Adventurerers! Planning [Closed to lilgiastar and The Dark L

"Ignoring feelings is very unhealthy, and it is wonderful progress that you have recognized that you can no longer ignore yours even if it took punching someone," Healer Vita said, making sure there was no judgement or censure in her voice. "You have also always felt feelings, but you have gotten so used to ignoring them that there is a disconnect and an inability to identify them. Feelings are not like basic math where you don't need to continually practice it to know two plus two makes four - it is more complicated like the mechanical parts in a grandfather cuckoo clock that has to keep time, get the bird out to call the hours, and have the swinging pendulum. I do have something that can assist you, however."

Healter Vita leaned over to open a desk drawer and pulled out a colorful looking flyer that had a wheel on it. "This is called the emotion wheel," she explained with a smile as she turned the paper around so it wasn't upside down for Art and pointed to the label above the wheel. "The inside 7 emotions are your basic emotions. Those are sad, bad, happy, fearful, surprise, disgust, and anger. The second layer of the wheel are the slightly more complicated feelings in each category, like being surprised means you can feel startled or confused for the more negative side of surprise, or excited and amazed for the brighter side of surprised. You will also see that there are repeats of some feelings - like embarrassment in the outer tier can be disgust or sadness. An example of disgusted embarrassment would be feeling embarrassed at going to a dinner only to find out you had accidentally put on a dirty pair of pants that was accidentally put too close to the clean ones you had laid out so people could see the dirt on your bottom where you had sat on a rock. Sad embarrassment would be like someone pointing at that dirt and then making fun of you for it."

She tapped the paper twice then folded her hands on the desk. "Feelings are complicated, and learning to identify it down to the basics can help you figure out why things are making you sad, angry, or happy," she told Art. "You should keep that with you and start referring to it like an... emotional dictionary or thesaurus. Being confused often makes people angry and more willing to do things like punch someone, and ignoring your feelings will keep making you more confused because your mind wants to make sense of all these new feelings. Let's talk about the punching incident, and you can point out what things you think you might have been feeling when it happened, and we can try to identify what basic emotions caused that."

---

Adriel yawned as he walked through Oxford campus to head to his physics class. He absolutely loved math and had no problem with going to this class, but the next one was PPE (Philosophy, Politics and Economics) and he really didn't want to do it. He had already gone through the first term, but his father was apparently done putting up with his shit because he was threatening to withhold a trip to Ur from him unless he finished the course. He had had to take a philosophy class last year, and it was either this one with the three year duration or Philosophy and Modern Languages that had had a four year, and he had needed at least one term in philosophy - or any subject that had essay work, and he thought philosophy might be fun - to move on to Theology and Religion. He really hated the amount of reading he had to do, absolutely loathed Plato and Aristotle for their close minded philosophy that was for some reason celebrated (his essay was absolutely scathing and critical in how it tore apart their philosophy then was replaced with something much better, and for some god forsaken reason it had earned him the top grade in the finals when he was fully expecting a fail), and completely despised the politics aspect of it. The Economy part of the class wasn't bad, though. Finding philosophy in economy had actually been fun. Ugh... Why did he have to do so good in that class? He frowned as he entered the building because it was complete bullshit. Huh, about as much bullshit as what he was seeing down one of the emptier hallways, actually.

"-cunt," he overheard the blonde guy curse as he shoved a little bookworm who was clutching a text to his chest and obviously trying to get back to the main hall where Adriel was until he had been shoved back. "Now you'll either start doing my work for me, or I'll kick your bloody arse every day until you do. And if you show me up again in Pennington's class, you won't be able to move for a week when I'm done with you so all of your grades tank."

Hm, definitely a bullying attempt. Tall and dark hair by him was obviously also supposed to be acting as a lookout, but he was watching the little guy get shoved around with an amused grin. Obviously first or second years - they were both young - but it didn't stop them from looking like they were probably on the university's rugby team. And of course all three of them were in his father's class. How the hell did tweedle dee and tweedle dum get into Archeology and Anthropology? Or no, father was filling in for history this term for one of the classes because the old professor had suddenly passed away and the new one could not handle the large workload that the old one had yet. Ah, fuck, and the blondie just sent bookworm sprawling, bookworm had noticed that he had stopped, and was sending him some very sad eyes.

Adriel was a sucker for sad eyes. Especially when they came from defenseless and cute men or women, even if he had no intention of taking advantage of their gratitude. As such, he walked up behind the blonde, grabbed the back of his university jacket (the prat was seriously wearing one. Definitely 100% asshole material. He and his buddy both, apparently.) and slammed him up against the wall hard enough to daze him. Then he turned to tall and hard hair to give him a grin. "Let's pick on someone a little more to you guy's size, huh?" he offered in a friendly tone as he pulled off his glasses and tossed them on bookworm's chest. "Hold those, please. My father will kill me if I break another pair so soon after he replaced the last."

No sooner had he finished talking than Dee came charging at him head first. Seriously? Might be good in rugby, but it was flat out stupid during a fist fight in a small corridor since he was essentially blinding himself. Adriel grabbed Dum by the back of his jacket again to pull him where he was standing while he sidestepped the charge, and let Dee charge Dum right back into the wall. Dum was dazed again, and Dee got the back of his knee kicked so he had to grab dum for balance. Sadly, Dum also had no balance after hitting the wall hard twice in two minutes, so they both went down together. "How disappointing," Adriel said as he watch the two struggle to untangle themselves from each other - Dee with actual thought while Dum was partially flailing and very much out of the fight. Dum's flailing was making it hard for Dee to succeed despite the fact that he was not dazed. "You should stick with rugby since your opponents are just as brainless as you. What kind of berk charges like a bull in a tight space? Nevermind, I'm looking at him. Leave this guy here alone and we won't have any more problems."

Dee angrily bared his teeth at him as he shoved Dum off. "Bloody bastard, you got lucky," he snarled as he stood up and actually put up his fists this time. "I took boxing and I'll teach you to respect your betters."

Adriel was both impressed and not. He pulled his boot knife out by lifting his leg rather than leaning over to reach it, then twirled it in his fingers when Dee hesitated. "Would have been better if you had started with that," he said in a bored voice. "I fight to win though, so maybe not. Get out of here, and before you go threatening me with your team, I will tell Edward what kind of buggering chav the both of you bints are and get you benched. Your captain and I are pals and he knows I don't start shit, but I'll keep mum if you not only leave this guy alone, but make sure nobody else bothers him. Deal?"

Dee was scowling, but he was also watching how Adriel was handling his knife. Finding out that Adriel was also friends with the team captain and could get him in trouble there had him lower his fists, and he nodded an agreement which had Adriel tuck his knife in his boot once more. "Yeah, deal," he agreed. "I'll leave him alone and make sure nobody else bothers him."

"Including your friend."

"Yeah, including William," he agreed, and glanced down to check on 'William' who was using the wall to stagger back up.

Adriel nodded and stepped to the side, keeping himself between the little bookworm and his two rugby antagonizers. "Piss off then," he said with a jerk of his head to the corridor. Dee grabbed Dum and helped him out while glancing back at him a couple times like he was expecting Adriel to stab him in the back, and when they were out of sight, Adriel turned to offer the little bookworm a hand up. Ah, the bookworm was already up though and cowering up against the wall trying to look as small as possible. "I'm not going to hurt you - just had to be tough with those guys or they would have come right back," he said in a coaxing tone and a gentle smile. "No, I would not have stabbed them - I use it for wood carving." He did use it to carve wood sometimes. And they would have been sliced, not stabbed. "Shhh, it's ok, you are safe now. May I please have my glasses back?"

Adriel patiently waited with a gentle smile and his hand out, and the bookworm gave a couple false starts before he left the wall far enough to put his glasses in his hand. "Ah, thank you for keeping them safe and without a single scratch," Adriel said as he inspected then cleaned the finger smudges off the lense. Hm, and the little bookworm looked familiar. "Have you been a student here for long?"

"Four years," the bookworm said as his eyes darted around for a second like he was wanting to leave. "Well, no, this is my first year at this site. I was at one of their other schools before on scholarship and was finally granted scholarship here as well."

"Hm," Adriel said, and figured he had probably seen him at one point or another earlier this week in passing. "My name is Adriel Chee, it is a pleasure to meet you."

"Artemio Reyes," the little bookworm said, but didn't accept the hand Adriel had offered when he had introduced himself. Actually, he looked even more nervous, so Adriel took his hand back. "I am going to be late to class."

Adriel smiled and stepped to the side. "Of course, my apologies for holding you up like this," he said, still in a gentle and friendly tone since it looked like Artemio was about to bolt like a skittish horse. "You are unhurt, then?"

Artemio, who was indeed about to bolt, paused and looked confused at the question for some reason. "I'm fine," he said in a clipped tone.

Huh, what a curious little creature of contradictions. "Okay then," Adriel said and put on his glasses once more. He hated them, but there was a genetic issue in the men on his father's side that he could get, so he had to wear them for a few more years for reading books until the doctors were sure he didn't have the same eye strain issue. Didn't need them back on the reservation, but it was easier to just keep them on when at campus since there was so many stuff he had to read. "If they give you any more problems, just come let me know. I've been a part time student here for seven years so I know the staff and such very well. If anyone tries to assault you again, come let me know actually. The school doesn't do much about bullies unless you have connections, but they will back off of you quickly." Ah, poor guy was looking even more confused despite his explanation. "Don't worry, I'm not expecting anything out of it, it is just the right thing to do. It's rare for me to get physical, actually. I prefer going the diplomatic route. Anyway, go on to class since you don't want to show up late in your first week. The teachers already expect it out of me, but they know I still get my work done so no harm there."

Ah, and like permission was all he was waiting for, Artemio darted off. No goodbye or thank you, but that was fine since the appearance of a knife had obviously terrified the guy. The amount of violence in a short time, too. Hm, and the threats. Ah well, hopefully Dum was good on his word since he highly doubted Artemio would be willing to approach him for protection. He strolled off for class, now in a better mood since he could try to sketch those big sad eyes in the margins of the book while the teacher talked about the course aims for the term. First week was normally very boring and he couldn't even nap for it, but the excitement gave him the needed adrenaline rush for the day. Plus plotting to speak with his father and ask him to keep an eye on Artemio and make sure he wasn't being bullied in the class, too. 

