, Zel shifted his hips uneasily, the heat there building higher along with the blood pounding in his ears.

One sword-calloused hand toyed with a blue nipple again, the other swept the wire hair out of Zel’s face as he bent over the chimera.  To his surprise, Gourry’s lips went past his and out of his line of sight, but before he could be disappointed they fastened on the hard edge of his ear.  His breath caught in his throat at the wet suction, then escaped in a rather undignified squeak that turned into a long moan as a hot tongue swiped along the edge and teeth closed on the sensitive stone tip, nibbling.  “What happened next in your dream?” the mercenary breathed after a moment, and Zelgadis shivered at the moist hot air on his neck.  It took some time to recall that Gourry’d convinced him to work from the other dream.

“Ahhh…”  What had happened?  Recalling the dream was more difficult than it ought to be, considering how it had monopolized his waking thoughts for the past week – but then, this dream was real enough to make him forget more than that.

Of course, when Gourry had taken off his pants in the other dream, it had been considerably faster than this time, and he’d then proceeded to – oh.  Oh.  Now he remembered, and was considerably exasperated to feel himself blushing yet again.  That… wasn’t necessary, really, he could think of more interesting things to do first.

“Ah… it doesn’t matter.  I think I prefer to improvise,” he said thoughtfully, and lunged upward.  Gourry landed on his back underneath with a startled yelp, and Zel fastened careful teeth on his shoulder with great satisfaction.  Hands curving over muscle and hard ribs, slipping gradually lower, the chimera experimented with chewing gently and then sucking, just above the collarbone.  Gourry’s breathing was doing interesting things when he started to expand his attentions, trailing bites and licks across the mercenary’s broad shoulders and then down his chest.

“You’re… picking this up way too fast,” muttered a raspy voice when he reached one nipple.  Big hands were clenched in the bed-covers and the broad, lanky form was tense under him.  That might also have something to do with where his hands had got to at the moment – barely touching the skin of slender hips, tracing little circles inward.

Zel looked up and bared sharp teeth in a grin.  “It’s called primal instinct.”  He braced himself for some confused question about ‘a what stink?’ and then blinked when it didn’t come.  Instead there was a sudden surge of muscle underneath him, the world twirled, and once more he landed under a determined Swordsman of Light with eyes that gleamed disturbingly.  That look pulled a response from the coiled heat in his stomach, and Zel gasped for breath as the tightness in his groin intensified again.

“Did you like what came next in your dream?”

“I – well of course, I mean it was a dream, but that doesn’t – ”

“Is it possible to do?”  He had on that unnerving implacable grin again.

“Uh.”  Zel frowned up at him in deep puzzlement.  The swordsman had never acted this way before in any of his dreams.  “Technically, I guess.  But it’d hurt you.”  His cheeks were heating up again, he could feel it, but the sensation of flame tendrils creeping through his core distracted him rather thoroughly.

“Maybe I should judge that.  You’ve never done this before.” 

Zel bristled, ready to take offense at condescension or smugness, but there wasn’t any, just a strange warm look that after a moment he tentatively identified as fondness.  At that, his face went hot and for some reason he found it impossible to meet Gourry’s eyes for a minute.  The desire coiled like hot amber magma in his abdomen surged and reached out to wrap around him, and he clenched his teeth against it and against answering Gourry, writhing on the bed for a moment under the swordsman before he clawed control back and held still.

There was a pause while the blonde man inspected him thoughtfully.  Zelgadis stared at the ceiling and breathed hard through his teeth.  If he’d had enough mind left he could’ve tried to flip over onto Gourry again, but all his energy was going into keeping his libido leashed.  And then there was the minor fact that Gourry had managed to pin his limbs to the bed without him noticing, kneeling on his thighs and hands on his forearms.  That wasn’t good… he’d have to keep that in mind in future…

“Huh.  Well, if you won’t tell me, I guess I’ll just have to wing it,” the swordsman said cheerfully.  “Lessee…”  Warily Zelgadis raised his head to keep track of what he was doing as the blonde man moved back down the bed, and a good thing he did, because when Gourry’s tongue flicked out and began to stroke up and down his cock, instead of screaming the walls down and totally destroying any semblance of dignity, the chimera was able to restrict himself to a series of choked cries and strangled groans.  To begin with, anyway.  When the mercenary’s hot mouth came down around him Zel would’ve challenged a statue to keep from shrieking.

Yet as soon as it was there, it was gone again, and Zel opened his eyes in disbelief, blood pounding in his ears with the echoes of his yell.  The gleaming smile looked very feral suddenly, but involved in his body’s impetuous demands for action, Zel had very little attention to spare it.  The best he could manage was a burning glare as he writhed again, twisting on the rumpled covers like a snake urgently trying to shed its skin, eyes narrowed and making silent demands.

“Were you inside me, Zelgadis?” the swordsman asked quietly, blue eyes glinting.

The world stuttered for a moment as he stared.  How had he known?  Then logic took over.  It was a dream, Gourry could know anything, dreams weren’t supposed to make sense.  He opened his mouth to find that his vocal cords had kicked back and were enjoying their vacation, and nodded mutely.

Without taking his eyes off Zel’s, the blond mercenary quickly straddled him, and before Zel could knit his mind back together enough to clear his throat and speak, he was transfixed, voice stolen as Gourry pushed back, slowly impaling himself on smooth wet stone.  Zel arched, unable even to scream, hands fastening of their own accord on the swordsman’s hips.  Then Gourry began to move, and he felt his mind come loose as a rough-edged shriek ripped itself from his frozen vocal cords.  The heat had turned to a whirling firestorm, and it was eating him alive the higher it built, but he didn’t mind in the least.  The molten desire had become a tidal wave, he was riding the brink of it, just ahead of the storm, and it felt incredible, like a cure, like ecstasy in warm flesh.

Gourry’s head was tilted back, neck arched, breathing hard in rhythm to the rapid pace he’d set.  Through his hands on those slim hips Zel could feel him shaking with the strain, but there was no time because he could feel the edge reaching him, feel himself slipping over.  As the tidal wave came crashing down, the firestorm exploding inside him, the chimera felt his mind shred and scatter to the four winds that ripped him apart as his voice tore from his lips in a hoarse howl that a banshee would have been proud of.

When he returned from the warm, dark place where he’d been floating for a little while, Gourry was lying next to him on his stomach, eyes closed, still breathing fast.

“That.  Ahm.  Thanks,” he managed after a pause, twitching one limb after another to be sure they still worked. 

“Sure.”  The mercenary didn’t open his eyes, and his voice sounded a little odd.

“Hey.  Gourry,” he said in sudden concern, propping himself up on one elbow with rather more effort than he’d expected, “you okay?”

The blue eyes opened, and Zel nearly drowned in the whirlpool of lust swirling in their depths, but the lids dropped again for a moment before lifting once more, and they were warm and amused, almost normal except for a spark, a clarity lurking there that he had never seen before.  “Heh… yeah, I’m fine.”

“Good.”  He grinned lazily, and one stone hand lifted to slide down the long, smoothly-muscled back and paused of its own volition on the mercenary’s ass, fingertips sliding down an incline as if pulled by some force as innocent as gravity.  Gourry gasped, stiffening slightly, and Zel could see the effort it took to smile again.

He frowned.  “Gourry…”  His hand lifted into the light again, and his eyes widened at the faint pink stain on his fingertips.  “You’re bleeding!”  Panic brought anger flashing through him, he grabbed for control again it’s a dream it’s just a dream.  It didn’t help much.  “You jellyfish, why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?!”

The swordsman chuckled, and unlike the smile, it didn’t sound forced.  “I’m not hurt, honestly.  It’s just that I haven’t done this in a few years.  Really, Zel, I’m fine.”

“But you’re bleeding.  You’re not supposed to be, are you?”  Curse it all, it was a dream, he wasn’t supposed to be feeling awkward and uncertain and ignorant and embarrassed!  He was supposed to be making Gourry scream in melting ecstasy, not making him bleed.

“Not usually, no, but I was a little impatient.”  The white grin gleamed lust at him again.  “Next time I’ll be more careful.”

“More careful?”  He sat up on the rumpled bed, looking down at the blond man uneasily.  “It’s because you forgot, isn’t it.  My skin – and – ”

Gourry laughed and received an uncertain glare as he sat up, putting a hand on one rocky shoulder.  “No, that’s not it.  It’d be the same way if you were soft-skinned.  Honestly, Zel-kun, it has nothing to do with being stone.”

Zel crossed his arms, much relieved and trying not to show it.  “Well, I’m sure it doesn’t help.  Let me cast a recovery spell.”

Grinning, the mercenary shrugged and lay down again, closing his eyes as the healing spell mended split, abraded flesh and made it whole again.  Zel couldn’t help wondering, if what he said was true and that always happened if you weren’t careful, whether he’d ever been healed by a lover before.  He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. 

Gourry sighed happily as the spell finished, stretched, and opened his eyes, looking up at the chimera.  “Thanks,” he said softly.

Zel looked down at his stone-scarred hands uncomfortably.  Something in him ached at the warmth in those eyes.  He knew what it meant and there was a part of him that would do anything to make it real, but this was a dream.  In the morning he’d wake up to find that Gourry was the same as ever and none of this had happened.  “No problem.”

