Down In Flames

Phoenix watched the rain from beneath the Laniscara Bridge. The bridge was wide enough to fit five carts side by side. Made of strong gray stone, it was the oldest of the three bridges that straddled the Deone at its widest. The bridge soared high enough to make even the most fool hardy jumpers think twice about making the icy plunge. The Deone had cut magnificent cliffs out of the surrounding land. 

Phoenix asked many times about the bridge and its builders. Not even the town elders could remember their own grandparents talking about it. It was as if the bridge had always been there, connecting the Upper Home Farms and Atway to Ryndhart, the Lower Home Farms and Mima Iscara. Phoenix however hadn't seen much of those places. He lived in Ryndhart Cote, according to his father, the greatest little town in the Empire. Unfortunately his father was also determined that he never leave said bucolic backwater.   



The wet plastered Phoenix's sable curls to his forehead as he leaned out from under the bridge. The cold stinging droplets helped him chase away his father’s voice.  He’d brought up leaving for school even if it was the little agricultural school on the outskirts of Ida that would get him close enough to Ace and Cas that they could try to get gigs. Rather than a civilized discussion, he’d been treated to The Speech.



Ida would be a mistake, Phee. Ida's dangerous, Phee. It’s so big , Phee, it's not like Iscara, Phee. The wrong person sees you use your powers and you'd be in a facility faster that you could blink, Phee.  Ida's rough, Phee. People there would tread on you as soon as look at you.  Ida's not for good country folk. The Imperials and the Aristos and their followers looks down their noses as us... And what if you have a flare up?



And on and on until Phee wanted to plug his ears and scream.  His dad really had no other interest in the wider world outside of new crop techniques, and he expected his son to share his passion for a perfectly ripened pumpkin. Phee would never see anything but the farm if his father had anything at all to say about it.  



Crushed, Phee rested his cheek against the water-darkened ferouswood. They were only trying to protect him, he realized, but it hurt just the same that they couldn't trust him in the city, not even with Casea and Ace there. Phoenix couldn't even yell at them properly. His mother would give him the sad face, and his father would launch into The Other Speech, the one about controlling himself and his temper.



The number of times Phee had heard it, he could perform both parts in his he head. Sometimes he replaced his father with a cow hand puppet; anything to liven up the discussion.



So there would be no trip for Phee. Casea and Ace would live it up in Ida without him. They'd find a new singer, bust out onto the Ida music circuit and do wonderfully while he shoveled bird shit for the rest of his life.



There was a whole world outside of the Home Farms that he would never see. The really infuriating thing about the whole situation was that he couldn't really fault his parents. They were only looking out for his well-being. He was too dangerous to be around a city full of people.

On the farm, the only people for miles were his parents and the cows. His parents had seen it all and the cows just weren't interested in the strange powers Phee’d been developing since childhood. Phee leaned back against the bridge strut and reconciled himself another summer up to his elbows in sheep placenta.  



The sounds of crashing and branches snapping off broke through Phee's funk.  He watched in rising horror as a vehicle like the ones he sometimes saw going through Mima with supplies for the army careened off the side of the Dive, a hundred foot drop into the storm-swollen waters of the Deone.



"Goddess' Mercy..." Phee breathed then without a thought to his parents’ warnings or his own safety, Phoenix dove off the bridge, flying despite the absolute darkness and the rain. He followed the river, one hand trailing in the water to keep tabs on approximately where he was, then dropped into the water as the tank’s headlights flickered weakly under the turbulent water then went out.  



Phee sluiced through the water propelled by the same power that allowed him to defy gravity. His power felt so natural, like breathing. He couldn't believe sometimes that other people couldn't do the things his could. He understood instinctively how the world worked and didn't see why everyone couldn't sense the ties and strands of energy that controlled everything around them.



