The Wings of Ashtaroth

Chapter 5: Mazna: Section IV: Dashel

Dashel: Qemassen: The House of Many Purposes

Aurelius's lips were soft and hungry against Dashel's, the prince's hands urgent at his hips and back, caressing his skin where it lay bare, and pulling his tunic where it wasn't. He tasted of salt and blood from where Dashel had broken his skin in his eagerness. Aurelius barely seemed to notice, pressed hard against him, as if he might push Dashel to the floor of the House of Many Purposes and fuck him right there if the night stretched any longer. The press of bodies was all that kept them standing, each guest—and there were at least forty—as trapped by their lust as Dashel.

He slid his hand beneath the folds of Aurelius's robe, over the firm plain of his chest, around his back, drinking deep of the moment, letting it saturate his thoughts till all memory of Thanos and of the attack on Mal at the elephant stables had passed. Almost passed.

Thinking about not thinking about it revived the echo of his father's raised voice.

Aurelius stroked a finger down the back of Dashel's ear, and the sound of his family's hatred died. Aurelius's touch could chase it all away and, Dashel hoped, his own attentions would similarly dispel the sourness that had descended on Aurelius since Ashtaroth's bride had arrived.

It was a passion no man in the city would dare call a lie. No man but Dashel.

Aurelius was the king of liars and lovers both. He laughed as his lips left Dashel gasping for air, the cold creeping in despite the crush of guests dancing and fucking and drinking all around them.

Dashel held his eyes closed as the ghost of Aurelius's touch dissolved from his skin, as he pulled away from Dashel's hands.

When Dashel opened his eyes, Djana was tugging Aurelius away from him and back into the press of drunken, reveling bodies. She smiled and winked at Dashel, and for a sliver of an instant he hated her.

But he couldn't hate her. Djana was a smile in human form. Maybe she even thought she was doing Dashel a favour—she was doing him a favour. Only it wasn't a kindness he wanted to accept.

He followed them, overwhelmed by the oddly sombre tone of the musicians Djana had hired for her party.

Aurelius shot Dashel a conciliatory smile over his shoulder as Djana dragged him to one of the settees lining the small, cramped room. He realized, at least, what he'd done to Dashel.

Not that it would be difficult for anyone to see. Dashel swallowed, positioning his arm so it disguised the obvious erection beneath his tunic.

Djana and Aurelius all but collapsed onto the settee. The furniture creaked beneath them as Djana draped herself across Aurelius's lap.

Aurelius grinned drunkenly at Dashel and Djana reached behind her to pour herself another cup of wine.

"Out of all the many purposes of this house, this may be my favourite" said Aurelius.

Dashel smiled and sat down beside them. He grabbed a cup from a table beside him and held it out to Dana. She poured him another drink. "No Ajwata music tonight?" he asked her.

Djana shrugged one shoulder. "I let Qanmi find them, and he paid so I did not complain."

"He's courting you now too, is he?" Dashel tried and failed to picture Djana pottering around Qanmi's house as exquisite property. Had the merchant known Djana would spend the evening in Aurelius's arms, he might not have been so eager to finance her fun.

"We will see what it is Qanmi eq-Sabaal is after, I have a feeling." Djana's smile wavered tremulously as Aurelius kissed her neck and then her shoulder and arm. She wriggled in his lap. Perhaps she hadn't been trying to steal Aurelius so much as share him. Dashel wouldn't have said no. "Dashel tells me you are in love, Aurel. You could prove it better than this, I think," she continued. She gave Aurelius's arm a playful slap.