“Zel-kun,” one long, slender hand entered his field of vision, rested on the back of his, “do you want to know why I wanted to sleep with you?”

He took a breath, let it out in bits.  Maybe Gourry wouldn’t say it.  He looked up with a smirk.  “You knew I’d be a fast learner and dreaming of Lina just wasn’t doing it for you anymore?”

“Dreaming of Lina?”  Gourry gave him a confounded look.  “I don’t dream of Lina!  She’s dangerous!  And she hasn’t got any breasts!  I mean, not that I’d really care about that, but… she’s only fifteen, and I’m her bodyguard!”  Blinking, he shook his head.  “Anyway.  I was pretty sure you’d be a fast learner, I mean you’re really smart, but mostly it’s that I mmph!”

Realizing suddenly that he had a rather intense desire not to hear what Gourry was about to say, Zel lunged for him and fastened his lips to the taller man’s, kissing like a man eating his last meal.  Startled, Gourry nevertheless responded intensely, pushing Zel down to the bed and kissing him into the mattress.  A short, heated period later they came up for air and Zelgadis figured out that the hard thing pressing against his thigh was a little small to be Gourry’s leg.

“Um, Gourry, why didn’t you mention this?”  Carefully he shifted his leg up and down again, rubbing gently, and the blonde swordsman gasped quietly.  Then he smiled and shrugged, mane shifting around his shoulders.

“There are more important things to do.  Like telling you I – ”

The chimera put one hand over his mouth, shaking his head quickly.  “Don’t.  I know, I just… don’t say it.”

The look in the clear blue eyes was enough to kill him.  Shock, worry, the beginning of anguish.  “Why not?” Gourry asked quietly.

He shrugged, withdrawing slightly into himself at the knowledge that as usual he was hurting someone he cared about with his coldness.  “I can’t quite believe it.  I’d rather you not say it for a while, so maybe I can respond properly when you do.”  I think I’ll die if I wake up one more time remembering you say you love me… in a dream. 

Gourry was looking thoughtful if not entirely happy, kneeling on the bed beside him, so Zel took the opportunity to execute a surprise maneuver, snapping up to grab his shoulders and shove him down on the bed, one hand on either side of him.  The blonde man gasped as the shimmering mass of lavender wire around Zel’s face dipped below his line of sight and a hot mouth fastened on one nipple, stone fingers rubbing over the other with incredible delicacy.

After spending some time on these important matters, the chimera straightened up to give the blonde man a severe look.  “Now, about this problem you forgot to tell me about.”

Puzzled blue eyes blinked up at him.  “Problem?”

The chimera gave him one of his patented exasperated looks, then, with great satisfaction, repaid him for some earlier distress, softly pulling one blue fingertip along the length of Gourry’s solid-steel cock.  To his annoyance, the swordsman only hissed and twitched.

“Yeah,” he gasped with a small smile, “what about it?”

Zel glared.  “What, I’m open game and you’re free to be ignored?  Don’t you think we should do something about it?”

Gourry shrugged, the faint hint of unhappiness still hanging at the back of his eyes.  “I was planning to spend a little more time on you first.”

“Isn’t that something of a strain?”

The smile shifted to a wide, one-sided grin and the edge of hurt to his expression disappeared.  “Trust me, it’s been worse.”

Frowning in disbelief, Zel stared at him.  “Gourry, how much experience have you had?”  No, wait, that was a stupid question, the swordsman was bloody gorgeous, he should have known that, it didn’t have to be answered, he really wouldn’t mind –

“Eh-heh,” one hand went behind his head as he gave Zel that sunny, slightly embarrassed grin.  “I’m a mercenary.  You know what happens when you fight?”

“People die.”

“Um… yes… Waitaminute, Zel, I know it happens to you too, I saw you once after a fight, going off toward a cold stream.  Fighting turns you on, right?”

Staring scandalized shock at him, the chimera sat bolt upright, hoping like hell he wasn’t blushing again.  “I beg your pardon?!  It what?  I’m not a pervert!”

“I didn’t say you were.  I’m not either.  What’s that got to do with anything?”

Zelgadis stuttered for a moment, looking for something to say that would get him out of this.  Gourry smiled and raised his eyebrows.  After a moment the chimera fidgited and looked away, wishing his blood was permanently cut off from his cheeks.  “All right, maybe, sometimes,” he finally muttered reluctantly.

“Right.  So, if I’m fighting along with other mercs, they usually get the same way…”  Gourry shrugged again.  “And things happen.  And if I’m not, things don’t.”  He was giving Zel a very amused smile.  “And sometimes there’s no way to deal with it, so I ignore it.”

Zel winced.  “I see.”  He looked back down the long, leanly muscled body and splayed his hands across the broad chest, staring into the bright azure eyes with an evilly narrowed gaze.  “Well, there are plenty of ways to deal with it at present, so if you don’t mind – ?”

“Zel-kun,” one strong hand stroked the thick lock of wiry lilac hair out of his widening eyes, curving down his cheek to hold his chin as deep blue eyes grabbed his and held them.  Something twisted in his middle at the gentle, unmistakable warmth there.  “You can do whatever you want.  Anything.”  Gourry smiled gentle heat at the caught chimera.  “And when you finally can’t think of anything, I’ll just do my best to make you as happy as it’s possible to be.  Til then,” he grinned and lay back on the bed, arms behind his head, “you’re free to improvise.”

Yeah, this is a dream.  Real life would never be so perfect.  For a moment Zel ducked his head to stare at his hands, blue stone tracing patterns across the strong, hard chest, so Gourry wouldn’t see his face.  He felt stilled inside with shock, and somewhere a small, chipped object that he identified as his heart was throbbing and aching with muted anguish.  Dammit.  I told myself I wouldn’t get sucked into this one, but he just had to do that… and I… it hurts… love him…

Helpless to stop it, he fell again. 

 

Purring inside, Xellos moved a little closer to the inn.  The lustful, intense love actually served as a piquant spice for the appetizer, a low-level unhappiness and confusion from the blonde mercenary, and the main meal was enough to make up for any pain to the mazoku.  He had never depended on this reaction from the chimera, but he could have guessed it would go this way – the idiot would assume anything incredible that happened to him had to be a dream.  Thus the hopeless, painful flavor to his love that made it a delicacy, and the despair that shadowed every kiss was typically delicious.  Zelas-sama, the meal’s starting a little earlier than I thought!  Enjoy!

 

Morning was a lovely color, the Trickster Priest thought cheerfully, head tilted back to watch the violet-tinged clouds as the sun rose.  Silver mist rose from the trees and wisped in graceful curves like his Master’s silk scarves.

Of course, he was well aware that there were plenty of people who disagreed with him on the topic of morning’s agreeableness, but they needed sleep, and when they didn’t get it they were cranky.  He didn’t need sleep, and he was only cranky when he wanted to be.

Zelgadis Greywyrs, for instance, he continued his train of thought a moment later, standing before the entwined pair fast asleep in the disheveled bed.  Zelgadis tended to be even more quick-tempered than usual when he didn’t get enough sleep, and considering what he’d been up to for most of the last night, he definitely would need more sleep than he was ever going to get this morning.  Unless, of course, he had some help from a kind friend.

Smiling, Xellos held out a hand and laid a gentle sleep spell on the exhausted chimera.  There!  Now he wouldn’t be woken up by an inconsiderate bedmate who might be loud getting dressed, or even try to wake him up!  Amethyst eyes opened to gaze down at the bed’s occupants for just a moment before Xellos chuckled and disappeared.

 

Zel opened bleary eyes to a morning far too full of light.  Groaning, he rolled over and buried his face under his pillow, then had to deal with the flurry of feathers when his hair stuck through the cloth and ripped it.  Some days even staying in bed wouldn’t help.

The sunlight streaming in the open window was too bright and plentiful to belong to early morning, and he foggily realized he must have overslept.  Some muddled impulse made him glance across the bed, but of course the other side was empty.  Why had something suggested it might be different…?  He shook the puzzling thought away.

Muttering sleepy incoherencies under his breath, the chimera untangled the covers from his legs and levered himself off the mattress, stumbling toward the chair he’d set his clothes on.  A moment later he paused with his pants halfway on.  He had set his clothes there, hadn’t he?  Why couldn’t he remember it?

Why did he remember…  Grasping after it, he pulled his pants the rest of the way on, then froze as the sleep-fog cleared and the night came back to him.  Gourry.  He set – no, I dreamed he set my clothes there.  And then he.  And we.  Oh.  That had been, definitely, the most realistic dream he’d had yet.  But if it had been real, Gourry would still be here – I don’t think he’d be the type to run away in the morning.

It still felt real, though.  Which would explain why it hurt so much.

Stolidly trying to ignore the persistant ache at his core, Zelgadis slowly finished dressing with his back to the rumpled bed and left the room, heading down to breakfast and coffee, which he desperately needed.

Behind him, sunlight glinted on one long golden hair where it wound out from beneath the tangled sheet on the other side of the bed.

 

Lunch was over, and Zel wandered away from Amelia and Lina as they both lay quiescent on the sleeping Swordsman of Light.  All three were well-fed and not likely to budge anytime soon, and he desperately needed some time to himself.