Phee's parents had taught him early that no one should ever know what he could do, else they might try to hurt him or use him to their own ends. Arcturus and Aisling Fallon were good stock, contented people used to hard work. Their only want had been for a baby and as his mother often told him, the Goddess had given him to them and it was their duty and honor to protect him. They'd raised Phee with their values. Honor and responsibility demanded that he try to help someone in need, especially given his abilities. Phee would be damned to let anyone die because he was too scared of being discovered to help.

Phee reached the tank. He peered into the interior. The billowing of clothing and a pale arm signaled its occupant’s distress. He gripped the door and wrenched it off its hinges. Phee then grabbed the poor bastard and kicked for the surface, letting the mangled tank sink into the depths.



Phee hoisted the broken creature onto the bank and laid him gently on the grass. The man wasn't breathing but he could sense the life force, powerful, hovering just beyond. He was battered and badly hurt but he wasn't giving up. Quickly Phee layed hands trying to stabilize and fix what he could. He started the man's breathing again, removing the water with a gentle draw of his fingers across the chest and reinflated the man’s lungs.



The damage was so extensive! Phee's heart sank. The stuffy engorged feeling from the man's head spoke to a swelling in his brain that would kill him quicker than anything else.  He could fix it all, but the repair would take a lot out of both of them.  Using his power to stabilize as much as he could Phoenix slowed the man's heart and relieved the pressure in his brain with as much care as possible. The magic required more contact than just the laying of hands.

Phoenix leaned forward as the storm broke, lessening the drenching rain to a soft patter. Suffusing the other man with warmth to replace that which had been stolen by the river, Phee touched his patient's lips with his own. With that deeper connection came the inevitable push of topical information. He couldn't turn it off without breaking the connection and causing more damage. He learned the man's name, Liam, and that he had been having a very difficult week thanks to his father. Phee sympathized.

Phee also found that the man was considered beautiful by very many people in the world, but inside Liam really didn't believe that he was beautiful and thought those very many people fools. Phee also recognized a dangerous soul.    This was a man that would leave a person cut to ribbons and smiling about it.  Phoenix glanced away using the topical thoughts to push deeper, looking for the darker brain that controlled the man's body.



This darker place was simpler, primitive, easy to understand but dangerous, it was the part of the brain that controlled instinct and the will to live, it also held the information he needed to heal Liam.  Phoenix angled his mouth against Liam's cool lips, nervous now at what he saw as he sank into the man's psyche. He would heal then get away from this Liam as quickly as possible, this was no one he wanted learning his secrets.



Phee found Liam’s hind brain which told him in particularly vitriolic sensation what was broken.  The rib that had shattered had pierced the lungs and heart and, Goddess help them both, perforated the stomach.  Phee would need to fully engage Liam to fix the mess.  It was dangerous to incorporate another person so completely, to cloud their minds enough that the repairs wouldn't cause them excruciating pain.  He swore to himself not to heal anyone like this again after how wrong it went the last time. Being politely raised ment that Phee would have to ask.



"Liam? Mr. Liam, Sir?" Phoenix lifted his lips from Liam's mouth. Once the connection was made he could maintain it with just a touch or no touch at all. Liam's eyes fluttered open, and Phee was struck dumb at how incredibly blue they were. Even in the moonlight left in the wake of the dissipating storm with everything else leached of color.

Liam opened his mouth to scream; the memory of pain was so vivid. He was alive... and nothing hurt.  What the hell happened to his tank? How was he alive? Why couldn't he move his legs...? His fucking legs!



"Liam?" Liam's eyes snapped up to the voice, thank the Goddess...someone was here. There was a moment where the only thing that existed was that face. Lit as it was by moonlight, the face was beautiful. The most beautiful face Liam had ever seen, and it was concerned. Not for the Prince of Karrath, not for Liam the Stallion of Rorrick, the person hovering over him just wanted the chance to help Liam because he was hurt. Liam knew this like he knew his own heart, how he knew... now that was a mystery.  He could feel this creature and the sensation was unlike any he'd ever felt. Disconcerted,  it made him wonder. How and why and who. Goddess help him, WHO?  He hadn’t felt like this  ever but he realized now that he’d had it how lonely he’d been for all his deviant life.



