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‘Are you serious?’ Esriaal huffed, glaring as they threw their hands into the air. ‘Three sixes? In a row?’
‘What can I say, Lamb,’ Narinder replied in a satisfied drawl, smirking at them from across the ersatz knucklebones table. His tail was swaying back and forth, with a smug little flick at the end. ‘Luck is fickle, and favours whomsoever it pleases. Me, tonight.’
‘Maybe with dice,’ they said, scowling back. ‘The weather begs to differ.’ They gestured at their tent’s thick canvas walls, and more importantly, what was beyond those.
The tent itself was more or less cosy, mostly due to how well insulated it was. It was certainly a hell of a lot warmer than outside, given the huge blizzard that had descended. Narinder had been here to ask a question about missionary assignments, as he'd long taken over head missionary duties, and it had already been snowing. By the time the two of them realised it was not going to be an average snowstorm, it was too late; it was practically whiteout conditions outside, and there was no way in hell Narinder could go outside in that. With little choice and with little to do, the two of them had somehow ended up playing knucklebones, hoping to wait out the storm for a few hours. It was now a few hours later, with no sign of slowing down.
‘I am safely here, am I not?’ he replied. ‘It could have begun while I was walking home. Luck is on my side whether you like it or not, Lamb.’
They rolled their eyes. ‘Uh huh. Want to play another game or not?’
‘I will not object to winning another victory,’ he said smugly, and chuckled when they directed a rude gesture at him. ‘Now now, Lamb, you should be a good sport when you lose again. In fact, I am so certain I will win, that I propose a wager.’
Esriaal squinted at him. ‘What kind of wager?’ they said, reluctantly interested.
‘A favour,’ he said, and they did not trust that smile. ‘Unspecified, of course, just for some spice. A minor favour, whatever the winner wishes from the other. And for me to win, I need to do so by twenty points or more.’
They continued to squint. ‘Too good a deal,’ they said. ‘You’re too confident.’
‘Yes, that is the point of the weighted odds,’ he said agreeably. ‘What is the worst that happens, you owe me a minor favour?’
‘Why do I think we have different definitions of minor?’
The smile they didn't trust grew wider. ‘Would you like to find out?’
Sometimes they really hated Narinder. Even when they didn't.
‘Fine,’ they said, picking up a die. ‘But I'm going to make you regret it.’
Five minutes later Esriaal was throwing their hands up in the air again as Narinder set down his last five. ‘Thirty nine!’ they exclaimed. ‘Thirty-fucking-nine!’
‘Thirty fucking nine sounds unreasonable,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘Ten to every three? That is just unmanageable.’
Esriaal snorted despite themself, picking up one of their dice and lightly tossing it at his head. At least he only barely managed to duck in time. ‘Alright, fine. You get your favour,’ they grumbled. ‘So? What do you want?’
He pretended to give it some thought, as if he hadn't obviously known what he was going to ask. ‘There are a few options,’ he mused, ‘but I believe I know the option I wish to take.’
To their confusion, he got up and went around the table, sitting directly beside them. ‘Favour or not, you may refuse,’ he said, confusing them even further. ‘However…’
He set his paw on the ground beside their hip. By necessity, that meant he was leaning forward, and so Esriaal was leaning back, staring up at him as he loomed. ‘Um. Narinder?’
He studied their face for a few seconds, unusually serious. ‘One kiss,’ he said at last, and they jerked. ‘Nothing more. One kiss, and only one kiss, to attempt to give you reason to want another. You never need do so again, if you do not wish, nor do we need speak of it again, if you do not wish to do so in the first place. One kiss. That is all.’
Esriaal's heart was hammering against their ribcage. ‘W-where is this coming from?’ they stammered, mortified. They’d never thought he felt this way, and the idea hadn't occurred to them, either.
‘I will tell you,’ he said, still looking into their eyes, ‘after you decide one way or the other. This is the favour I wish to ask for.’
Esriaal wasn't quite sure what to do. They were certain they hadn’t thought about this kind of thing with Narinder, and they knew that they didn't feel some kind of romance. Narinder was pretty good-looking, however, even if they hadn't quite thought that thought through before; he was still looming patiently, and Esriaal was… curious. Who did it harm if they gave it a try?
‘Okay,’ they breathed at last, face hot, and Narinder's eyes flickered down to their mouth before meeting their eyes again. ‘One kiss.’
‘One kiss, then,’ he murmured back. His paw cupped their jaw, tilting their head up a little. ‘No more, no less.’
Then he bent his head and pressed his lips against theirs. Esriaal’s eyes fell closed as he did; his lips were warm and soft, and a quiet hum vibrated through them and into Esriaal's lips as they cautiously returned the pressure. This was nice, they supposed. They weren't sure about having another, but…
Without pulling away and ending the kiss, Narinder parted his lips. Only that; a wordless offer, one that Esriaal didn't need to take. They were curious still, however, and so while it was a little embarrassing for some reason, Esriaal parted their lips too. In answer, Narinder tilted his head more, his paw firmer on their jaw, and they shivered as a slightly rough tongue slipped out and brushed their lower lip.
They didn't need to go any further, and that was why Esriaal chose to. When his tongue slipped away Esriaal's tongue followed it, parting their lips even further and not bothering to ask for silent permission in the way he had. He was the one who'd offered, and from how he opened his mouth in answer and shamelessly wound his tongue around theirs when Esriaal pushed inside, the effort was welcome. They shifted closer, only meaning to make it easier to reach him, but in doing so they accidentally broke the kiss.
