Rest For The Wicked

Title: Rest For The Wicked
Beta: keppiehed
Rating: NC-17
Summary: The nomadic commune of Pasby is home to many unique people—but Alexander doesn’t feel like one of them. Orphaned at a young age and recently left behind by his older sister, he has no family left and finds himself struggling with insomnia. Gremelda is the commune's healer—she tells him to beseech the fairy of sleep to help with his problem. Alexander is skeptical but desperation and in a fit of despair calls to Rish, the fairy of sleep.

Rish is an indentured fairy. He's been given one hundred years of servitude in return for his one wish: to forget. After losing his own family in the Wars, he can't bear the memories. He goes to Alexander, as is his duty, but they both realize what they share goes beyond fairy magic and Land Walker rationale. But Rish's sentence is almost up—his wish nearly granted—and no one, not even Gremelda, knows what will happen to him after.

---

Alexander passed a number of small shacks and a few tents on his way to see Gremelda, the healer. The people of his commune were nomadic, but they still had roots in their elders—which was why Alexander was swallowing his skepticism and making his way to the tent of the oldest and most revered member.

During the day, the commune was a bustling place. Everyone had work to do, even the children, and they pushed themselves to get everything done before nightfall, as that was the time for relaxation. Only Gremelda worked long into the night, prescribing elixirs for the ill and bringing babies into the world and performing any number of mysteries that the community could only guess at.

Alexander almost felt bad for taking up her time with his complaint, but ever since his last remaining family member—his older sister Jess—had married out of the commune and left, he'd had trouble sleeping. He'd tried all the usual remedies and some that had been decidedly unusual, but nothing worked.

"Hey, Allie!"

Turning around at the sound, though his heart clenched to hear someone else call him by the nickname Jess had given him, Alexander smiled when he saw who'd addressed him. Friends of his parents, the Lesters were very good to Alexander, feeding him when he forgot and enticing him out of his work as the community's second treasurer.

It was the Lesters who had convinced Alexander to see Gremelda; Mrs. Lester had been unable to have children, but somehow Gremelda had helped her bear and birth a lovely and healthy little girl. They had the utmost respect for and trust in Gremelda, and Alexander figured going to see her was the least he could do to humor them.

"Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Lester," Alexander said, doubling back a few steps to stand by the open door of their small, bare-ground shack. "How is Sarah?"

At the mention of their newborn daughter, both Lesters adopted a dreamy look before Mr. Lester said, "She's a perfect angel. We're very lucky to have such an agreeable baby."

Alexander nodded—usually, he might have invited himself for tea or offered to watch Sarah for them to have a moment to themselves, but with his recent lack of sleep he felt irritable and less than himself. "I'm very glad."

Mrs. Lester tilted her head, looking at him with concern. "Still not sleeping, love?"

Alexander shook his head. Strands of his dark brown hair fell into his eyes, but he didn’t brush them away. It was a bit of a shield, something he needed, as he felt so raw these days.

"Did you try the—"

"I've tried everything," Alexander interrupted. "And nothing worked." Then he felt bad for being rude. The Lesters were the closest thing he had to family, and he often imagined Sarah was his niece. He didn’t want to push them away. "I'm sorry," he began, but the Lesters weren’t having any of it.

"Nonsense," Mr. Lester said with an easy smile. "Say, why don't you bring some clothes for us to mend and wash for you?" He looked pointedly at Alexander's ragged and dirty clothing—not entirely unusual at the commune, but he was a little more unkempt than was the norm.

"I couldn’t trouble you," Alexander protested but it was weak—he hadn't had the energy to wash his own clothes these past few weeks, and he knew people were beginning to talk. Theirs was a small, close-knit group. Everyone knew the business of others as if it was their own.

"Now, you listen to me, Allie," Mrs. Lester started in, menacing despite her matronly appearance and soft blue eyes. "I don't want to hear another word about it. If you don't bring your things over, I'll go into your tent myself, and don't think I won't!"

Mr. Lester gave his wife an admiring gaze before turning to nod at Alexander, who sighed.

"I'll do it as soon as I get back from Gremelda's," he promised.

"Oh," said Mr. Lester, sounding surprised. "So you've finally decided to pull your head from your behind and get that lovesickness taken care of, have you?"

Alexander groaned before he could stop himself. "It isn't lovesickness, " he insisted, trying to keep the derision from his voice and failing. "It's insomnia." He wasn’t sure what had given them the idea that he was in love, but no amount of denial would stop them when they shared an idea like that.

They both nodded knowingly at him, heads bobbing in perfect rhythm. Alexander wondered if he'd ever find someone to be so in tune with. He doubted it.

"Run along, then, Allie, and don't forget that we're expecting your laundry tonight."

Alexander nodded and waved as he began again on his path. The Lesters always tended to railroad him, and he was unable to ward it off every time—that was how he'd first been roped into babysitting Sarah once a week or so, not that he minded at all. She was a beautiful baby and so easy to love.

Gremelda Whitetower, healer of the people of Pasby, lived in a small shack bracketed by two storage sheds. One housed her healing ingredients, crystals and stones and everything else she employed to treat her people, and that the other she used as a birthing or sick bed. She saw her patients in the main shack, which was painted brightest of whites, as if to make light of the fact that it was little more than four walls and a straw roof. Still, it did look inviting, or maybe that was Alexander's sleep-deprived mind fooling him.

He grabbed the ouroboros doorknocker and rapped lightly, not wanting to intrude in case she was seeing another patient.

More quickly than should have been possible for someone of her advanced age, Gremelda opened the door, her smile showcasing three proud teeth.

