Ви Корс - The Mist and the Lightning. Part VI

A satin red ribbon is tied around her neck, hiding bruises from a completely different “jewelry” – an iron collar. It was removed recently. And there are traces of his teeth there.

And Sigmer catches himself thinking that he wants to do this with her again. Make pain so that she glances, remembers him.

“Gladiators inevitably,” they fight really brilliantly. Neither one nor the other wants to give up. “As for the last time” is ridiculous, because it is so. The battle drags on, two desperate people are already just rolling

in the dust of the arena, violently clinging to each other. “Blacks…” The instinct of self-preservation doesn’t allow them to give up. They are warriors.

“Have mercy on them!” She finally turns to him, with a plea in her eyes and voice. “Send them to hard labor camp, but don’t force one of them to kill the other. They fought honestly, and are equal in strength!”

What is she hoping for? That in the prisoner camp they will wait for release. That “their people” will come to save them. There can be no more stupidity! “Blacks” will never recapture lost positions. And those who were captured are doomed. What's the difference? Die now, or slowly and painfully rot in hard labor.

He signs, and both captives leave the arena alive. In a burst of gratitude, she snuggles up to him, hugging:

“Thanks! Thanks! Thanks!”

He stands, barely holding back such a stupid and inappropriate victorious grin now, with outward indifference accepting her grateful tenderness. And when she easily blows in his ear, dodges with made discontent:

“What a silly habit!”

In response, she smiles ingratiatingly, expecting him to smile too. Now he will tumble her down right here on the balcony, and he doesn’t give a damn that she will be lying rigidly flat on stone slabs. And she will understand how much he really loves her. No.

And he turns around to leave. He gives out some instructions to his advisers, completely ignoring her, while constantly backing and sensing her presence, knowing that she is nearby and obediently following him.

The warriors will be hanged that evening. However, she will not know about it. She is never interested in the further fate of the “pardoned”.

His thoughts rush about in his head like birds in a cage.

She would never have stabbed Arel! Everyone likes Arel! Everyone chooses Arel… And Nikto too … Oh! Just not that!

“Come here. Do this. Maybe you will feel better if you fuck me. Your headache…”

No! Don’t think about it! Don’t think at all!

“You smell like a grave… No, really, nobody told you before? Arel didn't tell you? No! Actually, it’s good, not a grave, I put it badly, it is the earth, damp earth, as if you went down to the cellar, it smells the same…”

And it seems to Lis that Nikto thinks for a minute and then agrees:

“Strange, I never thought about it, but after all I lived half my life underground… But, it’s better not to mess with my past. Stop stirring up my past…”

And Nikto bends over him …

“Don’t mess with my past. Stop stirring up my past…”

And Lis doesn’t notice how he unconsciously clutches his ear, covering it with his palm.

He timidly runs his hand over the tattooed hip. He feels irregularities, slight bulges of the picture, where the skin was apparently pierced deeper than necessary. Or such barely perceptible bulges are formed when the paint for some reason “comes out” and you have to pass this place several times with a needle. Or maybe just in these areas, healing somehow happened incorrectly and something similar to traces of scars formed. Lis understands this a little, however, he knows, he heard from someone that if the tattoo is convex, it means that it was

made incorrectly. Too rough and deep. Or if the tattoo is blurry, it means it was made incorrectly, the paint was hammered into the fat layer. Or both are true. Or maybe it should be so? There is no point in this reasoning. It’s just that Lis feels slight bumps under his fingers and he

likes it. He damn likes it! He feels such an easy languor and desire, as there… then… in the extreme limit. As if from Nikto’s some kind of attracting waves emanate. Lis has already fucked him, just now. Fast, probably even aggressive. Without any preludes and sentiments. And nothing prevents him from getting up and leaving now. But he is not leaving. Instead, he continues to lie nearby and strokes, strokes this painted body. Nikto doesn’t move and says nothing. He made no sound at all for the time that their “love” lasted. Interestingly, does he groan under Arel?

“Say something,” Lis asks mentally, “say you are not kidding me!”

“How's your head? Doesn't hurt anymore?” Suddenly says Nikto and turns to Lis. And Lis is ready to bet that mischievous sparks are dancing in his bright eyes. The face is a motionless mask, and the eyes are alive and they laugh. Damn him! Lis’ throat intercepts with indignation, but

he doesn’t want to quarrel now, he himself doesn’t understand why. And he listens to his feelings. And negatively shakes his head:

“No. It no longer hurts.”

It no longer hurts, so why the hell is he not leaving! And what kind of nonsense is all this?! Did he come here for some pill against headache?! He came to sort it out, talk, find out in the end! Only now he least of all wants to find out something, to understand something. He wants… Damn! He wants to touch this body, this skin, these lips…”

Why did he do that! Yes, he was simply mad when he embraced this white-haired monster and nevertheless kissed him. He dug into this lying

mouth with his lips. And Nikto answered him. Their kiss… This weakness… He showed his feelings, revealed himself as a boy and in front of whom?!