Gourry hadn’t acted any differently than usual towards him all day – perfectly friendly as always, of course, but now it wasn’t enough.  Naturally, since nothing had happened last night except for a stupid dream, he expected nothing else, but – it was like the damn dream had managed to turn up all the stuff he’d kept mostly buried for so long, and now he couldn’t ignore it anymore.  From breakfast onward he’d subtly avoided the blonde swordsman, staying away from him, not speaking to him unless necessary and never looking in his eyes.  The old wound was open and bleeding, no need to stress it.

 It was just another dream.  An incredible dream, but no more.  I have to stop thinking so much, wondering about it will kill me.  Gourry isn’t, and he wouldn’t, and he doesn’t.

But it was so real.  He was so… It wasn’t the same as the other dreams, it was… detailed, and… original… and…

“You’re blushing, Zelgadis,” commented a voice from the branches of the tree he was leaning against, and he leaped away with a curse, glowering up at the Trickster Priest.  Xellos landed lightly in front of him, smiling, as usual.

“Of course it was a dream, Zelgadis-san.  Just like all the others, just one more cute little wish-fulfillment.  Maybe with a little extra spice added to make it more interesting, but can you blame me?”  The mazoku shrugged, stepping forward, putting him almost face to face with Zel, who swayed backward.  “Watching the same naïve, virginal dreams night after night… It gets a little boring, ne?”  He took another step forward and the chimera involuntarily stepped back as the space between them narrowed, eyes slitting in fury.

“You watch my dreams?  You changed them?!”  His voice was a growl, hands flexing in the desire to strangle and maim.

“Mm-hmm.  Oh, and the other ones too.  It was cute for a while, watching what you dreamed about me – you were so innocent, it was really quite amusing.”  Smiling, Xellos shook his head as Zel flushed and ground his teeth, fists clenched and pale-knuckled.  “But after the first few versions of the same thing, it got a little dull, so I lent a hand on occasion – figuratively speaking, of course!”  One hand behind his head, Xellos chuckled as Zel’s face flamed and he glowered death.  “Not that you minded, I think.  Eh, Zel-kun?”

“Mind!” Zel snarled, enraged, “Of course I mind!  Leave my dreams alone, you sneaking demon wretch!”

“Why should I?  Your dreams don’t leave me alone, why should I leave them?”  Smile gone at last, the Trickster Priest frowned innocent puzzlement at him.  “Besides, I was there, watching, Zelgadis, so I know how much you enjoyed them.  Don’t you remember?”  He leaned closer and murmured details from one particularly heated scene until the chimera grabbed the front of his shirt, lifting him off the ground, and threw him a distance away, growl throbbing deep in his throat like an angry panther.

Naturally Xellos landed on his feet.  “Yes, I thought you would remember that.”  He was smiling again, sounding altogether too amused for Zel’s taste.

“Of course I remember it, I’m not Gourry,” he growled, trying to get rid of the vivid images from said dream.  The priest had been sprawled across emerald moss, plum-dark hair a shining fan around his head, amethyst eyes wanton and pleading on his.  Then Zel realized what he’d just said and winced in dismay.  There was no way the mazoku would let an opportunity like that slip by him.

Xellos’ smile widened as he paced forward.  “No.  You’re not, are you, Zelgadis.”  As the chimera narrowed his eyes in suspicion, tensing, he took another step forward, putting them face to face as Zel stepped quickly back, directly into a tree.  The smile was only a little broader than it usually was, disturbingly normal, as if nothing was different from the norm and he didn’t have Zel pinned against a tree in the woods.

Rolling his eyes, tired of the theatrics, Zel glared.  “What do you want, Xellos?”

Amethyst eyes opened and glinted purple fire into his as the smile finally shifted its tone, twisting into something dangerous and hot.  “You, of course, Zelgadis-san.”

Zel blinked, completely and totally at a loss.  “What?”

“Come now, Zel-kun, your hearing is very good!  I – want – you.”

This had to be another dream, that was all there was to it – but he was awake, he knew he was.  His hands had somehow crept behind him, trying to burrow through the tree, and beneath his fingertips as they pressed into the trunk, the bark was rough and crumbled into dust under pressure.  If he could have thought of something to say, he would’ve said it, if his throat wasn’t immobile and dry with shock, but his mind seemed to have frozen up, this last blow to his sense of reality stalling it perhaps permanently.

“So, Zel-kun?  Do you want me?”  Xellos’ hands went to the tree on either side of his head, completing the odd trapped feeling that was beginning to grow in his chest, setting his heart pounding like a bird battering its wings against the walls to escape.  He didn’t want to hold the mazoku’s gaze, it was too bright and hot, and his eyes flicked from one side to the other, searching for someplace harmless to rest.

“No,” he managed after a moment, husking through his dry throat.  “I want Gourry.”  He could’ve wished for more confidence in his voice…

“You see, Zelgadis, there is one example of how you differ from the jellyfish.”  That quirked smile was merciless, and he could feel the amethyst eyes burning on his own even as he carefully avoided meeting them.  “Gourry is at least honest.  He is also as brainless as a rock – well, most rocks – ” Zel’s gaze finally snapped to meet his, glaring lances of fire, and one corner of the smile twitched slightly.  “But at least he’s not afraid to admit what he feels.  He’s not a coward, Zelgadis.”

The chimera’s eyes narrowed with rage again and his hands clenched to fists.  “Are you calling me a coward?”

“Why Zel-kun!  Did I say that?”  Suddenly the Trickster Priest’s eyes were hidden again, his smile back to normal, and his expression one of wounded innocence as he stood back from the tree.  “I only said Gourry-san isn’t one.  So.  If you don’t want me, how do you explain all those dreams of me, Zelgadis-san?”

Zel shrugged and looked away from him, feeling his cheeks go hot again.  His stomach twisted with a sick combination of anger, shame, despair and lust.  “Don’t ask me.  Dreams don’t mean anything – and you said yourself you were messing with mine.”

“Mm, yes,” the priest admitted, cupping his chin in a thoughtful hand.  “I did say that, but I had watched them without interfering for some time before that.  And I believe anyone you ask will be able to tell you what that particular kind of dream means, Zel-kun.  Which would mean…”  His smile broadened once more and he put one hand on his hip, bright and happy.  “You do want me!”

Zel rolled his eyes and looked away again.  “Flatter yourself all you like, priest, but it’s Gourry I really want.”

Head cocked to one side, the mazoku looked injured.  “Zel-kun, I’m hurt.  Besides, you know he’ll never want you the same way.”

Sharp wire hair caught in the bark as Zel leaned his head back against the tree, closing his eyes.  “Yes.  I know.”

“After all, you’re an inhuman monster, and he’s the Swordsman of Light.”

Eyes like flat slate snapped open to a slitted glare and the chimera’s fingers went into claws again.  “Who are you to call me inhuman, namagomi!”

“Takes one to know one, they say!” the priest chirped.  “After all, how could anyone with eyes ever find that skin attractive, the lumpy grey-green bits, the way they cluster… nobody could like hair that could scratch their eyes out – ”

Xellos flew backwards with an enraged chimera on top of him, hands fastened at his throat.  They landed with a ground-denting thud, whereupon Zel continued to try to strangle his antagonist.  This may or may not have been working before the mazoku vanished, to reappear kneeling on Zel’s back as the chimera crouched on knees and elbows.  “Except for me, of course,” he mused.

Seething, Zel craned his neck around to glare up at him, twisting to try to throw him off.  The Trickster Priest was incredibly light, but for some reason Zelgadis couldn’t move enough to free himself.  “Get off me!” he finally snarled.

“But then you’d tackle me again!”  He sounded surprised and innocent, playing that irritating persona to the hilt, and it was making the chimera sick.

“No I wouldn’t.  I’d walk back to the others and wake them up so we could leave.”

“Well in that case I certainly can’t let you go!  I want you here with me, so I can get to know you better.”  The twist of double-meaning in his voice was meant to be caught by Zel’s tuned ears, and he shook his head in disgust.

“Xellos, stop playing games.  You don’t want me, you just want to play with my head.”

“Now that is where you’re wrong.”  His voice changed, dark and serious, and one gloved hand reached around, grabbed Zel’s chin firmly, and pulled his head around to meet blazing amethyst eyes.  “I do want you.  I want to see you writhe, longing for my touch.  I want to feel you hard and helpless under me.  I want to hear you scream my name so loud Lina and the others wake up and wonder what’s going on.  That is what a mazoku can enjoy.  And meanwhile I will show you such ecstasy as you have never known.”

…Oh shit.  Trapped in the Trickster Priest’s amethyst glare, Zelgadis felt oddly numb.  He couldn’t feel his legs, his fingers were nerveless, and his head was buzzing and floaty.  He also couldn’t think of a better reaction than the one he’d already thought of, and his mind kept on repeating that over and over in a panicked sing-song.  Shit, shit, damn, shit.  I.  Am in.  Such trouble.