"Come in, boy," she lisped, her voice high and almost childlike. Her eyes were coal black but sparkling, her hair full, but white and bouncing. She walked back into the shack and took a seat on a dilapidated armchair by the fire pit—a small hole in the ground in one corner of the shack, surrounded by rocks. There were numerous vials and tubes filled with various colored substances, some bubbling, some steaming—most doing nothing at all.

Gremelda gestured at a rickety wooden chair across the fire pit, and Alexander gratefully sank into it. He was tired even just from the short walk across the compound, his legs achy and back tense.

"I've been expecting you, Alexander," she said. She gave him a chiding smile. "You took longer than you should have to see me."

Not knowing what to say, Alexander just nodded. The people of Pasby were a superstitious lot, some more than others. While he had faith in Gremelda's skill with herbal medicine, he wasn’t sold on the idea that she could see the future or communicate with the spirit world, as some people claimed.

"Would you like to sleep again?"

"Very much so," he said, unsurprised that she knew why he'd come—after all, word traveled fast, and gossip was traded like money.

"And have you asked Rish?"

Fighting the urge to roll his eyes—praying to some fairy of sleep wasn’t on his list of things he would do while sane—Alexander shook his head. "I was hoping for a draught or tincture or something."

"Why mask the problem when you can solve it?" Gremelda looked genuinely confused, though her sweet smile never wavered.

"I just think that once I get back into some sort of schedule, I'll be fine." Alexander was already starting to feel sorry that he'd come. If he hadn't been desperate, he would have dealt with it himself as he did all his problems. Still, even he had to admit it had gone on long enough.

"Very possibly true," she said, nodding in a circular way, her eyes never leaving Alexander's. "Or possibly not. I will tell you what, little non-believer—and, oh yes, I know exactly what you will think of my solution, but I don't find that I care." She ignored Alexander's half-hearted denial and went on. "I will begin the potion tonight. It will take one week to reach completion. During that week, I would like you to beseech Rish to grant you sleep. Trust in the world we have built, Alexander. And let it help you."

Alexander scrubbed at his face with his hands. "Isn't there any potion you can give me now? Something you've set aside? I don't think I can last another week—I have to work."

"Of course there is more," Gremelda said with an air of unconcern. "But what I will make for you is special and works best when it is fresh."

"I don't need anything special." Alexander could hardly keep the annoyance from his voice. It was only his ingrained respect for the head of the community that kept him in check. Unfortunately, that respect was battling his fatigue, and he wasn’t sure what the outcome would be. "Just the regular stuff will be fine, I'm sure."

Gremelda rose, inch by inch, until she stood only a little taller than Alexander's seated form. "I know what is best for my people," she said, mild but firm. "One week, Alexander. And I will know if you have not beseeched Rish… we are familiar."

Alexander left the white shack disillusioned. Beseeching a fairy? Could his pride ever suffer such a blow? He remembered during his learning years, when all the other children would speak of the fairies, what had been done for them, what had been given—he had been the only dissenter. He'd asked for proof, and none could give it. He'd even once tried beseeching as a child and nothing had ever come of it. He was certain the fairies were a myth, the idea perpetuated by those who needed reasons or excuses or ways to keep their children in line.

Alexander's own parents hadn't forced the idea down his throat, merely suggesting that he would know the truth when it was time. He'd always assumed the truth was just as he suspected—that fairies didn’t really exist—but his parents had died before they'd even imparted that certainty. His parents' death… that had been the last time he'd ever beseeched. He'd been twelve years old.

Now twice that age and thrice that skeptical, Alexander decided he could wait for the damned potion.

*

Without sleep, life loses reality. Thoughts lose focus. Sentences lose endings.

Alexander was losing it all, quite possibly including his mind. It was the third day of the wait, and his insomnia had only gotten worse. He'd babysat Sarah and could have lost her, half-unconscious when she'd rolled herself into the corner of her crib, her face pressed against the sheets. It was some preternatural knowledge of danger that had jolted him from his blessed and cursed sleep to turn her onto her back.

Now not only was he not sleeping at night, but he was falling asleep with no warning for minutes at a time. The Lesters had asked him not to return until he'd had a good night's sleep. The thought of what could have happened haunted him.

It was for that reason Alexander decided that while beseeching might not help, it couldn’t hurt, either.

Which was how he'd come to be sitting on the edge of his pallet bed, rubbing his eyes with his hands and wondering if he'd ever forgive himself for what he was about to do.

He sighed and then laughed at himself. "The worst that can happen is someone might overhear and make fun of me," he muttered to himself. He really was going crazy.

"All right," he said finally, looking around his room as if the fairy would pop out and wave a little wand at him any moment. "Rish, fairy of sleep, rest, and subconscious, I beseech you. Please, enter my home in the middle of the night and do your fairy magic. Let me sleep."

Of course nothing happened. Alexander told himself he wasn’t surprised, but for some unfathomable reason, he'd actually expected Gremelda's advice to work.

Deciding to give it a few minutes in case the fairy had other appointments, Alexander lay back on the bed, hands beneath his head, as he stared up at his tent's roof, which he'd become very accustomed to seeing lately. It was silly—more than silly, it was damned ludicrous—to believe that there was such a thing as magic.

There must have been a tear in the lining or a fault in the zipper, because the temperature in the small structure lowered enough that Alexander found himself shivering. Wind rustled the tent walls, shifting shadows around.

Movement by the foot of his pallet caught Alexander's eye—and he nearly jumped straight through the tent at the sight that met him.

A young man was crawling up the pallet, his short and spiky light brown hair leading the way.

