Nymphaea

Part III

Chapter 16: And the Oscar goes to…

It was not supposed to be big business. They tried to make it a casual event, a nice meeting with the secretary and his wife to have a bit of tea and cake, engage a bit in small talking (to build up a trustful partnership) and sign the papers in between. Nonetheless the government official who had organized everything insisted that the leader who was supposed to join them and sign the papers should at least be interviewed before he was allowed to meet up with an important member of the British government. After all, he was completely unknown so far.

It was hard work for Seya to convince him that he had ‘other obligations’ and would therefore not be able to meet these criteria. Stephen had the distinct feeling he did not want to either. In the end they agreed on settling the meeting without such requirements.

Nevertheless, a week beforehand Stephen met up with Seya again to discuss details. Stephen had grown to be something like a mediator between Seya and everybody else as Seya felt more comfortable when he knew Stephen was around and made sure the likeable redhead was not misunderstood.

On this occasion they just met to supervise a few small details for the meeting such as food preferences, what should they best be dressed like and so on. Stephen learned that Seya did not eat the usual food at all. He said the meals his body was used to differed a lot from the human’s. They did not contain milk or artificial sweetening and neither as much fat. His people were no farmers so there was no grain on the menu either. Although residing in a certain wider area instead of migrating his people lived mostly in the old hunter-gatherer manner, only on a further developed scale, Seya explained.

At some point Stephen directed the talk to the topic of the leader. He said he needed a name to give to the home secretary. He had been urged to retrieve this information.

Seya looked at him with a smile still clinging to his face from a previous laugh they had shared. He looked down on his hands, then lifted his head again. “It’s Ayve.” Stephen raised an eyebrow both in surprise about the mere fact (he had never pictured Ayve in such a position) and wonder why Seya had kept this information to himself so far.

“Why haven’t you said that before?” he asked. “We have talked about him. You’ve always made it sound as if Ayve and the leader were two different people…,” he reminded him.

Seya nodded, head inclined. “I know I have ‘beaten around the bush’ there. There are so many rumours circulating about him… he has asked me to keep his name out of this as long as possible because he feared it might have a negative influence…”

He might have been right about that. The old tales Stephen had been told before he had been hired by the Secret Service had not been mentioned lately but the fact that every of his colleagues knew that name told Stephen they had not been forgotten. To keep their leader’s name out of the first negotiations spared them a few uncomfortable questions that would have slowed the progress immensely. This way the first agreement would be signed and the questions would be dealt with afterwards.

In the end this agreement was not connected to questions of the past and neither settling any important matters anyway. It granted the acknowledgement of their race by the British government and promised to stand by these people as they took their first steps in international diplomacy, trying to gain acceptance from other nations.

Stephen tried to keep the news about who the leader was down. He passed the information only to those who needed to know.

*

The meeting was taking place in the backyard of a hotel in the English countryside just outside of London. It was mid-July and the organizers obviously considered a nice coffee table in the green with the sun shining bright a good place to set the conversational partners into a good mood.

As she was presently enjoying her first summer school holidays, Stephen had brought Lissy to stay in the hotel over the weekend. Of course she was not supposed to disturb the meeting. She had already found another girl to explore the countryside with.

Officially, Stephen was supposed to take care of the elves/nymphs – only there was not much to do. He had met up with Seya and his attendant early but Ayve would come by himself later, when the meeting was beginning, he was told.

Stephen was – above meeting him again – curious to see how the three would be together. Seya had spoken of his leader only with the highest respect but had voiced a more differentiated opinion about Ayve as person.

The three of them were sitting on a wooden platform that had been built in the middle of the garden at a round table already laid for eight people: Stephen, Seya and the female at his side, the secretary and his wife as well as the government official who had organized everything plus wife and of course Ayve. Stephen had to suppress a smirk thinking of Ayve sitting at a coffee table with chocolate cake and sweetened tea talking animatedly about the weather.

The government officials plus arm candy arrived ten minutes before the set point in time. They were rather relaxed, this being the last business meeting before they were starting their holidays. A nice little chat was starting immediately. Meanwhile the buffet of several different cakes and fruits was dished up.