In front of that man who didn’t care at all, who was simply having fun, he whiled away the time between doses, watching the reactions of funny confused Lis.

“Lis, leave this to Arel! Madness is not your cup of tea, it doesn’t suit you!”

“It looks poorly! Lis!”

“You tremble like a leaf in the wind, you are afraid!”

“Because you yourself don’t understand what you are doing, and this is funny, Lis who doesn’t understand what he is doing…”

Yes, that evening Lis could argue with Arel about which of them was worse.

But in those moments when their lips touched, Lis realized that he would break and do for Nikto more than just fuck him. And that he will let Nikto do something more. He remembered how he literally rolled out of bed.

Wine! Urgently drink wine and get distracted! All around lay bottles with only sweet wine, as Arel liked.

“No, not this grape molasses of Arel!”

Fox remembered that Nikto was confused for a long time in the names and color of the label, trying to bring Lis what he asked. It was funny and distracted him.

He managed to resist this obsession. He resisted and was proud of it. Resisted? And Lis smiled bitterly at his memories.

They drank wine and talked, Lis remembered that about some things that previously seemed to him unusually important, and at that moment when they finally could talk about them, Lis didn’t care. He looked at Nikto and felt his victory. So it seemed to him then. And I wanted more and more. Fortunately, it was already getting light, and Nikto said that he needed a shot. He began to prepare a dose for himself. He suggested making a dose for Lis also. Lis refused and left. He rejoiced. And he was drunk.

The whole next day he was in high spirits, recalling some moments, this surprised, inquiring look, turn of the head, subordinate pose. Scrolling through these scenes in my head over and over again. He had such a strange feeling that Nikto belonged to him, and not to Arel at all. In the evening, playing a game of cards, he was amused in his heart, watching as Arel lazily tangled white strands of Nikto’s hair. He didn’t care and wasn’t irritated because Nikto was sitting at the feet of the prince. As if it was he, Lis, who graciously allowed Arel to play with HIS toy. All day he didn’t feel like taking a drug, only in the evening, probably still allowing himself to drink too much, or was he drunk not from wine? No. He probably still got drunk, because… What happened next… What he did to Nikto later… it was probably cruel.

Lis was driving away these memories from his memory, but couldn’t help but think about it. The fact that that evening he waited for Arel to go to Squint-Eye. And he returned to Nikto. He returned to…

No, Lis no longer wanted to think about it!

Chapter three

Revenge of Lis

It is strange that Nikto wasn’t surprised at his arrival that evening. However, Lis vaguely remembered the very moment of his arrival, he was still very drunk. Lis wasn’t just drunk, he was drunk like a motherfucker. He took over all the bad habits of Arel – madness and alcoholism. Lis didn’t remember how he managed to justify his next

visit, or Nikto didn’t ask him about anything. Lis only remembered that he prudently locked the door with a key, and Nikto said that he was trying in vain, because Arel had his own key to that room. Then Lis said that he would leave the key in the keyhole so that Arel couldn’t insert

his own one. And Nikto shrugged indifferently. This whole talk about keys Lis remembered very vaguely, much more clearly he remembered what happened afterwards.

He knocked Nikto onto the bed, pushing him into the chest with both hands. And he fell. Raising himself a little on his elbows, he looked at Lis with his bright, cold eyes. He watched how Lis confidently and

leisurely took off his jacket. Squealing, he threw it aside. Left naked to the waist, he unfastens the belt buckle. Without taking his eyes off the bright eyes, untied his fly. With pleasure he noticed how Nikto lowers his gaze and looked no longer in Lis’ eyes, but where he needed to. He looked at Lis, how he with both hands pulled the soft suede leather of his pants from his hips. He looked at it and then looked up at Lis again. And Lis felt uneasy. He remembered that he was sobered up at that moment. And he got scared of what he was doing. And Nikto, immediately catching this fleeting weakness in Lis’ behavior, slightly bowed his head to the side, and the expression on his face at that moment was as if he wanted to say to his unlucky lover: “Well, it happens…”.

And Lis became furious. He no longer showed off, growling he lashed out at such a self-confident “son of the devil”, not feeling any resistance. Their dicks touched, snuggling together. Lis began to kiss Nikto, his chest, nipples, belly… Eagerly, as if trying to catch up yesterday.

And now he couldn’t recall these moments without having to squeeze inside, as if from a blow under his breath. He really felt physically ill.

No, nevertheless he didn’t cross the border, he didn’t take “unclean” in his mouth. Slightly satisfying his desire, he managed to pull himself together and remember why he had come. He seemed to hear his drunken, mocking voice:

“And I have a present for you, Nik! I would love to give you a bottle of wine… I would put it in your ass! And I’d look how you would writhe! But let’s leave this prerogative to Arel. Although it’ a pity, of course… However, why not? Maybe later…” He smiled badly.

No one listened intently to him. Lis knew that the word

“prerogative” was not clear to him, and his sense of superiority brought

:os no less joy than everything before that taken together.

Slowly, he reached for his bag, pulled out a skein of black wide patch from there…