"Who are you?" Alexander demanded. The tent flap was secured—there was no way for the man to have entered!

The man—almost a boy, really; he couldn’t have been past his teens, and so sweet and soft were his features that he looked younger still—laughed a high, unusual but somehow beautiful sound. "Pretty sure you invited me, mister." There were wings—wings—on his back, bright white but not entirely tangible, like mist and magic whirled together.

Alexander's face was blank as he took in the stranger, not comprehending what was happening. It was as though he was seeing through a fog—a lacy film separated him from true reality. Had he fallen asleep, finally? Was this just a dream?

Somehow, he knew it was not. "Rish?" he asked in a whisper.

The boy nodded slowly. He was close enough that Alexander could see his colorless eyes—a shade of grey too pale to be natural but too real to be anything but.

"I don't believe in you." Alexander struggled to get into a sitting position, but his limbs were leaded and he couldn’t find the strength. Still, he didn’t feel threatened by Rish—just the opposite, he was too relaxed.

Rish shrugged, a corner of his lip quirking. Faster than Alexander's blurry eyes could hope to follow, he reached out and pinched Alexander's thigh—hard. Alexander cried out and tried to jerk his leg away, but again it was too heavy, and Rish let him go, anyway.

"Believe in that?" Rish asked, bizarre eyes glittering.

"Yeah," Alexander grumbled, rubbing the area and trying to seem nonchalant about it even though the effort was exertive. "Because I can feel it."

Rish rested his hand on Alexander's stomach, his features serious as their eyes met. "Can't you feel this?"

For the first time, Alexander was aware of the complete madness of the situation. A fairy was in his tent, kneeling next to him, bony knees pressed into Alexander's side. A real, live fairy. Fairies existed.

Which meant his insomnia was about to end.

"Yeah," he breathed, focusing on the feeling of Rish's hand on him.

"Good." Rish grinned, and it was a trouble-making look if ever Alexander saw one. He pulled back his hand and swung a lithe leg over Alexander's body, straddling him and settling on his thighs. Had Alexander's body been more willing, he might have arched into the contact.

"So… do I have to do anything, or…?" Alexander gave a weak laugh. It was all too absurd to contemplate.

"Like what?" Rish's face was close to his, his breath tasting like approaching storms.

Alexander tried to shrug. "Say a spell or drink a potion or something?"

Rish chuckled and shook his head. "My magic's a little different from what you Land Walkers practice."

"Then what happens now?"

Again, Rish laughed. Alexander found himself charmed , instead of frustrated, by the sound. "Now you go to sleep."

At his words, Alexander's body began to slip away from him. He could no longer move at all, but he had no desire to. Rish was watching him with an indecipherable look, his eyes soft and odd but not inhuman.

Alexander was unable to move away when Rish caressed his cheek—and unable to lean into the touch, which he realized with a start was what he really wanted. So when Rish leaned down to kiss his lips, Alexander was grateful for the taste, even if he could only imagine feeling it.

"Sleep well, stubborn, proud Alexander," Rish whispered, kissing Alexander's cheek this time before slipping down to the foot of the pallet and disappearing altogether.

Alexander slept seventeen hours.

*

Fairies were, Alexander decided a week later, entirely too effective.

Sure, he was grateful that he was now sleeping a minimum of seven hours every night, and of course he relished the opportunity to prove himself again to the Lesters that he could take care of little Sarah, but honestly…

How would one contact a fairy, he wondered, if one didn't need the fairy?

Alexander sighed and checked on Sarah again. She was fine. Babies were easy to take of, but he dreaded her toddler years. By then, however, Alexander might be the community's primary treasurer, and he wouldn’t have time to babysit. He would also be of age to start courting a future wife, if he so desired. He couldn’t think of anything he wanted less at the moment.

He sat back on one of the comfy chairs Mr. Lester had built and stared up at the straw and mud roof. How hard was it to call a fairy back? And why did he even want to?

But even as that last thought circled him, he knew exactly why. Rish. He wanted that damn fairy like he'd never wanted anything in his life, and he didn’t understand it. He'd wanted other guys before, but he'd never really pursued it. Those desires often passed quickly, and he'd had feelings for women as well. Never before had he wanted a man so desperately—wanted anyone that much, if he was honest.

Every time he closed his eyes he saw the sparkle in the fairy's eyes, the mischievous way he goaded Alexander, the sweet echo of his voice. Were fairies even part human? What was Rish?

It didn’t matter. Alexander was used to pursuing what he wanted, and he knew from experience that he just had to get the whole thing out of his system and then he could get on with his life. He just needed to see Rish one more time, to satisfy his curiosity and maybe even his lust. Then he'd forget all about Rish and start looking for a woman to court.

He ignored the sinking feeling in his gut; the too-familiar sensation was nothing more than indigestion, he told himself.

Dropping his head into his hands and wondering at his sanity, Alexander said, "Rish, I beseech you." He waited a few moments but nothing happened. He hoped it wouldn’t take as long as it had the time before, because the Lesters wouldn’t be gone all night. "Rish, please, visit me again. I can't sleep—whatever you did didn't work!"

The silence in the hut was piercing. Alexander sighed. Then a soft, amused chuckle sounded almost right beside his ear. Alexander whipped his head to the side, trying to follow the sound, but it wasn’t repeated and no one was there.

In his other ear, a teasing voice said, "Liar…"

Alexander turned his head again, but the space was empty. "I'm not lying," he insisted, feeling strangely guilty for doing just that.

There was nothing more after that. No laughter, so whispers. Alexander waited, dejected, for the Lesters to return, and after telling them all that Sarah had done that day—which seemed a lot, for a newborn—he went back to his own tent and fell onto the bed.