That ass had also been nice though. And looked familiar. Probably why Artemio looked familiar in the first place - he had probably checked out that ass earlier in the week. Too bad homosexuality was a huge taboo in England and he had to limit himself to females here for the most part. And that he didn't do anything but friendly with people he helped so he didn't take advantage of gratitude. It earned him an honorable reputation at Oxford and made him popular enough to find eager dalliances easy though, so it wasn't a real loss since eagerness was hands down better than a nice ass or pretty eyes were. Ah, and study partners were also easier to find when you were friendly, and he struggled with computer sciences a lot. 

Ugh, yeah, first week was boring as hell. Still another half hour of chapter outline talk and what midterms and finals might look like. Africa for this winter break was worth it though. 

Maroon watched Adriel walk off after he had confirmed they had been complimented and that Ochre even got a handkerchief out of it. "If this was a romance story, you would be the damsel in distress," he said as he compared the situation to various fiction books he had read since fiction is the best research area for new ideas and outside the box realms. And of course, he was telling Ochre this because he looked down at the man who had been sobbing and sniffed. "Really though, death by lions is better than death by magenta or Sepia. Or one of the Roy's." Because Black, white, and silver were so far above him that them stepping in would be like the Greek emperor stepping in for a slave. "That was real gentlemanly and classy of him... Princess Ochre." He grinned. "Friends are supposed to give each other nicknames, and we are friends now." Nope, not one bit of sarcasm there, Chartreuse! "Should we go to buy them statues now that we know what ones we want?"

David Pennington sighed as he saw his son prowl past his study door for the fifth time that morning. Yes, he knew his son was not a large wild cat, but the boy did not do 'cooped up' very well and he had been cooped up during the winter vacation so far. They were supposed to go to Africa this winter, but the portion of the workload from the deceased Goldsman that he had picked up had made the trip this year impossible. Since they had had plans, Adriel had not booked a flight back to America like he had initially planned to do, and that meant that David was being distracted by his pacing son who had far too much energy to really spend time indoors. He would definitely need to buy jumper tickets to North Ireland so his son could run around on his parent's farm. For now, though, Mary Baker's essay had atrocious grammar, she might as well have argued that the sky was purple rather than give him this drivel about William the Conqueror's reign being in the 13th century (two hundred years too late), and he had had a headache for the past few days between grading the first year essays and translating Akkadian tablets for the British Museum. 

Actually, Adriel had knocked out about a third of those translations in four days. It was still three days before Christmas. He supposed he could give his son an early gift from him and his parents. It would get him out of the house, and they could go up North for New Year instead. So when Adriel prowled past for the sixth time, he set down his pen. "Adriel, if you are going to pace all morning, get your ass in here," he snapped, unable to keep the irritation out of his voice because of his headache. 

Adriel poked his head back in. "Sorry, I'm just... I did all my winter essays?" his son offered with an innocent grin that didn't fool David one bit, but it still decreased his irritation to exasperation instead. "Need some aspirin? Your eyes are doing that thing they do when you have a headache. I would offer to help mark the essays, but you know, nepotism and all that."

David laughed and waved off the second. "Aspirin," he agreed. And nepotism was exactly why Adriel had refused to use Pennington at Oxford - their family relation was kept so hushed up that only the senior staff knew Adriel was his son. Senior staff and administration, anyway. Adriel did get to go to Oxford because he was his son, but he was able to stay on his own merits. "Then we talk after. No, you are not in trouble - I am pleased with how you have been working this semester."

Adriel's expression went from the confused 'did I do something lately that father might know about?' to a relieved grin before he scurried away. David knew better than to ask about what he might not know about, too. Ignorance was definitely bliss when it came to Adriel - it was difficult enough to know that his son was bisexual, and the things he had gotten up to as a kid were hair raising as it was. The policy was that as long as Adriel didn't get himself thrown into jail for genuinely criminal things like theft, murder, rape, or drugs, then David would pretend to not know what was going on. Thank goodness his mother had also talked to him when she suspected Adriel's sexuality when he was fourteen and had been wondering when to give him 'the talk.' Had it been sprung on him out of the blue, he probably would have reacted negatively and lost all respect and trust. So that policy was 'Don't bring boys to my townhouse, and don't go to the gay bars that get busted, but discreet dalliances were fine and if he was caught, David would get him out.' 

And of course, Adriel had never been caught. There wasn't a hint or a rumor at all about his bisexuality in Oxford, either. He only asked Adriel once about that, and Adriel had said 'Nepotism and corruption are terrible things, father. Best not have you dipping your fingers into both to get me out of jail.' All with a smile like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. David had such a cheeky son.

"So what's up?" Adriel asked as he set a small sandwich with pills on the side and a large glass of water on the table. "If I haven't done anything wrong, I mean. I was thinking I might ring up one of the girls for a date tonight, but I can head out earlier if I'm bothering you."

David no longer jumped with how stealthy his son was, but it was a near thing with the plate sitting on Mary Baker's essay (a place mat was definitely a better use for the paper). "You aren't in trouble," he reassured Adriel since his son was very obviously trying to bribe him with the corned beef sandwich. He wasn't above taking the offering though, so he down the pills and waved to Adriel to have a seat as he drank a quarter of the water in one go. "Sorry again about Africa though, son. I was thinking we would go to grams and gramps for New Year and stay there for a few days. I know you are missing your reservation lands and it isn't the same but-"

"Nah, that sounds great actually," Adriel said with an eager grin. How David got such a grandma's boy, he had no idea, but his son adored his grandmother and the feelings there were mutual. "Gramps also offered to show me what ice fishing was, and the lake might be frozen. I should go shopping for a gift for them real quick if we are going up there."

"Mmph, wai'!" David had to quickly say around a mouthful of sandwich since Adriel was already out of his chair and halfway across his study. He half heartedly glared at his son to sit back down while he chewed and swallowed, then set the food on the plate so he could open a drawer and throw him a set of keys. "Grams, Gramps, and I all saved up to get you a 1975 Norton Commando for Christmas. Yes, it needs a bit of paint, but it is in riding condition if you want to to take it for a spin. I suggest the Yorkshire route - the snow isn't heavy up there yet, you know it well, and there is winter camping gear and motorcycle chains in the garage. Bundle up, it is a day to get up there, a day for the route, than a day to get back, so pack heavy winter clothing like you are in Northern Ireland, not in New Mexico. Take five days just in case you get stranded, and I'll come up and look for you if you aren't back by the twenty seventh."

Adriel had nodded along while looking half stunned and half eager to go, and as soon as he was done speaking, his son was up. "Thanks, father!" he said with a grin. "Mmm, definitely need to get Grams and Gramps something nice next year. Maybe a mountain lion coat? I'll see about added to your arrowhead collection too, dad. Maybe with some North Lakota stuff? Right, dress warm, pack five days of clothes, take along the winter gear. And chains for the wheels - I'll buy a spare set also just in case. Definitely red paint... Sure you don't want be translating more tablets?"

David sighed and waved Adriel off with a shake of his head no. His son loved those tablets and it wasn't a job for him, but David wasn't willing to use his son to get paid work done. He and his parents spoiled him a bit too much because he really was a good boy deep down, just getting him to sit still was so hard. Hopefully a bike for England would get him calmed down and finish the degree - it was that or a horse, but the only place to keep a horse was with his parents and that would not do much since Adriel stayed with David in his London townhouse the majority of the time he was in England. Maybe Adriel would even settle down enough to get serious about dating, too.

---

Adriel packed all his clothes into a small sports bag that he then wrapped up in a thick sleeping bag and tied it all off with rope. He knew as soon as he saw the new bike that he would be distracted and probably wouldn't pack properly, so packing it was. A couple Navajo blankets were also rolled up with a thin bedding for the sleeping bag to go on top of to keep the ground from leeching his body heat, and he threw on a sweater and his fur lined leather coat and gloves for good measure. Two pairs of thick wool socks, leather boots, long johns under jeans... Was that everything? He paused to grab his journal and some charcoal sticks just in case he wanted to do some sketches in the evening and tucked that into one pocket, then ran out with the two bundles and paused only long enough at the study door to thank his father again and ran to the ground level where the garage was.

The townhouse was set up different since these were newer buildings. What was normally the first floor was actually the garage, and the 'front door' had steps that went up to the second floor which had the kitchen, sitting room, and the study. The third floor had two bedrooms, two full baths (one for the master bedroom and one for the other two rooms), and his father's library was what was the fourth bedroom and smallest. Then there was an attic. You could only get to the garage from a door in the kitchen that looked like it should have been a pantry or cleaning closet, though. So Adriel grabbed up some trail mix packages and filled up a thermos with some hot chicken soup he microwaved in a bowl before he went down the stairs completely loaded up.

The bike was a bit dusty, needed more polishing, and definitely needed a new paint job. For now though, all he had to do was run a cloth covered in oil over the leather seat and clean up the handles a bit. He could see where his father had done a bit of work in changing the oil, spark plugs, stripped the old paint and put grey primer on it for him, and made sure it would run properly according to the notepad with the checklist on it. Just to be on the safe side though, Adriel also oiled the wheel axles, then wandered past his father's dirt bike, scooter, and motorcycle to grab the small two man tent meant for camping in cold climates. The southern hemisphere during Adriel's summer vacations meant winter, so he had learned a little bit about camping in the snow. Mostly... Find shelter. He wasn't a fan of cold at all. He had plans to stop at some countryside bed and breakfasts and pubs along the route, but best not to leave it behind and leave his father worried for his safety. The blankets were more for rest stops he might take to warm back up.