"Liam, I can fix you but it will either hurt you beyond your ability to process or I can make it very pleasant." Liam’s angel of mercy looked worried. It was too bad Liam couldn't move his arms else he would have reached up and tried to smooth the lines from the angel's brow.



"Don't... don't worry about me." Goddess, was that his voice? Liam sounded like he'd coughed up half the river.



"I'm controlling your pain right now but to heal you up I can't hold all of it. I have to change the way your brain understands pain for a little while. It will be intense." A flicker of a smile graced his rescuer’s lips.  The mouth was plush and damp from the river. It was probably a good thing that Liam couldn't feel anything below his waist.



"Liam, we don't have much time." Liam licked his lips. He'd made it this far under the angel's care. How bad could it be?



"What's your name, angel?"



"I'm uh... Phee." Phoenix smiled then, Liam was dangerous. Bleeding internally and barely alive, he flirted with his eyes and mouth, well enough to make Phoenix nervous. "I have to umm... with the mouth... again," Phee stuttered as Liam's lashes lowered until all that remained were twin slivers of blue.



"You want to kiss me."  Liam's amusement was palpable, the purr in his voice sent chills down Phee's spine. Looking down Phee noticed Liam's hair. The curls were platinum pale in the moonlight, leached of color.  Phoenix found himself stroking the close-cropped curls. Horrified he stilled his hand under Liam's head. He wondered what color Liam's hair would be in daylight, then mentally kicked himself.



"I can't do it without contact."



"Phee, Phee, darling, why would you think I could say no to the prettiest mouth I've seen. Ever." Liam had no idea whether the kid could do what he claimed. He just wanted to taste that mouth, to see what flavor would accompany that burnished cherry look. Phoenix laughed then, amazed at his patient's slick tongue and pressed his lips to Liam's.



Liam felt the boy, Phee, smiling against his mouth and then a flicker of tongue brushing against his lips. Liam opened his mouth with a delighted sigh even as the sensation took on another dimension. Phee kissed him not only at the luxurious joining of their lips, but everywhere.



Inside.



Outside.



Everywhere.



Phee touched in places fingers couldn't reach and Liam melted, warm and liquid against Phee who had moved during the kiss to make more contact. The Prince of Karrath squirmed beneath the stranger like the whore he’d often been accused of acting.



Phee's hands made a languid circuit down Liam’s body. Liam moaned and the kiss deepened.  The boy's tongue darted past his teeth or was it Liam's tongue making illicit forays past Phee's lips. Liam couldn't tell but he could feel it all.  



Phee straddled Liam, limbs intertwined. Usually the prince’s bed partners never saw his sheets in the daylight but for Phee he'd make an exception. For Phee, the prince decided that he could be a cuddler.  Liam shuddered as Phee did something to his innards that had his cock instantly engaged and filling with blood.



Sensing his patient’s discomfort, Phee broke the kiss to adjust Liam against him. Liam's pleasure-glazed eyes followed Phee's hands as they pressed and gently adjusted Liam's hips, what, he could swear felt like broken  bones moving around inside, snapping into place should have caused him tremendous pain, was only accompanied by more pleasure.



Liam murmured his thanks, the soft breath tickling Phee's ear. Liam's mouth was so close.  It was refreshing actually to be thanked instead of lambasted for using his talents. Phee'd been called a lot of things in his life but cute hadn't been one of them. Phee blushed remembering how the compliment had gone right to his groin. Casea was right. He was an easy lay.



"Are you ready Liam?" Phee asked. Liam was fully engaged. The part of Liam’s mind that recognized pain processed it instead as pleasure. This ability was the only gift his father didn't know about. Only one person knew and that person chose to die rather than endure the stain of being touched by Phee like this. Phee put his last conversation with Odrick out of his mind. Thoughts as distracting and painful as those only sapped his strength and his ability to heal. Liam had an enormous amount of damage to be fixed.  



