magic maker (NC-17, Adam/Tommy)
Title: magic maker
Author: etharei
Fandom: Glam RPS
Pairing: Adam/Tommy
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 5,800 words
Summary: Adam stared dully at the red paint on the solid iron bars of his cell, which indicated that it occupants were convicted magic-users and, therefore, sentenced to death. Fantasy AU (also somewhat of a PWP).
Disclaimer: I don't own the individuals mentioned herein, and no profit was made in the writing or posting of this piece of fiction.
Notes: Written for the 'Imprisonment' prompt on my hc_bingo bingo card. I wanted to use a different writing style, and this was the result.
magic maker
The going from a world we know
To one a wonder still
Is like the child's adversity
Whose vista is a hill,
Behind the hill is sorcery
And everything unknown,
But will the secret compensate
For climbing it alone?
- poem 1603, Emily Dickinson
Adam stared dully at the red paint on the solid iron bars of his cell, which indicated that it occupants were convicted magic-users and, therefore, sentenced to death.
He had resolved, even before the King's men marched into his little village, that he would not beg, nor repent, nor pretend to be anything other than exactly what he was. He'd been born condemned, twice over; it was a wonder he'd even managed to see twenty-one summers. Father and Neil were safely away, and Mother was beyond mortal harm. He felt a little sorry for the wretches who had ripped him from his home, knowing what awaited them when she learned that her eldest was dead. Only a little, mind - he'd rather not die to begin with.
Adam shifted restlessly, no longer noticing the roughness of the stone wall against his back. The iron chains felt heavy, but only as thick, solid bands of metal would. The only places where the salt had burned had been chafed or raw skin. His captors had shown disappointment at this lack of proof - if any of the rural superstition could even be called that - but they clearly held no doubt about his guilt. Gold readily bred suspicion where twenty years of peaceful living had not, and the accusatory finger of a nobleman substituted well enough for evidence and jury.
Still. Adam had felt, at the last, an absurd wish for there to be some sign that he was what they claimed him to be. He was going to burn for it, either way, and he could have made peace with his fate if he'd thought, as the King readily claimed, that he was a potential danger to society; his removal, thus, a justifiable act. Instead, his helpless frustration had gnawed at him since the reading of his sentence, leaving him worn and listless in the tiny, dank cell where he was spending his last hours.
He'd wondered, of course; even before Father had revealed Mother's true nature. Strange things tended to happen around him, but these were rarely connected to him, except for a few occasions. There was that time he'd accidentally trodden on a snake while walking through the woods; the startled creature had reared back, then lunged forward, fangs flashing. In the next instant, a beautiful pair of boots glanced off Adam's shins, the skin exactly like that of the snake's and styled in the most current fashion. (They remained his favorite.) The trade route went through a neighboring town, so it was easy to pretend that he'd bought it from a long-traveling merchant. And then there was the matter of his hair - it had been an annoying red color all his life - until his sixteenth year when, without warning, it had turned a glossy black overnight.
Said hair was now greasy and matted, long enough that some of it fell over his eyes. It was difficult to count the days, his sad little cell having no windows, but he thought it had been a full moon's cycle since he'd been brought here. His captors had had no trouble, from him or the elements, and neither had the governor. Thus, despite the dreadful charges and pronouncements at his sentencing, there had been little urgency in carrying them out, such that one matter or another caused the date of his sentencing to be repeatedly postponed.
Finally, they settled on a day and did not move it. The interminable waiting had left Adam so wretched that he had actually been relieved, and for most of his last week of life he'd felt too weary to be afraid.
The death-fear was back, though, now with hours left on the glass. It took effort to keep his dinner (the last he'd have) in his stomach, and even his dreadful little cell (his final home) seemed precious, every strand of straw (his last bed) a treasure.
There was noise down the hall. Adam resisted the urge to shuffle forward despite his chained feet to peer outside. His cell faced a wall, and was tucked away at the end a long hallway; he would not be able to see anything unless it was directly on the other side of the bars.
Footsteps, coming closer down the hallway. Adam forced himself to breath through the tightening in his throat. It could not be near dawn yet, he was sure, he'd been keeping track of the time carefully! Unless he'd unknowingly dozed? He hadn't been able to sleep properly for days.
The bright flare of torches hurt his eyes after the unchanging dimness of the underground cells. He flinched, sprang to his feet, and instinctively pressed back against the far wall. He'd told himself that he'd go calmly, he'd keep his pride; but he was not ready, not at all, by the gods-
But the guards weren't bringing him out; instead, they pushed someone in.
"Here, you won't have to share for long," said one of the guards. "The other one is due to hang at dawn, and you'll have this cell all to your pretty little self." He leered, muttering nasty, vulgar promises as he re-locked the door and left, laughing, with his fellows.
Adam blinked, trying to see through the after-images of the torch flames. His new cell-mate was huddled against the adjacent wall, next to the bars, having difficulty moving in his chains. Like Adam, his ankles were shackled together, as well as his wrists.
Adam cleared his throat and tried a soft "Hello?"
The newcomer looked up in surprise. Adam took in more details as his night sight returned: a foot shorter than him, slight frame, youthful face, long hair over a delicate face. He wondered if they'd put a girl in there with him, if they'd somehow figured out his other secret-
"Hello?" came the hesitant reply, and he was male after all - Adam could see the shape of his chest now, and his stance.
"My name is Adam," he offered, not knowing what else to say. He supposed that this man had been given the same sentence as him, likely wrongfully, and though he was normally quite gifted at conversation, Adam had no notion of how these things went between prisoners. He'd been alone the whole time he'd been in prison. He decided to forgo family names; they seemed unnecessary, between men heading for the noose, and it may be a sore point for some people.
"I am Thomas - Tommy," said the other man, shyly.
Adam nodded. Unable to find a topic suitable for further conversation - the question foremost in his mind, why are you here, is it for witchcraft as well? being also the least appropriate - Adam slid back down the wall to sit leaning against it, demonstrating how one may do so when the movement of one's arms and legs were limited. He was pleased to see Tommy observing and copying the maneuver, and the atmosphere in the cell grew more relaxed. He'd resigned himself to spending his last hours alone, and felt absurdly grateful at the turn of events that had given him a cell-mate in the last, even if it was just to sit in companionable silence.
He could feel Tommy sneaking glances at him, though. Both their eyes had adjusted to the dark, and Adam was able to take in Tommy's torn clothing, the uneven coloring of his hair, the awkward way he was sitting. The last made Adam frown, and he asked, concerned, "Are you injured?"
Tommy looked away. "Only a few bruises, and I would not be feeling them if it weren't for the cold."
"You are cold?" The night seemed warm to Adam. But then, Neil was always complained that Adam was a furnace. Which, "If you wish to come closer, it is warmer here, away from the draft in the hallway. And I can share, er, body heat, you- …that is, if you would like to?"
His stammering drew a laugh from Tommy, real if strained, and the boy shuffled obligingly closer, hissing a few times when he moved a certain way. Adam expected him to take up the corner, wondered if he dared to coax him closer, but Tommy headed straight for Adam's side, sitting close enough that their arms were pressed together. Adam inhaled sharply at the icy cold of Tommy's skin, and realized that the smaller man was actually shivering. Without thinking, he drew up his arm and draped it over Tommy's shoulder, gentle in case of bruises, shuffling closer and carefully angling Tommy's body to rest against his.