At least he had learned something. He now knew that Rish could hear him and respond to him even without showing up. It would be easy enough to get him to visit again with that line of communication always open.

He would have to think on it more the next day. Alexander was asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.

*

"So, what are fairies, anyway? I mean, who are they?"

Gremelda gave Alexander a long, hard look, her black eyes dissecting him. After a long moment, she nodded. She stood up in increments, a creaking noise coming from—Alexander hoped—her chair. Grabbing an old oak walking stick, she started toward her front door without a word.

Alexander followed, having been given no choice. He'd visited her in the hopes of learning more about fairies, but at the same time, he'd decided to try to convince her that he needed a potion to help him stay awake. He'd told her Rish had done too good a job of returning his sleep, and now he couldn’t stay up if he wanted to, falling asleep at inopportune times.

Her answer was to brew him a potion that would help him stay awake for an hour at a time but wouldn’t interfere with his sleep once the potion wore off. Alexander felt a little guilty for making her work when he didn’t actually need the potion, but his desire to see Rish again was stronger than his sense of right and wrong—a fact that was beginning to worry him.

"Tree sap for flavor and consistency and rosehip for a sense of well-being. All other ingredients are in the brewing tent."

Alexander took that to mean he'd be gathering tree sap and rosehip. He walked behind Gremelda as she meandered between trees and over a slender crick. She pointed at an enormous maple with a thin metal rod protruding from it into a bucket.

He gathered some of the dripping sap into a vial she handed him. The rosehip was harder to find, and as they walked, she spoke.

"Fairies are people like you and me. They are indentured to the service until their time is up. After that, no one really knows what becomes of them. Some say they return to the earth. Others believe they come back in a different form—are given a second chance."

"What have they done to become fairies? Is it a punishment?" Alexander didn’t like to think of Rish being punished.

"It is a trade. Time as a fairy in exchange for their heart's deepest wish. But not everyone can be a fairy. Very few are chosen. Servitude can last one year or a hundred."

"So the sleep fairy… I wonder what his wish was…"

Gremelda looked at him from the corner of her eyes even as she appeared to be watching the ground for the flower. "The personal affairs of fairies should be of no concern to you, young Alexander."

After that, nothing more was said. They found the rosehip and brewed the potion in silence. When it was prepared, Gremelda ladled him a good-sized jar full of it and sent him on his way.

Alexander planned on seeing Rish that very night.

*

Gremelda's potion, Alexander decided, was entirely too effective.

His body felt wired to the extreme, every muscle taut and twitching even when he was sitting perfectly still. He'd already cleaned his tent and organized all his meager belongings. He'd gathered nuts and vegetation enough to last a week. It was past four in the morning and no amount of beseeching had brought Rish to him.

He took one last dose of the potion and lay on his pallet. There was nothing more he could do. He knew Rish could hear him, could possibly even see him—but Alexander now knew that he couldn’t make the fairy do anything he didn’t want to do.

Even though he wanted to speak to Rish more than anything, a part of him was concerned about the fairy showing up. Alexander's body was experiencing a strange reaction to the potion. It had to be the potion. He was hard and yearning for contact—for Rish. The blood coursing through his veins was lighted with fire, burning him in an intensely pleasurable way. He clenched his hands into fists at his side to keep from touching himself.

"Rish… Please."

A heavy sigh came from the farthest corner of the tent. Alexander sat up like a shot, noting right away that he had full control of his body, unlike the first time Rish had visited him.

Rish gave him a sad smile, his head cocked to the side as he took in Alexander. Alexander shivered under the intense scrutiny, unused to people looking at him so… deeply.

"You are not in your natural state," Rish said, shaking his head.

"What do you mean?"

Rish moved forward and knelt beside the pallet, a safe distance between them that did nothing to make Alexander want to keep from touching him. His white wings fluttered before sitting flat against his back.

"A potion in your blood. For staying awake. A trick." More than angry, Rish looked hurt. He rubbed one arm with his hand and looked away from Alexander.

"Not a trick," Alexander insisted in a low voice. He wanted to grab Rish, to kiss him, to tell him how crazy the things he felt were and how much he hoped they were returned even if it made no sense at all. "I had to see you."

"You could have asked…"

Alexander's eyes went wide. "I did! I beseeched you five times a day. You never came!"

Rish shook his head, looking at Alexander with pity in his eyes. Pity and a hint of amusement. "Of course I can't come when you're lying, mister. You have to tell the truth to fairies."

Alexander knew his confusion was painted across his face. "How else could I make a sleep fairy come to me?"

Rish laughed. "I am a sleep fairy, yes, but that's my job. I'm still allowed to visit people… if they ask for me."

Groaning at the stupid simplicity of it, Alexander said, "I didn't mean to lie or trick you. I didn’t know the rules."

"You must be tired," Rish said. His voice was light and yet Alexander sensed more than heard the disappointment in his words.

"Maybe a little," he admitted. "But I don't want to sleep now that I know how to make you see me." He paused. "Do you want to see me?"

Rish inched closer until he was sitting on the pallet facing Alexander. There wasn’t a lot of room, and their knees touched. Alexander's blood surged—whether it was from the potion of Rish's presence he couldn’t be sure.

"I have thought about you." Rish gave a sheepish smile, and Alexander was struck by how very human he was.

The first night Rish had visited him, he'd seemed almost preternatural. But this Rish was something different. There were remnants of the person he'd been before he'd become a fairy. And Alexander realized that he wanted to know all about that person.