Ugh... Was he really going to do this now? In the winter? He could just call up Leslie like he had been thinking about. He made a mistake of glancing at the bike and sighed. Yes, yes he was going to do this. In the winter. Because the 1975 Commando was a beautiful bike even in the neglected condition it was in and his father obviously gave it to him to get him out of his hair. Adriel new he was a bit annoying and a bit of a spoiled brat. He could easily get under people's skins or charm and make friends. Besides his very early years when it was just him, mother, and grandfather who had passed away the previous year from old age and poor health, he had everything he needed and then some. Those early years before David were a hardship, but his father was an honorable man and immediately paid child support and took care of most of his costs and then some as soon as he had found out about him. Took care of his travelling expenses and everything as well, and made sure he stayed in school and graduated as part of the top 5%. Scholarships would have been easy in America between the ones available for being Native American and his grades, but he opted for England for that to spend time away from the reservation and to see more of the world. Damn his wanderlust and his love of bikes, it really was going to get him out there in this very cold weather.

Rather than open the garage door into the back alley, he put the bike in neutral and pushed it out the regular door instead since everything including the snow chains was already tied down on the back portion. About the only complaint he had about European bikes was that most of them didn't have a spot for saddlebags to be put on them like his '88 Harley softail, but the longer seat of the Commando meant it could ride double or more things could be packed on the back like a mule. He wondered how his father had managed to keep the beauty hidden from him for so long, but it wasn't like he wandered into the garage that often unless invited since the bikes in there were his father's and he knew how annoying it was to have someone always asking to borrow a bike so he just rented his own when he felt like riding without his father. Riding was something they did together a lot when his father wasn't bogged down with work, but they had only made one trip together this year up to Scotland when he first got here before the term started. He must have gotten the Commando after that trip.

It took two attempts to figure out how to properly kick start his bike, and he practically purred when it roared to life. Not as powerful as his precious baby back at the reservation he kept in a storage unit that only mom had the keys to and was asked to take it out for a spin once every week or two while he was out here, but definitely smoother. If his Harley was a mustang, this was an arabian. Definitely better than Leslie or anyone else he could have spent the night with. He was definitely having mental orgasms just from starting up the bike, and he dismounted so he could lock up the garage real quick before he was off. 


Adriel might have misjudged things a bit... More than a bit. There had been light snow halfway up, but since his father said there wasn't too much snow on the Yorkshire route he pushed on. It was good that father also said to pack all the extra because he did have to pull out snow chains a few hours into the route itself when the roads got icy after he had stopped for lunch at a pub. He used the payphone there to let his dad know he would be delayed by a day or two but that he was fine since he had packed warm and was going to stay in hotels rather than camp with the tent. He was told to use the emergency credit card for those rather than his own cash and to check in every time he stopped somewhere, and Adriel agreed before he resumed his journey. It was closing in on evening and he was looking for any road signs for a pub when he saw someone pushing their own bike along the road. Someone that wore a very familiar leather jacket with a very nice as. Huh, what were the chances that he would meet Brit here?

Brit stopped when Adriel slowed down to see if he needed help, and Adriel noted the '85 Triump first before he saw a very very familiar face. Oh, shit, and his lips were blue. Adriel immediately pulled over in front of him, killed the engine, and... What was his name?

"I-I'm f-f-fine," Bookworm chattered out, and Adriel gave him the flattest look he could. That made the other guy flinch back a little, and Adriel frowned. Fuck, Bookworm and Brit were definitely the same person. No wonder why that ass looked so familiar, shit shit shit. And why he was afraid of him, too. Ah well, he gave him a friendly smile since maybe Bookworm didn't know it was him in America?

"Hey there," he greeted. "Mmm, I remember you, but can't recall your name. I helped you with Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum at the beginning of the year? Your lips are blue though, and your fingernails. I'd say hypothermia is setting in if it hasn't yet, so your ability to judge your condition is very questionable. What's wrong with the bike?"

Bookworm slowly looked at his bike before he dragged his eyes back to Adriel looking a bit confused, then shook his head. "Artemio Reyes," he said, and Adriel noted that he managed to get out without chattering this time though it was slurred. Artemio started to open his mouth to say something else, but closed it, looked confused again, then looked around like he was wondering where he was. Fuck, definitely hypothermia. Adriel moved forward to help, but his movement apparently triggered some kind of flight instinct since Artemio tried to jerk back. Only he wasn't letting go of his bike, so Adriel had to reach out and grab the bike before it toppled over on top of the hispanic who was flinging to it for balance. Or rather, had fallen over the handlebars and passed out because Adriel had to lean forward and grab the back of his jacket before he slid onto the snow.

"Mother fucking god damnit," Adriel cursed as he tried to juggle man and bike, then decided man was more important than bike so released the bike to catch the man. Even passed out, Artemio did not let go of his bike so Adriel ended up having to twist himself so he landed between Art and the bike when it brought all three of them down as it toppled. The tank was definitely going to leave a bruise on his lower back after this, but a bruise was nothing compared to hypothermia. Fuck... Step one, get him to shelter. There had been a dilapidated barn maybe ten minutes back, and he could put his tent up in there. He hated leaving the Triumph here on the side of the road, but there was nothing else he could do about that - a bike could be replaced but a life could not. He pulled one of his leather gloves off with his teeth to make sure Artemio's gloveless hands were not frozen to his handlebars, then used pressure points to force the grip loose. Artemio was far too out of it to even notice the pain, and Adriel grunted as he struggled to stand up from the uncomfortable and pinned position he had been in to carry the unconscious man to his Commando. 

Art was slung over the bike, and he grabbed his own combination lock bar before he went back to the Triumph. It was dragged off a ways, the lock bar was used to lock the front wheel just in case someone tried to steal it, then he pulled and pocketed the keys into his coat. His fingers brushed on his journal though, and he pulled it out and wrote a quick note. "In the barn a few kilometers south. Please help or send a tow driver. Driver has hypothermia, cannot leave him unattended and have to get him warm fast. Found him as he was passing out. Call '081-6113-8637' on reverse charges, name should be 'Adriel Chee' and let David Pennington know about this note and that 'Artemio Rays' (sp?) is the driver found. ~Adriel Chee"

The paper was ripped out, folded twice, then wedged into the seat so it wouldn't get blown away. There, hopefully anyone that was thinking about stealing it would read the note and think twice. People often wanted to be a hero rather than a criminal, even people thinking about committing a crime, and it was more likely that anyone on this road was a country folk that would definitely help. If anyone passed. The sun was starting to set, and smart people were not on the road once it got dark.

He jogged back to his bike and eyed it to see how he could get Art to the barn with the back loaded up. Normally dumping the supplies would be fine, but the supplies were the things that the bookworm would need - canned soups, blankets, tent, and whatnot. Mmm, but he wasn't Bookworm or Brit anymore now though... Well, looks like he would have to hold him in his lap and drive very carefully.

Adriel picked the man up and carefully moved him into a bride style carry, then mounted on his bike and settled him into his lap. He shrugged off his jacket next (fuck it was cold) and wrapped Artemio up in it, then started up his bike and one handedly navigated back onto the road to head back in the direction he had come from. Adriel held him tightly against his chest to share his body heat while he kept an eye out for the barn he knew was in the vicinity or any other cars that might be able to assist, and he found the former but not a hint of the latter anywhere.On closer inspection, the place looked like it might cave in, but the cold was a more immediate and life threatening danger so he carefully drove his bike through the tall dead grass and directly into the barn.

The engine was cut and he kicked the stand into place before he dismounted with Art. He pulled the boot knife out of his boot with his one free hand and cut the rope that held the cotton bedding that was meant to insulate from the cold ground. It was thrown down onto the ground and kicked to unroll it, and he knelt so he could pull the blankets off and lay Art on top then put the blankets on top of him. Adriel's one fur and leather coat as placed over Art's face since it was stiff enough to tent up a little for breathing, and then he quickly started grabbing up the wood from broken boards to put into a pile before he grabbed the tent and set it up while there was still enough light to barely see by. The last part of setting up the tent was done with the light almost completely gone, but Adriel knew how to do this so well that he didn't need the light to see, and the tent was zipped open so it could be aired out while he started on building a fire.

Adriel didn't have a lighter, nor did he have a satchel with his tinder and stuff he usually kept on reservation land. He did have a flint and steel keychain he always kept on him though, and the boards were so old and dry that it was pretty quick work to use his boot knife to make wood shavings that would catch fire quicker. The bottom of his sweater was also cut off so he could rip apart the yarn as additional fire making material, and soon there was a fire going though it was very smokey. With all the holes in the barn, the smoke wasn't too much of a problem after a few more minutes, and Adriel dragged the cotton bedding with Art on top of it until it was by the fire.

Okay, so warmth and shelter. Then.... Warm soup. He pulled his Marlboro swiss army knife out of his pants pocket and went back to the bike to get one of the soup cans and spent a minute opening up the various tools and blades to find the can opener one before he could pop a hole into the can. It was carried to the fire and placed into the burning wood, and he frowned since he didn't have stones or anything to ring the fire with. Nor did he bring the collapsible shovel. There were the tent stakes that he had not bothered to put in since the barn shielded them and the tent from any wind, so he went to grab a couple along with the sleeping bag, then untied and unrolled the latter to put on top of Reyes along with all but one of the Navajo blankets, and used that single blanket on himself before he sat down next to the sleeping man and used the stakes to start digging a hole in the dirt.

He had made a pretty decent headway into getting a shallow pit dug out when the can started hissing to show the soup inside was boiling. He grimaced as he wondered how he was going to transfer the soup in there into a cup, or even out of the fire, and decided he would just have to push it out of the flames with the stakes far enough for it to cool off a little, then use one of his spare shirts as oven mitts. The can was moved, the sweater and thermos grabbed, and he dumped the soup into the thermos and set it to the side so he could finish the pit while it cooled to a more tolerable temperature. The pit was finished with only a few small pauses to test the temperature with small sips, and when he deemed it safe, he set it next to the sleeping man and... Were people with hypothermia allowed to even sleep? He checked Art for a pulse, and felt relieved when he found it even if it was a bit slow. He was great for a situation with a snake bite, but he had only a vague idea of what he was doing with cold-related problems.