Tommy did not at all resist, but moved where Adam placed him and melted back with a sigh against Adam's chest, Adam's arms wrapping instinctively around him. Adam found himself with an armful of boy without any clear idea of how it had happened.
Propriety had been left in the dust, and in retrospect it seemed a silly idea when he was hours away from his last sunrise. Still, "how old are you?"
A sniff, disdainful. The age he gave was the same as Adam’s. “And yes, I know I do not look it."
Relaxing even further, Adam looked closer at his unexpected companion. Tommy's hair, which he'd thought must have been shorn without care as some kind of punishment, actually looked as if it had been cut deliberately into this style, shaved on one side and with long bangs flipped to the other side. Adam liked it - it was interesting. The delicate features he had noticed earlier looked even finer up close, the strong cheekbones and faint stubble contrasting most appealingly with a sweet line of jaw and pretty, long-lashed eyes.
They sat like that for long, peaceful minutes. Tommy gradually warmed up, his shivering stopped, but he made no move to shift away from Adam. This was something Adam had never dared enjoy, and he thought, if they take me now, I will be content.
But it turned out that Tommy would not be, for after a while he let out an audible sigh and tipped his head back to look up at Adam. "You're a shy one, aren't you?" he murmured, before stretching up the last few inches and pressing his mouth to Adam's.
The contact was both shocking and like something he'd been waiting for all along. A small sound escaped Adam's lips, and again when he felt Tommy's tongue teasing his lips. He couldn't move his legs much, but he shifted his body to make it easier for Tommy; the gorgeous, soft feel of Tommy's smaller frame pressing against him sending ripples of pleasant heat through his body. It'd been a long time since he had better things to do than think, and inexperience meant that he was mostly following instinct. Tommy seemed to approve, letting out a pleased hum when Adam parted his lips.
But it seemed important to make something clear. "I didn't ask you to come closer just because I..." Adam mumbled, pulling back a little. It was difficult to think, though, with Tommy so close and so warm, and he finished lamely with, "Only if you want to."
Tommy chuckled. His eyelashes were very long. "Yes, I think I very much want to," he said, punctuating the statement with his teeth nipping at Adam's bottom lip. He shifted, turning further towards Adam's body, nearly overbalancing because he wasn't able to brace himself with his hands chained as they were. Adam was hampered from further speech by Tommy's tongue exploring his mouth with a thoroughness that left him quite breathless. It seemed simpler to just lose himself in the kiss - what did it matter, now, anyway?
A while later, both their lips a little swollen, Tommy drew back, and they paused to catch their breaths. Even in the dim light, Adam could see the faint flush on Tommy's pale face. Tommy cocked his head at Adam. "You must think me a wanton, or an easy tavern-boy."
"I... have not really been able to think anything," said Adam honestly. Surprise had been all he'd had spare room to feel, and a peculiar sense of gratitude. "I would doubt you are either, especially now - if you are, you would not care what I thought. We are in desperate straits, and likely you have been as alone as I have. In any case, I have never condemned others for enjoying the pleasures of the flesh, so long as they are not harming anyone."
"Oh," said Tommy. Adam's words seemed to appease him, for he pressed in close again, nosing at the skin of Adam's neck. "I am normally not so forthright, but it seems that fate has left me with few choices now for what remains of my life. It occurred to me that I ought to make whatever choices I am able to whilst I can.”
"I see," said Adam, voice made unsteady by the way Tommy's body was wriggling against him. Tommy's tongue laved the back of one ear, followed by hot breath over wet skin, which sent delightful shivers through Adam's body. Tommy drifted back to Adam’s mouth.
"I have decided," mumbled Tommy against his lips, sighing as Adam mouthed along the line of his jaw, "that I cannot be twice condemned, so I should at least live the crime I am to hang for." Adam made some kind of noise to show that he was listening, though with difficulty; his body's needs were overwhelming: the rush of blood in his ears, the pounding under his ribs, the want in his gut stoked sweetly by each caress and rub of Tommy's body. "And... I had feared, Adam, those guards- I know what they mean to do, once I am alone here."
Adam remembered the one guard's words, his lidded look, which had seemed vulgar at the time but of a piece with the saltiness of guards' talk everywhere. Now, to know that they had been meant, most literally, intended for Tommy, who would be outnumbered and alone- he growled, desire and an unexpected possessiveness leaving him lightheaded after so long of feeling next to nothing, and he kissed Tommy hard, intent on drinking down every gasp of air and helpless whimper. The thought formed, a hazy wish: if he could somehow keep Tommy safe.
Tommy opened up for him sweetly, very willing for Adam to seize the reins and pliant in the face Adam's awakened vigor; yet also groping as much of Adam's chest and shoulders as the shackles would allow. He made little sounds at every thrust of Adam's tongue, so that Adam delved deeper, wanting to lose himself in the wet heat. He wanted to cup the back of Tommy's head, to explore Tommy's body with his hands, and growled when iron held his wrists fast.
Other emotions arose, tangling with the need that seared through him, a fire in dry brush; his bodily needs were so new to him that the details involved were only half-formed, and added to that now was fear for Tommy as well as himself, and anger, that he should find this only now, this reason to wish for more time than he had. The heat was invigorating, strangling, renewing. He wanted to douse himself in it, and in the same breath wanted to lash out at the unfairness of the world; the latter grew to something almost like a physical force under his skin, struggling to break free, and he felt filled to the brim with it, strange, stretched thin. Then Tommy growled and sucked on Adam's bottom lip, and Adam retaliated, teeth catching Tommy's fleshy upper lip, kissing him forcefully with all the desperation that he felt. A moment later he felt queerly lightheaded, as if a weight had been removed from him, his body going boneless under Tommy's reciprocal attentions, and Tommy was panting into Adam's mouth, a strong hand digging into Adam's matted hair and an arm winding around his neck-
"What... Adam?"
The sudden loss of Tommy's mouth left Adam blinking confusedly for a few moments. Tommy was staring at his hands, then at Adam, his expression one of bewilderment. He must have read the confusion on Adam's face, because he held up both hands, bringing his wrists to eye-level.
Wrists that were pale and bare, absent of the thick metal bands that had bound them together before.
Adam instinctively brought his own hands up, to confirm with his eyes what touch already told him. His own shackles were gone. He stared stupidly at their wrists, unable to make sense of it. As if the thought struck them both at the same time, Adam and Tommy moved apart a little; yes, the shackles around their ankles had disappeared as well.
It was not as if they had somehow broken free. Tommy scattered the straw about, in case the missing chains should somehow be hiding under them, but the cell was tiny, most of the cold stone floor visible, and there was no sign of the chains. They had not simply come off - they had vanished utterly.
For a long moment, neither of them said a word. Adam found himself acutely aware of his surrounds in a way that he had not been before. The flutter of night creatures above did not seem so far away, and he could make out the scurrying of rats on their level alongside the irregular mvoements of the night guard shift. The necessary in the corner stank anew, though he'd stopped noticing it after the first few days; particles of dust and straw and dirt scratched against his skin.