Just on time a slender figure, clad in a very good looking grey suit and black shirt was approaching the table. Stephen found him changed somehow. His movements were lighter than he remembered, more like Seya’s and of course he had never seen Ayve dressed in anything else but black.

Ayve walked up the few stairs of the platform with – believe it or not – a bright, honest smile that caught Stephen totally perplexed and shook everybody’s hand – even his, although without even looking into his eyes. The touch stirred something in him. And so did the sight of this man. His hair was bound back in a braid dangling to his waist, the upper two buttons of his shirt open, leaving every opportunity to marvel at is perfect features, his pants sitting low on his slender hips. Seya was handsome, no doubt about that. But Ayve had this whiff of masculinity about him that the red haired one just lacked. His size of perhaps six feet two in combination with the slight muscularity that was underlined even more by his smooth movements in combination with this slender figure that was apparently shared by all of his kind and his expressive facial features… pinned Stephen to his chair for a few moments. He thought there was no way Ayve could not feel his attraction to him if he was such a skilled empathist. But Ayve ignored him completely.

He was the centre of attention of everybody at the table and was busy answering a row of questions with his dark, smooth voice, always reacting animatedly with facial expressions to every remark that was made. Stephen stared at him in wonder. He’d never seen him in such a positive, open hearted mood. And he noticed the same surprise in Ayve’s kinsmen, although they tried to play along so Stephen was probably the only one perceiving their astonishment.

At some point in the meeting – they had just signed the papers and where trying the dished food, Lissy came running up to Stephen, tears on her face from a fight she had had with her playmates. He excused the disturbance hurriedly but was immediately told what a lovely little girl he had by the elder ladies at the table. Several handkerchiefs were handed to him to wipe the angel’s tears of and before he could object, a big slice of the chocolate cake was ordered for the blond little girl.

When Stephen returned his gaze to the people around the table, he thought he saw Ayve’s eyes rest on him for a second but being quickly redirected to the home secretary‘s wife who asked him whether he had children. Ayve negated but was delighted to tell them his first niece had just been born. After another half an hour’s chat, the meeting was over and they shook hands with a few last warm words and smiles.

Ayve ordered a slice of cake to be brought up to his room.

“Do you stay at the hotel?” one of the ladies asked with interest.

“Yes, to catch a few hours of sleep, I’m quite weary,” Ayve answered with the sweetest smile and added, “If you excuse me,” before he went up to the building.

“Such a nice man!” the secretary’s wife said to the government official’s attendant.

“And so attractive,” the other lady answered with a wink under her breath so their husbands wouldn’t hear, “It’s quite hard to believe he is not human.”

*

Stephen saw the others off and put Lissy to bed, reading her a story.

Stephen mused what he should do: he called the reception and asked for Ayve’s room number. But he didn’t know whether he should stalk Ayve like that. Whatever had been between them was long since over. There was no personal relationship between them that justified knocking on Ayve’s door.

Wasn’t Stephen even foolish to take up this dream once again? This dream of establishing some sort of personal relationship with this man? They shared nothing. They were worlds apart. Putting it under the rational lens that Ayve liked so much: what could Stephen gain from such a relationship? Well, he certainly had had a multi-faceted life. And a lot of loneliness.

But Ayve had seemed so open today… he had been so changed. Maybe they could finally talk. After Stephen had finally been let in on some of Ayve’s secrets. Not by Ayve though. But more or less on Ayve’s command, right?

He went to the bathroom to check that the hot summer day had not totally messed his looks up, freed himself from his tie and tried to calm down. Then he left his room and went to the upper storey of the hotel to knock on Ayve’s door. It was a soft knock, he did not wish to annoy him. Stephen stepped back to the opposite wall, his arms crossed, eyes wandering through the corridor out of nervousness.

Get a grip! Every time you face Ayve you act like an insecure teenager! He straightened his body and lifted his head facing the door, one hand leisurely placed in a pocket out of lack of use for it. It took a few moments before Stephen heard any movement in the room. He thought for a second that Ayve might not be in his room or willing to talk to him (he hadn’t paid any attention to him earlier. Or had he?).