"What made you become a fairy? I mean, you must have lost everything."

Rish frowned and drew back a little. "You Land Walkers have strange ideas. I chose to become a fairy."

"Why, then?"

With another heavy sigh, Rish flopped onto his back, arms over his head. For the first time, Alexander noticed his attire. He was wearing a fitted grey tunic that came to just above his knees—higher, now that he was stretched as he was. Alexander was distracted by the pale, smooth gleam of his thighs before forcing himself to remember what they were talking about.

"My family…" Rish chewed on his lips for a moment before continuing. "My family died in the Wars. Everyone I knew was gone. I didn’t want to be alone so I begged for a way to end it. A fairy came to me and promised me something better than an ending. A new beginning." Rish's features twisted like he wanted to cry. "He promised I would forget."

Alexander gaped. The Wars had been found over a hundred years earlier. He wanted to ask about that but he kept to the topic. "Forget your family?"

Rish nodded. "And the pain. But I didn’t forget. It doesn’t hurt as much, now." He took a deep breath. "It's been so long."

"How long?" Alexander used the opportunity to ask.

"Almost a hundred years," Rish said, confirming Alexander's theory. "That's the longest a person can be a fairy."

"What happens when you're not a fairy anymore?"

Rish met his eyes. Alexander was so struck by the heavy pain there that he almost didn’t absorb Rish's response.

"I don't know. No fairies know. I just hope I can forget, then."

Alexander didn’t know what to say. He'd never been good with comforting people. However, he felt a kinship to Rish, having lost his own parents. But he never wanted to forget. The memory of them was what made him want to be a person they'd be proud of. Alexander decided to do what he would have done for Sarah if she'd been upset. He pulled Rish into his arms and hugged him.

At first, Rish was stiff and seemed surprised. Then he melted into the embrace, kissing Alexander on the cheek and making the skin there tingle.

"I don't want to sleep," Alexander whispered, running his hands up and down Rish's thin back. The wings had disappeared but the air where they'd been sparkled like starlight. "I want you to stay."

"Stay?" Rish repeated, leaning back. His eyes searched Alexander's, and Alexander hid nothing. "With you?"

Alexander nodded. He brushed the backs of his fingers over Rish's smooth cheek, unable to keep his eyes from straying to the full lips that Rish wetted with a quick dart of his tongue.

"Okay," Rish breathed.

He couldn’t wait any longer. Alexander leaned forward and brushed his lips against Rish's. He didn’t want to scare the fairy away—he had no idea whether what he was doing was permitted. For all he knew, Rish would be horrified by the advance and curse Alexander to an eternity of sleep for his presumption.

Alexander pulled back—his lips tingled like his cheek had. Rish's lips were magic. He forced himself to look into Rish's eyes. Instead of anger or disappointment, there was a brightness to his eyes that made Alexander's heart stutter. With a smile that could only be called mischievous, Rish threw himself at Alexander, forcing them both back onto the pallet.

"Your blood burns for me," Rish said, a hint of awe in his voice.

Alexander could only agree, his words weak and insufficient. At that moment, Rish wasn’t a fairy, wasn’t a hundred years older than Alexander, hadn't lived through wars so old Alexander had barely read about them. Rish was only a person, a man who desired Alexander and didn’t mind that Alexander wanted him as well.

Rish's reality was cemented by the hardness pressing down on Alexander's belly. He rubbed against Alexander, huffs of breath falling from his lips until Alexander stole another kiss. Rish's lips parted immediately, his tongue sneaking kitten licks against Alexander's mouth until he gave in and kissed Rish hard.

Rish seemed to bloom with the kiss. His body stretched out on top of Alexander's, light in an intangible way but still so very real. Alexander's hands skimmed over Rish's arms and down his back. His fingers met the hem of Rish's tunic, and he slipped them beneath, brushing the soft bare skin of the backs of Rish's thighs.

The action seemed to wake something in Rish. He sat up and tugged off his tunic in one smooth gesture, throwing it to the floor beside the pallet. He bent back down to kiss Alexander again, but Alexander was too distracted by his body to return it.

"You don't wear anything under your tunic," Alexander said dumbly, hands frozen on Rish's thighs because he wasn’t certain more touching was welcome.

Rish just laughed and rolled them ungracefully so that he was positioned beneath Alexander, who sat up and stripped off his own shirt and undershirt. Rish threw a trickster's smile at him and tugged on the waistband of his pants. Alexander got the message and struggled out of his pants and underwear until he was as naked as Rish.

It hit him all at once that he was naked with a fairy. With his fairy, he thought possessively. Rish was his, and he hoped Rish knew it.

Alexander moved to climb on top of his fairy. Rish's legs parted and drew back, welcoming him in the space between. Alexander groaned at the invitation and settled atop Rish, their bodies in hard contact, Rish's thighs bracketing Alexander's waist. Rish's hips surged up and brought their cocks together and dual moans sounded in the small space. Alexander couldn’t help grinding his hips down, needing more of that contact, more of everything.

"Feel real yet?" Rish asked, a playful glint in his eyes.

His words brought Alexander back to their first meeting. "More real than anything I've felt before," he said, entirely truthful.

Rish was serious, an expression out of place on his features, when he said, "Me, too."

Alexander knew he was smitten—he knew that meant he was in trouble. A fairy and a human just wouldn’t work. Still, no matter what his mind insisted, his heart wouldn’t let him say it, wouldn’t let him put a stop to what was surely going to hurt him in the future. Instead, he moved his mouth to Rish's neck and bit lightly, almost wishing it was harder and Rish would leave with a mark much like the invisible one Rish had left on him.