Narinder drew away before Esriaal could even get their eyes open, and they almost demanded he come back before they saw his expression. He was studying them, and though his expression was calm, his eyes were… hopeful.
‘Well, Lamb?’ he said quietly. ‘Would you like more?’
They bit their lip, looking away. They could still taste him. ‘I don't know, Narinder,’ they said honestly. ‘This seems like it means a lot to you.’
‘It does, yes.’
‘Then we should stop here,’ they said. ‘I liked the kiss, to be clear, I wouldn't mind that on its own. But I don't have those kinds of feelings for you, and it's not fair to either of us to go making out if I don't.’
‘Then we shall not,’ Narinder said with a nod, and while the hope was gone from his eyes, he didn't look devastated. Or even all that bothered. He got up and moved back to the other side of the knucklebones table; Esriaal felt as if, in an odd way, he was instead going much farther. By the time he sat down again, in some ways he might as well be across the sea.
‘Would you still like to play another game?’ he asked, and seemed genuinely fine, so Esriaal just nodded uncertainly.
The next hour was a bit awkward – for Esriaal, anyway, Narinder continued to be bewilderingly normal for someone who'd been kissing them so tenderly just a little while ago – but then the snow had slowed. Narinder said a normal goodbye, left Esriaal's tent, and headed home.
Esriaal thought that maybe his ears drooped once he was a ways away, but it was too dark to tell. He'd be fine, they told themself, then went to bed.
Narinder was fine. Esriaal was not.
It started two nights after the kiss: a dream, vague, but one that left them feeling oddly lonely in the morning. Moreso than they usually were, anyway; part of Esriaal was always lonely, and had been since the last other sheep died. Never again did they have someone to trust, not as an equal. Not as a companion. They were always higher or lower than the other person, with more power or less, so there was no one.
Somehow, the loneliness lingering after the dream was more profound. They had no idea how. Just that it was.
The dream kept returning, growing clearer, and at first, it was always the same. The snowstorm was raging; Narinder was kissing them; they managed to pull him back in before they had time to see his face and ruin it for themself. Long hours of kissing followed. Eventually, so did other, more intimate things. Not sex, not right away. The two went to bed, and held each other. Esriaal would run their fingers through his fur; he'd detangle their wool with gentle claws. They told him their name, the first time they'd said it since long before they were captured and sacrificed. He told them stories Esriaal could never remember in the morning.
The thing was, in real life Narinder was just… normal. Nothing had changed. He didn't bring up the kiss. He talked to them precisely the same way he did before. Nothing was different about his daily life or schedule, and Esriaal knew this, because they were paying attention whether they liked it or not.
They were more aware than ever whenever they heard his voice out and about. They saw how he'd grown to laugh, to grow close to other cultists; he had friends, he had a life, and it was everything Esriaal had wanted for him when they freed him. They'd wanted to give him a chance to make himself into what he wanted to be, and by all that was sweet and good in the world, he'd run with it.
He was happy in this new existence at last. He all but glowed with it. His eyes were bright, handsome face finally predisposed to small smiles and sincere laughter, always in movement because he no longer had to hold still. He was beautiful. They'd never noticed.
This fixation continued for five months before Esriaal couldn't take it anymore. They had to at least talk to him about this, because they needed to understand why he'd kissed them, why they'd mattered to him when they'd never given him any reason they should. If they understood that, then maybe they could find a way forward. Maybe they could figure out how the two of them could work. Esriaal hoped they could – maybe they could even earn his forgiveness for not even giving him a chance, that snowy night.
They waited until mid evening, when they knew he should be home – most people would be, so it should be quiet. His cottage was on the outskirts of Asterales, so they quietly let themself into his little backyard garden, heading towards the backdoor – they'd done it often enough, he shouldn't be too surprised. They slowed down before they could get to the step, however; they could hear him talking to someone.
‘Is that so?’ he was saying, voice warm and indulgent. ‘That is a strong opinion to hold.’
A voice Esriaal didn't recognise laughed at that. It was a pretty voice, like chimes, or something else musical. ‘All of my opinions are strong,’ the person (woman?) said. ‘If they weren't, you’d stop asking me over, because you'd think I'm boring.’
‘It is a strong factor in why I continue to do so, yes,’ he said, and she laughed again. ‘I do not waste my evenings on uninteresting company. Those with potential, however, are well worth my time.’
‘Worth your time, huh?’ she said, voice sly. ‘Anything else I can trade it for?’
‘That depends entirely on what you have in mind. I do not usually consider time to be a currency, but I am willing to hear what you think will be so persuasive as to change my opinion.’
He was flirting, Esriaal realised faintly. Narinder had someone over – regularly, from the sounds of it – and he was flirting with her.
Suddenly, without any warning whatsoever, something blazed to life inside them – jealousy, a raging inferno of it. They were the one who should be in there, they were the one he should be flirting with, they were the one he'd kissed on a wintry night with hope in his eyes as the snow howled around them, they were the one he wanted –
But they weren't, Esriaal thought, jealous rage doused by rising misery and regret. They could've been. But they hadn't given him a chance, and like a normal person, Narinder had accepted the rejection and moved on.
