The Artifact of Foex (44 page)

Rory shook her head, lips pursed.
“Crazy.”

“Yeah. I almost slipped in the shower because
of it. I wonder if this sort of thing will keep happening.”

“Who knows? Look, all god affiliates deal
with weird shit. The trick is to not let that stuff get in the way
of living your life.”

“She’s right, you know.” Journey said, rising
from the fireplace with a long, feline stretch.

Journey had changed to male, and he was
absolutely
gorgeous
. Lithe with ropy musculature, a
substantial penis and a sensitive, enduring face. Chet’s breath
caught and his dick hardened at the sight. He put his hands in his
lap to cover his erection, hunkering down. The towel wrapped around
his waist felt way too small all of a sudden.

Rory, on the other hand, sat up and whistled.
“Nice. You look hot enough to start a forest fire.”

“Thank you, Rory. I try.” Journey settled
next to her on the bed, smiling. He didn’t seem shy about either
his proximity or beauty. Well, he wouldn’t, would he?

Chet’s teeth clenched, his body tensing up.
He was attracted to both of them, yet he felt intensely jealous of
Journey. Ridiculous but true. What had Oak said about Journey? That
he wasn’t exactly discriminating. This was moving too fast... he’d
never imagined Journey might seduce
Rory
for Pantheon’s
sake. It was funny because Rory had been on his mind all along, yet
this contingency hadn’t occurred to him.

Rory, however, turned toward Journey like a
flower following the sun. “You seem to be feeling better.”

“I will eventually.” He looked away, gazing
into the fire. “We were both in trouble for a while there, weren’t
we? You bleeding out, and me... under him.”

“I remember. No wonder you’ve turned male. Do
you think... I mean, will you ever be female again?”

“Oh, of course. Just not right now.” They
made eye contact, and it lasted a while. A long while.

Chet squirmed. Rory’s back was turned, and
Journey wasn’t paying the slightest attention to him. Chet felt the
childish desire to point out that
he’d
been in trouble,
too. He also wanted to puff out his chest and claim that he was the
one who’d saved them, except it wasn’t true. Rory was a fantastic
fighter, and Journey had been impressive considering the tortures
Fenimore had heaped upon his head. But as the eye contact
continued—the moment was lasting
forever
—Chet felt
isolated and left out.

Rory leaned over and kissed Journey on the
lips.

Chet wanted to growl like an animal. Rory
hadn’t kissed
him
on the lips yet, not even when they’d
been going out. They’d been too shy and reticent, only holding
hands and cuddling. Now she was kissing a
Flame
, and the
Flame was kissing back. Journey stroked the back of her head, his
hands meandering up and down her body. It looked fantastically
sensual. Chet’s penis threatened to pop out of the towel entirely,
which now resembled a pup tent. His face was blistering hot.

Rory reached down and stroked Journey’s
exposed cock, caressing up to the tip. “Oh, wow. That’s really
soft, but it’s got this hard, springy core to it. Is it soft for
all guys, or just Flame?”

Journey drew back from her. For a moment,
Chet thought he was backing off entirely, and an intense spike of
relief surged through him. Then he realized it was an invitation.
Journey lay down, arms crooked behind his head. “I have what every
guy has. Please, feel free to explore.”

“What if I hurt you?”

“I’ll let you know if something’s
uncomfortable.”

“Um. Okay, then!” Rory grinned and started
touching up and down Journey’s body. She seemed most fascinated by
his cock and balls, playing with them intently.

It was too much. Chet shouldn’t feel this
way. He liked Journey and had enjoyed his company this week.
Journey had been his first and he’d always remember that, but by
the Pantheon, Rory was different! He felt so possessive of her.
Protective and jealous, too.

Who did Journey think he was, anyway? Anger
rose in Chet, hot as the fire crackling in the grate. He felt dirty
and sundered. He’d appeased Fenimore in the prostitute’s van, and
no one had ever thanked him for doing so. He’d surrendered himself
to the truck driver, saving Journey from having to submit to him.
No one had acknowledged that sacrifice except Fenimore, who’d been
an asshole about it, as usual. Now Journey was seducing his...
well, his ex-girlfriend.

Rory would be the first person to point out
that Chet had broken up with her, not the other way around. They
were no longer going out. He had no right to feel this way.