But then the door opened and Ayve stepped into the door frame, leaning in it, arms crossed as Stephen had moments before. He was dressed only in a bathrobe that was tightly wrapped around his slim body. His hair was loose.

His eyes looked tired as he lifted his gaze, looking at Stephen questioningly. “What is it?” His question was curt but his tone was mild, a little sleepy even.

“I wanted to tell you that I am sorry for what I have bothered you with at our last meeting,” Stephen said. He had found that pretext and picked those words on his way up. After all, he was sorry for what had happened.

Ayve looked at him with his head cocked. “You can hardly apologize for something you don’t know about,” he said tranquilly. “You don’t know what’s happened back then. So you don’t know in what way you have insulted me.”

A couple left its hotel room at the other end of the corridor. Ayve drew his arms even closer around his body.

“But I wasn’t as hurt as I acted,” he continued. “I had other reasons for taking you to task, don’t worry about that.” He yawned, covering his mouth with his left hand.

“What reason is that supposed to be?” Stephen demanded to know.

“Your dependence on me,” was Ayve’s precise answer.

Stephen frowned perplexed. “I don’t see that. We hardly saw each other. How could I have depended on you?”

“Emotionally,” Ayve stated. “You tried to hold on to me. You tried to erect your life around me, burden the decisions in your life on my shoulders. But I have enough to carry myself as you know now.”

Stephen still didn’t understand. “What decisions did I ask you to make for me?”

Ayve smiled weakly, finding a particularly interesting spot on the carpet in the corridor, then looking up again. “There was no explicit invitation to do so. But your insecurity. With your career on one hand - that was something other people had arranged for you and you never asked yourself whether you truly wanted it – and your private life on the other. ‘I’ll stop asking. I will. Just please don’t abandon me’? That’s how you begged me to stay although you had just a few minutes before – rightfully! – decided that you couldn’t share your life with a man that kept so much hidden from you.” Ayve sighed. “We’ve been through this so many times, Stephen. You are an intelligent man with high expectations. You shouldn’t just abandon them out of insecurity. I mean, you have made a few crucial decisions in your life after I’ve left, haven’t you?”

Stephen had to let that sink in. He still couldn’t grab what exactly Ayve had said there or whether that was true. But he picked it up for the moment. “So I am more self-confident, more independent now. And I still feel attracted to you.” That was putting it plain.

Ayve smiled, shaking his head, waiting for an older man to pass them by and descend the stairs before he replied. “Stephen, you are mortal. Don’t waste your time on me. I am the wrong man.”

“May I decide that for myself, please?” Stephen demanded, stepping forward. “Just give me this night,” he requested. “Let’s just do this one more time,” he murmured, running his hand over Ayve’s cheek, locking his eyes first on to Ayve’s soft mouth, then his light grey eyes. He didn’t have to tiptoe as Ayve was still leaning against the door frame to reach his lips and touch them with his own lips softly. It gave him shivers.

Stephen stroked Ayve’s lips gently before they parted and gave way to a soft play of their tongues. He slipped with his hand under the collar of Ayve’s bathrobe, feeling the soft, heated skin on his shoulder. When he dragged Ayve’s arms out of their repellent, crossed position and laid them around his hips, this seemed to set the taller man in motion. Ayve pulled Stephen closer to him, one hand feeling the rounding of his behind, the other stroking his back between his shoulders. Their breathing grew heavier as their kisses gained intensity.

Then Ayve broke off. “One night.”

Stephen nodded.

“But I don’t have the ‘equipment’ for this,” Ayve added.

Stephen looked down at him, considering what he’d said, mistrusting him in this. “I’ll go down and fetch the stuff but give me the keys to your room,” he demanded, fearing this was just a way of getting rid of him.

Ayve understood the hint. With yet another smile he reached behind him and pulled the key out of the hole letting it dangle in front of Stephen’s eyes. He grabbed it.

“I’m back in a minute.”