They turned and quickly left the garden, not wanting to hear what his new interest said in return. They didn't want to hear any of it.
Gods didn't need to sleep, so Esriaal stopped. They couldn't suffer through the dreams anymore; the sweet casual intimacy, the loving sex, the long winding conversations that Esriaal couldn't remember in the morning. Their dreams were locked onto a false fantasy of that night, so Esriaal would escape the only way they could. There was always something that needed doing, and when there wasn't, there were crusades to go on.
They went on a lot of crusades over the following seven months. The only time they could sleep without dreams was when they’d run themself to stumps, so that was what they did.
The disciples were worried, but Esriaal kept up on all their normal work in addition to the extra they were picking up, and politely but firmly refused any attempts to ask what was wrong, only that it was personal. There was no real way to corner Esriaal into talking about anything, and as a god, they didn't have the same mortal needs, just mortal habits.
The side benefit of being so busy was that they had very little extra time to spend with anyone. That included Narinder. Eventually things would be normal again, and they could go back to developing the friendship they'd been building for the past handful of decades. He'd moved on from them, so it should be easier for him. Esriaal was just going to need some time to move on from him, themself.
They didn't see him much these days, anyway, other than during the usual sorts of administrative meetings. They weren't surprised. He had a new partner, an expanding social circle; a life he was building. Esriaal had always been something of a satellite everywhere they went, anyway. Friendly and warm, but peripheral. Being a cult leader had set them apart. Being a god even more so. That was the price of the Crown, they supposed. They'd get used to it eventually – they had an eternity to do so, more or less.
They tried not to think about that, though. Eternity sounded wonderful to mortals, but eternity wasn't perpetuity. There was a lot of loss in Esriaal's future.
Sometimes, they wondered when they'd become the Shepherd – just the Shepherd. No one knew their name, and someday ‘the Lamb’ would be an epithet lost to history; they wondered if by the time they became the Shepherd and nothing else, they'd be used to loss. They were Death, they needed to get used to it anyway. But maybe it wouldn't hurt anymore. By then, maybe solitude would be an old friend, not a solemn ghost.
They'd muscle through until then, and work on accepting the losses caused by their mistakes, not just outside forces. Right now, their best tactic was crusading, and the peaceful zen that came from indiscriminate, righteous violence.
They'd have to head back soon, snow beginning to fall through even Darkwood’s massive tree canopy, but they wanted to finish this clearing. They hadn't been paying much attention, given there were more dead monsters than they remembered making, and turned towards one of the embedded bomb bastards – only to jump as a small, precise fireball zipped past them and struck it, safely detonating it. They turned their head, bewildered, then flinched.
‘Narinder?!’ they sputtered as the cat made his way over. ‘What are you doing in Darkwood?’
‘Looking for you,’ he said, sheathing his scythe on his back. Huh. They'd thought some of the monsters had weird cuts. ‘It is the only way I could think of, as your disciples have seen fit to do everything in their power to prevent me from speaking to you.’
‘They what,’ Esriaal said blankly.
‘Ah, so I was correct and you knew not,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘I thought for some months you were wilfully avoiding me. Then I realised there were far too many convenient redirects by any disciple who happened to intercept me to be plausible.’
‘I don't know why they're doing that,’ Esriaal said, frowning to themself. They'd have to have a talk with all of them.
‘I do, fear not,’ he said. ‘It is the same reason I have been trying to speak with you.’
‘Which is?’
‘I have upset you in some way,’ he said, and they winced. ‘I know not how, nor how to make amends, but something about me has distressed you. I wish not to jump to conclusions, but I think it may have something to do with your changed habits as well. Something is wrong.’
Esriaal shuffled, unable to look at him. ‘It's not your fault,’ they said. ‘It's just some personal stuff, Narinder. I'm working on it.’
‘It may not be my fault, but it still involves me,’ he replied, undeterred. ‘Even if it did not, I would still ask, Lamb. It began to make me uneasy, half a year past, and has only gotten worse; I am troubled by what is happening to you, and more so by the day. You no longer sleep. Neither do you eat, nor drink, nor rest at all.’
‘It's personal, Narinder,’ they insisted. ‘Just – leave it alone, okay? I'm working on it, and it's my job to take care of me. You have other things to do with your time, you don't need to worry about me.’
His frown was growing. ‘Is there a reason worrying for you should not be a way to spend my time?’
‘Narinder, just – stop,’ they said tiredly, scrubbing their face with one hand. ‘Go home, I'm fine. You shouldn't make your partner worry just so you can come chasing after a god who can take care of themself. I'll finish up the crusade and go home, myself.’
‘Excuse me,’ he said, and when they dared to glance up at him, he looked stunned.
‘I don't know what was unclear about that,’ Esriaal said, shoving down their temper. They weren't frustrated with him, they were frustrated with themself. ‘Go home, Narinder. You've got people waiting for you. Leave me alone.’
‘Wait one moment,’ he said, eyebrows beginning to creep up. ‘What are you saying?’
‘Go. Home.’
‘Not that part,’ he huffed. ‘Are you under the impression I am living with someone?’
They shook their head. ‘It's not my business if you are or you aren't,’ they said. ‘It's up to you how slow or fast you go. You don't have to live together, and if she doesn't know you came all the way out here –’
‘‘She’?’ Narinder repeated, eyes widening. ‘Who are you talking about?’