“It’s so
big
," Rory said, her tone
detached—an almost clinical observation—yet she was clearly
delighted. Like an archeologist with a splendid find in hand.

“It doesn’t need to be, but I like it this
way. Makes me feel all manly.” Journey snickered, his manner ironic
and effeminate. His body—his whole self—seemed relaxed and
comfortable.

Rory laughed outright. “Here’s to
manliness.”

Journey looked up at Chet with a smile as if
about to say something irreverent. He paused, frowning, though his
eyes were still glazed with pleasure. “Chet, sweetie, you look like
you’re eating a spoonful of bugs.”

Chet sighed. This was ridiculous. What was
he, twelve? His victimhood felt a little extreme, even to himself.
Hadn’t Journey just noticed him? Prompted him to talk about it? He
wished Rory had said something, but he couldn’t have
everything.

Chet cleared his throat. “I guess I’m not
sure what—”

“Oh, Pantheon!” Journey gasped and arched his
back, making little mewling sounds. “Rory, don’t stop!”

“What,
this?
” She grinned from ear
to ear.

Chet leaned over to look: one of her hands
was firmly holding Journey’s dick and ball sack while her other
hand was circling the tip. Any second now it would occur to her
that she could use her mouth on him, too. Chet felt tears rise to
his eyes, then blinked them away angrily. They didn’t want him,
didn’t need him. He was undoubtedly contaminated anyway; Fenimore
or the truck driver had, in all probability, given him a VD. Just
what he’d always wanted.

Rory shot Chet a grin over her shoulder.
“Looks like I’m pretty good for a beginner,” she chirped.

“He’s a
guy
,” Chet... yelled. His
tone was so loud they stared at him with mutually shocked
expressions. Chet lowered his voice self-consciously. “It doesn’t
take any skill to do that.”

“I beg to differ,” Journey said from his
reclined position, frowning.

“What’s eating you, Chet? You don’t need to
bite me, you know.”

“Nothing.” He crossed his arms and looked
away.

Journey said, “You want to come here, cuddle
and tell us all about it, or do you want to go away and sulk?
Because I’d prefer if you didn’t make a scene just now. We’ve all
been through too much today for passive-aggressive nonsense like
that.”

“It’s stupid.”

Journey sat up and Rory, in turn, backed
away. He threw his legs over the edge of the bed, still naked and
looking good enough to eat. He gazed from Chet to Rory and back
again. A corner of his mouth turned up. “Ah. I get it. I think I’d
better let you talk this over yourselves. Want me to step out?”

“No!” Rory cried out, arms crossed. “I was
having fun, and I don’t
want
to have to talk things
over.”

Journey raised his eyebrows. “I believe Chet
has something he wants to say to you and is having a hard time
spitting it out. I’m in the way here.”

“You stay put. What is it, Chet?”

Chet’s face was hotter than ever. He felt
like he was on stage in front of an audience. How could he reveal
his tentative, heart-felt emotions like this? But denying how he
felt would just make matters worse. “Um, Rory? I really like you.
I, uh, was hoping we could start dating again.”

She stared at him, and he wilted. She rolled
her eyes. “Abyss, Chet. You have the worst timing
ever
.”

Chet opened his mouth and shut it. He just
sat there like a doedicu. A small sound caught his attention;
Journey was covering his mouth, his eyes crescents. Chet realized
he was trying hard—very hard—not to laugh out loud.

“What am I, the best show in town?”

Journey took several visible deep breaths
before he was able to say, “No, sweetie, I’m sorry. It’s not funny
to you, I know. We’ve all just had a day from the Abyss. But may I
make a suggestion?”

“What?”

“Let’s fuck one another silly, order take out
and sleep before making any kind of big decision.”

Chet snorted, but he couldn’t help smiling.
“Just like a Flame. You’re such a hedonist.”

“Pantheon, yes. I’m the biggest slut you’ve
ever seen. I enjoy myself mightily, so why be ashamed of it?”
Journey shrugged, grinning unrepentantly. He turned to Rory and
said, “I suggest you squash him flat in the morning instead of
now.”

She straightened indignantly. “I never said I
was going to turn him down!”

Chet, who’d froze at Journey’s words,
straightened and threw back his shoulders back at her tone. She
wasn’t going to turn him down!