The problem was, while Zel knew he didn’t like the mazoku, hated him sometimes in fact, and often longed to beat him senseless, he also remembered very clearly what it had felt like in those dreams when Xellos had touched him, what that pale form had looked like twisting in pleasure.  If Xellos really wanted him that much in real life… and he’d been messing with Zel’s dreams – wasn’t it likely that they’d been pretty realistic?  As much as he didn’t want to think about it, he couldn’t deny that he was presently… starting to be… aroused.

He really didn’t want to think about it.  Because he was also in love with Gourry.  Who would never in his life even think about returning the favor.  Whereas…

Shit.  I don’t believe I’m turned on just by the namagomi saying he wants me.

He wanted Xellos.  Only physically; he hated the priest and the way he manipulated everything into happening just the way he wanted it to – but he also couldn’t ignore the mazoku’s incredible physical beauty.

Speaking of which, why the hell does he want me?

Opening his mouth to ask the question, Zel suddenly realized that the Trickster Priest had taken advantage of his distraction to remove both of their cloaks – how he’d gotten Zel’s off without moving from his back was a mystery – and was now working on the chimera’s belt.  “Hey!  Get off that,” he snapped, grabbing for it just as it slithered free.

“What’s the matter, Zel-kun?” came the innocent question as clever fingers moved on to the waist of his pants.

“Just a minute,” he growled, grabbing Xellos’ wrists, pulled them away and twisted around, pulling the priest off his back to glare at him face to face.  “What do you think you’re doing, Xellos?”

“Taking off your clothes, Zelgadis-san.”

 Ask a stupid question.  “Yes, I noticed that.  You don’t expect me to believe that you actually want to… you actually want me,” he could feel the flush creeping up his cheeks, dammit, why couldn’t his damn skin be opaque?  “Without some ulterior motive?”

“I certainly don’t dictate your beliefs, Zel-kun, but I do want you.”  For a change Xellos’ pointed face was serious.  “My reasons are many, but I could begin with an appreciation for your face, your frame, your lovely habit of turning violent at small provocation – ”

Zel scowled and immediately sat on his automatic impulse, which was to launch the mazoku on a tour to the nearest treetop.  “And I should trust you why?”

“Trust me?”  Plum eyebrows raised behind the purple curtain of his bangs.  “Did I say you had to trust me, Zelgadis-san?”

He gave the priest a flat look.  “If I don’t trust you, I have no reason to let you anywhere near me, do I?”

“Of course you do!  I have no interest in harming you, and I have a great deal of interest in making you feel things you’ve never felt before.”  Here Xellos’ voice slid from his usual chirp to a low purr that did odd things to Zel’s stomach, and then he was distracted as the priest knelt up and leaned forward without bothering to free his hands.  Treated to a sudden close up of the delicate features as they invaded his personal space, Zel automatically leaned backwards until he lost his balance and fell over.

Disconcerted not in the least, Xellos took this golden opportunity to pin him to the ground and kiss him.  Zelgadis naturally did not take at all kindly to this and punched him into the nearest treetrunk… or would have tried to, anyway.  Unfortunately, he seemed to be short of breath, brain-power, and motor skills at the moment, and by the time the mazoku finally let up, Zel found himself lacking any ability or inclination to movement whatsoever. 

While Xellos looked cheerful and pleased with himself, he lay there panting and desperately trying to summon his last outreaches of self-control and will-power.  He would not be seduced by a mazoku who had uncertain motives, whom he disliked whenever he was in his right mind, which was definitely not right now, when the man he was in love with would never in his dreams even consider…  Xellos was taking off his boots, Zelgadis realized, and managed a twitch of protest.  “You do realize I haven’t agreed to this.”

“Don’t be silly, of course you have.”  Two sets of pale gloves were tossed a few feet away to land on top of their cloaks.  “If you hadn’t, you’d have exploded, attempted physical injury with much greater persistence, and then left.”

Mouth open in outrage, Zel looked for an argument and shut his mouth when he started to feel silly.  The truth was, life hurt too much right now, he needed something to distract him, and Xellos looked to be admirable for the purpose.  He’d wanted the mazoku forever, however twisted it might be, and Gourry wasn’t going to wake up and cry an oath of undying love for him any time soon, so it wasn’t like he had anything to lose.

A moment later he was wondering if he should reevaluate that assumption.  Xellos had stripped off both his own shirt and Zel’s, and proceeded to chew on the chimera’s bare collarbone a little less than gently while his fingers wandered around pebbled ribs and abdomen.  That hurt!  Could a mazoku’s teeth bite through stone?  Then the question was lost in a haze of pleasure as the Trickster Priest began nibbling more gently, mouthing a meandering path over one shoulder, down the side of his chest.  Zel’s breath shuddered and he twisted uncomfortably against the ground as his pants tightened.

I don’t believe I’m letting him do this.  Xellos.  He’s a miserable manipulative slippery bastard of a mazoku, and I’m trusting his teeth on my skin?  I mean, it’s not like anyone else will ever try, but still – I’m this desperate?  That’s pretty  pathetic… Ohhhh.

Zel caught his breath and shivered hard as cool, slender fingers slipped under the waist of his pants and stroked down.  In a violent twitch, a last-ditch effort at self-control, he grabbed the mazoku’s shoulders and shoved up hard enough that Xellos should have tumbled off him, but slim hands clamped onto his wrists like steel cuffs and slammed them back to the ground.  Snarling furiously, the chimera struggled, yanking at the hold until the pale fingers should’ve snapped, but they moved not a fraction.

“Hold still,” Xellos purred through his teeth.  “If you’re going to keep on struggling, I’ll just have to secure you so you can’t.  Keep pulling and you might hurt yourself.”  He let go of Zel’s wrists and went back to undoing his pants.

Growling, Zel attempted to move his hands and discovered that the mazoku had done something to them.  He could only see a faint smudge of grey smoke at the wrists, but it felt like they’d been locked to the ground.  “Damn you, what did you do?!”

Amethyst eyes opened and gave him a sardonic look.  “I told you.  I’m not interested in a wrestling match just now.  I’m looking for a different kind of exercise.”

“You can’t just tie me down like this!  Being bound and unable to move is not my idea of enjoyment!”

“Are you sure?”  Suddenly the purple eyes were very close to his, and then a hot, demanding mouth fastened onto his and thinking was no longer an option, much less protesting.  He was still furious, but under the influence of that much skill there really wasn’t that much opposition he could offer.  After some time his resistance wore down enough that he moaned and pressed up into the slender body atop his, aware that he was being completely humiliated but unable to stop.

Pulling back at last, Xellos chuckled satisfaction and the chimera flushed and glowered, looking away.  His heart was going like an avalanche, his breathing rasped harsh in his ears, and he was shaking.  He desperately needed more, but he was damned if he’d ask for it.  Hot streaks of want snaked through his stomach, twisted out from his groin and made his hips twitch involuntarily.  Gods I hate you…

With a dark smile, the priest ducked to nibble softly on one sharp, stony hip, fingers tugging the cloth away and down.  Gasping, Zel arched as the last of his clothes pulled across throbbing, sensitive stone, then collapsed with a grating moan as clever fingers found the center of his distress.  Hate you, hate you hate you gods don’t stop…

Xellos laughed quietly, one hand toying with the length of smooth rock, the other sliding up to rub hard across a blue nipple.  Throwing his head back, the chimera made a quiet noise deep in his throat, then cried out as the lower hand tightened and twisted.  He could feel the edge getting closer, closer than it should be at this point, and frantically grasped after his lost, so-vaunted self-control.  It was nowhere to be found.

The swirling cloud of heat and pleasure curled tighter around him, and then abruptly faded back as sharp pain shot through his chest, and Zel yelped, head snapping up to see the cause.  Amethyst eyes glinting evilly into his, the priest was leaning over his chest, teeth fastened in one nipple, fingers twisting the other cruelly.  Meanwhile his other hand was stroking featherlight down below, creating a juxtaposition of sensation that made Zelgadis groan aloud even as he glared death at his tormenter.

“Xellos, if you don’t – ah! cut that out, I’m… aaanhh…I’ll…hhh…”  Grinning, the Trickster Priest sucked gently on the bitten nipple, stroking a little harder below as his tongue flicked softly back and forth over the abused flesh.

Damn.  I’m lost, he thought hazily.  The hot, talented mouth moved to the other nipple to soothe the ache and both hands pulled away to run up Zel’s sides to his shoulders.  Well-manicured fingernails raked across his collarbones and down his chest, running over pebbles and bony spots without pause while Zel hissed through his teeth.  Damn mazoku had strong nails. 

Xellos pulled back, sat up and let his eyes trace the dissheveled, mostly-naked chimera, one finger lazily drawing circles on his abdomen, running from one flat pebble to another as Zel glared.  The priest looked so damn smug, sitting there with Zel tied on the ground at a total disadvantage – he really wanted to knock him flat on his ass and wipe the smile off his face… one way or another…

Growling, he jerked at the smoke-bonds on his wrists, struggling out of sheer annoyance.  “Dammit, Xellos, get me out of this!  Tied up I can still cast well enough to singe you!”

“Why, Zelgadis-san!  Threats?  Amelia would be so disappointed in you.”

“What, for being tied up and stripped?  No, I think she’d actually get on the case of the real aggressor.”

