A New Beginning [M/M 18+, Oneshot]

A New Beginning [Oneshot]

The great bronze bells of Fedum's Tower tolled at twilight. Their sound signaled the city's curfew as the last of the light slipped beyond the horizon, calling the King's faithful to their homes and beds. As the last deep thrum died away, a priest shuffled past where Cris hid, muttering the common Night's Prayer while clutching her prayer-chain, charms jingling against each other.

Her robed figure moved toward the nearby church. Cris often thought of the church as a hive that received its workers at the end of the night. Go home, he willed her. Obey the bells. The murmuring priest passed Cris without the slightest awareness of him, her gaze fixed on the great stone building.

Cris could have picked a better place to hide. His muscular, rough figure didn't easily fade into the shadows of the stone bell tower, and even his worn leather jacket picked up a shine from the moon. But even if the priest had caught me, she would have done nothing.

From the cut of her robes, Cris guessed she was only of the lower office, and her figure was one that came of many years of soft living. Priests like that claimed to love peace, but in his experience, they used peace as an excuse not to expose themselves to his kind, not even as a chance to use their holy magic.

It's not as though I'm cursed. Amusement welled up in him at the thought. They didn't know what they had missed out on, not that Cris had any desire to show them. His desire was for one person only, though he couldn't say the same for his body. That was shared rather more often.

More robed figures passed him. Cris curled his stiffening toes inside his boots and shifted his weight from leg to leg. The movement made him easier to spot, he knew, but he couldn't risk getting stiff in case he actually had to bolt. He was no slim and agile pickpocket; with his build, he could have become an Enforcer, one of Fedum's chosen.

Instead, an Enforcer chose me. Not just any Enforcer, but the highest office the church had to bestow. Eryk. Cris sank his teeth into his lower lip, trying to ward off the lifting, feathery feeling in his gut, as though his organs had all grown wings. It never changed, not since the first time he'd seen Eryk.

He leaned against the cold, rough stone and willed his mark to come. His mark. Cris grinned at his own joke, but his humor soon faded. If anything, he was the mark. He gave a silent sigh in an attempt to cleanse himself from conflicting feelings and thoughts. He had to stop before he got distracted. The moment was all that mattered.

Windows shut and voices quieted as the decent folk obeyed the curfew. Cris kept his breaths as shallow as possible, especially when a pair of Enforcers walked by, their gold trimmings and steel weapons flashing in the moonlight. Not him. Other than the fact that Eryk carried no weapons, he would also be alone, for he had no true need of a guard. That was the plan, anyway.

The moon moved across the black sky. Cris lowered his eyelids so moonlight wouldn't glint off his eyes, and splayed the tips of his boots out so their shadows would not break the line of the building. The long windows of the immense church across the road all glowed gold at once, as though everyone had lit candles at the same time. Light spilled from the windows, provided by the timed spell that had taken the priests a full day to recharge earlier that year.

Beautiful, but troublesome. No matter how Cris positioned his body now, the tip of his nose and backs of his fingers caught the soft light. Come, Eryk. Come now.

As he had willed it, light, quick footsteps approached, the sound of someone wearing soft, expensive shoes. The big man straightened, bouncing to bring back the liveliness in his legs. If that's not Eryk, I'm in for a bit of unpleasantness.