“Have fun,” Ayve said seductively, pointing with his eyes to the lower region of Stephen’s body were the kissing had already shown effect, without moving a muscle in his face. Stephen stared at him puzzled for a second then gave him a warning glance before he hurried down the corridor.

That for sure was the old Ayve with all his rationality and closeness on the one hand and a touch of cheekiness on the other. As if it had not been nearly seven years since they’d last met.

Lissy was sleeping soundly in the double bed when Stephen sneaked into the bathroom and retrieved the needed items. He hadn’t cared to look for a new partner lately but he always had something in his toilet bag.

He wrote a short note for his daughter who was very proud of her recently acquired reading skills that told her in which room he could be found in case she needed him and hurried back upstairs, fighting the disappointment about this ‘one night’ arrangement.

When Stephen opened the door, he saw Ayve standing at the window, peering outside. Stephen approached him, leaving the ‘equipment’ on the bed. He embraced Ayve from behind, the long black hair like a curtain between them, and felt him slowly melt to his touch as Stephen slipped under his bathrobe again, feeling his chest. Stephen stripped off the robe from Ayve’s shoulders, caressing them gently with his lips, working his way up to Ayve’s neck, to Ayve’s ears, unbinding the belt of the robe meanwhile, letting it fall off Ayve’s body.

There he stood, completely naked, giving himself up to Stephen’s touch, trusting him without reserve, giving Stephen in dressed state and fully untouched already more pleasure than he had felt in years. He knew they’d have to take this to the top fast; he wouldn’t be able to control himself very long.

He let his fingertips gently strive lower, over Ayve’s belly, down his right thigh and then left where he was relieved to find Ayve’s already aroused sex. He felt the man push against him at the touch and couldn’t keep from calling his name himself. ‘Ayve’… It felt so good to whisper this name in the ear of its owner again. It fit so well: rough at the beginning, with that raspy tone preceding the ‘A’ and then smooth like a whisper…

Its owner turned around, looking into Stephen’s eyes, need in his gaze, and slowly pushed him towards the bed, cupping Stephen’s face with his slender hands, kissing him. Stephen let himself fall onto the bed as he was directed, Ayve kneeling over him, unbuttoning his shirt without stopping the kiss.

Within seconds the situation had completely changed: now Stephen was committing himself to Ayve’s guidance as Ayve had done moments before to his. He felt Ayve’s hair fall into his face, a wonderfully silky sensation, loved the way Ayve moved his hand through Stephen’s hair, enjoyed being surrendered to him.

Ayve explored Stephen’s chest, his nipples, the muscles on his back. Then he led his hand glide into Stephen’s pants without any further ado, directly touching his hot flesh, forcing Stephen to give a groan. A shared look, then Ayve freed Stephen from his remaining clothes, grabbed a condom, pulled it over his finger as was his fashion, took a bit of lube and started preparing him.

Kisses. Kisses. And Ayve inside him.

Stephen was lying on his belly now, Ayve heavy on him, moving inside him, caressing his cheek, covering Stephen’s hand with his own, breathing into his ear. This was more passionate than Stephen remembered it. Ayve was moving faster, a little ‘harder’ than he had been doing back then, but it felt damn good.

Suddenly Ayve was quick to find Stephen’s erection, to stroke it in a tight grip. A few last hasty pushes into Stephen that made them both moan and then they lay there, panting, sweating.

Stephen would have loved to whisper a few words of love, of romantic nonsense into Ayve’s ear now. But Ayve had put it clear that he didn’t wish to hear it so Stephen confined himself to pulling Ayve’s head down so they were as close as possible.

Ayve carefully pulled out and placed himself next to Stephen, watching him, moving his hand through Stephen’s hair. There was more than passion in his eyes, there was affection visible, wasn’t there? Stephen closed his eyes. He didn’t want to ponder about this now. Just enjoy this moment.

He felt Ayve’s lips on his, a kiss on his ear and then he heard Ayve move to the bathroom and turn on the shower. He dozed off.

It was some time later in the night when Stephen awoke, probably from the uncomfortable feeling spreading from his behind. He saw Ayve sitting on the floor in front of the window, a glass of wine in his hand, the room around him lying in darkness. Drowsy, Stephen decided to at least wash the remnants of their previous copulation away in the hope of easing the awkward feeling.