“Ahh,” said the mazoku softly.  “Is that what I am?  Are you the victim, Zel-kun?”

“Looks like it, doesn’t it.”

“Well then,” he murmured, eyes glinting, “why don’t you start acting the part?” 

Zel stopped pulling at his wrists, staring at the Trickster Priest.  Something in his eyes had just changed, and it made the chimera feel more uneasy than he had since this whole affair had started… and he did wish he’d thought of a different word to describe it…

“What do you mean?”  He gave the glowing eyes a slitted, suspicious look.

“Exactly what I said, Zelgadis-san.  It’s time for you to stop pretending you don’t like this, and start behaving like a good little victim.”  Zel would probably have bristled at this, except that he was distracted by the disturbing look in the mazoku’s eyes.  He didn’t feel like struggling anymore, or moving at all, in fact.  He felt like holding very, very still, and hoping the predatory light in the mazoku’s eyes disappeared.  It looked like the gleam in a spider’s many eyes when it has just noticed a juicy bluebottle absently bumble into its web.

Clearing his throat, he reminded himself that Xellos had never shown any inclination to hurt any of Lina’s companions before and he would undoubtedly come out of this intact – unless the mazoku’s orders had changed since or something…  Hastily he shoved this thought aside.  “What are you talking about, Xellos?  I’m not playing some stupid part for you to enjoy, get me out of this!”

“Ohh, no, Zel-kun,” he said softly.  “You won’t be playing a part.  You’ll be the real thing.  Now, shut up.”  He bared his teeth in a smile and the chimera tensed, tried to bluster something, and found that his jaws were stuck a little open, his tongue glued to the bottom of his mouth as if he were gagged.  Even so, the rumbling snarl in response to this development wasn’t garbled in the least.

“There we are.”  Xellos chuckled, pulling Zel’s pants off the rest of the way and tossing them on top of the other clothing.  “Now.”

The smug, amused little glint before he closed his eyes again was the only warning the chimera had as purple hair like cool, heavy air brushed down his chest and he shivered hard.  Then moist heat enveloped his aching cock and Zel arched, clamping down on his voice with the last of his will so only a gasp escaped.

Delicate hands stroked the insides of his thighs with the lightest of touches as the mazoku’s clever tongue swirled around his length, swiped up the underside and circled the ridge.  Eyes frozen wide open, the chimera hyperventilated, unable to keep from trembling as he swore to himself that he would not shriek, no matter what.  Unfortunately Xellos seemed determined to break his resolve.  When that tongue finally flicked over his tip, caressing the slit there, Zelgadis couldn’t choke back his voice anymore and resigned himself to an earsplitting yell.  It came out worse.

His vocal cords took control, there was a catch of breath and then… a whimper.  A small, breathy moan in an embarrassingly high register, followed shortly by another one.  As the priest moved one pale hand from his thigh to work somewhat below Xellos’ mouth, lightly brushing the tender, heavy sacs there, Zel listened in horror as his voice responded with relish.  Completely humiliating sounds slipped from his throat in a steady stream, little broken moans and cries, and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it.

“Oh, you do like that, don’t you, Stone-boy,” the priest purred.

Zel growled outrage and twitched.

Time blended together for a little while as he felt the brink getting closer and closer until he could feel it in his teeth about to sweep forward – and Xellos stopped.  In complete and utter disbelief, the chimera opened his eyes, snarling a continuous non-verbal threat, then thrashed as the still hand at the base of his shaft abruptly tightened.  Choked back, that tantilizing edge pulled away, almost back to where it had been and Zelgadis gritted his teeth, feeling stretched to his limit and beyond.  Damn you priest, stop teasing me!  You’ve tricked me into this, hounded and pestered and insulted me, not to mention humiliated, the least you can do is give me satisfaction!

“Ah, Zelgadis-kun.  Do you think I’m teasing you?  Do you want more?”  He smiled at the smouldering glare in return.  “Just nod if you want me to stop teasing and do something more… substantial.”

Zel twitched again, glowering up at him.  Xellos chuckled quietly – of course he knew the kind of humiliation his captive was feeling right now, the chimera thought irritably.  It was probably dessert.

He had the choice – admit he needed more, ask for it, and receive… or stand on his pride and suffer.  For a lengthy time, no doubt, before the mazoku chose to grant him mercy, if he didn’t just leave him there in the end tied up and squirming in unfulfillment.

Girding himself against the helpless snapping and snarling of his chained pride, he tilted his chin sharply up and then down again, glaring for all he was worth.  Then he stared in disturbance as the purple eyes opened once more and the smile widened to that gleaming, predatory look again.  Plum hair flared as the priest dropped his head to engulf smooth blue rock again and suckle for a moment – taken by surprise, Zel moaned hoarsely.

Then he yelped and twisted in discomfort as an unexpected finger entered him below, shoving past the resistent stone to push inside him.  A second long finger joined the first and pulled away from it, stretching him uncomfortably, and he growled, twisting back and forth on the ground at the unpleasant feeling.

The fingers moved apart once more, then pulled out.  Xellos grabbed his knees and shoved them up by his chest, grinning – he glared through slitted, suspicious eyes at the mazoku, breathing hard – and the priest abruptly brought his own hips forward, sending a sheet of hot, startling pain ripping through Zel, shattering his last hold on his voice.  A choked cry shredded his throat and he gasped for breath, digging his fingers hard into the ground, trying to stop the world spinning, get back his senses.  Distantly he knew he was furious, rage was growing somewhere at the base of his skull and when this was over he’d be able to kill the mazoku with a single look.  But at the moment he couldn’t think; he could only concentrate on his breathing and try to ride out the pain. 

Xellos moved inside him in a slow, steady rhythm, mask-like smile back again, eyes opaque.  Zel couldn’t seem to catch his breath, panting in shuddering gasps, and he was aware that his broken snarls were interspersed with sounds almost like sobs and choked moans, but he didn’t have much concentration to spare minor details.  The priest was inside him, hard and harsh and too big, rubbing him raw and aching, and that occupied all his attention.

Gradually the stretched, burning feeling at least subsided, and then rough hands under his thighs pushed them up farther, hooking Zel’s legs over pale shoulders, and he shuddered, moaning as the mazoku slammed deeper yet inside him.  Something twinged oddly there, sending out shocks of pleasure under his skin, and the chimera gasped and twisted.

Xellos chuckled darkly above him, slamming into the same spot again, and again, and Zel writhed as sweet fire bound him, pleasure burning corridors through him, stealing anger, breath, and thought.  Every movement rubbed against that aching place deep in him, and it responded to the touch by sending out showers of hungry sparks, coils of lava threading around his limbs.  Each shift of Xellos’ weight on him drove him closer to the edge, but not close enough.  He was distantly aware of his own voice moaning and crying out with every touch as hot, relentless need engulfed his body, but he could barely remember that the voice was his, much less recall how to control it.

Suddenly the movement ceased, and Zelgadis swam back to his senses to stare dizzily up at the mazoku, who was silently watching him behind that constant smile.

Damn you.  Damn, damn, damn… Please… He would not ask.  He wouldn’t.  He didn’t need to subject himself to that kind of humiliation, he’d already felt enough of it today, he was quite clear on this point.  His body, however, apparently disagreed.  It completely ignored his direct orders and moaned beseechingly, pushing down towards the unmoving priest, straining to rub up against him.  Something moved behind those slit-pupilled eyes, satisfaction flashed in them for just a moment, and Xellos hummed under his breath as he moved in once more, faster this time.

Drowning in sensation, trapped within his own body, Zel pushed into the movement, humiliation hot in his stomach and bitter at the back of his throat, breathing a series of harsh groans as Xellos stabbed that spot over and over and over again.  Lightning snapped along his spine, burning away the last flicker of conscious thought.  There was nothing but sensation, the swell and rush of flame in his blood, under his skin, and Xellos above him, pounding at his senses with the smell of lust, the slam of flesh against yielding stone. 

As the raging fire consumed him at last, pleasure surging like molten steel in the pit of his stomach, he arched up into the mazoku, screaming aloud.  The sweet waves of heat took him, shaking him like a leaf on a storm-wind until he broke, crystalline shards of chimera shattering into glitter and scattered across the numberless planes.

 

Eyes closed once more, Xellos reclined on one elbow beside the slender, unconscious form of Zelgadis, dubiously examining a lit cigarette.  After a moment he shook his head, frowning at it.  “I will never understand why Zelas-sama likes these things…”

Absent-mindedly he reached over and stubbed out the little glowing coal on Zel’s chest, flicked the dead stick away, then stayed on his side, fingers idly drumming on the stone rib-cage, watching the chimera’s eyelids flutter as he slowly drifted back to consciousness. 

“Zelgaaadis-kuun,” he crooned, “wake uu-uuup…”

“unhhh…”  A very faint groan, and then a twitch.  The chimera’s eyes snapped open and he tensed as he discovered that his wrists were held immobile – Xellos hadn’t bothered to remove the smoke bonds yet.  Sighing, he closed his eyes again, relaxing in unenthusiastic comprehension.

“Xellos, you’ve had your fun, now get these off.”

“Awwww, Zelgadis!  Are you saying you didn’t enjoy yourself?”  The priest gave him a perky pout and he gritted his teeth.

