Page 31 of Inferno
He shuffled a fraction closer and slid his arm around Nerik’s shoulder. He briefly thought about kissing him, but didn’t think he’d be able to concentrate on that right now, since there was already plenty going on below his waist that was demanding all his attention.
“Oh gods, I’m going to… Nerik…!”
Without breaking stride, Nerik snatched up the edge of the blanket Yorin had been sleeping on and dragged it between them. His face was flushed, his eyes half closed, and he looked up at Yorin with an expression of such lust and anticipation that it undid Yorin right then and there. He gave a startled moan, gasped in a deep breath or two, and then simply rode out the storm.
“Oh gods! Uhh! Hggnnn!” Yorin’s eyes were closed, his hips jerking, his hand gripping Nerik’s shoulder. A wordless groan from Nerik, combined with the way his fist suddenly tightened on Yorin’s arm, told Yorin that Nerik was right there with him. After a moment, they both went still, the sound of heavy breathing filling the room.
Yorin had collapsed backwards onto the cushions. “Oh gods. Oh, wow…” He could feel Nerik fiddling with the blanket, no doubt cleaning up both their messes, then he heard a faint, rustling thump as Nerik tossed the blanket onto the floor. Perhaps Yorin should have apologised for making a mess, but he was feeling too boneless to manage even a cursory apology.
He felt the sofa dip, and then Nerik’s warm body curling up against his own. He slung an arm around Nerik’s shoulder, pulling him close, and they lay like that, half-sprawled on the sofa, for a comfortable few minutes. Letting his eyes drift open, Yorin let his hand play in Nerik’s hair, still a little wild from the night, and yet as soft as a newborn kitten. Eventually, Nerik lifted his head, grinning up at Yorin as he licked his lips. “So that went rather well.”
Yorin could feel the edges of embarrassment grating at him. His dick was still out, resting soft and sated against his trousers, and Nerik was in a similar state of undress. He shoved the feeling aside, concentrating instead on the feel of Nerik’s warm skin against his own. “I’m feelingveryglad I came over here last night,” Yorin replied, pleased that he’d managed to do this without panicking or running away like a startled deer.
Nerik leaned up and kissed him, then reluctantly peeled himself off the sofa. He tucked himself into his trousers again, and Yorin took the opportunity to do the same. “Not that I particularly want to,” Nerik said, “but I really need to get into town today and get some work done. That money isn’t going to earn itself.”
It was tempting to just stay here all day, talking and cuddling and getting nothing done. But Yorin’s customers would be no more happy about that than Nerik’s would. “Give me a few minutes to tidy up,” he said, looking around and wondering where his shirt had gotten to. “If you like, we could walk back into town together?”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Yorin felt oddly conspicuous as he strolled through the middle of town with Nerik at his side. They weren’t exactly holding hands, but they were walking close beside each other, and that, combined with the fact that Yorin was wearing the same clothes as he’d left town in last night, made him feel entirely self-conscious. In reality, it was highly unlikely anyone else would have either noticed or cared what he was wearing the afternoon before, given the storm last night and the fact that everyone would have had bigger issues on their minds.
Sure enough, the town was a mess, with tree branches down, leaves banked up against fence railings, a couple of carts overturned in the town square, and more than one frantic homeowner up on their roof, trying to plug a hole caused by wind ripping roof tiles away. A couple of houses had broken shutters on the windows, and the poor carpenter had had a whole tree come down on his work shed.
“Looks like it’s going to be a busy day,” Nerik said, as they left the town square and headed up the road towards Yorin’s shop. “Everyone’s going to be wanting all sorts of tools and supplies to fix this mess.”
“Don’t tire yourself out too much,” Yorin cautioned him. “You had a rough night last night. And if it gets too cold or starts raining again, you’re always welcome to drop in and warm up.”
“I appreciate it,” Nerik said. “Speaking of which, is there anything you need delivered today?”
Yorin shook his head. “No. It’s Friday, so the three orders I’ve got due today are coming to pick them up directly. That usually happens on a Friday – nobody wants to wait all weekend for something that’s ready now.”
They’d reached the shop and stopped outside. Yorin considered asking Nerik to come inside… but they’d already been delayed by their ‘morning activities’, and Yorin knew that Nerik was in a hurry to get to work. And besides which, he was going to have to open the shop soon. “So, um…”
Nerik stepped a fraction closer to him, a sly grin on his face. “I’ll drop by if I’m in the neighbourhood.”
Yorin’s grin matched his. “I’ll look forward to it.” He tilted his head down, intensely aware that they were standing on a public street, but his desire to kiss Nerik outweighed his self-consciousness. But only just. He was tense as Nerik met him halfway, and Yorin repressed the impulse to pull back and glance around to see who might be watching them.
“Have a good day,” Nerik said with a smile, when he finally pulled back. The kiss had lasted only for a few seconds, though it had felt like longer.
“You too,” Yorin said, wishing it was already Sunday so they could have the whole day together. Somewhere private. He watched Nerik walk away, and as he did, he could see out of the corner of his eye that there were several people out on the street. Were any of them watching? He didn’t dare look up to find out.
He turned to unlock the door to his shop, but a sudden voice had him tensing. “You could do so much better than him, you know.”
Yorin turned to face the speaker, knowing even before he turned around that it was Doris, the lady who ran the perfumery two doors down. She wasn’t terribly old – only in her forties – but she sold expensive products and had wealthy clients, which had made her into a woman who felt entitled to the finer things in life, and so she’d become set in her ways far earlier than many of her peers.
Yorin cleared his throat. “Excuse me?”
Doris leaned towards him, delivering her next comment in a comically loud whisper. “He’s beneath you. Surely you must realise that.”
Yorin knew exactly what she meant. But he decided to be difficult, just for the sake of trying to make her uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
“He’s amessenger,” Doris said, glancing around as if someone was going to hear the dreaded description. “No skills, no real trade. Your father would have wanted you to have so much more than that.” She said it with a frown of pity, and if there was one thing in life that Yorin couldn’t stand, it was ill-targeted pity.
“I think you’ll find, if you actually bothered to get to know him, that there’s far more to Nerik than meets the eye,” Yorin told Doris, in a sudden burst of courage and indignation. “I personally think it’s sad that people care more about how much money is in a person’s pocket than about their character.” With that, he unlocked the shop and hastily closed the door between himself and Doris.
Once he was behind a solid barrier, however, the fiery ball of anger in his gut evaporated, and he was left feeling anxious and shaky. This was exactly what he’d been worried about when he’d first turned Nerik down; people looking on and judging him, starting rumours, sticking their nose into things that weren’t their business. Not thirty seconds after their first public display of affection – as brief as it had been – and the neighbours were already chipping in with their opinions.
In one sense, Yorin was used to that. People had been judging him and his father ever since his mother had left. But at the same time, he’d worked hard to overcome his past, to build a reputation for himself that would rise above public gossip. But it seemed that no matter the amount of work he put into it, he wasn’t immune to those same judgements and criticisms.