Less Than Whole
folder
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
11
Views:
894
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
11
Views:
894
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Less Than Whole
The night after Ebon Honda gave away his soul, he lay huddled on the floor of his parents’ shower. The water was hot and beat against his shoulders. He blinked water out of his black eyes and tasted it constantly in his mouth and as it ran into his nose. He hugged his lean body tightly, making himself into an embryonic ball.
He heard his mother come in and out of the bathroom. He had the curtains pulled and did not see her face. She expressed concern of a general sort, then grew cross with his silence and left. His twin sister, Des, came inside and pushed the curtains aside. The water was growing lukewarm when she reached down and touched him on the shoulder.
“I’m sorry Ebon, I’ll do everything I can to fix it.”
Like his life was a car. He had given away his soul!
He did not move. She removed her hand as the water grew cold. She didn’t leave him alone, but she didn’t speak either. She said, “Remember when we were little? And I used to try to swing high enough to flip over the swing set? Remember?”
Ebon didn’t say anything. But Des reached over and turned off the cold water. She retrieved a towel and tossed it at him. Again, he didn’t move, but he was shivering. Des sighed and leaned over, drying his body herself. She tried to get him to sit up, but even though Des was strong and over 6 feet tall, Ebon was even taller. He was lean, but well-muscled. He was too heavy for Des to lift.
From under the blue towel he said, “I remember. I didn’t want you to do it.”
“I know. You have always protected me. It’s my turn now. I will fix it.”
His eyelashes were heavy. He was cold and his long black hair was clinging to his back, itchy. He clutched the towel to his waist and stood. He looked at Des and laid a hand on her shoulder. “For you, I’d do it again, a thousand times.”
“You shouldn’t have.”
“I did it. It’s done.”
His eyes were blank when he walked past her.
* * *
Ebon almost failed his last semester of library science school. He didn’t attend classes for several weeks and missed two midterms. He was a handsome man and in a department that was stereotypically full of plain-looking students, he stood out. He caught on that the Dean of Information Science liked to watch him.
He invited the dean over to his new house. He told him it was a house-warming party. When Dean Faraji entered the house, he was the only one there. Ebon sat in his sparsely furnished living room, his arms resting on the back of the sofa and grinned. “No one else showed up,” he said.
The dean smiled and didn’t look nervous. Ebon was glad. He didn’t like seducing nervous men. He liked it relaxed, cool, easy.
Dean Faraji was smaller than Ebon, wore thin wire-rimmed glasses and had deep brown skin. The Dean came over to the couch and leaned in for a tentative kiss. Ebon’s black eyes crinkled into thin crescents. He pulled the dean in for a deeper kiss, parting his lips with his tongue. The dean tasted like tobacco.
He felt the dean slip a hand under his shirt. It was warm and dry. Ebon’s chest was smooth. He had never developed a lot of body hair. He felt the dean brush against his nipples and then trace his fingers down over his flat stomach, feeling the hard bumps of his abdominal muscles. He let the dean pull his shirt over his head and then lay back on the couch, inviting him to look and watch as he unbuttoned his pants.
“How do you want it, dean? I’ll do whatever it takes.”
“I know you will,” he said. He smiled and Ebon liked his smile, he realized. Only one thing nagged at him: he still felt like he was missing something. And he was. Only by now, after several months, he thought he’d be over it. He tried to push the thought away. It was easier to do when the dean wrapped his gorgeous lips around his cock.
It was easier, but not complete. The memory of losing his soul did not leave. It was always there. It was always there!
He realized that there was two of him experiencing this act of sex: the part that was enjoying it and another part that was almost disembodied, observing the act, standing apart because Ebon no longer quite belonged with the rest of the human race.
His body continued anyway, moving with rhythms that were well-practiced, using techniques automatically and without thought. When he climaxed, he screamed out loud. But it was the observer that screamed. It was the part of him that couldn’t connect anymore. The part that knew he was lost.
He heard his mother come in and out of the bathroom. He had the curtains pulled and did not see her face. She expressed concern of a general sort, then grew cross with his silence and left. His twin sister, Des, came inside and pushed the curtains aside. The water was growing lukewarm when she reached down and touched him on the shoulder.
“I’m sorry Ebon, I’ll do everything I can to fix it.”
Like his life was a car. He had given away his soul!
He did not move. She removed her hand as the water grew cold. She didn’t leave him alone, but she didn’t speak either. She said, “Remember when we were little? And I used to try to swing high enough to flip over the swing set? Remember?”
Ebon didn’t say anything. But Des reached over and turned off the cold water. She retrieved a towel and tossed it at him. Again, he didn’t move, but he was shivering. Des sighed and leaned over, drying his body herself. She tried to get him to sit up, but even though Des was strong and over 6 feet tall, Ebon was even taller. He was lean, but well-muscled. He was too heavy for Des to lift.
From under the blue towel he said, “I remember. I didn’t want you to do it.”
“I know. You have always protected me. It’s my turn now. I will fix it.”
His eyelashes were heavy. He was cold and his long black hair was clinging to his back, itchy. He clutched the towel to his waist and stood. He looked at Des and laid a hand on her shoulder. “For you, I’d do it again, a thousand times.”
“You shouldn’t have.”
“I did it. It’s done.”
His eyes were blank when he walked past her.
* * *
Ebon almost failed his last semester of library science school. He didn’t attend classes for several weeks and missed two midterms. He was a handsome man and in a department that was stereotypically full of plain-looking students, he stood out. He caught on that the Dean of Information Science liked to watch him.
He invited the dean over to his new house. He told him it was a house-warming party. When Dean Faraji entered the house, he was the only one there. Ebon sat in his sparsely furnished living room, his arms resting on the back of the sofa and grinned. “No one else showed up,” he said.
The dean smiled and didn’t look nervous. Ebon was glad. He didn’t like seducing nervous men. He liked it relaxed, cool, easy.
Dean Faraji was smaller than Ebon, wore thin wire-rimmed glasses and had deep brown skin. The Dean came over to the couch and leaned in for a tentative kiss. Ebon’s black eyes crinkled into thin crescents. He pulled the dean in for a deeper kiss, parting his lips with his tongue. The dean tasted like tobacco.
He felt the dean slip a hand under his shirt. It was warm and dry. Ebon’s chest was smooth. He had never developed a lot of body hair. He felt the dean brush against his nipples and then trace his fingers down over his flat stomach, feeling the hard bumps of his abdominal muscles. He let the dean pull his shirt over his head and then lay back on the couch, inviting him to look and watch as he unbuttoned his pants.
“How do you want it, dean? I’ll do whatever it takes.”
“I know you will,” he said. He smiled and Ebon liked his smile, he realized. Only one thing nagged at him: he still felt like he was missing something. And he was. Only by now, after several months, he thought he’d be over it. He tried to push the thought away. It was easier to do when the dean wrapped his gorgeous lips around his cock.
It was easier, but not complete. The memory of losing his soul did not leave. It was always there. It was always there!
He realized that there was two of him experiencing this act of sex: the part that was enjoying it and another part that was almost disembodied, observing the act, standing apart because Ebon no longer quite belonged with the rest of the human race.
His body continued anyway, moving with rhythms that were well-practiced, using techniques automatically and without thought. When he climaxed, he screamed out loud. But it was the observer that screamed. It was the part of him that couldn’t connect anymore. The part that knew he was lost.