“Yes, in fact, that’s exactly what I’m saying, not that you care.  I do not enjoy being tied up, and I want it to stop!”

“Well, say what you like, Zel-kun, but you can’t ignore the evidence.  I think it’s obvious you enjoyed yourself.”

With deep misgiving, Zel eyed the smirk on the mazoku’s lips.  “What do you – ”

Xellos swept one slender finger across his pebbled abdomen, through the wetness there, and displayed the finger in front of his nose, smiling innocence.  Groaning, Zel closed his eyes, blushing like flame.  God, I’m disgusting – I need to find some water and get clean –

“You see, Zelgadis?”  Mistrustful at the dark, sensuous purr, Zel looked up to find Xellos licking his finger clean.  Slowly.  “I knew you’d enjoy yourself.  Just give up and admit it.”  Then, laughing, the priest faded away.

What the hell?!  Zel stared around him at the clearing, certain the mazoku wouldn’t abandon his prey so easily, but the black cloak and pants lying with his own clothes were gone now, along with the rest of Xellos’ things.  When he tried to move he found that the bands of smoke had vanished as well, and he was free to kneel up, to stand… to freeze and hold very very still as various portions of anatomy protested movement.  He hurt.  And ached and stung, and every other painful adjective he could think of applied somewhere or other.

Cursing the priest with great diligence and attention to detail, Zelgadis moved gingerly over to his clothes and began the painful process of getting dressed.

 

Xellos allowed a touch of real satisfaction into his smile as he walked through the trees toward the chimera’s napping companions.  The episode just past had been thoroughly entertaining, and not entirely what he’d expected.  Originally he’d hoped that Zelgadis might be persuaded into violence, and perhaps taking control of the whole situation on his own – in which case a tattered and abused Xellos could appear before Gourry and play the part of the shocky virgin deflowered by the mercenary’s new lover.  That would’ve been highly amusing, but as it turned out, Zel had been oddly aquiescent to his advances, leaving the chimera wide open to accusations of infidelity.  Of course, Stone-boy had no idea that he had anyone to betray, because in his delusional reality the steamy interlude with the Swordsman of Light last night was a pathetic little wet-dream, but it wasn’t as if Gourry would know that…

 

Gourry woke to see a Xellos he had never seen before.  Cheerful he’d seen often, and innocent, helpful and mild were also common versions, even smug and evil had appeared before, but sincerely worried and apologetic didn’t ring a bell.  Of course, sometimes things had to hit Gourry quite hard before they rang a bell, or even made a metallic clanking noise, but nevertheless this was new.

“Xellos?” he muttered, pulling an arm out from under Amelia to rub his eyes.  “’s it time to go?”

“No, not quite yet, but Gourry-san, I have to talk to you.  It’s about Zel.”

“Zelgadis?”  Gourry frowned confusion at him.  “What about him?”

“I believe you became his lover last night, did you not?”

Gourry gave the mazoku a perfectly blank look.  “Yeah.”

Xellos looked concerned.  “This is not a pleasant thing to have to say, Gourry-san, but you may have made a bad decision.  I just saw him, and apparently he was unsatisfied with whatever happened between you two last night.  I was teasing him, and it seems I went a little too far, because he picked me up, threw me around like a rag doll, and then… well.  He enjoyed himself quite a lot, and I wouldn’t have minded, except of course I knew how you would feel.  I would have tried to stop him, honestly I would have, Gourry-san, but there’s only so much you can do when you’re taken by surprise and bound to the ground.”

“So… he beat you up?”

Xellos sighed and eyed Lina, who twitched in her sleep, throwing out an arm that landed hard across Gourry’s chest.  “No, Gourry-san.  You know what you did with him last night, on the bed, with all the moaning?  That’s what he did.  I thought you ought to be warned, since you said you were in love with him…”

“Warned about what?”

“That he’s unfaithful, Gourry-san,” the priest said gently.  “That it doesn’t matter how much pleasure you give him, he’ll just move on the next day.”

“Oh.  That’s all right, he never said I had all rights to him.”  Cheerful smile intact, blue eyes clear as the sunny sky above, the mercenary relaxed under the two girls while the mazoku watched him thoughtfully.  He could feel the blonde’s pain and confusion and a touch of anger, it had a delicious bouquet and it tasted even better, but for some reason the swordsman was denying their existence, and denying it so skillfully that not an edge of emotion showed on his happy mask of a face.  Not that it mattered to Xellos.

“As you say, Gourry-san, but I think even Amelia would understand if you were angry at him for this.”  Xellos turned and walked away.

 

Something hurt.  The Swordsman of Light considered idly for a while and decided it was his heart.  At least, it might not actually be the organ keeping his blood pumping that was aching like that, but the ache was definitely in that area, so it would do for the moment.

He lay still for a while longer, enjoying the comfortable warmth of the small bodies draped over his like tired kittens, then reluctantly wrenched himself upright.  The two girls grumbled in their sleep as they rolled to the ground.  Lina ended up on top of Amelia, snoring quietly.

Smiling, Gourry looked down at them fondly, adjusted his sword-belt, then set his jaw and strode off into the trees.  Xellos was right; he was owed an explanation.

Ten minutes later he realized he had absolutely no idea where Zelgadis was.  Some time after that he decided maybe he had better turn back, turned around, and realized he had absolutely no idea where he was.  Scratching his head, he moved on in some direction or other, hoping to see something useful…

 

“Zelgadis.”  Snarling, the chimera whirled to glare at Xellos, who affected hurt startlement at his unkind reception. 

“What?” he growled.

“I just thought you might like to know,” the priest said politely, “that Gourry is lost over in that direction.  If you want to be moving on before day after tomorrow, you might want to go get him.”

Before Zel could inquire suspiciously why he was being so helpful, the mazoku vanished again.  Cursing under his breath, the chimera stalked off after the stray mercenary.

Shortly a flash of gold through the trees turned out to be Gourry’s hair, and Zel lengthened his stride to catch up before the swordsman disappeared behind the next screen of trees.  Branches snapped and leaves crackled under his steps, and the mercenary turned at the noise as he entered the clearing.

“Zelgadis!  Hi!”

“Hey.  You’re going the wrong way.  Camp’s that way.”

“Oh!  Eh-heh.”  He stood there with one hand behind his head, grinning that foolish, sunny grin, and Zel felt something in his chest creak painfully.  Whirling on his heel, the chimera strode away from him, back to the camp, anything to stop hurting.

“Hey, Zel, wait up!”  Quick steps behind him caught up fast as Gourry used his longer legs to good advantage.  “Actually, I was looking for you.”

“For me?”  Zel frowned at him.  “Why?”

“Well, Xellos told me what happened earlier, and I was just wondering why.”  The cheerful expression didn’t alter, the smile didn’t dim a notch, there was just something about the eyes that was a little funny…

Zel was too busy staring and turning bright red to notice.  “He… told you?  About what?”

“What you and he did.  This afternoon.”

“And you were just… wondering… why.”

“Yeah!”

Swallowing, Zelgadis began to consider how many ways one could torture a mazoku to death.  Not many came to mind, but he was sure once he’d spent several weeks on the problem he’d come up with more inventive methods.  “It seemed like a reasonable idea at the time,” he muttered.  Not that it’s the alternative I’ll choose next time, believe me.  If I’d known he was going to tie me up, he’d never have gotten that close in the first place…

“Ah.”  That was an expression he didn’t think he’d ever seen before – still smiling, but almost set.

He didn’t want to continue this line of conversation, but he had to know.  “Why’d you want to know?”

Broad shoulders shrugged slightly.  “I didn’t know you liked casual flings.”

“I don’t,” he said shortly.  It was that, or be celebate for the rest of my life…

“Then why?”

“What business is it of yours?!” Zel snapped, the more bitter for wishing it was Gourry’s business.

The Swordsman of Light stopped dead.  Zelgadis stalked on a moment before turning to see why.  His eyes widened.

Gourry wasn’t smiling anymore.  Flat blue eyes like slate held the chimera’s gaze, cold and steady.  “It is my business, Zelgadis.  I thought you wanted more than a one-night stand, and since you didn’t, I have to change what I was thinking.”

Something shifted in Zel’s stomach.  Confused and uneasy, he shook his head and growled, “What the hell are you talking about!”

Sunlight broke through the canopy above them and struck gold sparks off his shifting mane.  The Swordsman of Light stood inadvertantly looking like some innocent maiden’s dream of a hero, and Zel really wanted to be disgusted about it.  Unfortunately his mouth was dry, his heart was skipping beats, and disgust wasn’t in the picture.

“You,” said the vision quietly.  “It’s true you wouldn’t let me say anything that might sound serious, but I thought it was because you didn’t trust me.  Now I know it was because you weren’t serious.  You could have just said that, you know.”

Feeling dizzy, the chimera shook his head, frowning.  “Gourry, I still have no idea what you’re talking about – I had a weird dream last night – not that you’d care about my dream, but I dreamed you came into my room…”

Gourry frowned.  “Zelgadis, what happened last night?”

He shrugged.  “I had a dream, like I said.  That’s it.”

