The Empty World | The Empty World Sequence [complete | rewriting]

Three (Draft 3) "Hello, Pretty Pretty"

"He made you happy."

"Yeah, but we got split up. I don't—what about you?"

"Most of what I know comes from other people's dreams."

"The magical land where lube and rational numbers of limbs do not exist!"

Julien and Morpheus spoke over each other at the same time:

"Neither which actually apply to you."

"Power plays and unattainable partners."

"I'm much more domineering in general than in bed."

"I can work with that."

"Let's go to bed." Julien tipped his head back towards the tent. "Flight from LA to Karachi takes near a day under best circumstances."

"Oh! Of course! Do—do you need to eat? Do you eat?"

Julien turned towards Morpheus as he climbed to his feet. "All liquid diet." He bared fangs as he smiled. "But I'll be all right for now. Won't bite unless you ask nicely."

Morpheus hadn't even thought about that. He sat still for a while, after Julien disappeared into the tent, wondering if future him had been bitten by a Vampyre.

He got up and entered the tent. The Djinn bowed, still dressed as some kind of television genies. "Do as you will," Morpheus whispered. The Djinn did not give up the guises of Loren and Hepburn, but changed their clothing: Loren only slightly so as to wear a dupatta, choli and shalwar, and Hepburn for a neck scarf, short-sleeved blouse, and calf-length skirt.

Morpheus found Julien resting on the couch, turned so that his back was to Morpheus. He was dressed in the tunica still and had an embroidered sheet draped over his legs. Morpheus would have sensed if someone near was in a state of sleep, so he knew Julien was awake.

"Lie down." Julien evidently had some ability to sense presence.

Morpheus slipped into bed and lay close to Julien so that there seemed only microns of space between them; he pulled part of the sheet over his own legs. He remembered, years ago, the way Remiel had lain with his wing over Raphael and so Morpheus unfurled his left wing and laid it over Julien's arm. Julien's consciousness soon drifted off to sleep, but Morpheus lay awake.

He'd slept beside family and beside strangers, but never one he knew to be attracted to his real self, never one to whom he was so attracted. The awareness was just that: a wary buzzing through his body that wouldn't let him sleep.

Gradually, the feeling eased. Julien slept peacefully and that meant—Morpheus had been careful not to dose him—he trusted Morpheus. As the night wore on, there was no sign Julien would wake and Morpheus was moved to return the trust. His ragged breaths became even and then slow and then he slept.

When Morpheus lost consciousness, his body reverted to its root form. If he'd willed his exostructure to form clothing, that would remain, as that malleable yet sheddable layer was alike to the stuff of his hair, nails, and feathers. So, when he woke he was dressed, but aware he'd lost any previously formed characteristics.

Yet, upon waking, Morpheus sensed no most needed form. He was chest-to-chest with Julien, their legs entangled, his left hand had slid beneath Julien's tunica, and he knew without raising his head Julien was awake. Morpheus had expected he would sense a desire for his form to be male, as he had yesterday, but he didn't sense any need to shift.

"Morpheus." Julien's tone sounded certain Morpheus was awake.

"I—" His voice rasped.

"I so just wanna rock your world right now."