Esriaal had a bad feeling. ‘I thought you had a partner?’
Narinder was the one sputtering at that. ‘What – no, absolutely not, why on earth would you think that?’
Well, Esriaal officially wanted to die, and permanently. They really wished they weren't Death right now, or they'd go figure out how to do it as fast as possible.
‘Long story,’ they said evasively. ‘That's not the point, Narinder, you should still go home. I'm fine.’
‘You are demonstrably not fine,’ he said, sounding frazzled. His tail was lashing behind him, his ears laid flat; he was as embarrassed as they were. ‘Setting aside all the signs I have already seen, you seem to have come under the impression that I have taken a lover, and I know not how you could have possibly come to that conclusion.’
‘It doesn't matter, that’s not the point –’
‘It absolutely matters,’ he interrupted, ‘as I believe I made my position very clear last year.’
They froze. ‘What,’ they said hoarsely.
‘Do you think my affections would fade so swiftly?’ he said, sounding boggled by the concept, and Esriaal's face caught fire. ‘That built up over decades, Lamb, for the first time in many millennia, and you think I simply went and found another partner?’
Esriaal wasn't sure they weren't actually on fire from their blush. ‘It’s what?’
He gave them an exasperated look. ‘We discussed this last year,’ he said with a glare. ‘You need not return my affections – you also made your position clear – but it is baffling to hear this is a conclusion you have ever come to.’
‘We didn't discuss anything last year!’ they snapped, outrage flaring. ‘You kissed me, I said no, and then we went back to playing knucklebones – you didn't explain anything!’
Narinder stared at them, then buried his face in his hands, ears so flat to his skull he seemed to be trying to dent the bone. ‘Fuck,’ he said into his hands, taking Esriaal off guard. ‘I could have sworn I – but no, of course not, I cannot believe this –’
‘Narinder, stop panicking and fucking talk to me,’ they demanded, losing their patience before they even had a chance to hold onto it. ‘Just – tell me what's going on, because I've spent the better part of the last year thinking you were skipping off into the sunset with whatever lady I overheard you flirting with and wanting to strangle myself over it, so if you could give me any fucking answers that would be great!’
‘Flirting?! Flirti – oh, hell,’ he said, starting out indignant and ending up frustrated, albeit not at Esriaal. ‘ You must have heard Jaryn, of course she makes a nuisance of herself even now.’
‘Who?’
‘Jaryn – she was a non-believer I met on one of the missionary trips,’ he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. ‘She chose to come here and convert. Unfortunately, it was not for faith based reasons, which I discovered in mid-summer, when she attempted some sort of ridiculous date of some such, I could not tell you. Apparently the way I spoke was ‘flirtatious’, but I thought it was banter – given your assumption, I can only assume it was fair for her to assume it, to some degree. She'd feigned interest in the teachings, so I had been discussing it with her.’
He shook his head, glaring at nothing. ‘It was a shame, she really was quite intelligent. I had high hopes she might choose to become a disciple in time, herself – she had a fine grasp on the philosophy of death, and interesting interpretations. If not a disciple, then perhaps a scholar of some sort; she had the aptitude. However, her ambitions lay in other directions. She was all of twenty at most, you know how it goes.’
Esriaal made a face. It was a problem they'd faced on more than one occasion, themself. Sometimes followers – particularly younger, starry eyed ones – confused an accessible god for an available one. They still blessed that they'd been sacrificed in their thirties; being permanently frozen in a state of still-settling hormones would have made them abdicate the Crown just to escape it.
‘She has been a thorn in my side since,’ Narinder finished, ‘but she is most assuredly not my partner.’ He studied them for a moment. That same hope from a year past glimmered in his eyes once more. ‘Did the idea truly bother you so much?’
Esriaal sighed. There was no way this wasn't going to be humiliating, so they might as well get it over with.
‘I overheard you because I was going to talk to you about this,’ they said, rubbing one arm as he continued to look at them. ‘I just – never thought to look at you that way before. Once I did, it was all kind of inevitable, but I'd already told you no, and you just seemed… fine with it. You didn't seem bothered at all. So when I heard you and her talking, I thought you'd – you know. Accepted that I'd said no and moved on.’
‘I had accepted that you said no,’ he said quietly. ‘Moving on would be a far more difficult endeavour. And not one I intended to embark on, let alone so quickly. Your rejection was very gentle. I saw no reason that I must waste the pleasant parts of being in love when it harms no one.’
Esriaal's face was burning again. ‘In love, huh?’
‘I see no reason to call it anything less than what it is, either,’ he replied. ‘It sounds as if you have reconsidered your rejection?’
Esriaal laughed tiredly, rubbing their face. ‘I spent five months dreaming about what would’ve happened if I'd pulled you back in for another kiss instead of hesitating,’ they said, and his eyes widened. ‘After I thought you moved on, I didn't want to dream anymore, so I just stopped sleeping. I don’t need to. It was better than… yeah.’
The two of them were quiet, surrounded by the hush of falling snow. Then Narinder took a step forward. Esriaal held still as he closed the distance, only moving their head to keep eye contact. They shivered as he cautiously cupped their jaw with one paw.
‘One kiss,’ he murmured, eyes burning. ‘That's all I ask.’