Blue, blue eyes locked with Phee's.  



"You haven't umm...started?"



"Not yet." Phee smiled.



"Oh." Liam nodded and Phee took it as a sign to begin.   

The perforated stomach was the first. Phee healed and pushed back the fluids that had escaped. It was more like coaxing Liam's body to take the fluids back. Phee's own stomach fluttered as Liam's breath caught and he moaned. Phee's hips pressed down against Liam's until they were stomach to stomach. It was an old idea, leading by example. Phee provided a little instruction and energy, and Liam's body almost healed itself.  He leaned in and pressed his mouth against Liam's carotid artery. Liam's skin tasked like the river but underneath that was fresh soap and undeniable maleness.   



"Oh Goddess and Ancestors."  Liam hissed, squirming and moaning under Phee. His hips hitched and rocked against Phee's, helpless to control himself. Liam shuddered. He could feel everything; the repairs to his own body, Phee's heart thudding in step with his own, his damaged flesh healing over. It should have terrified him. He should have been screaming in mindless agony and terror.



Instead there was pleasure. It consumed like a fire set within Liam, he burned with every breath and with every breath became more intertwined with his rescuer. The connection was so strong it felt as though they shared both bodies. Liam could feel Phee's heart beating strong even as his own heartbeat threaded along. He could feel the coolness of the night’s breezes on his back even though he lay under a blanket of muscle that radiated heat.  



"Okay, Liam.." Phee whispered. "Your lungs next." The jolt of pressure left Liam gasping, slick precum coating the inside of his engineering pants. It burned Liam, that Phee could be so calm while he was wound up tighter than a drum. He couldn't believe it was a prince of Karrath moaning and bleating like a fucking virgin. He fought to keep from humiliating himself, to stop himself from humping Phee's leg like a mindless animal. He wasn't an animal, he was a Goddess be-damned prince and he was going to act like it.   



Except that as Liam steeled himself to resist; the thrust and ebb of pleasure turned rough. Each wave pulled him under, grinding down his will and using his body to its own ends.    Still he'd managed to disengage Phee's thighs and wasn't thrusting himself against Phee like a diseased doxy.



The control came at a price. The harder Liam fought each wave, the less he had to fight the next one with. He’d fucked more people that he dared to count, never until now had he ever thought that pleasure could be something dangerous and addictive.



With each passing second Liam's body reached for the next drugging dip into oblivion. It was this loss of control that had him struggling against Phee's grip.



"Stop... stop it! Please." Liam begged, gasping, dizzy from the constant assault.



"Just one more thing, Liam, then we'll stop."



Phee could feel how close to breaking Liam was but he needed Liam conscious and lucid. Phee could only see into Liam's body while the connection was linked to his and Liam could feel. Liam's heart was pumping but threadily.    Each compression was thrown off by something.



Phee carefully felt around with his power.  The cause of Liam's misfires was concentrated near the bottom of the heart. As he pressed into Liam with his power, Phee could see the sliver of bone from the broken rib protruding from the muscle. Phee slid the piece out of Liam's heart, fighting down the maelstrom of mistaken pleasure dragging the man under him down into madness. He removed the sliver of rib bone, staunched the flow of blood from the hole and sealed the heart muscle together with his power, letting the sinew knit itself together.  Phee then eased the bone sliver back where it belonged, fitting it into the busted rib like a last puzzle piece. He fused the cracked and flaked bone together with all its original pieces.  All the while Liam bucked and thrashed beneath Phee in the midst of an orgasm so violent that Phee had to pull back from Liam or be dragged under himself. Liam bucked and screamed incoherencies as he came.



Phee rode Liam as he bucked, trying to keep the man under him from further injuring himself. Phee used his own power to control his reaction as Liam thrust himself out against Phee's thighs. Semen stained their clothing.  The smell and the sounds of completed pleasure had Phee desperately fighting back his own urge to buck against his patient's warm stomach.