"Are you… are you here because magic?" asked Tommy, eyes wide.
Adam frowned at him. "Aren't you?"
"No." Tommy ducked his head. But he did not move away, nor seemed the least afraid. "I, um, I was caught with- and I thought you were the same, that's why they'd put us together, to keep our- my kind from other men. I wouldn't have done anything if I hadn't-"
Understanding dawned. "It's all right," hushed Adam. He tentatively spread his arms, inviting, and after a second's hesitation Tommy drifted back closer, resting against Adam's larger body. Exactly like earlier, and it was starting to feel disturbingly like he belonged there. A strange lassitude came over Adam. He stroked Tommy’s hair. "In case it escaped your notice, I am guilty of that, too. Or would be," he felt the need to add, "if I'd had the chance."
"Instead, you were caught practicing magic," said Tommy. He did not appear at all alarmed by the idea. His hair was soft against Adam's cheek.
"On suspicion of it. If I ever really did magic, I was unaware of it. Though strange things did happen, sometimes, at the village." Distantly, Adam was aware that dawn could not be that far away now, and with it with his hanging, but it was difficult to think of anything beyond the warmth of Tommy's body, and the absence of weights upon his ankles and wrists. A strange contentment, with an anticipatory edge, had replaced the earlier heat. "One year we were the only place to get rain when every farm beyond five leagues suffered from drought. A house caught fire but it did not spread beyond the kitchen, where it had started. But a cow caught sick this year, and her calf died stillborn and deformed. I suppose some were looking for a person to blame. And then a lord’s son passing by made advances on one of the local girls, a close friend of mine, and I interfered."
Most of the villagers had been decent people, warning them as soon as the message had left, getting Father and Neil away. He paused; but reminded himself, what did it matter, now? "There'd been tales, you see: one day, a thick fog rolled into the village, and Mother had simply appeared, and would not tell anyone from whence she'd come. She stayed for a handful of years before disappearing as suddenly as she'd arrived. I thought she must have been a gypsy, or even a druid. Then my father showed me the apple tree she had planted after their wedding. It'd only borne fruit once, he said - the year I was born. She'd said that meant I was like her. Father couldn't get her to explain. Not that they loved Neil any less," he quickly added. "And, in any case, I had never actually done anything."
"Did you think I am here for using magic?" asked Tommy.
Adam shrugged. "Like you said, they placed us together. They've been complaining of a shortage of cells, lately, but they still tend to group criminals of the same sort. And," he stopped, his cheeks warming.
Tommy twisted his head around to look up at him. "What?"
"You- your looks," admitted Adam grudgingly. "A gypsy caravan passed our village some years ago, and an old woman in their tribe told me that it is the powerful Fae who have bonds with trees. She showed me drawings of them, because my father kept no likeness of my mother in the house, and when I saw you... that was my first thought. Oh, stop that." Tommy's giggling only worsened; he sensibly kept it quiet, but his body shook with merriment.
"You thought me one of the Fae?" said Tommy after a while, and he burst into a grin. Adam scowled at him, though he was privately glad to have lightened the other man's mood. Tommy did not seem to be one used to smiling, but when he was induced into doing so, it quite transformed his face. Adam could not help but trace a finger along his jaw; Tommy's breath hitched at the gentle touch.
"It is a compliment," he said quietly, finding himself - or perhaps it was both of them -slowly drawing closer to one another. "For it is said they can command the elements, and they are the fairest of all folk."
"Then I can well believe you were born of one," whispered Tommy, his breath ghosting over Adam's lips. It did not sound like idle flattery, but as if Tommy believed it. Tommy, staring at his face, seemed to catch something in his expression; he frowned slightly. "You do not seem the type to seek out compliments. Has no one ever told you before, how... that you are..." Tommy blinked, his eyes wide with surprise. "Truly?"
Adam looked away, shrugging. He knew he was well-built, tall, and he had a nice face, and all his teeth. None of these features were that remarkable, however. He told Tommy so, and added, "those of us in the village who are of the same age saw each other growing up, and there's not that many of us, so they all seem to me like extended cousins. Some of the girls did show interest, but." Adam brushed back a few strands of hair that had fallen in front of Tommy's face.
Tommy leaned back in, and softly kissed the sensitive skin below Adam's ear. "But no boys caught your eye?" Adam shook his head, swallowing. Tommy's lips traced a path along his jaw; they were chapped and dry, and caught on the faint stubble that was all Adam's face had been able to manage in the way of a beard ever since his hair darkened. Suddenly, he drew away. "Wait. Does this mean... you have never- with anyone?"
It took Adam a moment to understand the question, and he sheepishly shook his head. Tommy appeared quite dumbstruck by the revelation. His expression gentled into something that Adam could not read; the next thing Adam knew, Tommy was kissing him, slow and deliberate, mostly lips with teasing swipes of tongue. Snatches of words in between, "You know... that's why I thought... saw you in here...," spoken against Adam's lips, "you're of my kind... so stupidly beautiful..."
The world grew hazy, the wall behind him feeling far less substantial than Tommy's mouth, Tommy's body shifting and seeking more contact. The ardor of before returned in full force, in threefold strength: Adam's heart seemed ready to bounce out of his chest, every nerve afire, a constricting tightness in his groin. They groped and clutched at each other, enjoying the freedom of their limbs, then Tommy was straddling him, nails digging into Adam's shoulders and back, Adam's arms winding around Tommy's waist.
"Adam," Tommy whispered urgently. "Adam, please, Adam, may I...?"
"Yes, anything," Adam gasped back, though it was he who tugged on Tommy's hair, who marked the pale smooth skin of Tommy's throat with his teeth.
Tommy's fingers worked nimbly over their clothing: untying the rope Adam used as a belt, loosening and drawing down their trousers. When those same fingers, soft but strong and sure, wrapped around him, teasing his straining flesh even further to hardness, Adam would have shouted the place down if it were not for Tommy's tongue in his mouth. Adam attempted to mirror Tommy’s efforts, but Tommy only knocked his hands away.
"Your fingers," Tommy whispered. His eyes were dark, face flushed; Adam felt mesmerized by the sight. "I need... put them in me."
The implication of Tommy's words obliterated all remaining thought in Adam's head. He breathlessly obeyed, loosening Tommy's trousers further and easing the garment down enough for him to slip his hand down the back. Tommy's buttocks fitted beautifully in Adam's hand, and he gave them a thorough fondle before slipping a finger between. Tommy shuddered visibly when Adam's hand made contact with puckered skin.
Adam quickly realized that doing this dry could only be uncomfortable. He pulled his hand back out - eliciting a muffled protest from Tommy that ended with a sharp nip at Adam's collarbone - and gathered up the wetness at the tip of both their pricks. It was not much, but better than nothing, and when he felt at Tommy's hole again, Tommy pointedly tugged at Adam's shirt, whispering, "Go on, please. I do not care if it hurts - I want to feel you inside me."