‘I'll be pissed if you only kiss me once,’ Esriaal replied impatiently, and Narinder chuckled, then pressed his mouth against theirs, just as warm and soft as last time.
Esriaal did as they'd dreamed time and again, lifting their arms over his shoulders and twining then around his neck as they kissed him back. His paws moved to their waist, his embrace as warm as his kiss.
They pulled back as he opened his mouth, at which he made a protesting sound, opening his eyes. ‘You asked for more than one kiss, as I recall,’ he said with a great deal of exasperation. ‘Is there a reason you are choosing to spite yourself? I was enjoying that.’
‘I want you to call me Esriaal,’ they said, and Narinder froze. ‘It's my name. I've never told anyone. But I wanted to tell you.’
‘Esriaal,’ he breathed, and it was reverent, wondering, possessive, hungry. Esriaal groaned under their breath as they abruptly went from ‘floaty from his kiss’ to ‘dick hard, pussy wet, and about to climb him like a tree’, just from the tone.
‘Fuck, Narinder, we need to go home,’ they said, voice rough. ‘I'm not fucking you for the first time in Darkwood –’
They jolted as he moaned. It was quiet, admittedly, but it was also heartfelt, accompanied with a jerk of his hips. Fuck.
‘Come on, let's go,’ Esriaal said, rougher still, snatching up his wrist and practically dragging him around in the rough direction of a pentacle portal.
This was, naturally, when the snow began to fall harder. Shit.
Quite abruptly, Narinder was the one dragging Esriaal around, off of the path they'd been on. ‘We will not reach the portal in time,’ he said at their protesting noise. ‘We must go elsewhere – one moment –’
They had no idea how he knew to find it, but even though the snow was beginning to fly thick and fast, they could recognise the long clearing where the Lonely Shack stood. They hadn't been here in years, but Narinder certainly seemed much more familiar with it, able to beeline towards it even as visibility dropped to near zero. There came a point where Esriaal just needed to trust him to know where the fuck anything was, holding onto his paw and allowing him to guide them. It didn't take long, at least, before he was opening the door and yanking Esriaal inside, at which point they both turned and forced the door shut again, as the wind was trying to prevent it.
‘Hell,’ Esriaal panted, beginning to shake the snow off as Narinder went over somewhere and began to do something. They weren't sure what, they were busy trying not to start shivering violently now that they were out of the cold. ‘Fuck, everyone back at the temple –’
‘Until the snow stops, there is little to nothing you can do,’ Narinder interrupted. ‘One moment.’
There was the abrupt sound of a fireball hitting something, Esriaal whirling around in shock. Narinder had used it to light the woodstove, they realised, and as he went to light a lantern, they peered around the room. It was a lot neater than it should be, considering how long it had been since Ratau had passed on. Wood stacked tidily, a cupboard with what looked like supplies of some kind, the old knucklebones table set in the corner, the bed made with a thick quilt.
‘How long have you been living here?’ they asked, managing to prevent their teeth from chattering (barely).
‘I do not,’ he replied, turning back to face them. ‘I keep up the maintenance, as Ratau asked me to do, in the event that it is needed. He was adamant it would be; I suppose the old rat would be pleased to know he was right.’
Narinder walked over to Esriaal, helping them with the snow, as it stuck much more than desired to their wool (both on their body and the woollen cloak they wore.) They were reluctant to give that up, only partially because it meant they'd be naked in front of him; they had wool, so that was fine. It was just that they were already cold, and without it the shivers would be too obvious to hide. They didn't have much choice, as it was soaked, but they hated it.
Narinder at least didn't make a fuss about them being naked, just chivvying them over to the stove. ‘I would have thought the wool would insulate you,’ he said as he pushed them down into a chair.
‘Yeah, me too,’ they said, only letting themself shiver because it was better than their teeth chattering. ‘It usually does, it just got too wet to do any good. I'll be fine in a bit, I just have to dry out.’
He nodded, then went about making something that smelled like – tea, maybe. It was oddly domestic, but it was also kind of cute. They'd blushed and looked away from him before remembering that he still apparently had feelings for them. They still couldn't quite bring themself to look at him, anyway.
‘Here,’ he said when it was done, handing them the cup. ‘We can speak when you are no longer shivering.’
‘Body warmth would help,’ they muttered thoughtlessly, then froze.
Narinder chuckled. ‘If you were simply cold instead of soaked, I would have offered,’ he said. Their left ear began to flick. ‘As you are soaked instead, that will be a method of last resort.’
They took a sip of tea, screwing up their courage, then looked up at him. ‘What’s it going to take to move it up from last resort?’ they asked lightly as he sat down. ‘I might be able to bribe you. Just name your price.’
His gaze sharpened, but in a way they instantly liked. ‘For you to dry off first,’ he said.
‘Dry isn't usually how we do that kind of thing, Narinder,’ they replied, and snickered as he began to sputter. ‘Take a breath, Nari, I'm not jumping on your dick right now. I also don't want to be freezing while doing that.’
He calmed himself. Mostly. His eyes were closed, so Esriaal dared to sneak a peek down at his crotch; to their satisfaction, there was a slight bulge already. Hell, if that was all it took to get him going, they were in for a treat.
‘I am not panicking,’ he said, and by the time he'd opened his eyes Esriaal had already looked up. ‘It simply keeps occurring to me that I may finally have you for my own, after wishing for it longer than I care to admit, and that makes patience difficult.’