Stephen stumbled into the bathroom. The light he switched on hurt his eyes for a few seconds. The warm water gave him a burning sensation on that particular place of his body, but Stephen ignored that, soaping his behind with an even sharper burn and washing the foam off. He could feel that he still was widened.

Wrapping himself in a big towel, he left the bathroom again, turning off the light. He approached Ayve with careful movements, grimacing a little as he sat down. He took Ayve’s glass and sipped on his wine. Ayve turned his face to him as Stephen gave him the glass back and Stephen used the chance to kiss Ayve one more time. His hand moved along Ayve’s leg, exploring his thigh, grazing his private parts.

Stephen felt a sudden need to go on with this as he kissed Ayve’s neck and licked his ear. Ayve’s penis was perfectly relaxed but Stephen wanted to change that. He stroked it gently with the back of his fingers, still busy working on Ayve’s neck meanwhile. Ayve let his head fall back and spread his legs slightly to give Stephen more room for his ‘work’.

Having caused a light arousal in the beautiful man that submitted himself to him, Stephen lowered his mouth, laid himself flat on the floor and started moving the tip of his tongue softly over Ayve’s erection. He kissed the head of his penis with wetted lips, sliding them softly over the smooth skin, feeling the organ harden further.

Stephen stood up and fetched the lube from the bedside cabinet. He knelt over Ayve, aroused himself, and covered his behind and Ayve’s sex with it.

“That will hurt,” the tall man under him warned Stephen.

“I know,” he replied. “I don’t care. I want it.”

He kissed Ayve and moved his body over his arousal, supporting Ayve’s penis as he lowered his back and felt it on his whole. Stephen whimpered silently as the penis penetrated him, a tear falling from his eye out of passion. He lowered his body further until finally he was filled by Ayve again.

This was different than it had been in the evening. It was not the heavy, all consuming, nearly suffocating feeling the hard pushes of Ayve had given him. This felt sweeter, softer. Ayve’s hands lasted on Stephen’s thighs as he slowly, arms wrapped around Ayve’s shoulders, mouth swallowing Ayve’s kiss, started to move up and down. Very carefully, only an inch or so. He drew in his breath sharply but he would not stop this. The uncomfortable feeling this gave to his entrance was undone thrice be the feeling of being united like this with Ayve, being so close to him. He wanted more…

When Stephen awoke the next morning, Ayve was already dressed. He sat on the bedside, binding his shoes.

“You’re going now, aren’t you?”

Ayve turned to Stephen, face blank. “Sure.”

Stephen leaned over to him, sadness in his face, putting his arm around Ayve’s waist one last time, burying his face in Ayve’s hair. He suppressed any such foolish question as ‘Why?’, knowing there would be no appropriate answer. Ayve had decided so.

“Shall I get your daughter and order your breakfast?” Ayve offered. “That’ll give you at least a little more time to get used to,” he pointed to Stephen’s lower body “your present physical limitation.”

Stephen grabbed Ayve’s shoulder and dragged himself up, pulling Ayve into a kiss. “Breakfast with us,” he whispered seductively.

Ayve seized his chin. “I think I’ve put enough false hopes into you tonight, haven’t I? Stephen, this is over. Get yourself a little wify and father your daughter the long dreamed of sibling or if you want find yourself a man to share the rest of your life with, but I am not available anymore.” He stroked Stephen’s cheek and stood up.

Stephen felt involuntarily patronized. Why couldn’t he have a say in the matter? Right now his mind said he would prefer monthly meetings with Ayve to any nice ‘wify’. But he knew discussion would be in vain.

Ayve handed him the telephone to order breakfast and grabbed Stephen’s room keys to get his daughter, saying she was dressed and waiting for him already.

After doing the call, Stephen was quick to find his clothes and put them on so Lissy would not notice anything out of the ordinary (other than that he had spent the night outside their hotel room which he would be quick to explain with drinking a glass of wine too much).

His behind gave him quite some pain. Stephen was glad when he could sink into an armchair.

***