Adam still tried to do it slowly, testing one finger up to the knuckle. Tommy groaned and pushed back, and the whole slid inside. They both gasped; Tommy made a noise that could have been pain but for the way he stared hungrily at Adam. Adam did his best to not think about the tight heat encasing his finger, about having that heat gripping his flesh. Tommy's strokes slowed, likely sensing how close Adam was.
The second finger met with more resistance, but nowhere in Tommy's hitched breaths came any sign to stop. Adam used his other hand to bring more of the moisture from around their cockheads to Tommy's entrance. He felt at where his fingers were buried in Tommy's body, using the fingers of his other hand to gently tease the puckered opening. He suddenly wished he could see- but it was already beyond belief that this was happening, that Adam had a beautiful man coming apart at his touch, pleading him to put more inside me, I need it, Adam, please. Overwhelmed, Adam pulled Tommy's head down to kiss him hard, his tongue mirroring the movement of his fingers; he was sucking on Tommy's tongue when he carefully slid in the third finger. Tommy's impatience had abated, probably from discomfort, but he still complained when Adam tried to slow down.
Finally, "I'm ready now, Adam. Do it." Tommy lifted up slightly to push his trousers down his thighs. Fingers shaking, Adam gripped his cock and lined it up with Tommy's entrance. They locked eyes, the air between them feeling heavy, like the stillness before a thunderstorm. Adam held perfectly still as Tommy lowered himself down; he'd expected a slow, gradual descent, but Tommy sank down in one smooth slide, taking Adam all the way to the hilt.
Adam shouted, or would have, if Tommy hadn't muffled it by cover his mouth with his own, swallowed down the noise. The tightness and heat gripping him were almost more than he could bear; he couldn’t imagine what it must be like for Tommy, it felt uncomfortably rough. Tommy licked into his mouth, as if to reassure him, fingers clutching at Adam's shoulders. They stayed still for several long heartbeats; then Tommy made a small noise, and lifted himself up. Slid back down again, breath hitching when Adam was deep inside. They established a rough sort of rhythm, Adam learning to thrust up to meet Tommy halfway, each stroke and slide building up the heat in his body. He found that if he thrust into Tommy a certain way, Tommy let out a choked whimper and shuddered all over, and he tried to hit that place as often as he could, though it took all of his concentration, the world now narrowed down to the heat and feel of Tommy's body and the sound of flesh meeting slick flesh and the pleasure - the heat and energy building and building under his skin. He controlled it for as long as he could, wishing for Tommy to climax first; his hands worked Tommy's prick, sounds and nonsensical words streaming out of Tommy's abused lips as if beyond his control.
Then Tommy gave a sharp cry, body going rigid and hot liquid spilling all over Adam's fingers, muscles clenching around Adam, and Adam let go; heat consumed him, pleasure sweeping through every particle of his body, like fire and death and rebirth; the world disappeared as all of his senses whited out from the intensity of it, until it was as if they were both formless, leaving only the heat of their beings still caught in their intimate cinch.
"Adam?" Gentle fingers trailed over his face, gliding easily over the slickness of the sweat still standing there. "Adam, you should... you should open your eyes."
But he didn't want to. His mind reformed itself most reluctantly, almost against his will. He had just barely discovered that which he'd never dared to know, had taken but a few steps into a world of pleasure that he had only guessed existed, a wholly new country; and soon he must give it all up, give up Tommy, for a crime that was not even his choice.
It was no recompense that Tommy would soon follow him; he would rather that Tommy somehow find a way free, to live and meet another boy to love. Perhaps Adam could find a way to give him a chance for that, before he had to go. He opened his eyes.
And frowned in confusion. The feeling gradually returned to his extremities, supporting what his eyes told him; that was grass under his legs, not straw, and there was the night breeze, not a draft, and those were stars above them, open sky instead of a dark, crumbling ceiling.
Tommy had rolled to his side and sat up, but kept one hand holding Adam's. He'd tucked them both back in and pulled up their trousers. In other circumstances, the sticky result of their frenzied coupling would feel unpleasant, but due to their imprisonment, neither of them had been clean to begin with, and the fresh air upon his skin felt like a douse of crisp, clear water.
"Where are we?" Tommy asked in wonder, staring about before looking at Adam. "Did you do this?"
"Not on purpose?" he offered meekly. "As for where..." He took in the treetops, the position of two hills, the familiar geographical landmarks. "It looks a like we are on the hill my family used to visit every summer. Yes, I can see the lake yonder north."
Tommy blinked. "But you did not mean to bring us here?"
"I was not thinking about this place specifically, no." It had been difficult to even think. "I only wanted to... to leave, to be elsewhere."
The other man was quiet for a moment, looking thoughtfully into the distance. He didn't stop touching Adam, though. Finally his eyes widened, and he chuckled. "The shackles disappeared when we first started kissing, did they not?"
Adam nodded. Tommy lifted the hand he was holding and brought it to his lips, brushing his nose over the knuckles. Adam uncurled his fingers and cupped Tommy's jaw. Tommy asked, "You have never been able to do anything out of the ordinary before?" Adam shook his head. "You also said that you have never... never lain with anyone." Tommy's lips curled into a smirk. "Perhaps, my dear, your power, is... is unleashed by pleasure."
Oh. Adam felt his face heat up. "That... never occurred to me." Though now that he thought about it - the night before he'd woken up with dark hair, it had been the first time he'd touched himself, brought himself to completion.
Tommy laughed. Adam couldn't keep from staring at him - outside, in the open air, Tommy looked even more beautiful, like a wild, ethereal creature. It occurred to Adam that, now they were unexpectedly free, Tommy would have no reason to stay with him. He probably wouldn't want to, Adam being a dangerous magic-user.
There was a tug on his hand, the one that Tommy was still holding. "Come, let us make for the lake, to get clean. This magic of yours merits further exploration."
Warmth and joy bloomed in Adam's chest, though it felt like too much to hope; surely one miracle was enough for a night. "I'm dangerous," he blurted out. "Or, I could be. That's what they say. Magic is wild and unpredictable, and those touched by it are often driven mad."
"As if you could harm a fly," said Tommy with dismissive gesture. "Unless you wish for me to leave?"
"No!" said Adam, perhaps a little too forcefully. "I just... why?"
Tommy shook his head in disbelief; he leaned in, kissed Adam gently; he was clearly very fond of kissing, which Adam heartily agreed with. "You are gentle, and strong, and kind - I saw right away, when I first laid eyes on you. It is a shame that you were never told how beautiful you are. But I am honored to be able to, now." He nodded at where the sky was lightening. "Look, the sun is peeking over the horizon. I'm sure our guards will discover our disappearance soon; can you imagine their faces?"
Adam laughed. "I'm sure they will be frightened out of their wits to discover that they had imprisoned an actual magic-man. They'll wonder if I've put a curse on them, that's why I stayed so long."
"That is a wonderful thought." Tommy leaned close, his expression mischievous. "Here's another: let us bathe, for I wish to see you bare and in clear light. Then you can test out your magic while I take you in my mouth."
Adam swallowed hard. "That seems... agreeable." Tommy chuckled; Adam drew him in for yet another kiss.
They eventually helped each other to stand, and walked hand-in-hand into the woods as a thick mist descended. If a kind face was briefly visible within the grey curtain, smiling with love and pride - well, there were only the woodland creatures around to see.