He moved his jacket to the side and carefully sat the hispanic up, then moved himself behind the other man and pulled him into his lap. The blankets that fell into both of their laps with the shift were tucked around Artemio, and Adriel secured them in place by wrapping his left arm around him. The right was used to bring the thermos closer to him, and finally he started to try to wake him up. "Artemio, I need you awake," he said in a careful voice directly into the man's ear. "Hey, Reyes, wake up. We need to get soup inside you." Ah good, he was groaning and trying to move, and Adriel held him a little tighter. "Shhh, I have you bundled up. Drink." He brought the thermos to Reyes' lips, and it took a few attempts with the hispanic man obviously trying to move away, but he finally got him to drink after some more coaxing words. "Yeah, I know it is only canned soup, but liquids are about all you can do right now anyway and it will warm you up really fast. Drink more... Good. There you go, that's good. Let's give you a bit of a breather. Sorry about this, but you passed out while walking your bike. No, it's ok, I used a lock bar on it, it is as safe as it can be and I have the keys. More soup, come on. Good, there you go... I also left a note on there and we are in a barn a few kilometers back. Have a fire going, made you soup... Uhm... we will have to share the sleeping bag also so I can make sure you are warm tonight. You are a bit small though, so we should both fit though it will be a tight squeeze. Yeah, you can sleep after you finish this, just a bit more soup and I will drink the rest. Come on, don't fuss, be good and drink... Good, that is good. You're done, I promise."

Adriel breathed a sigh of relief since Artemio drank half the thermos and finished the rest of it in one go. Hmm, he had a can of stew also, and he definitely needed more food than just soup. Artemio fell right back to sleep again in his arms while he finished that thermos as well, and even patting his cheek didn't wake him back up again so he gently laid him back out and put the jacket over his head once more before he stood and stretched to get the pins and needles out of his legs from having Reyes in his lap. So... Move the fire into the pit next, and search the barn for more wood with a flashlight.

That was ten minutes of work, and it was completely dark outside now. Probably around eight at night, and while he had heard one car pass, they didn't stop. He paused to check Artemio's pulse and breathing, noted that the pulse was a little bit stronger and he was still breathing, then pulled off the blankets to check his clothes. Fuck, pants and jacket were wet, and he knew those were very dangerous. He carefully moved the guy around to pull off his jacket, did the same with the pants, and hung them on his bike to dry. Must have been melted snow since he was warming up, but there was no way Adriel's clothes would fit on him. Hm. Plus he did know for sure that you were supposed to sleep naked in a sleeping bag together to stave off freezing to death - shared body heat was best and they could use his extra blankets below and on top of the sleeping bag for more insulation.

A better plan was fully in place, but now he had to get everything into the tent. No, stew first. He needed to eat for the energy to be their heater tonight, so he got up and popped a hole in the can and put it in the flames that were now in the pit. The barn was slightly warm, and... Water. They would need water. He grabbed the camping pot, went outside where... Yeah. The barn was definitely warmer than this shit. Fuck. He quickly scooped up fresh and clean snow into the pot from the deeper piles on the sides, and scampered back into the barn with a shiver because fuck that was cold. The pot went into the fire on the other side of the stew so it would boil, and then he went to his bike to grab his bag of clothing and a spoon. The current sweater was ruined which was too bad since it was one of his more comfortable ones, but he could put it on over Art's clothes in the morning if he still wasn't conscious by then. He pulled out a couple clean socks before the bag was tossed into the back corner of the tent, and then Adriel went back to check on Art's pulse and breathing once more. Still steady. He pulled off Art's shoes...

Loafers? Oh dear gods, this man had seriously not been dressed for this. The sweater Artemio was wearing was not a thick one for Northern Ireland. Definitely good enough for winter London like the loafers were, but very bad for this far north. Adriel moved the blankets to the side to push the sweater up, and it was just a thick cotton shirt. The pants were also wool slacks... Warm for winter in London but not meant for this far north. Definitely suicidal for riding this far north. He was a Brit and should have known better! Christmas eve was tomorrow, too. Had he been trying to visit family up north or something? Ah well, father would be able to get his family contacts from the school if someone found the note and let his family know what was happening. He would also just have to swear this little guy to secrecy on his parentage too if it was found out because he was too stupid to dress right. With his father's insistence on his supplies, he could keep Art safe in this barn for two or three days, too. So even if he was still out for tomorrow, Adriel could work with this. 

Ah... Damn he got side tracked. Definitely wet socks, and it would be this guy's fault if his toes were frostbitten. Adriel checked them over with the flashlight and sighed with relief when he saw that they were not, dried said toes with the blanket, then put both of his own socks on Artemio. He crawled up to check on the fingers next, and they were thankfully turning pink with warmth so that was a good sign from the blue they were before. The jacket was lifted to check his breathing and pulse again, then carefully put into place to keep his head and the air around it warm without suffocating him one more, and finally Adriel pulled his stew out of the fire so it could cool down. 

Once dinner was devoured, the thermos rinsed out with the boiled water with the remainder of it poured into the thermos to drink in the morning, and the fire put out, he carefully dragged the bedding into the tent and zipped it shut behind him. The sleeping bag and one layer of blankets was set to the side, and when Adriel rolled Art on top of it, Art made nearly silent sounds of protest. "Ah, thank gods," he breathed since the man was semi conscious again. He was so scared because he knew that you can't sleep in the snow or you die, but he had no idea if hypothermia was like concussions or not. "Shhh, I'm just setting up the bedding. Can you sit up? Yes, I know it is cold, don't worry I will get you warm again really quick." Adriel worked to lay out one of the Navajo blankets on top of the cotton insulation, pulled off his sweater, and rolled it around the thermos filled with the water before he tugged off his long sleeved cotton shirt. "Come on, sit up for me, here, let me help." He moved to sit up the hispanic so he could pull the sleeping bag out from under him, and grimaced as he sat him upright on the ground with only the tent between him and the cold floor. That apparently woke him up a bit more since he let out a louder whining noise as he kept himself up, and Adriel moved as quickly as he could to unzip the bag so he could pick Artemio up and lay him out on it. The bag was zipped most of the way closed again before he started pulling off the thin sweater and cotton shirt from him - something he actually had to fight a little for since Artemio weakly struggled against it. "No, hey it's ok, I promise you will be warm," was one of the many reassurances he had to give, and then he stripped off his own boots and pants but kept his long johns on before he slipped into the sleeping bag along with the water thermos. It took a lot of wiggling to make space, but he finally zipped it up and found out that Art had practically tangled up their legs together and was trying to hug him like a teddy bear. "Yeah, yeah, I told you it would be fine," he sighed as he wiggled a bit more in the tight confines, then reached out of the sleeping bag to pull the second navajo blanket on top of them. Artemio's sweater was tucked around his head for additional warmth, and Adriel used the other two shirts as a pillow before he half pulled Art on top of him to be used as the hispanic man's pillow and mattress. 

"You know, this is the third time," he sighed as Artemio settled down on top of him like an octopus. No, four limbs, so quadopus. "It has been steadily getting more difficult, too. Your non-requests, by the way. First was escorting you, then it was the two berks. Now this, and right before Christmas which is a very important holiday for you Brits. Hopefully we can get you to your family tomorrow."

---

Art had managed to do a lot of things on his own in his life. During primary, he had entered academic tournaments on behalf of his school and won a lot of medals. His parents were proud of him, of course, but he did it because he loved history, the sciences, and math in that order. His English and Spanish scores were also top notch. Really, there was nothing that he did less than excellent on when it came to school, but when it came to friends, he couldn't make them. They weren't impressed by his intelligence, and he could not lower his own to 'let's poke sticks in the mud' level, either. So he graduated at the top, but he very much understood the saying of 'it is lonely at the top' on that day.

He had no friends, but plenty of bullies. His own little sister was one of them, too, so he didn't get a rest from it at home. So when a scholarship offered an Oxford affiliated secondary school, he begged like he had never begged before to attend even if it was a boarding school. Surely, a prestigious school like that in Scotland would get him friends, too! Sure, it sounded weird and was called Hogwarts, but the flyers showed that is was in a real ancient Scottish castle, the small town nearby had plenty of history that went back to the tenth century, and it was the perfect stepping stone for getting a scholarship into universities. His mother didn't want him to be gone for so long out of the year, but she finally relented when his own father also intervened on his behalf saying that they would not be able to afford Eton or Oxford or anything themselves, so it was best to let his hard work give him rewards and that he was very responsible to be thinking so far ahead from a young age.

He thought everything would change at secondary, but no. The first few years were even worse with bullying until he was shoved down one of the stairs and it broke his left arm in two places and left his ribs cracked. The boys got expelled, and the school called an assembly to implement a zero tolerance bullying policy since attempted murder was just a step too far for the higher ups. Art was given the gift of cynicism that day, and he lost the ability to believe good in anyone. He still graduated that year, and when he finished secondary, it was as valedictorian and he broke four academic records to prove he was better than any of them since the teachers were also alumni of the school. 

During his speech, he spoke about hard work and how important academics would be for everyone's future, but what he really wanted to say was that they could all go rot in a bag of shite to become weed fertilizer. Every single one of those bastards had either participated in the bullying, or they all knew it was going on and had just laughed or uncaringly walked off - including the teachers. At no point in his speech did he credit any teacher or class for his achievements, but he had made sure it sounded nice enough that they would not notice that. As he wished everyone luck out loud at the end, inside he was praying every single one of them got stuck working at gas stations and other 'stick in the mud' type of jobs.

He took one year off from school then for self study while working so he could get an apartment and put in university applications. Self study was easy, and he ended up working in a regular library which made studying even easier. The choices of colleges on the other hand were difficult. He knew he wanted to get into Oxford - anyone who wanted to go into medical, science, or history would go there. That included social sciences which meant history, philosophy, politics, and economy, and those also meant archeology. Oxford was also probably one of the most influential universities around the world, and it had several history museums, a world class library and... Yes, Art was dead set on Oxford.

However, he needed very specific credits to get into Oxford that the boarding school had not offered. That meant he needed to go to one of their smaller affiliates again, so he spent the first half of his 'break' looking through every school, then the second half putting in applications for scholarships to those schools. The school of his choice returned with a positive and covered everything except for dorms, but that was what a job was for anyway. Still, even with them covering everything, he would need to work at least part time, and that would be an... impossible schedule if he took all of the classes he wanted all at once to get the credits he needed in once year. He would have to do it in two if he didn't want to end up moving back in with his parents and Sarah. 

