Archive of Our Own

“Please, Adam!”

“No.”

Kris had forgotten what life had been like outside of Fae. But every once in a while, he would get a flash of memory that would remind him of what he had lost.

It had been over a week since Adam touched him in any manner, be it casual or intimate.

Adam had taken two fae and a human to his bed in that time—a common enough occurrence—while Kris watched from the fainting couch. Usually during such occasions, both the fae and Kris would be excited, for the fae got to watch Kris, and Adam always took such care with Kris afterwards.

Now, all the fae kept their eyes averted from Kris.

“Kristopher, I’m cashing in one of my coupons! I want you to sing for us tonight!” His mother grinned and waved the piece of paper that he had given to her last Mother’s Day, the stick figure holding a guitar blurring with her movement.

Kris gave a put-upon sigh while rolling his eyes with a grin. “Mom, really? Ugh, okay!”

He smiled as she laughed, her whole face lighting up with joy.

As far as Kris could tell, he had been in Fae for close to twenty years now. None of the other humans present when he arrived were left, their desirability gone once their youth and beauty faded. One day they would be walking the halls and the next they weren’t to be seen again.

But that would never happen to Kris.

Adam had done something that night he brought Kris to Fae…something that changed Kris.

It felt like his skin was pulled too tight, like it would tear open at any moment. Kris was contemplating seeking out Bradley or Sauli, his only true friends within Fae, and stealing a touch from them, even if all it would bring him was agonizing pain. It would still be a touch against his skin.

“Please,” he begged Adam, “anything!” He sank to his knees before Adam, but his hands were stayed by Adam’s power when he tried to lift them. “Please touch me!”

Blue eyes watched him with a passion that belied the coolness of Adam’s smile. “Oh, my beloved, how beautifully you do beg. But you are beginning to vex me. No.”

Adam’s power kept Kris on his knees as he swept from the room without a backward glance. Well after Adam had gone, Kris was still on his knees, unable to lift his hands to wipe at the tears now dripping down his face.

“Neil!” His mother was laughing while his father spun her around the room to the music. “Stop it, you goof!”

It was their anniversary, and Kris should have been in bed, but their laughter had drawn him to the staircase. Through the slats of the rail he could see the two of them dancing, their feet shuffling together before his father dipped her, another laugh escaping her lips.

His dad began to sing along to the stereo, and his mom laid her head on his shoulder.

“I love you, Kimberly Allen.”

“I love you, Neil Allen.”

The music room had become a safe haven for Kris, where he was able to escape from his head and body through music. He would play and play and play, trying some of the fae instruments before being drawn again to the beautiful guitar that he knew only he touched. The wood always felt warm and comforting in his hands.

“Oh gods,” he heard distantly as he played, the voice just barely coming through the haze he had built. “Prince!”

Why was someone calling for Adam? Kris wondered as he continued to play.

“He won’t respond to me, Prince. I tried calling his name, but he wouldn’t respond. His hands, Prince…”

“Beloved,” Adam’s voice was anxious. It was a tone that Kris had never heard from him before. “Oh, beloved, please look at me.”

The scorching hand on his shoulder shook Kris to his core, his eyes fluttering, the guitar slipping from his suddenly lax fingers, and a shattered cry escaping his lips.

“Adam,” he whispered, fingers lifting to touch the beautiful face before him, smoothing the frown lines on his forehead. Kris frowned as red smears followed his touch. “Why am I painting you red?”

Adam pulled the guitar from his lap and set it aside carefully before drawing Kris into his lap. He caught Kris’ hands and brought them to freckled lips to be kissed and nuzzled. “You’re bleeding, beloved.”

“Huh…”

Kris was hard to rouse in the mornings; his mother had to shake him awake multiple times to get up for school. But this morning his eyes blinked open with his alarm, his mind already moving. His body practically vibrated with anticipation for the day.

Tonight he was playing his first solo show.

Okay, it wasn’t a huge deal, just this coffee house/bar down town, but he was getting paid for it and everything. He was planning a set list that included some of his favorite covers plus premiering the originals he’d been working on all summer.

Kris couldn’t help laughing as he flung back the covers and got out of bed. He just knew that tonight would be the beginning of his journey to become an actual recording artist.

The sound of splashing water roused Kris from his doze. He vaguely remembered being lifted into Adams arms and carried through the halls to his rooms, but everything else was lost in a haze. Warmth flowed into his body from the lavender-scented water surrounding him and Adam’s body behind his. Long limbs were wrapped around him, hands stroking down from his shoulders to chest and back up again. Adam hummed softly in his ear, something that sounded like a lullaby.

Groggily he turned his head to look up at Adam, who was looking down at him, fondness and worry in his gaze. “What happened?”

Adam’s face showed a vulnerability that was alien. “You played until your fingers bled. Forgive me, beloved, I never meant to cause you that harm.”

“But you did mean to cause me harm.” Kris felt something in him settle. He knew he would always respond to Adam’s touch with a fever of desire and need, but he suddenly felt more in control than he had in ages.

The vulnerability vanished. “You are mine, beloved. Mine to hurt, mine to pleasure, mine to worship, mine to own. You will feel pain if I desire it, and it will bring you pleasure if I desire it. But you are never to feel pain unless it is at my will. And that pain was not at my will.”

“But you did want me to feel pain.”

The reply was instantaneous. “Yes.”

Kris turned to look at the opposite wall. The bath was a huge, sunken thing with mirrors and candles and plants all over the room. They were sitting on one of the many built in seats that ringed the bath. Steam fogged the room and gave the whole place a dream-like quality. Adam’s hands had stilled in their petting, one resting high on his collar, the other over his heart, a finger toying with Kris’ nipple, making it hard and sensitive.

Arousal began to heat Kris’ blood, but it didn’t swamp him like usual. He knew he could lose himself in it if he wanted, or he could stay more aware, more present to the feelings.

The hand at his collar tightened and Kris sucked in a thick breath and relaxed, letting the pleasure roll over him in waves. It felt so good after being denied for so long. He wanted it.

“Adam,” he moaned, arching into the two tantalizing touches. “Please…”

“Yes.”