.end
Author: etharei
Fandom: Glam RPS
Pairing: Adam/Tommy
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 5,800 words
Summary: Adam stared dully at the red paint on the solid iron bars of his cell, which indicated that it occupants were convicted magic-users and, therefore, sentenced to death. Fantasy AU (also somewhat of a PWP).
Disclaimer: I don't own the individuals mentioned herein, and no profit was made in the writing or posting of this piece of fiction.
Notes: Written for the 'Imprisonment' prompt on my hc_bingo bingo card. I wanted to use a different writing style, and this was the result.
magic maker
The going from a world we know
To one a wonder still
Is like the child's adversity
Whose vista is a hill,
Behind the hill is sorcery
And everything unknown,
But will the secret compensate
For climbing it alone?
- poem 1603, Emily Dickinson
Adam stared dully at the red paint on the solid iron bars of his cell, which indicated that it occupants were convicted magic-users and, therefore, sentenced to death.
He had resolved, even before the King's men marched into his little village, that he would not beg, nor repent, nor pretend to be anything other than exactly what he was. He'd been born condemned, twice over; it was a wonder he'd even managed to see twenty-one summers. Father and Neil were safely away, and Mother was beyond mortal harm. He felt a little sorry for the wretches who had ripped him from his home, knowing what awaited them when she learned that her eldest was dead. Only a little, mind - he'd rather not die to begin with.
Adam shifted restlessly, no longer noticing the roughness of the stone wall against his back. The iron chains felt heavy, but only as thick, solid bands of metal would. The only places where the salt had burned had been chafed or raw skin. His captors had shown disappointment at this lack of proof - if any of the rural superstition could even be called that - but they clearly held no doubt about his guilt. Gold readily bred suspicion where twenty years of peaceful living had not, and the accusatory finger of a nobleman substituted well enough for evidence and jury.
Still. Adam had felt, at the last, an absurd wish for there to be some sign that he was what they claimed him to be. He was going to burn for it, either way, and he could have made peace with his fate if he'd thought, as the King readily claimed, that he was a potential danger to society; his removal, thus, a justifiable act. Instead, his helpless frustration had gnawed at him since the reading of his sentence, leaving him worn and listless in the tiny, dank cell where he was spending his last hours.
He'd wondered, of course; even before Father had revealed Mother's true nature. Strange things tended to happen around him, but these were rarely connected to him, except for a few occasions. There was that time he'd accidentally trodden on a snake while walking through the woods; the startled creature had reared back, then lunged forward, fangs flashing. In the next instant, a beautiful pair of boots glanced off Adam's shins, the skin exactly like that of the snake's and styled in the most current fashion. (They remained his favorite.) The trade route went through a neighboring town, so it was easy to pretend that he'd bought it from a long-traveling merchant. And then there was the matter of his hair - it had been an annoying red color all his life - until his sixteenth year when, without warning, it had turned a glossy black overnight.
Said hair was now greasy and matted, long enough that some of it fell over his eyes. It was difficult to count the days, his sad little cell having no windows, but he thought it had been a full moon's cycle since he'd been brought here. His captors had had no trouble, from him or the elements, and neither had the governor. Thus, despite the dreadful charges and pronouncements at his sentencing, there had been little urgency in carrying them out, such that one matter or another caused the date of his sentencing to be repeatedly postponed.
Finally, they settled on a day and did not move it. The interminable waiting had left Adam so wretched that he had actually been relieved, and for most of his last week of life he'd felt too weary to be afraid.
The death-fear was back, though, now with hours left on the glass. It took effort to keep his dinner (the last he'd have) in his stomach, and even his dreadful little cell (his final home) seemed precious, every strand of straw (his last bed) a treasure.
There was noise down the hall. Adam resisted the urge to shuffle forward despite his chained feet to peer outside. His cell faced a wall, and was tucked away at the end a long hallway; he would not be able to see anything unless it was directly on the other side of the bars.
Footsteps, coming closer down the hallway. Adam forced himself to breath through the tightening in his throat. It could not be near dawn yet, he was sure, he'd been keeping track of the time carefully! Unless he'd unknowingly dozed? He hadn't been able to sleep properly for days.
The bright flare of torches hurt his eyes after the unchanging dimness of the underground cells. He flinched, sprang to his feet, and instinctively pressed back against the far wall. He'd told himself that he'd go calmly, he'd keep his pride; but he was not ready, not at all, by the gods-
But the guards weren't bringing him out; instead, they pushed someone in.
"Here, you won't have to share for long," said one of the guards. "The other one is due to hang at dawn, and you'll have this cell all to your pretty little self." He leered, muttering nasty, vulgar promises as he re-locked the door and left, laughing, with his fellows.
Adam blinked, trying to see through the after-images of the torch flames. His new cell-mate was huddled against the adjacent wall, next to the bars, having difficulty moving in his chains. Like Adam, his ankles were shackled together, as well as his wrists.
Adam cleared his throat and tried a soft "Hello?"
The newcomer looked up in surprise. Adam took in more details as his night sight returned: a foot shorter than him, slight frame, youthful face, long hair over a delicate face. He wondered if they'd put a girl in there with him, if they'd somehow figured out his other secret-
"Hello?" came the hesitant reply, and he was male after all - Adam could see the shape of his chest now, and his stance.
"My name is Adam," he offered, not knowing what else to say. He supposed that this man had been given the same sentence as him, likely wrongfully, and though he was normally quite gifted at conversation, Adam had no notion of how these things went between prisoners. He'd been alone the whole time he'd been in prison. He decided to forgo family names; they seemed unnecessary, between men heading for the noose, and it may be a sore point for some people.
"I am Thomas - Tommy," said the other man, shyly.
Adam nodded. Unable to find a topic suitable for further conversation - the question foremost in his mind, why are you here, is it for witchcraft as well? being also the least appropriate - Adam slid back down the wall to sit leaning against it, demonstrating how one may do so when the movement of one's arms and legs were limited. He was pleased to see Tommy observing and copying the maneuver, and the atmosphere in the cell grew more relaxed. He'd resigned himself to spending his last hours alone, and felt absurdly grateful at the turn of events that had given him a cell-mate in the last, even if it was just to sit in companionable silence.
He could feel Tommy sneaking glances at him, though. Both their eyes had adjusted to the dark, and Adam was able to take in Tommy's torn clothing, the uneven coloring of his hair, the awkward way he was sitting. The last made Adam frown, and he asked, concerned, "Are you injured?"
Tommy looked away. "Only a few bruises, and I would not be feeling them if it weren't for the cold."
"You are cold?" The night seemed warm to Adam. But then, Neil was always complained that Adam was a furnace. Which, "If you wish to come closer, it is warmer here, away from the draft in the hallway. And I can share, er, body heat, you- …that is, if you would like to?"
His stammering drew a laugh from Tommy, real if strained, and the boy shuffled obligingly closer, hissing a few times when he moved a certain way. Adam expected him to take up the corner, wondered if he dared to coax him closer, but Tommy headed straight for Adam's side, sitting close enough that their arms were pressed together. Adam inhaled sharply at the icy cold of Tommy's skin, and realized that the smaller man was actually shivering. Without thinking, he drew up his arm and draped it over Tommy's shoulder, gentle in case of bruises, shuffling closer and carefully angling Tommy's body to rest against his.