Esriaal swallowed, mouth dry despite the hot tea. ‘You're gonna kill me,’ they whispered, face hot. He wasn't the only one who was easy, they supposed.
‘Esriaal,’ he said in an even voice, ‘cease tempting me. At least dry off your wool first, if we do this while you are in this state then I will be cross.’
‘I might be willing to take that risk.’
‘It may work at the moment, but you will be sacrificing anything else for the foreseeable future.’
‘Then I'll just get off thinking of this,’ they replied, and his breath hitched. ‘Here, compromise – you can touch me when I've dried off, as long as you let me suck your dick right now.’
Narinder moaned. Loudly, needy even as he clapped a paw over his mouth, and Esriaal was basically instantaneously hard, cunt clenching down on air instead of the cock they wanted inside of them. When he saw their dick, his hips twitched up involuntarily, his own dick starting to tent the front of his robes.
‘Get your fucking clothes open,’ they demanded, launching themself up so they could drop to their knees in front of his chair. He moaned again, paws already flying over the ties so he could do as they asked, and they shoved his legs apart as he pulled the robes aside. His dick was gorgeous as it finished hardening – exactly what they could want, with the additional intriguing detail of bumps all over the shaft, and their dreams really hadn't done him justice. Maybe that was just because they were finally getting what they wanted, though.
‘Esriaal,’ he panted above them, halfway to wrecked without a single touch.
‘How long have you wanted this?’ they demanded, restraining themself from shoving his dick in their mouth all at once.
He glanced away, ears ticking back. ‘Decades, as I implied earlier,’ he said evasively.
‘Nari, do you want your dick sucked or not?’
He bit back a whine. ‘Since the beginning,’ he said, and that paused them.
‘After I defeated you?’
‘Yes. Though perhaps before. I know not. All I know is that was when I was certain.’
‘But I'd just betrayed you,’ they said, trying to wrap their head around it.
He gave them a flat look. ‘Esriaal, you know the kind of god I was,’ he said with a little exasperation. ‘Was my ego bruised? Of course. But it means little that you defeated me – my ego cannot overrule my preferences, and as I'd just witnessed Death felled by a powerful adversary, a beautiful creature cutting down all other gods to be the remaining crown, all without having actually undergone apotheosis yet, I make no apologies for where my affections decided to lie. If you wished not to capture a violent god's heart, you might have tried not being an exquisite example of violence with purpose.’
Esriaal stared up at him, face afire, not breathing.
He lifted his eyebrows. ‘If you are dissatisfied with the answer, you might also try not asking the question.’
‘Fuck my mouth,’ they said, and Narinder barely had time to jolt before Esriaal wrapped their hand around his dick, parted their lips, and sucked him inside.
‘Fuck,’ he gasped, hips bucking up involuntarily, but Esriaal rode the shift, moving with him so he didn't go too deep. Not yet, anyway, they needed to get used to his dick before they tried deepthroating it.
The bumps of the shaft were a fascinating feeling in their mouth, Esriaal found as they bobbed their head. They hadn't usually been so tongue-focussed in the past, focussing instead on suction, but they couldn't stop themself this time – there was just something addicting in running their tongue over the bumps, dragging it over the shaft each time they pulled away before plunging back down.
Either they were significantly more talented than they remembered being or Narinder was just loud, because he couldn't shut up. They didn't want him to, mind, they were kind of sort of instantly obsessed with finding what they needed to do to make him scream, but it had been unexpected. Maybe it was because he was a cat.
‘Esriaal,’ he moaned shamelessly, one paw a careful guide on the back of their head, the other clutching the chair beneath him so hard his claws were digging into the wood. ‘Your mouth, your damned mouth – I cannot take it, you will break me – break me, Esriaal, break me –’
Esriaal took a deep breath through their nose, then grabbed his hips and plunged down. It was a bit of a trick, considering how much they wanted to moan themself, but they kept their throat relaxed. In a handful of seconds they had his entire cock in their mouth, lips wrapped around the base and their nose buried in the fur. It wasn't a scream, but Narinder still yowled as his paws flew to the back of their head and he curled over them, coming directly down their throat. They swallowed eagerly, throat moving over his textured shaft as they did, and Narinder whimpered above them as he rocked his hips against their face.
They finally let him slide out of their mouth when he was halfway back to soft, then pulled back. Narinder looked incredibly fucked out for someone who'd only had a blowjob, slumped back against the chair and gasping for air, legs still spread; when he opened his eyes to look down at them, all three eyes were hazy with satisfaction. They'd never made someone look like that before, they thought with a rising blush. It was almost enough to make them forget about their own painfully hard cock and embarrassingly soaked cunt.
‘You good?’ they asked innocently, their voice hoarse.
‘Better than I have been in decades,’ he said, and their blush worsened. ‘Hell, Esriaal. I thought you to be the god of death; it seems unfair that you would choose to be the god of sex as well without warning me.’
Esriaal burst into wheezing laughter, having to lean against his knee to stay upright. His purr was so loud they could practically feel it in the air. ‘Well,’ they said once they could, standing up and pretending they weren't currently turned on enough to fuck their way through solid rock, ‘you kept your word, I'll keep mine. I'll go dry off.’
