PRISONER: A Paranormal Yaoi Romance

2

The next morning he awakes with the feeling that something will be different today. Things are never different for Daeron. Every day for as long as he can remember has been exactly the same. He had forgotten how exciting different can be, how it feels to have something to look forward to besides the creatures and the blood and the screams of the Watchers.

He had forgotten what hope feels like. The monster opens his eyes and looks down at his side for the little thing. It is not there. Daeron is not worried. He knows it is not gone. There is no escape from the pit. He knows this all too well. Daeron slowly lifts his giant head and looks around for it. It is sitting against the wall, as far away from him as possible. It is shivering again.

He can see wet stuff on its cheeks again too. Daeron doesn't like that. He doesn't like any of that. The beast lifts himself and lumbers on all fours towards it. It whimpers at his approach, but it doesn’t try to run. It is smart enough to know there is nowhere for it to go. Daeron reached out to take it in his hand, but that seems to scare it. It folds in on itself until it is no bigger than the size of his thumb.

The shivering doubles. He decides not to pick it up just yet. Instead, he puts his hands on either side of it, hemming it in, and then crouches down to its eye-level so he can see it better. His chin settles on the floor in order to do this. He looks over his treasure contentedly and all seems well. He likes to look at it. He feels like he can look at it for hours. Pretty little thing. “So, are you going to eat me or just stare at me?” Its voice is frightened, but angry at the same time. A hint of temper appears alongside its terror and Daeron likes that. He gets distracted by its pretty blue eyes again.

Blue like the sky. Daeron missed the sky. He had missed being talked to. It has been a long time since anyone spoke to him. He thinks hard about what the little thing has said, but he can’t make any sense of the words. The noises are just a jumble to the dull creature and quickly forgotten. Daeron decides he wants to taste it again. He snakes his tongue out of his mouth and licks him between the legs again.

The little thing pulls them tightly together. He bats at Daeron’s tongue with his tiny hands. Blue eyes glare angrily at him. That only makes Daeron want to do it again. So he does. The strong muscles of his tongue force their way between those clutching knobby knees and pretty white thighs until it sinks down hard into the crevice of his body, pushing and rubbing while the little thing squirms and pushes and squeals.

He is pressed against the wall and held in place by Daeron’s strong hands. So little, so pretty, and so feisty. It kicks and throws curses at him the entire time he licks it, its cheeks getting pinker and pinker as its speech gets more and more flustered and high-pitched. The more it speaks, the more words Daeron remembers. The memory of language floats back through his mind and he latches onto it.

He is beginning to understand what it is saying. ‘Pervert’ seems to be the word the little thing calls him the most and that makes Daeron want to laugh. How long has it been since he laughed? Daeron doesn't stop licking him until he cries out and his little pink penis oozes white cream again and then Daeron licks it off his chest and cleans the salt from his cheeks. Then he sits back on his haunches and waits breathlessly to see what the little thing will say next.

He is fascinated by it. It stands, a bit wobbly now, on its tiny legs and clenches its fists, looking angrily into the dark where he can see Daeron’s glowing eyes. He yells at him, “What are you anyway? Some giant overgrown crotch-sniffing mutt?” Daeron smirks at him though he doubts he can see it. He looks nothing like a dog.

The little thing looks up at him again. It is amazing how brightly his golden hair shines even in the darkness of the pit. It reminds him of the fields of honey wheat back home, glinting in the sun. He wonders where home is. The little thing is looking at him still. He is squinting in the dark. Daeron knew his eyes will eventually adjust and he hopes it won’t be too frightened when it sees how ugly he is.