Tommy did not at all resist, but moved where Adam placed him and melted back with a sigh against Adam's chest, Adam's arms wrapping instinctively around him. Adam found himself with an armful of boy without any clear idea of how it had happened.
Propriety had been left in the dust, and in retrospect it seemed a silly idea when he was hours away from his last sunrise. Still, "how old are you?"
A sniff, disdainful. The age he gave was the same as Adam’s. “And yes, I know I do not look it."
Relaxing even further, Adam looked closer at his unexpected companion. Tommy's hair, which he'd thought must have been shorn without care as some kind of punishment, actually looked as if it had been cut deliberately into this style, shaved on one side and with long bangs flipped to the other side. Adam liked it - it was interesting. The delicate features he had noticed earlier looked even finer up close, the strong cheekbones and faint stubble contrasting most appealingly with a sweet line of jaw and pretty, long-lashed eyes.
They sat like that for long, peaceful minutes. Tommy gradually warmed up, his shivering stopped, but he made no move to shift away from Adam. This was something Adam had never dared enjoy, and he thought, if they take me now, I will be content.
But it turned out that Tommy would not be, for after a while he let out an audible sigh and tipped his head back to look up at Adam. "You're a shy one, aren't you?" he murmured, before stretching up the last few inches and pressing his mouth to Adam's.
The contact was both shocking and like something he'd been waiting for all along. A small sound escaped Adam's lips, and again when he felt Tommy's tongue teasing his lips. He couldn't move his legs much, but he shifted his body to make it easier for Tommy; the gorgeous, soft feel of Tommy's smaller frame pressing against him sending ripples of pleasant heat through his body. It'd been a long time since he had better things to do than think, and inexperience meant that he was mostly following instinct. Tommy seemed to approve, letting out a pleased hum when Adam parted his lips.
But it seemed important to make something clear. "I didn't ask you to come closer just because I..." Adam mumbled, pulling back a little. It was difficult to think, though, with Tommy so close and so warm, and he finished lamely with, "Only if you want to."
Tommy chuckled. His eyelashes were very long. "Yes, I think I very much want to," he said, punctuating the statement with his teeth nipping at Adam's bottom lip. He shifted, turning further towards Adam's body, nearly overbalancing because he wasn't able to brace himself with his hands chained as they were. Adam was hampered from further speech by Tommy's tongue exploring his mouth with a thoroughness that left him quite breathless. It seemed simpler to just lose himself in the kiss - what did it matter, now, anyway?
A while later, both their lips a little swollen, Tommy drew back, and they paused to catch their breaths. Even in the dim light, Adam could see the faint flush on Tommy's pale face. Tommy cocked his head at Adam. "You must think me a wanton, or an easy tavern-boy."
"I... have not really been able to think anything," said Adam honestly. Surprise had been all he'd had spare room to feel, and a peculiar sense of gratitude. "I would doubt you are either, especially now - if you are, you would not care what I thought. We are in desperate straits, and likely you have been as alone as I have. In any case, I have never condemned others for enjoying the pleasures of the flesh, so long as they are not harming anyone."
"Oh," said Tommy. Adam's words seemed to appease him, for he pressed in close again, nosing at the skin of Adam's neck. "I am normally not so forthright, but it seems that fate has left me with few choices now for what remains of my life. It occurred to me that I ought to make whatever choices I am able to whilst I can.”
"I see," said Adam, voice made unsteady by the way Tommy's body was wriggling against him. Tommy's tongue laved the back of one ear, followed by hot breath over wet skin, which sent delightful shivers through Adam's body. Tommy drifted back to Adam’s mouth.
"I have decided," mumbled Tommy against his lips, sighing as Adam mouthed along the line of his jaw, "that I cannot be twice condemned, so I should at least live the crime I am to hang for." Adam made some kind of noise to show that he was listening, though with difficulty; his body's needs were overwhelming: the rush of blood in his ears, the pounding under his ribs, the want in his gut stoked sweetly by each caress and rub of Tommy's body. "And... I had feared, Adam, those guards- I know what they mean to do, once I am alone here."
Adam remembered the one guard's words, his lidded look, which had seemed vulgar at the time but of a piece with the saltiness of guards' talk everywhere. Now, to know that they had been meant, most literally, intended for Tommy, who would be outnumbered and alone- he growled, desire and an unexpected possessiveness leaving him lightheaded after so long of feeling next to nothing, and he kissed Tommy hard, intent on drinking down every gasp of air and helpless whimper. The thought formed, a hazy wish: if he could somehow keep Tommy safe.
Tommy opened up for him sweetly, very willing for Adam to seize the reins and pliant in the face Adam's awakened vigor; yet also groping as much of Adam's chest and shoulders as the shackles would allow. He made little sounds at every thrust of Adam's tongue, so that Adam delved deeper, wanting to lose himself in the wet heat. He wanted to cup the back of Tommy's head, to explore Tommy's body with his hands, and growled when iron held his wrists fast.
Other emotions arose, tangling with the need that seared through him, a fire in dry brush; his bodily needs were so new to him that the details involved were only half-formed, and added to that now was fear for Tommy as well as himself, and anger, that he should find this only now, this reason to wish for more time than he had. The heat was invigorating, strangling, renewing. He wanted to douse himself in it, and in the same breath wanted to lash out at the unfairness of the world; the latter grew to something almost like a physical force under his skin, struggling to break free, and he felt filled to the brim with it, strange, stretched thin. Then Tommy growled and sucked on Adam's bottom lip, and Adam retaliated, teeth catching Tommy's fleshy upper lip, kissing him forcefully with all the desperation that he felt. A moment later he felt queerly lightheaded, as if a weight had been removed from him, his body going boneless under Tommy's reciprocal attentions, and Tommy was panting into Adam's mouth, a strong hand digging into Adam's matted hair and an arm winding around his neck-
"What... Adam?"
The sudden loss of Tommy's mouth left Adam blinking confusedly for a few moments. Tommy was staring at his hands, then at Adam, his expression one of bewilderment. He must have read the confusion on Adam's face, because he held up both hands, bringing his wrists to eye-level.
Wrists that were pale and bare, absent of the thick metal bands that had bound them together before.
Adam instinctively brought his own hands up, to confirm with his eyes what touch already told him. His own shackles were gone. He stared stupidly at their wrists, unable to make sense of it. As if the thought struck them both at the same time, Adam and Tommy moved apart a little; yes, the shackles around their ankles had disappeared as well.
It was not as if they had somehow broken free. Tommy scattered the straw about, in case the missing chains should somehow be hiding under them, but the cell was tiny, most of the cold stone floor visible, and there was no sign of the chains. They had not simply come off - they had vanished utterly.
For a long moment, neither of them said a word. Adam found himself acutely aware of his surrounds in a way that he had not been before. The flutter of night creatures above did not seem so far away, and he could make out the scurrying of rats on their level alongside the irregular mvoements of the night guard shift. The necessary in the corner stank anew, though he'd stopped noticing it after the first few days; particles of dust and straw and dirt scratched against his skin.