Once more, he worked hard. The head librarian was a very old man who seemed to take Art under his wing for some reason, so the old man gave him archivist training on the side. For a little two years he was practically the old man's apprentice, but the man passed away from pneumonia that winter and was not there to see Art push through the last bit of training on his own to get certified. Art was... He wasn't sure how he felt, but definitely alone once more. He didn't cry, nor was he invited to the funeral, but it was very lonely and he did silently thank the old man in his head as he got his certification. He wished Mr. Dagworthy was his grandfather rather than... him. Art did not like his mother's father at all, not since the underground fighting ring incident, and avoided him at all costs.

He didn't even need to apply for Oxford when he finished his credits a few months early since the archivist certification had cleared up a lot of his time. The local college he had been in handed him their letter of acceptance and scholarship when he was handed his Associates in history, English, calculus, cartography(Credit towards Geography that he needed), Ancient Greek (the classic language he needed), Latin, and computer science since he had needed a science class and knew that a computer would come in handy for essay writing at least. His parents gave him two thousand pounds as a graduation gift, and then his father pulled him to the side for a 'man to man' talk.

Art dreaded it when he heard his dad say that to his mom who smiled and shooed them off to the side so she could grab Sarah who had spent his entire graduation ceremony ogling the college boys even though she was barely eighteen and was too dumb for Oxford besides. She apparently wanted to marry a rich doctor or lawyer though, and some of these students might go on for that. Then his Dad gave him a hug and clapped him on the back, making him very uncomfortable, and pulled away to pass him a magazine. A Harley Davidson magazine.

"Son, I know you have always looked at these things and even had a few magazines secretly in your room," Manuelo said in Spanish with an amused smile. "And I never told your mother because we both know she is terrified of such things and thinks only hooligans would drive one. I want you to spend your graduation money trying it once. At least once. A man should have his dreams, and motorcycles have been yours for a very long time. Then maybe you will love it so much you want to buy your own, and if you do, I will support your choice and make sure your mother will not complain. I might also only be a janitor, but in Guatemala, we only had one farm truck, and my brother and I always had to do our own fixes. I will gladly help you if you want to try the way that is popular where you buy a cheap broken one and fix it up! It can be a father and son hobby - I never understood the school work you did since we did not have a school in our farm town, but I do understand hard work."

Art didn't know what to say, but he clutched the magazine to his chest tightly. His father had known all this time? He had thought for sure he had kept it secret since Sarah would just make fun of him, his mother would have said no, and he didn't think his father would understand since his father had not understood much of anything in Art's life. But he had understood his secret all this time and kept it to himself so that Art didn't have to worry about what his mom might say. "Thanks, dad," he finally mumbled since his father was still waiting for a reply with an encouraging smile, head bobbing, and eyebrow wags. "I will try, I promise."

And Art had meant that promise, but he had just planned to rent a small dirt bike at a trail or something to give it a shot. But no, there were flyers in the magazine with schools where he could earn a bike license, and the magazine itself was fascinating with the American bikes and the whole motorcycle culture out there. Of course he had heard about Harley Davidsons, but he had just considered those things giant ego boosting machines for an American's need to look big and bad and that wasn't Art's style at all. He was more a fan of the smaller ones like the Kawasaki, but they were fast and he wasn't too interested in speed. Ten years back though, the Triumphs came out, and they had smaller bikes like the Japanese ones were, but sturdy more like a Norton. So he had kept a discreet eye on the Triumph, fell in love with the '85 bike because it met all of his checkpoints, and kept that love buried deep below Ancient Greece and cartography. 

The magazine had more than just motorcycles in it though. It had articles on famous routes for bikes, museums and other tourist attractions along the routes, and the 66 southern route of America was filled with those things. Maybe... Maybe he would spend the gift on a license and then trying that route. It looked absolutely gorgeous, the old gang things were a thing of the past, and it even went through traditional Indian territories where he might see things like teepees! And the buffalos were further north, so he didn't have to worry about being eaten by the giant beasts! No stray cats, any snakes would not be on a road or someone would smoosh them, and it all looked safe. Very safe. Very empty, too! No people, beautiful scenes, antique museums of all types, and a motorcycle. It sounded like a dream come true, so he decided that was what he would do.


The trip was absolutely perfect until he was suddenly driven off the road by four savage looking guys, and the leader was practically a giant. Or maybe not a giant, he was only a few inches taller, but damn his muscles looked like one good flex would tear open the shirt like a cartoon character. Art was so terrified that he didn't even notice that a part of his mind was thinking that an Ancient Greek sculptor would have used this man as a model for a statue of Ares or Apollo, but it was there. And then one of the guys was swearing at him and Apollo was telling him to back off and he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing but it was definitely a bad thing if his record with people had anything to say about that.

Oh. What? What?! A maniac with a shotgun?!?! And they were going to LEAVE HIM HERE ALL ALONE after saying that he should not be riding alone?!?!?!?!?! Begging the big scary guy to wait had surprised him just as much as it had the big guy, but apparently the Indian man was very nice since he did escort him to a hotel. He and his scary Indian tribe. Who knew the Indians had replaced horses with motorcycles? And while the three younger ones had bikes that looked more like dirt bikes for canyons,  Ares (definitely a War God, Art could see him leading these boys into battle, and Apollo would never be rude enough to call someone Brit and then drown out their protests with a loud motorcycle roar) had a bike that could have been on the cover of a Harley magazine. He very obviously treasured it with how it looked like it came right off a showroom floor, the leather bags were obviously the commissioned kind, and how shiny it was despite everything in New Mexico looking dull and covered in dust, and he wondered if this was a chief or something. He decided the wise thing to do though was to turn around and get his room before he said something that would actually offend these people or make them change their mind about him being the shotgun maniac. 

People were confusing.

When he went to dinner later at the diner, he also found out from the waitress that the hottest guy around had gotten one of the town bullies that had been going around shooting cattle and sheep put in jail for the night while the sheriff collected more evidence since it wasn't just the Indians' animals that had been randomly getting attacked. He asked if the guy had long hair and drove a red Harley, then was forced to tell her about how he had met him and she gave him a name. "Adriel Chee." Apparently had a bit of a reputation for being a playboy troublemaker, but only in good ways and a lot of the younger Indians looked up to him. Then she added that it was too bad that he spent so much time with his English father since she loved to check him out when he was in the diner.

Wait... English father?! Art felt a dreadful premonition at that news and prayed they would never meet again.

---

While the small college had been quiet and Art had been left alone by everyone (Don't think of Anne. Do not think of Anne.), he had expected better from Oxford. The first few days had been fine, but he had been so eager for Professor Pennington's class that he had excitedly asked many questions when the famous archeologist opened the floor to them. He should have known better than to do so though - it earned him a lot of dirty looks, and the next day he had been painfully yanked into a small side corridor that led to the sports gym and was being shoved around by William with Charles acting as a lookout. Who wanted him to do his history homework. Then wouldn't give him time to answer at all and just kept adding more threats before he was dumped on the floor. And he frantically looked towards the hall in hopes that there would be an escape for him just to meet the eyes of another boy with glasses who looked like he regretted seeing what was happening for a split second. 

Art expected the boy to disappear just like everyone else always did when they saw him being treated like this. But no, he moves right in, yanked Derek off, and then slammed him into the wall. Like a Greek warrior or... Oh no. That long hair! He was wearing glasses and... Now with them off and tossed on him, he was 95% sure this was Adriel Chee. Ares. And damn but he wiped the floor with both rugby players, and when one of them got up to start boxing... That was a huge knife. Oh god, was he hiding a sword somewhere, too? Art would not be surprised. No. But he definitely would stop staring like an idiot and look for a nice and quiet shadowy spot where he could be ignored and maybe everyone would go away. Did Ares notice him? Did he know he was the Brit? Then he turned to him once some kind of agreement was made that he had not paid a bit of attention to, and the knife was in the boot. And his hand was out.

Oh. Glasses. Right, he still had those. He tried to pass it over, but it took a couple tries for him to actually do it with the fear still coursing through him. He had a bloody knife at school! Who had a knife at school?! Oh... A British accent? Was he not Ares, then? Art relaxed and started answering his questions, and then he did introduce himself as Adriel Chee and offered him his hand.

Art was frozen stiff. He couldn't have shaken that hand even if he wanted to, and he most definitely did not want to. But what if Ares got angry that he didn't? Art was doomed! But he still gave his name and prayed that it was enough before he came up with the first excuse he could which was class tardiness. And true. And was about to run off before Ares asked if he was hurt. Hurt? Why would he ask if he was hurt? Nobody had cared before. He looked at Ares - no, Adriel - with confusion, but he answered that he was fine. And then Ares was offering him protection like noblesse oblige, had been attending Oxford for years, and was friendly with staff and students. Art wondered if he was a playboy here like he apparently was in the US if the waitress was to be believed, but she apparently didn't know he was a university student. Why was he keeping is a secret? And where was his cowboy accent? Then there was a perfect opportunity for him to run away, so he dashed out to the main hall and safety like his life depended on it, and he definitely would not be imposing himself on Adriel over some bullying. He was probably busy anyway, doing war god things and living a secret identity life. Huh, and the Indians were also used in World War 2, so he could be a secret agent? No, that was too outlandish, more believable that he was an avatar of a war god which perfectly explained that more antique tradition of offering protection. He could handle the bullying.

And while there were a couple more bullying attempts by others in a couple other classes, those only happened once. Then said person would have a black eye or something, would apologize to Art, and his terror of Adriel grew even bigger since he was apparently omniscient, too. Still, his eyes would be drawn when he saw Adriel on campus or in the halls with one female or another hanging onto his arm, though occasionally he would also see him in the library by himself with many books surrounding him while working on essays. Whatever courses Adriel was taking required a lot of them, apparently, but he looked so grumpy while working that Art never did get the courage to approach even if he wanted to. Which he didn't.

Art had no clue that it was apparently the entire rugby team looking out for him after William and Charles asked about Adriel and mentioned that there was a guy under his protection though they never mentioned their own part in the whole ordeal. 