They'd only gotten a step back before Narinder was already sliding out of the chair onto the ground – onto his knees, they realised with a jolt. He went to grab their hips and pull them in but for some reason froze just as he’d started to lean forward.
‘Do you have more than a cock?’ he asked hoarsely, and fuck but his voice was going to be a problem.
‘Is that a bad thing?’ Esriaal asked, and as if to make the point they'd just thought, Narinder outright moaned. ‘It doesn't sound like a bad thing.’
‘I was going to suck your cock,’ he said, and their hips jolted, ‘but if you would prefer for me to fuck you with my tongue, at least until I am hard again, then I am equally amenable.’
‘Get on the fucking floor,’ Esriaal said roughly, and Narinder immediately did so, the only time they'd ever seen him follow an instruction so obediently. That wasn't quite the right word, since he wouldn't have done it if he didn't want to, but they didn't exactly have the full brainpower at the moment. That was reserved for straddling his face, trying not to just lose it in the first few seconds, but it was hard. His paws were on their hips, guiding them down, eyes reverent before he closed them.
‘You are so beautiful, Esriaal,’ he murmured, then licked, and they knew they were fucked.
They didn't even know what noises they were making, not paying much attention to it, given they had Narinder's mouth to occupy their attention. They’d been too turned on to remember his tongue wasn't exactly smooth, but it wasn’t anywhere near rough enough to cause any discomfort; honestly, it was kind of adding to the experience, and he was smart enough never to lick their clit directly. He didn't need to; it was intense enough as it was.
‘Fuck,’ they were chanting under their breath, rocking lightly, mostly because his paws were coaxing them into it. Their hands were braced on the floor, and he was purring, which was vibrating through their nerves, and they'd never been so close so fast but – ‘Fuck, Narinder!’
They'd only just begun to come when he lifted them so he could shift down and push his tongue into their hole as their cunt clenched down, beginning to pulse as the tension broke. Esriaal was whimpering from the intensity of it, just how good it was to have him inside of them at last.
Then he started to lick them again, and they realised he wasn't finished with them. ‘Oh fuck,’ they moaned, and he purred louder in answer.
He didn't stop until they'd come twice more, each time pushing his tongue into their hole as soon as they orgasmed, and they were pretty sure he only stopped because of the oversensitive whine that escaped them as he slid his tongue free.
He helped them shuffle back so they were no longer perched above his face, and his arms were already moving to wrap around them as they flopped on top of him. Their face was hidden in his shoulder as they both tried to catch their breath.
‘Hell, Esriaal,’ he said at last, bumping his head against theirs. It was still a bit damp, so Esriaal quickly used a touch of divine power to clean them both up. He started to purr in approval, only to pause.
‘You okay?’ they asked, confused, and their confusion only grew when he began to snicker, trying and failing to contain it.
‘I have not been so well before in my memory,’ he replied. Sheep didn't usually wag their tails or something, but Esriaal’s docked tail had always begun to wiggle a bit when they were feeling more positive emotions than they could fully handle. It did so now, right up until Narinder said, so innocent a saint would be ashamed, ‘I appreciate that you have taken care of any mess. It is only a shame that you appear unable to perform the same trick with, say, the water still in your wool.’
Esriaal's tail stopped wiggling in favour of their left ear flicking back and forth, and his snickers grew. ‘Oh, shut the fuck up,’ they huffed, mortified, and dried themself off (but pointedly left whatever water had soaked his fur alone.) Narinder just continued to laugh at them, so they did the only reasonable thing they could do, which was push themself up and kiss him. He shut up gratifyingly quickly, at least, instantly focussed on coaxing their tongue into his mouth, as if that wasn't precisely what Esriaal intended from the start.
In what was maybe the loveliest half hour Esriaal had in years, the two of them just lay on the floor of the shack, making out and holding one another close. Esriaal’s dreams had been pale, weak illusions of the reality of having Narinder near. If his constant, deep purr was anything to go by, he was just as caught up in the moment. His tail kept curving around them. They never wanted to let him go.
The snow didn't seem to be letting up, the wind outside subtly shaking the walls from time to time, but the shack was warm thanks to the stove. Even if it hadn't been, Narinder was warm, and he seemed to have the same opinion of them. So they assumed, as he was shamelessly curled into them, paws tucked under their wool now that the kisses had slowed into quiet companionship.
‘It is going to be difficult to go through my normal day for the next while,’ he said at last, rubbing his cheek against the top of their head. ‘The only thing I will be able to think of any time I see you or something that reminds me of you will be this.’
‘I'm sorry I didn't give you a real chance,’ they said, but he shook his head.
‘Esriaal, I took many decades to fall in love with you,’ he said, beginning to gently run his claws through their wool; he found a small tangle and began to tease it apart, and Esriaal melted into him. It had been a long time since they'd had any hands but their own to tend to their fleece. ‘I am not going to hold a mere year against you – I believe I have something of a reputation for waiting.’
Esriaal giggled a little and he began to purr again. ‘It's not going to be easy for me, either,’ they said as he finished with the first tangle. He found a second one and Esriaal sighed happily. ‘You’re going to be right there, looking like this, and I'm going to have to behave myself.’
‘Mm. I may have a solution to that,’ he said. ‘I imagine it will be easier to control those urges if you have an outlet, and having held you now, I am reluctant to go without. If we were to stay together, half the time in your space and half the time in mine, I imagine that will give us ample opportunities to indulge ourselves. You could also choose to finally dwell in something other than a tent, as my bed will always have a place for you.’