“What happened in your dream?”  The mercenary was looking oddly neutral, as if hiding some emotion or mixture of them behind a blank face.  It looked much more intelligent than his typical cheerful expression.  Zel found it deeply disconcerting.

“You came into my room,” he shrugged, trying desperately not to blush.  “We talked…”

“You ended up on the bed while I stripped your clothes off, embarrassed you badly, then made you really happy?”

He said the words as if they were perfectly obvious, Zel noted distantly, through the roaring in his ears.  It didn’t sound as if the head of a certain chimera was about to go at the top of the Sword of Light’s to-do list…

“Xellos told you, didn’t he.”  The gods-cursed mazoku was not going to get away with this.  Enough was enough.  He’d had it up to here with the scrawny, manipulative, squinty-eyed demon-spawn and his sneaky tricks, his truths and his twists and his unexpected pain.

“No.”  Something was moving behind that blank face, but Zelgadis couldn’t guess what.  “Xellos told me about the ones before that.  Last night I went to your room to see if it was true.  That wasn’t a dream, Zel.”

He blinked.  His throat felt all tight and hot, and his brain was malfunctioning.

“It had to’ve been,” he croaked, and cleared his throat.  “That never would’ve happened in real life, right?  Because you wouldn’t actually…”  Catching his breath, he choked on a shred of panic and started coughing.  After a moment he managed to breathe in and remembered an important point.  “No!  It had to be a dream, because the bed was empty again this morning!  Either it was a dream, or you’re a bloody bastard,” he added, rolling his eyes, then giving the mercenary an uneasy second look.  For once, the swordsman didn’t look as if that was completely beyond him.  “Not only that, you acted the same as any other day this morning!” he said triumphantly.  “You weren’t… looking at me any different, doing anything like that.”  Now why had he thought that was a good thing, just now?

“How would you know?” asked the mercenary quietly.  “You didn’t look at me all morning.  You never met my eyes.  Zel, I tried to wake you up when I got up, but you didn’t even twitch.  Didn’t you notice how late you slept?”

“I… yeah, I did…”  Maybe tonight he wouldn’t go to sleep.  If he didn’t sleep, he didn’t dream, and all the problems in his life lately seemed to come from one or the other.  “You’re not telling me that you slept,” his voice cracked dramatically and he cleared his throat.  “That last night… you came and slept with me?”

The mercenary nodded.  “It was fun,” he added.  “I was looking forward to doing it again.”  He shrugged.  “But then I guessed not.  Now… You thought it was a dream, huh.”

Numb, Zelgadis nodded.  It was all real.  Gourry came and slept with me last night, and I let Xellos touch me?  I let him push me down and mock me and do that to me when it wasn’t a dream?  Gourry came to me last night, and then I betrayed him because I didn’t know… Would he lend me his sword if I asked really nicely, I wonder?

“So did you want it to be a dream?  You were just looking for a one-night stand?”

“I wasn’t looking for anything,” he said quietly.  “It was a dream.”

A long blue stare.  “And now that it wasn’t?”

He looked away, tilting his head so wiry bangs slipped over his eyes.  “Why did you come after me, Gourry?  Looking for revenge?”

“No.”  There was movement at the corner of his eye, large hands grabbed his shoulders and wrenched him around, and before he could wince in expectation he found himself being kissed. 

Warm rough lips moved hard on his, a fierce tongue pressed for entrance into his mouth, and all thought left his mind like leaves before a gale.  Relaxing muscle by cautious muscle, he tentatively began to kiss back, slowly leaning toward the hard lean body.  A faint growl from the mercenary rumbled against his lips and Zel moaned softly, arms wrapping around the broad chest as he pressed into Gourry.

Finally the grip on his arms lessened and the hungry mouth over his moved back, reluctantly making room for air, although Zel dizzily considered that the practice of breathing, in comparison, might be highly overrated.

“I was looking for an understanding,” the swordsman rasped.  “And I think I found it.  What really happened with you and Xellos?”

Hoping he wasn’t blushing again, Zelgadis uncomfortably studied Gourry’s breastplate.  “What’d he tell you?”

“He told me you threw him around, tied him to the ground and screwed him,” the mercenary said baldly.  “Knowing you, I had my doubts.”

Zel snorted faintly at this, feeling sick.  “I didn’t know he would lie outright, thought it was against his job standards or something.  I did throw him around some, but he was trying to provoke me and doing it pretty well.  As usual.  And he was the one who started taking off my clothes, and he was not the one tied to the ground.”

“He tied you up?”  Gold brows drew down.

The chimera shrugged, pulling back from him, eyes elsewhere.  “Guess he didn’t want me running away.  He said if I really didn’t want it, I would’ve tried harder to hurt him, struggled more.”

“You’re the one who decides if you want it,” the Swordsman of Light said tightly.

“Well, glad you think so.”  He turned away and started walking.  “Come on, let’s get back.”

A fingerless blue glove wrapped around his bicep, halting him.  “Zel.  What did he do to you?”

“Tied me up and fucked me, what did you think?!” he snapped.

“Did he hurt you?”

Zel tried to shake off the hand, but it was like trying to pry up a treeroot.  “What the hell does it matter?  I asked for what I got, he gave it to me, I’m some kind of pervert, now forget about it!”

“Why are you a pervert?”

“Will you forget about it already!”

“No.”  The other hand grabbed him, they spun him around, and suddenly he was off-balance facing the Swordsman of Light, whose eyes were an intense blazing blue.  “Did you enjoy it?”

“What the hell business is it of yours!?” he growled, aching.  He couldn’t meet those blue eyes, they wanted to look too deeply into him, and he couldn’t afford that kind of vulnerability here.

The swordsman sounded supremely annoyed.  “If you liked what he did to you, I need to know so I can either leave you alone to go back to him or do the same!  If he hurt you, I have to know so I won’t make that mistake!  Clear enough for you?”

For some reason his vocal cords didn’t want to work.  Zelgadis rasped his throat clear and took a breath.  “Yeah,” he managed huskily.  Then the whole damn tangle of confusion from the past day and a half slammed up into his chest and he threw himself across the foot between them in a very short-distance tackle.  Gourry staggered, caught his balance, and wrapped his arms tight around the chimera, who seemed to be trying to press himself through the mercenary’s armor.  Smoothing wire hair back with one gloved hand, the swordsman planted a gentle kiss on his forehead.

Zel held very still, wondering if it was possible to fall asleep in the middle of the day without noticing it.  Except if he went with that theory, how much of the day had been a dream?  If Xellos had been a dream, then he’d never really told Zel that he was messing with his dreams, and if he wasn’t messing, then why was this so realistic?

If I’m dreaming, I better not wake up.  I will kill myself this time.

“Will you let me say it this time?” said the mercenary’s quiet voice into his hair.

“Say what?” he said, still distracted by trying to puzzle out reality.

“I love you, Zel.”

The chimera went absolutely stiff in his arms, then silently started to cry.  Nerves stretched taut as spun glass had finally taken the opportunity to break.  Well, since I’m acting like an idiot, this is probably not a dream any more than last night was.  I’m sure his feelings will just last forever if I drown them every time they show up…

Strong arms cradled him, rocked him gently on his feet as he laid his head on Gourry’s shoulder, wet face pressed into his neck.  “Zel, shhh, you knew that already, remember?  Is it such a shock?  Did you not want me to be in love with you?”

Clearing his throat, Zelgadis managed to drag self-control back into place and started trying to dry his face on the mercenary’s shoulder-guards.  That wasn’t going to work.  He pulled away, turned his back and started scrubbing his face with his sleeves.  At least his eyes didn’t swell when he cried.

“Fine, it’s fine,” he said gruffly.

“Well… good.”  Gourry sounded a little disheartened.

“We should get back.  It’s this way,” he said, and got two paces before the hand on his arm stopped him again, pulling him around to face Gourry, who looked determined.

“Are you going to stop trying to convince yourself that everything good that happens is a dream?”

“I guess,” if this isn’t a dream, “yeah.”

“All right.  Good.  Now, did you enjoy what Xellos did?”

Zel looked away, letting out a long breath.  Why couldn’t he just drop the whole damn thing?  “Define enjoy.”

Gourry sounded puzzled.  “What do you mean?”

Damn it.  Fine, there go all my chances of getting you for any longer than a night.

Zelgadis pulled his arm away, walked a short way off and crossed his arms, back turned to Gourry.  He tried to look impatient rather than as if he was huddling into himself.  “Do you want to know if it got me off, or if I liked it?”

“Well, I assume it got you off, I mean, it was Xellos, right?  He was trying to make it look like you threw him down and screwed him, so you would have to’ve come, right?  And Xellos is a really good mage, and he’s really really smart, so if he wanted you to, you probably would.  I wanted to know if you liked it.”

Zel tried to rehinge his jaw.  He hadn’t thought about it that way.  He’d figured if he could get off while tied to the ground and in pain, he had to be some kind of serious pervert, but maybe Gourry had a point.  As for his enjoyment…

Did I like it?  Xellos, no warning, much less gentleness?  I don’t appreciate pain, I like my mobility, and I can’t stand being humiliated.

“No,” he said shortly.  “I didn’t.”