Phee realized the reaction wasn't about him. It was the natural effect of his power. Liam wouldn't thank him later for causing such a loss of control.  Pride drove this man. He only hoped that Liam wouldn't hate him. Phee'd asked, he made as much of an effort to secure Liam's permission as possible. The last time with Odrick he hadn't had the time to ask, his patient wasn't aware. It had felt like rape then and that feeling hadn't changed.



That thought made it easy for Phee to disengage. He lifted off of Liam slowly, smoothing both their rumpled and still damp clothing with his hands, drying where he could. He studiously ignored where the cum had seeped into his barely dried pants.  With these quiet mundane actions, Phee gently teased his essence away from Liam, distancing himself from a shimmering golden afterglow that played along his senses like and exotic fragrance. The temptation was there to share a bit of that pleasured lethargy, but that would be too intimate a thing for strangers to do. Instead, Phee decided to wake him, get the man back to which ever company had misplaced him.



"Liam, Master Liam?" Phee searched around the jumbled mess of memories he'd picked up from the man for a last name.



Liam, Lord Tacticus, Prince of Rorrick, Imperial Highness A’ Karrath.



Phee had just been frotted and soiled by the Emperor's second son.



So much for keeping a low profile.



***



Phoenix fought back the urge to giggle; he didn't know what to do. He was sure the sperm seeping into his trousers was worth more than his father’s farm. No wonder Liam had seemed so polished, he was a legendary seducer.



Everyone in the Ryndhart read the gossip. The Stallion was known everywhere for his prowess in the bedroom. Phee's own mother followed his peccadilloes with lurid interest.    Even Casea had let it slip that one of her major goals after she became a world-famous musician was to meet the Spare and touch his bottom just once.



Phee still felt bad but much less bad about the whole thing now knowing that it was Karrath's naughty prince he'd whammied and not some innocent soldier.  The prince had set down enough whammies on Ida's glittering upperclass that he could handle a little payback.



Shouting cut through Phee's thoughts.  He found his hand had drifted onto the prince’s head again and had been making gentle circles against the back of Liam's skull.  He settled another blanket of warmed air on the prince and then began to ease himself away as a crash sound and the flicker of lights came from the west.



There was no way he would let anyone catch him near the flipping crowned prince. That was just too much exposure.    He had too much to hide to allow that kind of public scrutiny to descend on himself and his parents.

Phee put Liam to rights, quickly removing any trace he’d been there. The prince seemed to be sleeping his eyes closed peacefully as the warmed air warded off the chill. Phee made to stand.

 

"You don't think you're running off after all of that, do you?"



Liam's voice was rough and scratchy from the screaming he'd done, but behind it was a languidness that drove straight to Phee's groin. It spoke to Phee’s newly acquired memories from Liam; it spoke of rough sex and cool smooth sheets, of warm summer nights where the only thing on the agenda was pleasure and excess.



Phee's mouth went dry. Liam was looking at him like Sasket the Cat looked at the small, twitchy rodents she played with before devouring.  She would let them go, let them think they'd gotten away before pouncing and clawing them to ribbons.  The hand tightened around Phee's wrist.



"I haven’t had a chance to thank you... properly."



Phee didn't think a word could sound so correct yet so wicked. Liam’s voice was arousing, frightening. And all the more dangerous because Phee knew in vivid detail what that voice offered. Phee had to leave before the prince’s searchers found them.



"N...no thanks necessary, sir. It was my p, p, pleasure," Phee stuttered.



Goddess, why was he such a idiot?



Liam's answering laugh pushed every button Phee had. Phee could feel the sound skitter up and down his spine then pool directly in his groin.  



"We both know that the pleasure was mine, but not exclusively, I hope." Liam's eyes wandered idly downward, taking in the simple white tunic, still damp and clinging to Phee's chest, then down further to an erection that was now obvious.