‘Hey, I like that tent,’ they complained. ‘That's where you kissed me for the first time.’
‘And my home is where I will kiss you many more,’ he replied, but they could hear his smile. ‘Fear not, my love. You will come around to the good sense of walls and a proper door eventually.’
‘See, now you made it a challenge,’ they started, then sucked in a sharp breath as he abruptly moved, rolling them over so that he now lay atop them.
‘Perhaps,’ he said, looming above them. ‘And you can take it as such, if you wish. Or…’
‘Or?’ they prompted as he bent lower, their heart picking up speed.
‘Instead of making it a challenge,’ he murmured, ‘you could try to make me scream.’
‘You're gonna kill me,’ they said once more, breathless, face hot.
‘You are the god of death, that is hardly a permanent barrier,’ he said dismissively, and kissed them before they could argue more.
The cult was fine when Esriaal and Narinder were able to return the next day. Arguably they could have returned much earlier than they did, but the fire had been warm, the little shack extremely cosy, and the two of them had something to focus their attention on (namely, the other one.) Like the dreams Esriaal had suffered for months, most of the night was spent in a quiet intimacy that didn't require sex at all: lying in one another's arms, dozing off until he’d press his lips against theirs, at which point they'd both get started all over again. Narinder was greedy for them, any touch they'd let him have, and Esriaal felt like they were glowing from the inside out. How could they not? They'd never been so utterly desired by anyone, or at least anyone they wanted as badly as they wanted him.
While the cult itself and the temple grounds were fine (if hip-deep in snow), Esriaal's disciples definitely weren't, in a complete tizzy.
‘Shepherd,’ Habre said with relief as soon as they popped up from the portal, the pale furred marten rushing over. ‘We were so worried, we – oh. Um.’
Esriaal hadn't arrived alone, after all, and saw no reason not to hold Narinder’s hand as the two left the Lonely Shack, so they were still holding it now. Habre looked extremely conflicted.
‘You guys can stop heading him off,’ Esriaal said bluntly, and Habre winced. ‘We talked, and we're good. And while I'm not mad at any of you for doing it before now, I'll be kind of annoyed if you guys prevent my mate from seeing me during the day.’
Habre stared at them. Narinder, meanwhile, had snapped his head down to look at them, all three eyes wide. Esriaal ignored the latter in favour of raising their eyebrows at the former, and Habre nodded – but weirdly enough, his expression was relieved.
‘Very well, Shepherd,’ he said. ‘I'll let the others know, then.’
‘Why did you guys do it without asking?’ Esriaal pressed, and Habre winced again.
‘Can I speak freely for a moment, Shepherd?’
Esriaal nodded, tilting their head.
Habre took a deep breath. ‘Frankly, Shepherd, you looked fucking miserable,’ he said, blunt as a bat, and Esriaal blinked rapidly several times. ‘And you always looked more miserable after talking to him. We didn't know what was going on, but you said you were figuring it out, so we wanted to be sure you had space. That's all.’
‘Then thank you,’ Narinder said, taking both Esriaal and Habre off guard. ‘I am not pleased, of course. I was attempting to speak to E– the Shepherd in order to resolve the issue myself. But I mind less if it ensured we reached where we have.’
‘Oh, good, half the other disciples were worried you'd skin us if it went on much longer,’ Habre said, and Esriaal barely bit back their snicker. ‘Well. What do you want to tell the cult, Shepherd?’
‘People will figure it out on their own,’ Esriaal said with a shrug. ‘I'll only do an announcement of some kind if I have to, my personal life is my own. I don't care if you mention it if someone asks, though – saves me the effort. As long as Narinder doesn't mind?’
‘You are lucky I am not insisting on an announcement,’ he said lightly, and Esriaal didn't bother hiding this snicker. ‘It is fine, fear not. Though I believe we both have tasks to attend to – I imagine the other missionaries will require my presence, two of them were meant to leave this afternoon and will either need different supplies or to postpone for a few days.’
Esriaal nodded easily, tugging on his paw; he obligingly bent down so they could kiss his cheek, the tip of his tail hooked and his pupils wide as they did. ‘Alright. I'll meet you at yours tonight?’
‘I shall see you then,’ he said, kissing their cheek in turn, then left with an amiable nod to Habre. His tail curled back and forth slowly as he walked away, smugly satisfied.
‘Good,’ Habre said again, though he shook his head. ‘I'm happy to see you happy, Shepherd. You look better than you have in months.’
Esriaal rubbed the back of their head sheepishly. ‘There was a misunderstanding,’ they admitted. ‘On my part, not his. And I was pretty melodramatic about it.’
Habre wisely chose not to comment on that, saying instead, ‘At least it's been resolved. He looked surprised when you called him your mate, though.’
They shrugged. ‘It was going to end up there eventually, no need to bother putting off the name change,’ they said practically. ‘He and I'll talk about that specifically one of these days, but ‘mate’ makes it sound exclusive, which it is. So there you go.’
‘Going by his face, ‘one of these days’ will be sooner than you think,’ Habre said, shaking his head. ‘Puarjul will want to see you in person, if you're up for the scolding you're going to get.’
‘I've had a good morning, I think I can handle it,’ they said lightly, and followed Habre off through the snow.