Rish groaned and arched beneath him; encouraged, Alexander did bite hard, taking skin between his teeth and worrying it until a soft gasp passed Rish's lips. He pulled back, licking the faint mark tenderly.

Rish's hands were in his hair, on the nape of his neck, on his jaw as Alexander moved down to his sharp collarbone. He memorized the shape with his tongue and lips. Rish might want to forget, but Alexander never would.

When Alexander's mouth closed around a tight pink nipple, Rish groaned his name. Alexander's cock throbbed at hearing the sound of abandon and need. He'd give anything to draw that sound endlessly. Alexander moved to the other nipple, tugging with his lips and then his teeth. Rish was restless beneath him, his behind leaving the bed as he tried to find friction for his cock.

"Easy," Alexander whispered, a hand smoothing down Rish's trembling side. "I've got you."

Rish laughed breathlessly and dropped his head onto the pillow, letting Alexander take control. His still writhed, but it was less urgent. Alexander gripped his hips to keep him steady as he moved down further still. He circled Rish's navel with his tongue before dipping into the depression, smiling at Rish's laughter. He'd never imagined sex could be so fun, so easy.

"Please, Alexander," Rish whispered, his hands on Alexander's shoulders urging him down more.

Alexander nibbled and teased Rish's belly button for a long moment before giving in to Rish's need. He kissed a path down Rish's hairless belly, biting a sharp hipbone on the way. Once stationed over Rish's eager cock, he took in the sight unabashedly. When he met Rish's eyes, they were bright—almost frantic—and his face was flushed. His lips formed around a soundless please, and Alexander could deny him no longer.

With one hand holding Rish's cock, he lowered his mouth and took in the head. He tongued and teased the foreskin before skinning it down, the crown of his cock red and wet with precome. When Alexander's tongue flicked against the underside, Rish groaned and more wetness spilled from the head of his cock. It was sweet, as if Rish existed on fruits alone, and Alexander worked to bring more and more into his mouth.

Moving one hand to Rish's tight ballsac, Alexander kneaded it gently in time with his mouth.

"Wait," Rish gasped. Alexander stopped and waited for Rish to let him know what he wanted. He was surprised when Rish took the hand on his balls and moved it down, lower—at the same time, he spread his legs wider. What he wanted was obvious—but Alexander wasn’t sure what to do. Rish was the first boy he'd ever been with.

"I'm not sure—"

"I know," Rish said. He sat up a little and met Alexander's eyes. "It's okay. Just use one finger. I'll tell you what to do next."

Alexander still hesitated, and a worried creased appeared between Rish's rather delicate eyebrows. "Unless you don't to…"

"I do want to," Alexander said. He closed his eyes. "Very much. I just don't want to hurt you. I want to get it right."

Rish smiled, easing Alexander's fears. "It's you. It's right." He held out his hand and closed his eyes. Alexander almost took his hand before he realized there was a small puddle of slick stuff in the centre of it. Alexander looked at him, questioning.

"Fairy magic—very handy at times."

Alexander got the message and scooped some up with his fingers. He brought his hand back between Rish's legs and smoothed the liquid between his cheeks, his finger searching out the tiny entrance. When he found the indentation, he pressed with one finger, happy that it slid in without resistance.

Judging by Rish's groan, he wasn’t in pain. Emboldened, Alexander fucked Rish with his finger. He knew when to add another because Rish started moving forward against his hand. The second finger was more difficult to insert, but Rish guided him and soon Rish was crying out when Alexander accidentally hit his sweet spot. He searched for it again and grazed against it. He learned that Rish preferred a tapping motion to rubbing, and soon Rish's cock was leaking a steady stream of that sweet-tasting precome. Alexander dared not put his mouth back on Rish's cock—he looked near to bursting.

"You can have me," Rish said. His cheeks were dewy with sweat and tinged pink. His hands clutched at the bed covers, and his hips were rocking continuously onto Alexander's hand.

Alexander bit his lip at the sight Rish made. How had he gotten so lucky? How was it that Rish wanted him, out of all the people he must visit to give sleep to?

He withdrew his fingers and spread the remaining lubricant over his cock before kneeling between Rish's legs. Rish tilted his hips up and drew his knees back toward his chest, exposing himself.

Alexander took a deep breath and moved forward. He pressed the head of his demanding cock against Rish's entrance and let his weight do the work. Once the head breached Rish's tight ring, it became easier. Alexander didn’t breathe until he was most of the way in. He looked at Rish, needing reassurance that he wasn’t hurt.

"Keep going," Rish said. He was biting his lip again. Alexander checked to make sure his cock was still hard—it was—and continued in, awed when his groin pressed against Rish's cheeks.

Alexander hoped that Rish couldn’t sense how close he was to coming. Instead of pulling back and thrusting in as his cock was demanding, he leaned down and kissed Rish, taking his time to taste him. Rish responded with his entire body, his hands holding Alexander's face as their tongues slid together, lazy in their shared affection.

After a moment of indulgence, however, Rish began to rock his hips, bringing Alexander into him again and again until Alexander picked up the rhythm, confident that he could at least last long enough to bring Rish off as well.

Alexander braced himself against the bed with his forearms. The action brought his abdomen against Rish's cock, and within a few thrusts there was enough precome slicking the way that Rish could glide through, grinding up into the friction and then back onto Alexander's cock.

The knowledge that Rish was enjoying it so much—he was making little uh, uh sounds that were driving Alexander crazy—just made him more impassioned. His speed increased, the hot tightness around his cock clenching every time he pulled back.

"I'm going to come," Rish gasped, surprised eyes wide.