---

Art used the last of his graduation money (he left America early after the Shotgun Maniac incident) and some of his savings to buy an '85 Triumph for himself at the beginning of the winter break. It was a beautiful bike and just needed a bit of maintenance according to the guy he bought it from, and his father showed him how to do it. The two of them polished and it up and cleaned all the rust off, his father picked up paint and they repainted it a nice blue before he used a gold paint and an official stencil logo that his father also picked up as an early Christmas gift to put in the bike logo like it had been done at a factory. A few days before Christmas, it was finally done. They stood and admire it the following morning when the paint had dried and were going to run tests to see what else might need to be done.

Then Sarah walked into their parent's garage and immediately started mocking him for getting an ugly old bike. That was bad enough, but Art was used to ignoring her even when she was making fun of his dreams. Manuelo was very angry through, and he started scolding her in Spanish, and she started throwing a tantrum loud enough that it even drew their mother's attention. And when his mother saw the bike, she looked so disappointed that Art could not handle it. 

The garage had been open to air out the last of the fumes. Art was dressed up warmly and was wearing his leather jacket since it was chilly in here. The bike was done enough and the engine could start. So Art pulled his keys out, got on his bike, started it up to drown out the loud arguing, and rode off.

He knew he would get in trouble for this when he returned that evening, but he just wanted to take it out for a short ride. He really didn't want to go home though, so once he hit the northern edge of London, he kept going. He stopped at a small town as evening drew in, bought a set of clothes to wear the next day, then rented a cheap room where he could warm up with a hot shower and sleep. And then he started riding the next day.

Being a cartographer and a motorcycle enthusiast meant he had the most popular route in England - the Yorkshire route - fully memorized. He did call his father right before he set out that morning to let him know the bike ran well and that he would be back for Christmas, but he just needed a bit of time. Manuelo told him he spoke with his mother and she understood and supported his new hobby, and that Sarah was sent off to her grandparents house in the country for the holidays with the strict instruction of being grounded. Art knew their grandfather would still take her out, but he also knew that Sarah was supposed to have a date on New Year's day and she would be missing it, plus he wouldn't have to deal with her at all. So he decided to go ahead and finish the route since everything was fine the day before if a bit chilly, and maybe he would pick up some gloves at a gas station too.

The gas station he stopped in didn't have gloves, and it was starting to snow. Still, the route was short. Only a six hour ride to finish the loop and start back south to London where it was warmer. He would be fine without gloves. He realized he might be biting a bit more off than he could chew when he started seeing a couple centimeters of snow on the ground on both sides of the road, but it was only an hour off to the next village where he could stop at a clothes store. Then his bike suddenly stopped running with a plume of black smoke from the exhaust pipe. 

It was cold and the afternoon was already late despite it only being three in the afternoon. Still, he could walk the road with the bike and someone might stop to help him to town. There was one car that did stop, but he told them he would be okay and was hoping to get a truck that could carry his bike as well. The next truck was loaded up with a trailer and did not stop, and there were two more cars before it was four. He new he was in a lot of trouble, but he also knew he had to keep moving or he really would freeze to death, and he absolutely had to take the next offer he could. If one came. There had been few cars, and none at all in the past ten minutes. He had stopped shivering a couple minutes back and... It was even later? What time was it? Keep moving, just focus on one step at a time. It was so silent, and there were no more humans left in the world. Just keep moving. Sleeping was bad. No sleeping, keep going. We have the bike to take care of! 

And then the silence was broken like his silent prayers for help had been answered. An engine! But he had to keep moving just in case they didn't stop because nobody wanted to help him anyway. Except that first car he had stupidly said he was fine to. And then there was a motorcycle in front of him? He stopped and his teeth started chattering. Oh... Hallucinating. A dream. It was Ares, the God of War. Huh, so the Greek Gods were the true gods. He was wondering about that. Still, he told the god of war he was fine because he didn't want to end up in his army. Well, he probably didn't? But then Ares was asking for his name, and was asking about his bike, and maybe joining his army of motorcycle riders and roaring down Route 66 was not a bad afterlife at all. Definitely beat playing a harp in the clouds anyway - he didn't know how to play a harp so God's angels would probably mock him, but he did know how to ride a bike and surely a war god would need a cartographer to make maps for his battle plans. "Artemio Reyes," he carefully enunciated, then knew no more.

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Or rather, thought he knew no more. Ares gave him warm ambrosia and held him and reassured him everything was fine. There was the Flames of Olympus burning, but everything else was dark because his mortal mind was not accustomed to the beauty of the Realm of the Gods. Ares' voice was in his ears and he stopped struggling and accepted the embrace, though he kept fighting against the ambrosia because that belonged to the Gods and he was not a god. Then Ares promised he would drink the rest, but only after Art had one more drink, and he was flattered that the god was sharing his cup with him despite the fact he would normally care very very much that he was drinking from someone else's cup. Ares was not just someone else, he was a God, and one that had accepted him.

The next thing he knew, he was on a cold ground and... pantless? Why was he pantless? Oh, he could hear Ares. They must be in his rooms? He was so tired though. And like his mind was read, he was picked up and settled into very soft bedding that was wrapped around him. He could sleep then? But no, Ares was stripping him and... Well, he knew the Greek tales. Was he... did he... Art had no idea and was trying to ask, but his tongue would not work properly and Ares was promising more warmth. Well, warmth was definitely something that happened with that, and dying from snow had been a terrible ordeal. Hmm, and maybe he needed kisses from Ares so he could see the sacred temple they were in? Where were his clothes? Oh... Ares was by him now, and since Art couldn't speak, he thought he would convey the acceptance of his new role of lover by staying close to him and his divine warmth. No, that is Divine because the heat felt so good. Ares was ignoring his unspoken invitation though and fiddling with something, then with more things before he put a bonnet on Art's head? Wedding veil? Whatever, he could kiss his god now and clung to him. But his god reached out of the bag for something else, and Art lost his awareness once again.

The night was interesting, though. There was a lot of warmth, and he could feel it permeate his entire being. Sometimes Ares spoke in hushed tones, but it was nothing he could understand with his mortal mind yet. Sometimes his back would be rubbed if he shivered with pleasure, and it felt so good that he would moan and grind himself on Ares' strong thigh. His god sounded a little exasperated when he did that, but he didn't hear any reprimands, so he continued rubbing himself against him when he was aware enough to do so for what felt like all night while clinging tightly to his god. He finally understood why people wanted sex (that was what was happening, right?) and wondered why he didn't do it when he was alive, but he was very happy he got to experience his first time with Ares. He couldn't believe he had been silly enough to be afraid of him in life, and he had not been devout at all, but he would be the most devout in death and would give Ares his mind, body, and soul since he was the first person to want him even if he was not much at all.

And then Ares left the bed. Art could hear some grumbling and the sound of clothes, too. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck! Coyote, you are an asshole. That was the most difficult night," he heard Ares moan and... Was he not good? "No, shhh, you are fine Artemio. Sleep, I need to get breakfast on the fire to feed us." And Art slept once more. 

When he woke up next, he was a little more clear headed. "Ares?" he mumbled.

"Shh, just eat," he heard Ares say. "I tested the food and it should be the right temperature." Then there was... oat? Oatmeal with dried fruits in it? It was warm, and Ares had him in his lap again, so he hummed with content and ate. Oh, and the sky was grey... He could make out some shapes and see that Ares was feeding him from a metal pot and a spoon, and that reminded him that he should be taking care of his god, not the other way around. "No, stop fussing, be good and eat."

" 'm s'posed to feed you," he managed to mumble around his clumsy tongue. "Grapes." 

Ares chuckled and held him a little tighter as he moved around a little bit. "How about we get you more coherent first, Firecracker," he heard him say before a cup was held to his lips. "Drink, it is water. You need to hydrate. Especially after last night." Art couldn't disagree since he was very thirsty, but Ares continued to talk. "Fuck though, it is always the quiet little bookworms. I have no problem with you completely forgetting about last night, but if you don't, I don't hold it against you because you were obviously having some kind of fever dream. Soon as I get home, I'll read up on the right way to treat hypothermia, but at least I got you through the night."

Fever dream? Hypothermia? What? Who was he with if not Ares? Oh god, and they... They... "Who are you?" he squeaked after the hand with the cup withdrew.

"Oh... Uh sorry, thought you recognized me when I found you on the side of the road," whoever the he was said. "Adriel Chee? We met at the start of the term with Tweedle Dee and Dum? Don't worry about the bike - I put my wheel lock on it and left a note, so hopefully someone will read it and send help. If not, I can bundle you up in some spare clothing, but yours were wet and froze during the night. Can't really dry them here either because there is a bit of snow on the ground."

Oh no! It was and wasn't Ares, and he had been dreaming and what had they done?! "Did we... Uh... Last night?" Art asked. He could absolutely tell his face was definitely red, and he kept the spoon that Adriel was trying to feel him away, but he was still too weak and the only reason it was held back was because Adriel was not pushing it forward.

"Hm?" Adriel asked, and when Art made a sound that embarrassingly sounded like a whine, he heard him sigh. "No, we didn't have sex if that is what you are wondering. First off, you were unconscious, and second off, you were very very obviously not sound of mind. No, I have no idea who you were imagining, but very obviously not me since you didn't realize who I was." No, definitely him, just he thought he was the Olympic god of war, not that Art was going to correct him on that at all. "And I'm sure you are probably aware that I have several girlfriends since literally everyone knows this. I am not holding your actions against you though, wet dreams are perfectly natural and normal, even if it was off and on all night, and I'm not pissed off either that I had to stop you from licking me and stuff in your sleep. It happens, and your life was in danger, so a bit of discomfort is nothing."

Art completely lost his appetite at how tight his stomach felt. Actually, he felt kind of sick hearing what he did to Adriel all night. Now that he was paying attention, his boxers were on though very... messy... and he felt very guilty about how good it felt the night before. And it wasn't even sex! Apparently something in him changed though since he was still not trying to move away from Adriel's embrace. Actually, he very much didn't want to leave his lap, but that was stupid since Adriel was very straight, and Art was not interested in anyone. Except the god of war after he died, apparently. "I thought I died," he mumbled to give some kind of explanation.