"That. That sort of thing isn’t done here, your Highness."    Phee blurted out despite the obvious. "It. It..” Phee took a frustrated breath. “It was the healing. I had to do it this way... so I could fix you. I tried to warn you.  Usually with the cows or the sheep, I just fix whatever’s wrong and they go baaing or mooing on their merry way, but with people it's a lot more complicated when you're hurt as much as you were, sometimes the brain remembers the pain even though it’s not happening anymore so I have to change that."



Phee clamped his mouth shut realizing that with every word he sounded more and more like some bucolic git.



Liam on the other hand simply seemed highly amused.    "You know who I am? Good. I’m glad I rate a bit more care than a sheep. So, you're a farmer? Young to be one though.    Are you still with your parents or are you a farm hand in the region?"  Liam pressed for information.  The angel’s eyes kept flickering to the edge of glade. Liam could tell all he wanted to do was escape.



"You're people are coming, sire... I have to go."  The crashing from the west had gotten a louder and searchlights could be seen flickering through the trees.    Liam's smile faltered, he could only hear the sounds of the night around them. The boy's hearing must be impressively fine, and he hadn't answered his questions. It looked like his rescuer wasn't interested in staying around for the kudos.   



"I get what I want, Phee. "  



The words were soft, but the certainty in them chilled Phee to the core. The Stallion of Rorrick issued a threat, one that Phee knew from the strength of his erection, that he wouldn't be able to deny. Goddess in her Glory, his parents would kill him.

Why did these things always happen to him!

  How come he was here getting hit on by the most unattainable man in the country when he couldn't even get the girl next door, Bria, to speak to him. Phee had to smile.    This was his life in a nutshell, completely, ironically nonsensically wrong. Still Liam's interest, sexual and otherwise, was a threat. Phee had to protect his parents and their livelihood. The whole town could be in jeopardy for harboring whatever Phee was.



“What would you have of me, Sire?"  Phee looked down, he didn't have to feign the blush of confused embarrassment.

The comforting sound Liam made confirmed that Phee's words had the desired effect. The prince initiated contact, his hands traveled up Phee's arms to his neck. Liam entwined his arms and gently pulled the Phee down to him.



Phee resisted, honestly not wanting to be drawn down. He was probably breaking all sorts of laws even just touching the prince with his grubby hands. He was completely sure that using magic on an imperial scion was treason.    However, he'd broken enough of his father's rules tonight.    What was a couple of imperial laws added to the...



Holy Lady!!   



Liam's mouth claimed Phee's, the farmer's thoughts scattered in a flutter like a doves set to the wind. Phee leaned and leaned; the sensation was incredible. The prince beneath him seemed to be drawing the sense right out of Phee's head. Phee's limbs went weak as incoherent thoughts flooded then receded in time with Liam's tongue.    The prince kissed to win. He kissed like he didn't need to breathe. Phee's heart thudded in his chest and even though his body roiled with tightly held lust, Phee knew what he had to do.   



Liam's kiss made the world go away.    



He kissed like Phee was the only person in the world worth kissing.  



He kissed like a branding iron seared past the flesh into the soul.   



He kissed like he owned Phee, mind and heart.   



Phee knew what he had to do.   



Liam's hands drifted into Phee's hair, pulling at the sable curls.  Push. Curl. Twist. Release. The prince's hypnotic, devastating touch had Phee wanting more. Phee wanted those kiss-bruised lips pressed against him everywhere.



 A shout, very near, penetrated Liam's witchcraft.

Phee did what he had to do. He reached out with his power, his own mind filled with regret, and erased the healing from the prince's memory. A light penetrated the embankment. There wasn't time to remove the whole episode; Phee took the things that were otherworldly about the rescue. He sent Liam into a light sleep, rested the prince's head on the grass. Phee licked his mouth. He felt scorched, burnt out from the encounter and branded by Liam’s kiss.  

Liam woke just as the searchers broke through the tree line. The name Phee and a feeling of well being filled his mind, followed closely by the sensation of damp curls beneath his fingers.