Alexander pounded into him, wanting to finish at the same time. Rish jerked and arched beneath him, and Alexander's stomach was wetted with his come.

Rish's orgasm made his hole vice-like, so much that Alexander could barely pull out—but it didn’t matter. Seeing Rish lose control beneath him brought him to the edge and over. He cried out, uncaring at the sound he made. His climax rushed him, leaving him breathless and shaking as his seed splashed inside Rish.

He tried to keep himself from slumping onto Rish, but the pallet wasn’t very large and there wasn’t anywhere else to go. He rested half on Rish, catching his breath. Rish seemed to be doing the same. Eventually they moved onto their sides, facing one another. Alexander noticed Rish's come was no longer wetting his stomach. Fairy magic was very helpful, indeed.

"Oh, wow," he said, when he could speak.

Rish smiled and nuzzled Alexander's neck, pressing hot kisses against the damp skin there. Then he pushed the stringy hair from Alexander's forehead, his actions tender and affectionate.

Alexander fought a yawn. It was early morning; low light leaked through the cracks of the tent. "You're staying, right?" He let his eyes fall closed. His body felt heavy, like it had when Rish had first come to him. Sleep was imminent, he knew.

"For a little while," Rish whispered. He kissed Alexander on the lips, but Alexander was too tired to do more than accept it. In his mind, he could see Rish smiling down at him, that sad smile he'd had when he'd first appeared in the tent hours before.

He was on the verge of sleep when Rish kissed his shoulder and said, "Sleep well… My stubborn, proud Alexander."

Alexander didn’t answer. He was afraid it would sound like goodbye.

*

As it turned out, Alexander discovered the next morning, it was indeed goodbye.

He awoke feeling well-rested and sated. His body was a little stiff, but in that pleasurable sort of way, making stretching the best thing ever invented. All was well until he reached out with one hand and came across only empty pallet.

"Rish?" he said aloud, knowing he would be heard. There was no response. Even though he knew in his heart it wasn’t true, he hoped that Rish was just using the washroom facility in the centre on the commune.

It was a few hours before he gave up hope that Rish would be returning soon.

He didn’t want to call Rish to come back—he probably had fairy things to take care of, after all—but he was tempted more times than he could count. To keep his mind off Rish, he visited the Lesters and offered to look after Sarah while they prepared and distributed the obscene amount of nuts and vegetation Alexander had gathered while on Gremelda's potion.

Sarah slept the entire time and therefore provided no distraction whatsoever. Every time the sunlight sparkled in through the translucent windows, he was reminded of Rish's wings, untouchable but so beautiful. As the day advanced and the sky turned overcast, Alexander could only think of Rish's near-colorless eyes. He couldn’t explain how he'd fallen so fast and so recklessly, but he knew his feelings were real. Bearing down on him was the uncertainty of what would happen to Rish once his time as a fairy was over.

Once he returned to his tent, he could stand it no longer. Instead of beseeching Rish, he just asked for him. Rish had said he was free to visit whomever he wanted—so when Rish didn’t show, Alexander had no choice but to assume it meant Rish didn’t want to come. Had Alexander done something wrong—had the sex been terrible? Alexander had thought it transcendent, but then Rish had about a hundred years' experience on him.

A horrible thought struck him. What if Alexander wasn’t as special as he'd assumed? What if Rish gave every sleep-deprived person the same treatment? Even as he thought it, though, he knew it couldn’t be true. Rish had just seemed too real, too… surprised when Alexander had kissed him. No, the previous night had been important to Rish. Something was keeping him away.

Every night for a week Alexander called for Rish, uncaring if the sound traveled beyond his tent. Let his people think he was mad or desperate. He didn’t care.

On the final night of hearing nothing from the fairy—not even a teasing whisper in his ear—Alexander started in on Gremelda's potion again. Since it only worked for an hour, Alexander made sure to time it so that there wasn’t a minute that he wasn’t coursing with potion. He was wide awake, but this time didn’t leave his tent. He sat there, as still as his vibrating muscles would allow, hour after hour. He alternated between beseeching and begging, and still no Rish.

It was late into the next day when Mrs. Lester came to visit him. He insisted in a trembling voice that everything was fine, but she was onto him. Still, she didn’t know about the potion and therefore didn’t know how to make Alexander okay again. It hurt Alexander deeply to allow her to worry, but his mind was too focused on Rish to figure out how to fix it.

On the third day of no sleep and no end in sight, Alexander visited Gremelda.

"Oh, Alexander," she said upon seeing him, shrewd dark eyes taking in his ragged and sorry state. "What have you fallen into, boy?"

"Love," Alexander said. He sank into the chair by the fire pit and closed his eyes. He wanted to sleep, knew he needed to, but instead of letting it happen, he raised a flask to his lips and drank another dose of the potion.

"It is the unwisest thing, loving someone who cannot love you in return."

Alexander scoffed. Then he shot her an apologetic look. He knew he should be more respectful. None of this was her fault.

"You must stop with the potion, you realize this?"

"I can't. He'll come back, I know it." He felt pathetic and abandoned, and he hated both emotions. He never gave in to self-pity, not even after losing his parents, not after Jess had left with her husband. He wished he could just think of Rish as another person who'd left him, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Gremelda raised a furry eyebrow but said nothing. They sat in silence for a long time—long enough for Alexander to take two more sips of the potion. She refused to give him more and his supply was running out. Enough to last six hours at the most if he rationed it very carefully.

Rish wasn’t coming back.

"Gremelda," he said, noticing that his words were slurred. "I need to know what happens to a fairy after their sentence is up."

