Monday, 6 April 2015

E is for... Eden

Blogging From A to Z is a blog challenge where participants post a new item every day (except Sundays), where every item relates to the appropriate letter of the alphabet.  You can find out more over at

E is for evil work and ill health.  Almost all my shifts today have only had half an hour between them, and my eye, although better than it was, tires easily and dries out.  On top of all that, I have a demanding parent whose methods of 'helping' my eye health have involved making the good one just as sore.

I have a half finished story featuring Eden, a dreamer demon.  It'll be here when I'm not ready to shove my head between two pillows to make the world leave me the hell alone.  Late, but here.

So, for now...  E is for Evil.  And Eughhhh, which is what the poor girl in the shop did on seeing my eye.

Story: Dreamers
Rating: 18
Word Count: 774

In the dream world the bridge looked stunning.  Blue lights danced along the arches, twining down the suspenders to a deck that stretched impossibly wide over the black and churning depths.  In the real world it would be lacklustre.  Generic.  The way from A to B.

In the dream world the bridge looked stunning.  Blue lights danced along the arches, twining down the suspenders to a deck that stretched impossibly wide over the black and churning depths.  In the real world it would be lacklustre.  Generic.  The way from A to B.

Eden dropped his folded arms onto the railing and stared into the roiling water.  The patches of shared dreams always seemed a breath away from a nightmare.  He was supposed to tip it over the edge, twist it into something that would make the little white dots of energy in the shadowy cities at either end of the span scream in their sleep.

These days, it was harder and harder to muster the energy.

“Nice erection,” a nauseatingly familiar voice muttered beside him.  Scowling, Eden sneaked a glance at the newcomer’s face.  He wasn’t smiling.  Good.  It hadn’t been funny.  “One of yours?”

“Don’t parade your ignorance.”  He rested his chin on his arms; from the corner of his eye he saw Kyran’s elbows settle on the rail as he leant back against it and wished he didn’t suspect the bastard was eyeing his ass.  “What are you doing here?”

Kyran leaned further back, until one side of Eden’s vision was obscured by a waterfall of blue hair.  “You haven’t been doing your job.”

Eden grunted but said nothing.  When the palm swatted across his backside he barely even flinched.

“I can cheer you up if you’re feeling depressed.”

How the hell he managed to say it with a straight face was beyond Eden.  Dark fingers began to thread through his soft white hair.  Eden managed to ignore them up until they knotted into the strands and yanked him upwards, straight into Kyran’s ready kiss.  His lips were impossibly hot, impossibly soft; his tongue, when it forced its way into Eden’s mouth, far too sweet to be real.

They were sleeping at opposite ends of the city.  This was as real as any pretence of affection between them.  Shoving both palms against Kyran’s chest, he managed to shove the other demon two steps back.

Two steps that Kyran immediately closed again, slapping both hands down on the railing either side of Eden’s slender body, trapping him.  One knee slid between both of Eden’s, nudging his legs apart.  “You always feel better after this,” Kyran murmured, vivid green eyes fixed on his face.  “Don’t pretend you don’t.”

There were degrees of feeling better.  Kyran always seemed to assume that what they did made Eden somehow happy, not simply solidified his hatred of him.

Normally Eden would manifest a weapon, fling himself at Kyran with fury burning in his veins.  They’d fight until they were exhausted, until they could barely stand, and what happened next would just be the logical manifestation of their energies.

Wordlessly, Eden turned in Kyran’s arms until his ass was pressed against his opponent’s crotch.

If Kyran was surprised at this change in their routine he made no indication of it.  His hands immediately moved to the buttons of Eden’s figure-hugging jeans—not that he could remember quite when he’d started wearing them during the times he expected to run into the other demon—and even if Eden tried to use his powers to make them frustratingly difficult to open, Kyran simply overcame the artifice like it had never existed.

Of course.  Kyran had become far stronger than him far too quickly for comfort.

One grey hand slipped inside the fabric; Eden’s hasty attempt at conjuring some shorts failed before it even started and, as Kyran’s hand started moving, he could no longer tell if the failure came from Kyran or himself.  As it worked and caressed, the other fumbled and shoved until his jeans were around his thighs and when it retreated, it was only for as long as it took for Kyran to free his cock.

Eden grit his teeth against the noises that rose involuntarily in his chest as Kyran pressed into him.  They were demons in full control of their non-existent surroundings, it didn’t have to hurt: either could create lube, could ease his pain.  Kyran always seemed to forget, and Eden wanted to remember.  His short experience of humanity taught him the best way to remember was always through pain.

The first thrust still jolted out a grunt.

Kyran hummed his amusement, squeezing Eden’s prick until he barely bit back his whimper.  It bobbed at the touch, at each thrust.  His breath was hot against his neck as he breathed, “nice erection.”

One day Eden would have his revenge.

Just as soon as all this stopped feeling so insufferably good.

1 comment:

  1. You definitely have talent. I hope your eyes feel better.


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