There was a long silence.  Zel finally turned to see Gourry watching him, blank-faced.  Unnerved, he shifted his weight.  “What?”

Gourry sighed.  “All right.  Let’s go.”

Uncertain as to what that was about, the chimera led the way back to camp, Gourry’s footsteps behind him.

 

Blissfully unaware of the shellshocked expressions of the inn staff, Gourry settled back in his chair, smiling over a full stomach.  The precarious stacks of dishes swayed slightly at Lina’s gusty sigh.

“I can’t believe they don’t have any more meatballs!”

“I can,” Zel muttered.  Lina looked indignant and he rolled his eyes.  “Between you two and Amelia, you ate fourteen platters of them!  Of course they’re out of meatballs!”

“I had a craving,” the redheaded sorceress muttered sulkily.

Of course, the hormones producing that craving were probably the only reason the offending inn was still standing.  Lina was on her moontime, or the opposite wall would have been turned into char when Gourry grabbed the last porkchop. 

Zel sighed.  He hadn’t tried to talk to Gourry in front of the others, but the few times their eyes met, it seemed like there was something else besides the warm glint there.  He found it a little disturbing that he couldn’t tell what it was.

 

Gourry managed to catch his chimera on the way to Zel’s room, and gently bodyblocked him into a wall.  Flush high on his cheeks, visible eye wide on Gourry’s, breathing a little fast, Zelgadis was beautiful.  The mercenary just wished there was some way to make him believe it.

He brushed the sharp lilac wires out of the way with one gloved hand, leaned forward and kissed him, enjoying the way Zel melted into it as if no one had ever touched him before.

“I love you,” he said softly, staring into the dazed eyes, the look so soft and vulnerable in their stony setting.  “You know that, right?”

Zel nodded slightly, still wide-eyed, obviously not understanding the reasons for this any more than Gourry could retain history lessons.

“I want to sleep with you again,” the mercenary said quietly, “but I’ve got to take care of some things before I can.”

“Some things?  Like what?”

Gourry smiled.  “Just stuff, you know.  Sleep well, I’ll see you in the morning.”  He waved over his shoulder as he walked back down the hall, leaving a disgruntled chimera behind.

Outside the inn, the air had turned dark blue with evening.  A skinny kid was sweeping the cobblestones and muttering to himself, but besides him, the place was deserted.

Gourry thought about it and walked around the side of the inn, out of sight of the kid.  Then he leaned up against the wall and called quietly, “Xellos.  Xellos Me-teluh…mian…something.  You know who you are.”

There was a very faint shimmer in front of him, and then Xellos was just there.  Half-moon eyes smiling, polite expression hinting at puzzlement, he cocked his head at Gourry.

“Did you want me for something, Gourry-san?”

He nodded determinedly.  “You’re a mazoku, so you work for somebody higher than you, right?”

The half-moon eyes opened and looked at him, wary interest glinting pale amethyst.  “Correct.”

“But you’re really powerful, so you can do some things on your own, right?  You can decide stuff by yourself, make deals, stuff like that, right?”

“I have a certain degree of autonomy, it’s true…”

“And I know you have some kind of honor, so if you give your word, you have to keep it, right?”

“Did you want to make a deal with me, Gourry Gabriev?”  Amusement lit the flat eyes, making them gleam and spark.

“Maybe.  You’re happy when we’re unhappy, right?  I mean, you – ”

“Mazoku feed on negative emotions, yes, you know that, Swordsman.  What do you want?”

“I want you to leave Zel and me alone.  Don’t hurt him, stop messing with his dreams, and stop trying to get us to fight.  That’s what I want, Xellos.”

Amethyst eyes noted the blue-gloved hand on the hilt of the Sword of Light and returned to his face, interested in the determination there.  “In return for what?”

Gourry looked at him steadily.  “If you promise to give me those things, you can do whatever you want with me tonight – so long as you don’t leave anything that’ll show.”

Xellos looked at him with eyes closed again, face blank and thoughtful.  Gourry had thought about this for a while, trying to see if the offer was tempting enough from a mazoku’s point of view, and as far as he could tell, it looked pretty good.  He hadn’t tried to decipher his own feelings about what Xellos might do to him, but he knew he wasn’t really eager to find out.  He would probably be really angry and miserable, anyway, which would make a good, solid meal for the mazoku.

“So you lay out a banquet tonight, and I leave you and your rocky lover alone forever more?  Doesn’t it seem to you that that’s a little bit unequal?”

“Well, I don’t know who would win if I went after you with this,” Gourry explained, patting the sword at his side, “but we could find out.  I don’t think you’d be much happier than me, anyway.”

“Ah.  You suggest that the only alternative to a free meal is a fight?”  Xellos gave him a tilted smile, one eyebrow raised.

“Well, I don’t think you’re supposed to fight with us, your master must have said something, cuz you don’t hurt us even when Amelia talks to you, so I figured you’d rather eat than disobey your master.”

Purple brows creased slightly as Xellos granted him a bemused look.  “Your logic is a bit fuzzy.  You want me to swear not to hurt the chimera, leave you both alone, and stop playing with his dreams, because the alternative is to disobey my master?  Keeping in mind that you don’t actually know what my master’s orders are.”

Gourry nodded hesitantly, wondering how the mazoku managed to make his head spin without saying anything he didn’t already know.

The Trickster Priest raised an eyebrow again and smiled quizzically.  “Do I have to promise to leave Stone-boy alone entirely?  No teasing, no poking, no pointing out little hypocricies?”

Gourry frowned at him warningly.  “You can’t hurt him.  Annoying him is fine, he’s always annoyed, but you can’t make him miserable or really depressed by twisting things.  Okay?”

 Xellos sighed and shrugged gracefully.  “I suppose that’s fair enough.  I keep my salad bar.  All right, I accept your terms.”

Gourry blinked in startlement, then nodded, feeling his heart stutter a little bit.  He hadn’t expected the priest to accept so easily – he’d been counting on argument, a little more time to prepare for… whatever was going to happen now.  He’d aimed for this, but he’d never really looked forward to it.  Giving yourself up to the tender mercies of a mazoku wasn’t high on the list of things to do if you wanted to live a long life, or even a short sane one.

Casually, the priest reached up to Gourry’s face – the swordsman just kept from flinching back – and pressed one fingertip against his forehead.  Gourry swayed as the world narrowed to a thin strip of sky above him and the mazoku’s happy smile.  Then it all winked out.

 

Xellos Metallium regarded the unconscious face of his one-night captive with a slight frown, curled up in a nest of furs on the throne-like armchair donated to him by his mistress.  This new move of the Swordsman’s certainly fit perfectly into the line of chivalrously honorable actions by his predecessors – emphasis on the pre-deceased, there.  Holders of the Sword of Light had tended to the proud, honor-bound knight-types more often than intellegent folk with a working survival instinct – although some would say Gourry was struggling to combine the worst traits of both.  A wandering mercenary himself, he traveled with a group who were fools, renegades or the next best thing to bandits.  Of course, that was part of what made the group so interesting to follow.  The conflict between the morals and principles aspired to by most folk and the everyday activities of Lina and company always entertained the Trickster Priest.

Certainly it appeared that Gourry Gabriev was a sad fall from the proud state of his forebears.  Xellos tapped one finger thoughtfully on his cheek and shook his head.  Appearances were deceptive so much of the time.  His own, for instance.  Black tornado of power, or innocent and inoffensive human priest?  Even Gourry would be able to say which would be more inconspicuous.  Especially Gourry, who specialized in his own type of inconspicuousness.

Under his guise of brainless blonde, the current Swordsman had assisted his little band in defeating multiple lesser mazoku, a magical copy of the Red Priest, and a Piece of the Dark Lord Shabranigdo.  He’d also dropped numerous tidbits of vital information just when they were needed, not that much note had ever been taken of this by his friends…

And yet it wasn’t entirely a mask.  As far as Xellos could tell, Gourry truly did have a terrible memory for certain things, his attention span was questionable, and he could lose the thread of the simplest explanation.  How much of that he allowed to happen, rather than being attentive and alert and clueing everyone in, even the Trickster Priest couldn’t be sure.

Long bare limbs twitched on the bed, making the chains attached at wrists and ankles clink.  Xellos actually preferred the look of his black smoke bonds, or perhaps some lavender silk, but chains seemed to have the more dramatic effect on a captive’s mentality.

Blue eyes snapped open and Gourry scanned his surroundings.  Xellos smiled slightly when a tightening of the lips suggested that the blonde had noticed his lack of clothing.

“All right, Xellos,” he said in an entirely unfamiliar tone of voice, “I have to admit I was expecting something more inventive than being chained to a bed naked.  Now what?”

The priest marvelled.  Had he dropped his mask so easily?

“I could do something else, if you really prefer,” he shrugged, standing up, “but all the things that people consider ‘more inventive’ have really been run into the ground.  Inventiveness is sadly not one of the more noticeable human traits.  They just do the same things over and over again.  Mind you,” he added judiciously, “the same old things always come as a shock to the recipient…

“At any rate, if I later decide that further invention is necessary, I’m certain I can come up with something to meet your standards.”  He allowed a hint of fang into his smile.  “Presently, I only want answers to some questions.”

“You want to ask me questions?”