"Sounds like your version of heaven is a blast then," Adriel said with a good hearted laugh, then pushed past his hand to put the spoon to his mouth. "Come on, eat. Don't feel embarrassed - everyone is spoon fed at least once in their life. And no, I'm not calling you a baby... Geriatrics and the sick get spoon fed, too. You aren't old, either, but you are sick, so eat. Awe come on, please? You need food for energy, and maybe we can make it to town to call a tow truck for your bike. Do you know what is wrong with it?"

Art was going to ignore the food but give an answer to the question since Adriel would probably know what was wrong with the bike, but the spoon was snuck into his mouth even though he had turned his head away and he made his unhappiness clear with some admittedly weak hits on the right arm that just got a chuckle. Weak because he was sick. Sick and being spoon fed by a guy he hand spent all night grinding himself against and having orgasms, apparently. Ugh, this sucked. He more obediently took the next spoon with the fight drained out of him, and then answered. "There was black smoke from the exhaust, and then the bike just stopped working," he explained.

Art was fed another spoon while Adriel gave a thoughtful hum. Right in his ear. He had to stomp on the shiver of pleasure and what was wrong with his body? "Sounds like the carburetor or the choke," Adriel said as he continued spoon feeding Art. "Air filter wouldn't make the bike stop, but if one or the other was damaged from the snow or was driven long enough without the proper jetting, then it could happen. Or the exhaust pipe could be clogged. I can take a look at it if nobody is here around noon - we are less than ten minutes from your bike, and you can wear my clothes and tag along though you will be staying on the bike because your loafers are wet and frozen so you are in two pairs of my socks right now. Still too far from town to drive that way yet, but if nobody comes by today, we can do that tomorrow since you should be recovered enough for that. I have some basic tools under the bike seat - or I probably do, I will need to check since this was supposed to be my first test drive with the Commando."

And then the cup with water was to his mouth and Art had to drink from it, too. "'Nuff, no more," Art said once the cup was pulled away. And damn, he had to pee, but he didn't know how to say that. Oh no... He couldn't even walk around if his shoes were wet! What was he supposed to do?! No, he couldn't just hold it, either. He had to say something. "...the loo?"

There was silence for a second, and he thought maybe Adriel didn't hear him and he would have to repeat that. "I can carry you to the back corner of the barn," Adriel finally said, and apparently he was also thinking over options. "Hang on." And that was all the warning Art got before a blanket was wrapped around him and he was picked up into a bridle carry. He had to wrap his arms around Adriel's neck, but as soon as they stepped out of the tent, it was so cold that he immediately withdrew them to under the blanket and huddled as close as he could to Adriel and just trusted him no to drop him. "I'll get one of my shirts and sweaters on you after this, and a long john, too. They are all clean, but you will probably have to wear them tomorrow as well since I only have five days of supplies on me. Foodwise, we are good for another day - two if I go and set out some snares and catch a winter hare or something in it. I planned to set them once you settle down for more sleep unless you think you can sit up after you are dressed. You will still be stuck by the fire though, and I will be bringing in what wood I can find out there since the barn wood is burning up really fast because of how old it is. Alright, I will hold you standing and look the other way, just do your business."

The world shifted as he was set to a standing position, and the last of Adriel's words caught up even as he felt the blanket being readjusted on him to expose his soiled boxers. The blanket probably blocked the view, but this was completely mortifying. Oh god, this sucked so bad. How could Adriel act like none of this bothered him? If Art thought he could stand on his own at all, he would insist he could do this part without being held, but trying to test his legs cause sharp pain and he wobbled as he cried out. Thankfully, Adriel had him.

"You are the most stubborn person I have met," Adriel sighed. "Look, I get you are embarrassed - it is a difficult position you are in right now. We are all animals in the end though, so it doesn't matter one bit. Just do your business, I'll pretend nothing is happening while I look at the very interesting fire, and I am completely deaf, too. Can't hear anything. So if you just said anything, sorry, my ears are turned off. I'm very good at that, too - makes it easier to ignore idiots."

Art felt his lips curl into an unfamiliar smile for a split second at the last bit, and he stopped putting it off because it was either this, soil himself further, or soil himself and the bedding since he couldn't put his full weight on his legs without an intense pins and needles feeling. Specifically, his feet hurt a lot, and he was terrified he might have frostbite. Sitting by the fire after this sounded like a good idea so he could check, but that meant Adriel would also have to help him dress. And maybe he could wash his boxers somehow because it was sticky and crusty when he pulled his junk out to pee, and he definitely needed to clean that up. "Do you use this corner?" he couldn't help but ask once he was done. He also felt exhausted so his question was a little breathless.

"Nah, I've been going outside," Adriel said as he picked him up and carried him back to the tent. "I can warm up snow in a pot to melt it down until it is lukewarm, but I'm pretty sure hot water is very bad in the cold just like cold water is very bad in the heat. Sends the body into shock and makes it harder for it to regulate temperature, so no hot water for you. Just warm. Feeding you that temperature has been doing you good, so I don't want to change the pattern and have something go wrong when you are finally coherent. Taking care of you has been like taking care of a cat - affectionate and happy one minute, cranky the next. Awe, I don't mean to offend you, sorry, please don't stiffen up like that since it makes it harder to carry you."

Art wasn't offended. Well, maybe a bit because he didn't like cats, the terrible monsters that they were. They eat people! Suffocate them in their sleep by laying on their face, and then ate their toes and fingers and then the rest of their dead owner bit by bit. They also liked to chew toes, ears, and the nose off a baby. He had overheard people complaining about a 'poor cat' that was gotten rid of by new parents, but he applauded those parents of breaking the mind control cats had over humans though the bacterial brain implants and cries pitched to the same frequency as babies to protect their own children from the very obviously evil and cannibal beasts. "Cats are evil," he mumbled as he relaxed his body so Adriel could duck into the tent. His comment only got a laugh, though.

"Mmm, dog person then?" Adriel asked as he shuffled forward on his knees to keep his boots out of the tend and get Art on the bedroll.

"No. No animals. They all want to eat me," Art stated. His dignity was completely gone by this point, so there was no reason to keep that a secret as well. If Adriel had not made fun of him over the bathroom, spoon feeding, or last night, then he might as well talk about how terrible animals were. "Especially the lizards and the cats! But even the ravens and pigeons watch me sometimes, and it is horrible how everyone can think all of those animals are innocent and won't eat me!"

"Well, I suppose those animals can peck or bite people," Adriel said in a slow reply as he tucked him in. Ah, and the sleeping back wasn't as warm as it was anymore, how sad. He absolutely wanted to change though before he fell asleep again. At least his boxers! "But I bet I know an animal that absolutely does not bite and is sweet and soft and cuddly." Oh, Adriel was turning away! Not that Art was expecting him to join him in the sleeping bag. Oh god, he hoped someone came by this afternoon. If nobody was here, it would mean they would be sharing the sleeping bag again and what if he had those dreams?! "My grandparents have a sheep farm in Ireland, and the baby lambs are the sweetest things you could ever meet." Sounded like he was shuffling through clothes? Art shifted a bit until he could see what Adriel was doing and saw that he was going through a bag of some kind and was pulling out clothes, yes. Thank you baby Jesus! Or Ares. He recalled his promises last night to give his uh... did he really offer his body, mind, and soul like some fairy tale? Oh... He was having a crisis of faith on top of all of the other stuff. "They don't bite, and like human babies, they are born without teeth. It takes a few weeks for them to start growing in, but in those few weeks, there is absolutely no way they can bite you, and a sheep's mouth is so small that even an adult would have to try really hard to nip someone. Male sheep can have horns and hurt people, but those are kept apart from the herd except for mating season. My grandparents don't keep any ram - they just borrow a couple during breeding season, give the other farmers one of the new ewes or lambs that come from the breeding, then sell off the remaining rams to other areas of Ireland. The farmers all in that area keep detailed records like a consensus since they all specialize in Cladoir sheeps. Technically an extinct sheep, but it was cross bred in the area so it is the closest there is to a Cladoir. Sorry, I don't have spare underwear - I use longjohns in the winters, but go without in the summer. I'll wash your boxers for you though."

Then, embarrassingly, Art was sat up after that long ramble about sheeps and while a toothless lamb actually did sound safe, the rams were absolutely terrifying. So... lambs. And then Adriel was helping him get dressed like he was a doll because he was too tired to fight it and was barely clinging to consciousness. Oh, but the cup was to his lips again. "Drink before you fall asleep, just a little more," he heard Adriel say in a gentle tone, and he obeyed. He did need to stay awake to properly clean himself down there, too. Just a bit... longer...

And then he was being woken up again. And it took a minute to orient himself, but the familiar voice was updating him and he was... clean? Oh gods. Someone out there really hated him because he should have just frozen to death and he would not have to know that Ares had probably cleaned him up. No, Adriel. Oooh fuck, and the dream. Why didn't he forget about the night? He whined and tried to put Adriel back so he could just die in his sleep where it was warm and comfortable, and while he did feel stronger, there was no way he could push Adriel away even when fully healthy let alone sick. And then Adriel said his boxers were hanging here in the tent to dry after he wrung them out as much as possible, but they probably would not be completely dry until tonight. Maybe. Art's life just met rock bottom. No, wait... He just had to not have those kinds of dreams and not cuddle Adriel and it should be fine. And keep their clothes on, yes. Or... At least their long johns on since Art knew that skin contact was necessary in freezing temperatures. And according to Adriel, more snow had been dumped while they slept and there were no cars on the road at all today that he could flag down. Very few drivers, so few that he would have to wait an hour on the side of the road to see if he could get anyone to slow down. Ugh, the middle of nowhere sucked. And now Adriel was spoon feeding him beans.

"Good news is that I did catch a couple hares - there must be a lot in this area for me to have caught them - so there is rabbit and rice stew with canned green beans," Adriel was saying in a cheerful voice. "I only had to use one of the packets of instant rice and those things come with seasoning, so hopefully you find it palatable and gentle enough for your stomach. Ugh, I am never going out riding again without proper rations in this region - figuring out meals is hard with so little to scavenge in the winter. The Nava-er- I have some wilderness survival training since I travel a lot, so I usually know how to find food, but I'm not used to travelling in the winter at all. Ah, think you can handle the spoon? Here, wait a second, let me hold the pot closer to you just in case you drop the spoon so it doesn't hit the bedding or the ground. There. Easy, and if you think you can't do it, just let me take care of you."