"Are you… are you here because magic?" asked Tommy, eyes wide.
Adam frowned at him. "Aren't you?"
"No." Tommy ducked his head. But he did not move away, nor seemed the least afraid. "I, um, I was caught with- and I thought you were the same, that's why they'd put us together, to keep our- my kind from other men. I wouldn't have done anything if I hadn't-"
Understanding dawned. "It's all right," hushed Adam. He tentatively spread his arms, inviting, and after a second's hesitation Tommy drifted back closer, resting against Adam's larger body. Exactly like earlier, and it was starting to feel disturbingly like he belonged there. A strange lassitude came over Adam. He stroked Tommy’s hair. "In case it escaped your notice, I am guilty of that, too. Or would be," he felt the need to add, "if I'd had the chance."
"Instead, you were caught practicing magic," said Tommy. He did not appear at all alarmed by the idea. His hair was soft against Adam's cheek.
"On suspicion of it. If I ever really did magic, I was unaware of it. Though strange things did happen, sometimes, at the village." Distantly, Adam was aware that dawn could not be that far away now, and with it with his hanging, but it was difficult to think of anything beyond the warmth of Tommy's body, and the absence of weights upon his ankles and wrists. A strange contentment, with an anticipatory edge, had replaced the earlier heat. "One year we were the only place to get rain when every farm beyond five leagues suffered from drought. A house caught fire but it did not spread beyond the kitchen, where it had started. But a cow caught sick this year, and her calf died stillborn and deformed. I suppose some were looking for a person to blame. And then a lord’s son passing by made advances on one of the local girls, a close friend of mine, and I interfered."
Most of the villagers had been decent people, warning them as soon as the message had left, getting Father and Neil away. He paused; but reminded himself, what did it matter, now? "There'd been tales, you see: one day, a thick fog rolled into the village, and Mother had simply appeared, and would not tell anyone from whence she'd come. She stayed for a handful of years before disappearing as suddenly as she'd arrived. I thought she must have been a gypsy, or even a druid. Then my father showed me the apple tree she had planted after their wedding. It'd only borne fruit once, he said - the year I was born. She'd said that meant I was like her. Father couldn't get her to explain. Not that they loved Neil any less," he quickly added. "And, in any case, I had never actually done anything."
"Did you think I am here for using magic?" asked Tommy.
Adam shrugged. "Like you said, they placed us together. They've been complaining of a shortage of cells, lately, but they still tend to group criminals of the same sort. And," he stopped, his cheeks warming.
Tommy twisted his head around to look up at him. "What?"
"You- your looks," admitted Adam grudgingly. "A gypsy caravan passed our village some years ago, and an old woman in their tribe told me that it is the powerful Fae who have bonds with trees. She showed me drawings of them, because my father kept no likeness of my mother in the house, and when I saw you... that was my first thought. Oh, stop that." Tommy's giggling only worsened; he sensibly kept it quiet, but his body shook with merriment.
"You thought me one of the Fae?" said Tommy after a while, and he burst into a grin. Adam scowled at him, though he was privately glad to have lightened the other man's mood. Tommy did not seem to be one used to smiling, but when he was induced into doing so, it quite transformed his face. Adam could not help but trace a finger along his jaw; Tommy's breath hitched at the gentle touch.
"It is a compliment," he said quietly, finding himself - or perhaps it was both of them -slowly drawing closer to one another. "For it is said they can command the elements, and they are the fairest of all folk."
"Then I can well believe you were born of one," whispered Tommy, his breath ghosting over Adam's lips. It did not sound like idle flattery, but as if Tommy believed it. Tommy, staring at his face, seemed to catch something in his expression; he frowned slightly. "You do not seem the type to seek out compliments. Has no one ever told you before, how... that you are..." Tommy blinked, his eyes wide with surprise. "Truly?"
Adam looked away, shrugging. He knew he was well-built, tall, and he had a nice face, and all his teeth. None of these features were that remarkable, however. He told Tommy so, and added, "those of us in the village who are of the same age saw each other growing up, and there's not that many of us, so they all seem to me like extended cousins. Some of the girls did show interest, but." Adam brushed back a few strands of hair that had fallen in front of Tommy's face.
Tommy leaned back in, and softly kissed the sensitive skin below Adam's ear. "But no boys caught your eye?" Adam shook his head, swallowing. Tommy's lips traced a path along his jaw; they were chapped and dry, and caught on the faint stubble that was all Adam's face had been able to manage in the way of a beard ever since his hair darkened. Suddenly, he drew away. "Wait. Does this mean... you have never- with anyone?"
It took Adam a moment to understand the question, and he sheepishly shook his head. Tommy appeared quite dumbstruck by the revelation. His expression gentled into something that Adam could not read; the next thing Adam knew, Tommy was kissing him, slow and deliberate, mostly lips with teasing swipes of tongue. Snatches of words in between, "You know... that's why I thought... saw you in here...," spoken against Adam's lips, "you're of my kind... so stupidly beautiful..."
The world grew hazy, the wall behind him feeling far less substantial than Tommy's mouth, Tommy's body shifting and seeking more contact. The ardor of before returned in full force, in threefold strength: Adam's heart seemed ready to bounce out of his chest, every nerve afire, a constricting tightness in his groin. They groped and clutched at each other, enjoying the freedom of their limbs, then Tommy was straddling him, nails digging into Adam's shoulders and back, Adam's arms winding around Tommy's waist.
"Adam," Tommy whispered urgently. "Adam, please, Adam, may I...?"
"Yes, anything," Adam gasped back, though it was he who tugged on Tommy's hair, who marked the pale smooth skin of Tommy's throat with his teeth.
Tommy's fingers worked nimbly over their clothing: untying the rope Adam used as a belt, loosening and drawing down their trousers. When those same fingers, soft but strong and sure, wrapped around him, teasing his straining flesh even further to hardness, Adam would have shouted the place down if it were not for Tommy's tongue in his mouth. Adam attempted to mirror Tommy’s efforts, but Tommy only knocked his hands away.
"Your fingers," Tommy whispered. His eyes were dark, face flushed; Adam felt mesmerized by the sight. "I need... put them in me."
The implication of Tommy's words obliterated all remaining thought in Adam's head. He breathlessly obeyed, loosening Tommy's trousers further and easing the garment down enough for him to slip his hand down the back. Tommy's buttocks fitted beautifully in Adam's hand, and he gave them a thorough fondle before slipping a finger between. Tommy shuddered visibly when Adam's hand made contact with puckered skin.
Adam quickly realized that doing this dry could only be uncomfortable. He pulled his hand back out - eliciting a muffled protest from Tommy that ended with a sharp nip at Adam's collarbone - and gathered up the wetness at the tip of both their pricks. It was not much, but better than nothing, and when he felt at Tommy's hole again, Tommy pointedly tugged at Adam's shirt, whispering, "Go on, please. I do not care if it hurts - I want to feel you inside me."
Adam still tried to do it slowly, testing one finger up to the knuckle. Tommy groaned and pushed back, and the whole slid inside. They both gasped; Tommy made a noise that could have been pain but for the way he stared hungrily at Adam. Adam did his best to not think about the tight heat encasing his finger, about having that heat gripping his flesh. Tommy's strokes slowed, likely sensing how close Adam was.
