Daevari -II-

Chapter 1.1: Eyes Upon Us

A deluge of rain cascaded down on Ari. He had miscalculated the timing, venturing too far and getting thoroughly drenched as a consequence. Sascha had warned him. By the time he made it back inside, Ari dripped with water, from the strands of his hair to his pants sagging with excess moisture. Sascha greeted him with a laugh, stripping off Ari's shirt and handing him a towel.

"Told you so," Sascha sang. In response Ari smacked him with the towel.

Ari rolled his eyes, fixating now on getting dry. How he hated the rain! He did not feel the cold, but the wetness made him fill with great discomfort. Ari stalked towards the chest where he kept his spare clothes and retrieved a black shirt and trousers. Some old habits never die. No other colors seemed to suit him, although Sascha disagreed.

"You know a bath would help with the sticky feeling," Sascha suggested.

"Yes, I know, but I do not have the time." There was a reason for why Ari left so far. It was to confirm the feeling they both felt but did not want to say aloud for fear of it becoming true. Something was here and it was growing closer. However, it did not come with the same ominous feeling as the times before. Ari sniffed and undid his pants, taking off his boots and socks, happy to be rid of them. He dried himself quickly and dressed.

Ari hopped over piles of both unopened and opened books scattered across the floor, deftly maneuvering around baubles and trinkets that emitted a faint glimmer in the candlelight. As he plopped down onto the pile of floor pillows Sascha came with another towel, drying his hair. Demons did not get sick, not like in the way humans did, so Ari did not know why Sascha fussed so.

"Did you find them?"

Ari shook his head and replied, "No, there was no one there... but there was a conflict. There was blood, lots and lots of it. The lessers probably took the bodies."

"Humans?"

Ari shrugged, relishing the feel of Sascha's fingers running through his hair. "Perhaps. There are still those who wish to fight, to take back what once belonged to them. The rain mixed and erased most of the scents, but there was this smell."

"I should have gone with you," Sascha said. Ari clasped his wrist, shaking his head. This was because of Ari. He did not want to burden Sascha. Where Ari went, trouble always seemed to follow.

He gazed up at Sascha, observing his disgruntled features, and pressed his hand softly against Sascha's cheek. Always warm and inviting, so inviting Ari, in turn, maintained strict boundaries when being intimate with him. It was not like how it was with Auovin and Cyrus. Sascha was softer, more fragile, and Ari was grateful for it. It taught him how to manage his hunger—how much to take and when. He did not want to cause Sascha harm, as he did with the others.

Ari took Sascha's hand and kissed the palm, laying gentle kisses on each finger until he reached the tip of the index finger. He bit into the finger softly, as if biting into a ripe peach, and savored the small amount of blood that gushed from it. Even more enticing was the muffled sound that escaped Sascha.

Ari looked up, meeting Sascha's storming gray eyes, and said, "Do not make such a face, or I will make you show me one much more pleasing."

"Shall I show you that face more often then?" Sascha asked, reaching for his face.

"If it suits you," Ari replied, meeting his lips.

Ari tasted cinnamon–– a warmth that lingered on his tongue. His mouth was deep and rich like chocolate, tempting Ari to indulge further. Ari hummed with need as Sascha's tongue danced hot and wet in his mouth, tangling with his. Sascha grasped the back of Ari's neck, pulling Ari closer as his other hand explored the parts of him hidden beneath his clothes.