“Oh.” Journey looked amused and a trifle smug
at this exclamation.

Chet realized he’d worded it that way on
purpose. Reverse psychology? Journey was on his side without doubt.
Chet relaxed. As he did, he realized how astounding Journey was in
this form. He gazed up and down Journey’s muscled body, eyes
lingering on his dick. What would Rory think if Chet did what he
really wanted to do: grab hold of Journey and fuck him hard?

It was an invigorating notion. Fenimore had
been brutal while raping Journey. Chet knew it, but the sounds and
sight of it had detoured his brain and leapt directly to his cock.
He was hard at the thought.

Journey seemed to sense his mood. He met
Chet’s gaze. Then he stood, turned his back and leaned against the
bed, hands on the mattress, his ass decidedly pro-offered.

Chet stood and ran a hand up and down
Journey’s back. His back was fucking
hot
, lithe and
muscled, everything Chet had ever dreamed. Well, when he’d admitted
to himself that he dreamed of men. Definitely better than
Fenimore.

“Are you sure?” he whispered in Journey’s
ear.

Journey wriggled in place, his shapely ass
sticking out farther, his penis so erect it touched his flat belly.
“Oh, yes.”

“Uh, guys? What’s going on, here?” Rory was
staring at them, her expression everything Chet didn’t want to
see—alarmed, concerned, almost revolted. The woman he liked was
witnessing his desires, and she was unhappy with what she saw.

Not good,
Chet thought,
crestfallen.

Chet swallowed, though he didn’t draw away
from Journey. He almost couldn’t. Chet felt like a magnet attracted
to the correct side of another magnet. Journey was spread and ready
for him, and Chet’s dick was so hard, the need frantic within
him.

“Uh, Rory. I hope you don’t mind...” There
was no end to that sentence; it trailed off into the ether between
the stars, horribly incomplete.

“Mind what?” Rory looked about ready to freak
out.

Chet’s shoulders slumped. Rory deserved more,
yet Chet wasn’t sure he could adequately explain. He’d been fucking
men and Flame all week, yet his inner orientation remained murky,
opaque to inner reflection.

Journey glanced over his shoulder at Chet.
“Guess we need to keep talking and
processing
our
feelings
,” he grumbled, spitting out the words like a
curse. He sat on the bed again, scratching his chest with a
disgruntled expression. “Abyss, I’m never going to get fucked, am
I?”

“Is that all you care about?” Chet had been
looking forward to fucking Journey, too.

“It was on my list this evening, yes. Guess
I’d better get us started.” Journey rubbed his face. He turned so
he was facing both of them and addressed Rory directly. “Rory, how
long did you and Chet go out before he broke up with you?”

“About a year.”

“You’re from Eich Che, too, right?”

“Yes?”

“Flame aren’t at all rare at home like they
are in Wetshul. There’s Flame everywhere, just like in
Plainsdaugheau,” he said, glancing at Chet.

She shrugged. “Of course. Where are you going
with this?”

Journey was gazing at her with the air of a
doctor looking to make a correct diagnosis. “Bear with me. Because
you’re from Eich Che, you
must
know that same-sex pairings
are more often than not the norm, especially—though not
exclusively—with Flame. Which tells me you understand what we want,
at least on a cognitive level. I’m guessing you’re not so much
shocked by what’s going on as that Chet here wants me as male.”

Her expression reminded Chet of his own
reaction to Oak’s revealed identity. As if she’d been lied to and
didn’t like it. “That’s it exactly.”

Chet gulped. Could he explain this? He had to
try. “I kind of knew I liked both men and women before Journey—and
Fenimore—showed up, but I didn’t want to admit it to myself. Let
alone anyone else, especially you. Someone I liked. I mean, what if
you thought it was creepy?” What if she
still
thought it
was creepy? Chet almost wished he didn’t like men, but he did.
Whether she turned him down in the morning or not, he’d still be
himself. Her acceptance or rejection wouldn’t make a difference,
and she should know that. It was only fair.

“Uh. Well, I guess that’s... understandable.”
Rory looked like someone eating fish stew when the bones hadn’t
been properly taken out.

“It’s been an eye-opening week, and
I
don’t even know how to feel about it. It’s unfair to
expect you to accept me when I’m having trouble with this
myself.”