The second finger met with more resistance, but nowhere in Tommy's hitched breaths came any sign to stop. Adam used his other hand to bring more of the moisture from around their cockheads to Tommy's entrance. He felt at where his fingers were buried in Tommy's body, using the fingers of his other hand to gently tease the puckered opening. He suddenly wished he could see- but it was already beyond belief that this was happening, that Adam had a beautiful man coming apart at his touch, pleading him to put more inside me, I need it, Adam, please. Overwhelmed, Adam pulled Tommy's head down to kiss him hard, his tongue mirroring the movement of his fingers; he was sucking on Tommy's tongue when he carefully slid in the third finger. Tommy's impatience had abated, probably from discomfort, but he still complained when Adam tried to slow down.
Finally, "I'm ready now, Adam. Do it." Tommy lifted up slightly to push his trousers down his thighs. Fingers shaking, Adam gripped his cock and lined it up with Tommy's entrance. They locked eyes, the air between them feeling heavy, like the stillness before a thunderstorm. Adam held perfectly still as Tommy lowered himself down; he'd expected a slow, gradual descent, but Tommy sank down in one smooth slide, taking Adam all the way to the hilt.
Adam shouted, or would have, if Tommy hadn't muffled it by cover his mouth with his own, swallowed down the noise. The tightness and heat gripping him were almost more than he could bear; he couldn’t imagine what it must be like for Tommy, it felt uncomfortably rough. Tommy licked into his mouth, as if to reassure him, fingers clutching at Adam's shoulders. They stayed still for several long heartbeats; then Tommy made a small noise, and lifted himself up. Slid back down again, breath hitching when Adam was deep inside. They established a rough sort of rhythm, Adam learning to thrust up to meet Tommy halfway, each stroke and slide building up the heat in his body. He found that if he thrust into Tommy a certain way, Tommy let out a choked whimper and shuddered all over, and he tried to hit that place as often as he could, though it took all of his concentration, the world now narrowed down to the heat and feel of Tommy's body and the sound of flesh meeting slick flesh and the pleasure - the heat and energy building and building under his skin. He controlled it for as long as he could, wishing for Tommy to climax first; his hands worked Tommy's prick, sounds and nonsensical words streaming out of Tommy's abused lips as if beyond his control.
Then Tommy gave a sharp cry, body going rigid and hot liquid spilling all over Adam's fingers, muscles clenching around Adam, and Adam let go; heat consumed him, pleasure sweeping through every particle of his body, like fire and death and rebirth; the world disappeared as all of his senses whited out from the intensity of it, until it was as if they were both formless, leaving only the heat of their beings still caught in their intimate cinch.
"Adam?" Gentle fingers trailed over his face, gliding easily over the slickness of the sweat still standing there. "Adam, you should... you should open your eyes."
But he didn't want to. His mind reformed itself most reluctantly, almost against his will. He had just barely discovered that which he'd never dared to know, had taken but a few steps into a world of pleasure that he had only guessed existed, a wholly new country; and soon he must give it all up, give up Tommy, for a crime that was not even his choice.
It was no recompense that Tommy would soon follow him; he would rather that Tommy somehow find a way free, to live and meet another boy to love. Perhaps Adam could find a way to give him a chance for that, before he had to go. He opened his eyes.
And frowned in confusion. The feeling gradually returned to his extremities, supporting what his eyes told him; that was grass under his legs, not straw, and there was the night breeze, not a draft, and those were stars above them, open sky instead of a dark, crumbling ceiling.
Tommy had rolled to his side and sat up, but kept one hand holding Adam's. He'd tucked them both back in and pulled up their trousers. In other circumstances, the sticky result of their frenzied coupling would feel unpleasant, but due to their imprisonment, neither of them had been clean to begin with, and the fresh air upon his skin felt like a douse of crisp, clear water.
"Where are we?" Tommy asked in wonder, staring about before looking at Adam. "Did you do this?"
"Not on purpose?" he offered meekly. "As for where..." He took in the treetops, the position of two hills, the familiar geographical landmarks. "It looks a like we are on the hill my family used to visit every summer. Yes, I can see the lake yonder north."
Tommy blinked. "But you did not mean to bring us here?"
"I was not thinking about this place specifically, no." It had been difficult to even think. "I only wanted to... to leave, to be elsewhere."
The other man was quiet for a moment, looking thoughtfully into the distance. He didn't stop touching Adam, though. Finally his eyes widened, and he chuckled. "The shackles disappeared when we first started kissing, did they not?"
Adam nodded. Tommy lifted the hand he was holding and brought it to his lips, brushing his nose over the knuckles. Adam uncurled his fingers and cupped Tommy's jaw. Tommy asked, "You have never been able to do anything out of the ordinary before?" Adam shook his head. "You also said that you have never... never lain with anyone." Tommy's lips curled into a smirk. "Perhaps, my dear, your power, is... is unleashed by pleasure."
Oh. Adam felt his face heat up. "That... never occurred to me." Though now that he thought about it - the night before he'd woken up with dark hair, it had been the first time he'd touched himself, brought himself to completion.
Tommy laughed. Adam couldn't keep from staring at him - outside, in the open air, Tommy looked even more beautiful, like a wild, ethereal creature. It occurred to Adam that, now they were unexpectedly free, Tommy would have no reason to stay with him. He probably wouldn't want to, Adam being a dangerous magic-user.
There was a tug on his hand, the one that Tommy was still holding. "Come, let us make for the lake, to get clean. This magic of yours merits further exploration."
Warmth and joy bloomed in Adam's chest, though it felt like too much to hope; surely one miracle was enough for a night. "I'm dangerous," he blurted out. "Or, I could be. That's what they say. Magic is wild and unpredictable, and those touched by it are often driven mad."
"As if you could harm a fly," said Tommy with dismissive gesture. "Unless you wish for me to leave?"
"No!" said Adam, perhaps a little too forcefully. "I just... why?"
Tommy shook his head in disbelief; he leaned in, kissed Adam gently; he was clearly very fond of kissing, which Adam heartily agreed with. "You are gentle, and strong, and kind - I saw right away, when I first laid eyes on you. It is a shame that you were never told how beautiful you are. But I am honored to be able to, now." He nodded at where the sky was lightening. "Look, the sun is peeking over the horizon. I'm sure our guards will discover our disappearance soon; can you imagine their faces?"
Adam laughed. "I'm sure they will be frightened out of their wits to discover that they had imprisoned an actual magic-man. They'll wonder if I've put a curse on them, that's why I stayed so long."
"That is a wonderful thought." Tommy leaned close, his expression mischievous. "Here's another: let us bathe, for I wish to see you bare and in clear light. Then you can test out your magic while I take you in my mouth."
Adam swallowed hard. "That seems... agreeable." Tommy chuckled; Adam drew him in for yet another kiss.
They eventually helped each other to stand, and walked hand-in-hand into the woods as a thick mist descended. If a kind face was briefly visible within the grey curtain, smiling with love and pride - well, there were only the woodland creatures around to see.
.end