Page 83 of Inferno
“Oh, for the gods’ sake, they’re hardly even damp anymore.” Nonetheless, Yorin quickly removed his boots, socks and trousers, hanging the latter over a second chair and then turning to face Nerik. “Happy?” he asked, standing there with his arms spread wide for Nerik’s appraisal.
“Mmm. Very.” Nerik wasted no time in closing the distance between them now. He pressed his groin against Yorin’s and rocked their hips together, drawing a gasp from Yorin.
Perhaps it was jumping a little ahead, but Yorin glanced around at the kitchen, then back at Nerik. “I don’t suppose you have any…”
Nerik shrugged. “There’s a pat of lard in the pantry. I don’t really do much cooking, so that’s the best I can do.” He was already moving to fetch the required item, then he was darting back past Yorin, grabbing onto his hand and dragging him towards the bedroom. He set the dish on the nightstand, then all but threw himself into Yorin’s arms.
But only a moment later, he was drawing back. “Ick, your hair’s wet!”
“Oh, for goodness sake. Do you have a towel?”
Nerik went to rummage in the bottom of the wardrobe, emerging with a towel. He tossed it over Yorin’s head, rubbing his hair vigorously. Yorin grabbed onto Nerik’s waist to steady himself… and then let his hands slide lower, down over Nerik’s buttocks, where he gave him a lascivious squeeze.
“Hey, you, stop that. You’ll distract me,” Nerik complained.
“Couldn’t have that,” Yorin said, his voice muffled by the towel. “Then you’ll get wet, and then I’ll have to spend the night warming you up…”
“You’ll have to warm me up with a fire,” Nerik said, pulling back and examining the result of his work. Thankfully, he seemed satisfied. “And it would be far more interesting for you to keep me warm with something else.” He glanced down, to where Yorin’s cock was standing up straight and proud.
Yorin looked up into Nerik’s eyes, not at all embarrassed about his arousal… and suddenly, having even an inch of space between them was far, far too much distance. Yorin captured Nerik’s mouth in a heated kiss, pressing their groins together, and then pushing Nerik back towards the bed. “Gods, I nearly lost you today,” he muttered, the stress and the reality of the day suddenly catching up with him. “You could have died. They could have killed you.”
Nerik tumbled backwards onto the bed, dragging Yorin down with him. “Shut up and kiss me,” he demanded, and Yorin was only too happy to oblige. The feel of warm skin against his own made Yorin groan, and he flexed his hips, rubbing their groins together.
“Gods, Nerik…” He drew back, looking down into vivid blue eyes, then dove back in for another kiss.
Beneath him, Nerik was squirming, trying to rearrange arms and legs more to his satisfaction, and Yorin lifted himself up just enough to allow Nerik to achieve whatever it was he was aiming for, while refusing to remove his mouth from Nerik’s. Then Nerik was wrapping his legs around Yorin’s hips. He leaned up and muttered into Yorin’s ear, “Fuck me.”
Yorin let out a wavering groan and had to grit his teeth against the sudden urge to come, right there, all over Nerik’s belly. He buried his face in Nerik’s shoulder and took a couple of deep breaths, then leaned over to scoop up a small lump of the lard. It warmed quickly in his hand, letting him rub the slick lubricant over his cock – having to pause in the process to close his eyes and grit his teeth again – and then he was sliding into Nerik’s hot body, amazed all over again that this was even possible. Having seen Nerik in his true fire form today, taller than a house and as powerful as an earthquake, it seemed doubly outrageous that a creature made of fire could dothiswith him. Then he remembered that Renfold had wanted to kill Nerik, and he clutched his boyfriend closer, making a vague attempt to keep his messy hand off the sheets, but having far too many other things to worry about to really give it much attention.
Nerik gasped and cursed in his ear, but before Yorin could worry that perhaps he was being a little too rough, Nerik pulled his hips closer and muttered, “Yes. Harder. Oh gods, yes…”
Yorin rolled his hips in a quick rhythm, dismissing any thoughts of taking this slow, and as an afterthought, wrapped his still slick hand around Nerik’s cock, stroking him quickly. “Fuck, I’m gonna…” The warning was barely out of his mouth when he came, a curse garbled into a moan as pleasure shot through him.
Nerik muttered, “Keep going,” in a desperate sort of voice, then wrapped his own hand around Yorin’s, quickening the pace of his strokes… until Nerik’s body went stiff beneath him, then lax, as he, too, climaxed.
“Fuck… Gods…” Nerik muttered. He brought his hands up to frame Yorin’s face, then kissed him again, rubbing his knee over Yorin’s hip in appreciation as he did so. “Fuck, that was fast,” he said, collapsing back onto the bed.
“Are you complaining?” Yorin asked, with an arched eyebrow. He carefully extracted himself from Nerik’s body, then sank down onto the blanket beside him.
“Not a bit.” Nerik glanced over at him with a mischievous grin… but then a wide yawn split his face. “But I might need a nap before round two.”
Yorin chuckled, but he couldn’t help reaching out and taking Nerik’s hand. Just that little piece of connection between them, and the whole world felt right again.
“I have a question,” Yorin said, a few minutes later, as they both lay comfortably in Nerik’s bed. “After you put out the fire and went back to your black form, you seemed to be in pain for a while. And while I’d be very interested to hear about that, I don’t want to force you to talk about something unpleasant right now. But my question is, Stanley seemed to know exactly what you were feeling, and what you needed to do to get through it. So… how on earth did he know that? I mean, he’s a human. Where the hell would a human get that sort of information from? From what I’ve seen, even most of the Chalandrians don’t really understand how infernals work.”
Nerik was silent for a long moment. “I’m starting to suspect that Stanley’s not actually human,” he said slowly. “Although… I’ve seen him without a shirt on. So I know damn well that he doesn’t wear an obsidian gem. It’s the sort of thing I would notice.”
“So what could he be, if he’s not human and doesn’t have a necklace? Or alternatively, how would a human come to know that kind of information?”
“It’s possible he could have learned it from a vreki. They have a unique way of communicating that could potentially explain to a human how infernals experience life. Or, possibly, he could be a salas. Salases and vreki have close relationships, which would explain why a vreki was talking to him. But I don’t see how he could be a salas without an obsidian gem.”
Yorin was only understanding half of what Nerik was saying, but he let him continue his musing, not wanting to interrupt his train of thought. “Ragions tend to know a fair bit about all the different species, but there’s no way Stanley could be one of them. I’ve never seen any magic that could make a ragion look like a human. I suppose it’s just about possible that he’s an infernal, but I find that unlikely. If he was, he’d be doing more to preserve our species. And there’s really nothing else he could be. Unless he’s a…” Nerik stopped, his body going suddenly still.
“What are you thinking?” Yorin prompted him, when he didn’t continue.
Nerik drew in a deep breath and shook his head. “Leave it with me,” he said eventually. “I’m going to have to think about that one.”
They lapsed into silence. Then, a little while later, Yorin said, “Can I ask you something else?” When Nerik nodded, he continued. “You said earlier that you were a little over two hundred years old. How long do infernals live for?”