"I told you, I do not know." She looked at him so pityingly that Alexander could hardly stand it.

"Guess?" he begged.

She sighed and tapped jagged fingernails on the arm of her chair. "I suspect they return to the earth."

Alexander choked off a broken sob. "That can't be."

Gremelda's eyes were soft as she shook her head. "As I said, no one can really know. It is the way things must be."

Lurching to his feet, Alexander bade her a raspy good night and returned to his tent. It felt huge, though it had always seemed so small, before. Before Rish.

Even though he was defeated, he went through the rest of the potion just in case. A feeling of finality settled over him when the last drop touched his tongue. In just under an hour, sleep would take him and any hope of getting Rish back would be gone. He asked, again and again, for Rish to return. The pride Rish had whispered of was long gone, though the stubbornness remained.

He couldn’t remember closing his eyes, but it was night-time the next day when he awoke.

*

Alexander sat by the Lesters' bonfire, letting them console him. He had said nothing, but the commune was small, and talk was shared with every chore.
"This isn’t the end of love for you, Allie," Mr Lester said kindly, patting Alexander on the shoulder.

Alexander knew all the platitudes. He also knew nothing would make him feel better. When he'd lost his parents, it had hurt so bad he'd thought he'd die—even now, his heart gave a twinge when he recalled them. Thinking of Rish was as painful and the lack of closure made it worse.

He buried his face in his hands. It was better to be with the Lesters than alone, but they were making it difficult to just push it all to the back of his mind.

A surprised susurration of whispers a few tents down had his eyes straining to see in the dark, but when nothing happened, he closed them again. More voices joined in, and the whispering turned to talking.

"What's going on?" he asked tiredly. The Lesters didn’t answer, only looked past him with surprise on their faces.

Alexander turned, expecting to see a new couple holding hands or something else that passed for exciting in Pasby.

Instead, he saw Gremelda standing next to a young man. His tunic was dirty, one shin was bloody, and he looked as though he'd been walking for days.


When the young man's eyes met Alexander's, there could be no doubt. It was Rish. Alexander's features went slack in shock, but Rish showed no signed of recognizing him.

Alexander stood as if in a trance and walked toward them. Rish was looking down at the ground, seeming shy and nervous as more people walked up to the pair. Newcomers were more than welcome in Pasby—they were good luck. The people saw so few strangers that Rish was a commodity.

"Where did you find him?" Alexander asked Gremelda when Rish still wouldn’t look at him.

"He has returned to the earth," Gremelda said, quiet enough that only Alexander could hear.

The words set a fire inside Alexander, a fire that had been doused by Rish's absence.

"I'm so glad you're here," Alexander said to Rish. His hands were shaking. He noticed for the first time that Rish had no wings. Was he human? Was that what 'return to the earth' had meant—not death, but rebirth?

"Um, thanks," Rish said. He smiled at Alexander and it was the same smile, only not as sad, not as old. "Me, too."

"He has no memory," Gremelda announced. There were concerned murmurs from the rest of the commune, but sound had been stolen from Alexander.

Gremelda had said that fairies were created in exchange for a wish. And Rish had wanted—more than anything—to forget.

Confused by his emotions—gleeful that Rish had returned and saddened that he remembered nothing of their time together—Alexander backed away. He let Gremelda introduce Rish to Pasby, calling him Michael.

After Rish had met nearly the entire town, save for those asleep, Gremelda began to usher him away. Alexander saw and quickly went to stop them.

"He can stay with the Lesters," Alexander said before he could think. The Lesters wouldn’t mind, he was sure—they had an extra bedroom for Sarah to move into when she was out of the crib. By that time, Alexander planned on winning Rish over and maybe they could build a more permanent home. Knowing he was getting ahead of himself, Alexander added, "If he wants, or…"

Gremelda gave him a knowing look. "He will stay in my extra shack for now, Alexander. Do not worry yourself."

"Thanks," Rish said, a small smile quirking his lips, making Alexander think he was embarrassing himself.

But he just couldn’t let Rish go.

"I'm Alexander," he said, thrusting his hand out.

Rish took it tentatively but when their hands touched, Alexander knew he also felt the connection between them. Rish looked at him with a frown, like he was on the verge of saying something.

"Michael," Rish offered after a quick glance to Gremelda.

"I hope you find a home here." Alexander forced himself to let go of Rish's hand after only a few too many seconds.

Rish's laugh was slightly confused. "I don't know why, but I think I have."

"Go back to your tent, Alexander," Gremelda said when the two just stood and stared at one another.

"I'm not tired," he said, not looking away.

"Well, Michael has been on a very long journey. He needs sleep, also."

But Rish demurred. "I feel like I've slept a hundred years."

Alexander's breath caught but he forced himself not to react. "I'll just show him around. Just an hour. Then he can return to your shack."

"I'd like that," Rish said with that impish smile that Alexander wanted to see again and again.

Gremelda rolled her eyes and hobbled off, leaving the two of them.

After a moment, Rish met Alexander's eyes again. "I feel like I recognize you. But I can't remember."

Alexander bit his lip. "It's okay, I feel the same way. We'll just have to get to know each other." As soon as he said it, he realized for the first time that he hadn't gotten to know Rish at all. But this was his second chance—a chance to know Michael.

"Show me around?"

Alexander nodded. As they walked, their fingers brushed together. Michael looked away, cheeks pink. His familiar eyes laughed whenever Alexander stammered or lost his train of thought.

No, Michael wasn’t a fairy and he wasn’t really Rish. But he was still Alexander's, and he wouldn’t be getting away this time.


The End.