How far had Art's life fallen when getting the spoon to his mouth felt more triumphant than getting handed his valedictorian status from secondary? No, he didn't want to think about those people actually. He already felt horrible, was doubting his christian faith, was conflicted about the Not Sex he had had with Adriel that had felt very good but also made him very guilty because Adriel had girlfriends and how the hell did someone juggle that in the plural? "How do you have girlfriendss?" he asked, stressing the s. Of course, he interrupted Adriel talking about Israel, but he had no interest in the war of that region anyway. "Aren't girls supposed to get angry if you cheat on them?" He was very sure that was a firm rule of society.

"Ah, remember that, hm?" Adriel asked, and it made him blush and fumble his spoon because Adriel apparently did not know if he recalled the night before or not until he asked that question. Apparently he had not hit rock bottom yet like he had thought he had because the false bottom just fell out with the additional embarrassment. "They all know I'm not interested in anything serious, and sometimes two or three of them get together with me at the same time. Not that I will name any names or anything, and there are the occasional orgies where one or two of them might invite guys they are interested in to a party, but those are so much work that I don't really care for them - especially since other guys are entering my harem but are acting all weird about it like they expect me to maybe leave out of embarrassment because they are embarrassed about performing in front of another male. English taboos are so strange, so it makes travelling a lot more enjoyable - especially to countries that are more open about those kinds of things. Or Vegas or California. University kids in Cali throw some really wild parties. Not much interested in the drinking or drugs aspect of those, but the sex definitely. The women in America know what they want, and there are so many sexual communities out there like BDSM and role play and stuff."

That was way more information than Art wanted or needed. He regretted asking. He kept his mouth stuffed until Adriel mentioned BDSM and role play, and he had no idea what that was but he swallowed the beans. "Too much information," he stated just as Adriel was taking a breath to no doubt continue. Thankfully, the man went silent.

Then again, he couldn't really judge Adriel for depravity, could he. At least Adriel was still with women. He just... Well, Ares, the god was a male. And dream him had been fully willing to get together with a man. Or dead him? God, crisis of faith, and crisis of sexuality? No,he didn't want to think about it. Not one- "Wait, are you a virgin?" Adriel asked. Oh, and he had gone quiet to think, apparently, and had also come to the very correct conclusion. That conclusion made Art choke on the beans in his mouth, and the pot was hastily set aside so Adriel could pat on his back and help him get unchoked. "Sorry, sorry, that isn't my business," Adriel babbled as he helped him. "Very much not my business, but just so you know, I don't judge at all." And Art managed to cough out what had gotten stuck. "So really, if you are gay, I don't care about that, either. The only thing I judge are rape, murder, and cannibalism. And wanton destruction, and poaching, too. Oh! Arson! Arson is very worth judging against."

"Not theft?" Art asked as he accepted the water. "Or infidelity?"

"Stealing depends on the situation," Adriel answered in an honest sounding tone while Art drank the water. "And if someone wants to cheat on their spouse, that is their decision. I personally think it is better to just get a divorce if you want to do something like that, but I also don't care if my partner for the night is married since she has her own reason for being unfaithful that could include abuse or being pressured or threatened into staying in a marriage. It isn't always the spouse that is doing the threatening or the abuse, either - could be the family or the in-laws, or it could even be to try to keep the family together for the sake of the children. Well, they say it is for the children, but the children suffer the most in that kind of toxic atmosphere. So... What are your unforgivable morals while we are on the subject? If you don't mind just chatting, I mean."

"Same as yours, but I don't plan to ever get married," he replied after a second of thought. "So infidelity doesn't matter. Book burning. Hurting children. War." He paused. "Underground cage fights and slavery." Ah, and Adriel went quiet so he better add some more things because no telling what he might say about that. "Brain washing, lobotomy, and racism."

"Huh, I can agree with those," Adriel answered to Art's relief. "Well, you seem a bit better, so let's get you to the fire for a bit so you can sit up. Then we can check over your toes - I did that last night, but you were wearing wet loafers and socks and your toes were blue and pale so I'm not one hundred percent sure if they were fine or not." And now Art was absolutely terrified. The blanket was plopped in his lap, and he held on to it as Adriel picked him up and shuffled out of the tent on his knees, then Art was blinking back the glare of light bouncing off the snow and turned his head away from the barn opening and against Adriel's chest while his eyes adjusted to the bright light. Then his arms went up around Adriel's neck as he let out a scared noise (it was not a squeak this time! Or if it was, it was a very manly one and not shrill or timid!) when Adriel moved to stand. "You're fine, I have you." And while that came out sounding a little strained, Adriel did manage to stand up with him in his arms.

The trip was blessedly short, too. Adriel checked his toes, and they both sighed with relief at the same time when they saw the healthy pink in all of them. The socks were rolled back on, and Art was finally given some space. It was space he absolutely needed as well to start trying to get his head on straight. "Alright, I'm going to get the pot and go clean it out while using the last of the beans to set more snares up," Adriel said as he pulled on his boots. "Fifteen minutes. Lean over on one elbow, that way if you pass out while I am gone, you fall over onto that side. No getting up - if you need the loo again, wait until I am back."

Art made a face at the last part, but he nodded an agreement. Right. He could do fifteen minutes.

---

Adriel Chee stretched as he woke up again and debated if he wanted to sleep longer. He clicked his tongue in annoyance, then clicked it again to light the candles of his chandelier. That provided enough light for him to check his nightstand for the calender there, and he hummed in thought since nearly a century had passed this time. 

Perhaps he had slept in just a tiny bit. His wardrobe was going to be terribly outdated.

He lazily waved a hand at his curtains so the light of sunset flooded his bedroom, then pushed aside the blankets so he could bask in the pain the dying light caused. Vampires were terribly pale things - a corpse had more color than some of them. Adriel was a vain creature and would not abide losing the copper skin of his people, so tolerating the pain was as much a ritual for waking like tea was for the Brits. If that empire was still standing, anyway. He went to sleep at the beginning of the second great war since all the drama was annoying and his favorite empire - the Ottomans - had fallen in the first war - so they could be gone now with a new empire in place. A German empire. He hoped not.

Well, no, his favorite was probably the Greek empire. Ah, they had such beauty and really understood what living should mean. He did not hibernate at all during most of that time period, and he stuck around for a good portion of the Roman empire too since they mimicked Greece very well. Then the whole religious One True God bullshit started, and the burning of temples and the destruction of art broke his heart, and he fled here to the Balkans and just built his home. His new home. His last one was still on the Aegean Sea, or rather, in it since he sank his island to spite the Christians. Stupid decision in hindsight, too, since he couldn't raise it any longer without the ICW finding out, and by the time he had wanted to, the wizards were forming their own crude governments and were persecuting his kind just like the Christians were persecuting them. Mmm. There was always the possibility of political power and then putting in a petition.

Not that he could blame them - most vampire fed on humans. The weaker the human, the shorter their lifespan. His own creator was a mad man - an Ancient Egyptian who had, for some reason, decided he had wanted to commit genocide. Or suicide through genocide. It was very difficult to guess since he had not understood the language the man spoke, and by the time he learned to speak it, the rambled and hissed words were long forgotten. He only ever learn his name - Anek Fa - and very little else since he had been taboo with all knowledge of him scratched out.

Anek Fa had been a priest of Osiris, though not in the traditional sense that the historians of the 1930s had uncovered. He had been part of the holy rituals of death and resurrection - with the harvest festival and the death of winter, he was buried deep in the ground beneath the Nile River. Adriel could imagine being trapped, unable to die or escape, and not having anything until spring was a huge contributing factor for the man's madness. When Spring came, they glutted him with sacrifices, then locked him away into a temple under water where he was to drown during the day and be resurrected every night for a new sacrifice to bless the waters until harvest came. Adriel had no idea how the vampire had escaped, but he did know that the ancient paths from Egypt to Maya was taken. Adriel had taken the path himself from Maya to Egypt after he had been turned, though it took him almost two decades to navigate that far south. Travel by night and hunting cannibals had made travel very slow.

Following Anek Fa's trail had been easy even after time had passed. He had left a trail of destruction on his rampage north to what was now known as Canada. His own people had been the Den'a, and his tribe had been one of the southern tribes. While the Persian Achaemenid Empire had been at the height of their power, Adriel had been living a nomadic life in icy lands to hunt and fish to support his tribe. Among his people, he had been considered a giant. A great warrior and a hunter. He had had his pick of women and had four wives and five children among them. It was an unusual practice, but many tribes wanted his genes passed on to them, and children went to their mother's clans so his wives were all of different clans. There was no problem with it since he could support his women, and with the additional bonus of being a horse, it was not considered unusual. It brought a prestige to his own clan as well since the women had to contribute to his clan, and that brought prosperity and wealth to them. 

Anek Fa had destroyed a good portion of that, however. Winter months had meant very short days and very very long nights. His oldest two children had been at the age to learn how to weave fishing nets, the third was just learning to walk, and the last two - blessed twins - were nursing. He himself had been a bit away from the temporary campsite to clean his kills for the day when he had heard the screams. By the time he got there, the oldest and third child had been dead, two of his wives had had their throats torn open, and half of the younger men and women who had had some warrior training but were still to young to go out hunting at night were dismembered and scattered around like grass dolls that had been ripped apart and were dead or dying. The other half were trying to evacuate the rest, and Anek Fa had been distracted by his own shouted challenge. 

When the creature had turned to face him, his first thoughts were of wechuge. Their camp's fire was still going strong if a little bit scattered from some of the dead or broken defenders trying to stop it, and he quickly thought of a few strategies as he pulled his hunting spear from his back while he ran towards it. His own hut was tent was in shambles, and he sent a prayer to the god spirits of their lands for the safety of his wives and children. Then the creature was before him, and he noticed that it suffered from frostbite under all the grime covering it and was losing portions of its fingers as it raised a hand to strike him.

He ducked under it and jabbed his spear, but it was as fast as he was and dodged as well. That was fine since he was using his hunting spear rather than a holy ceremonial spear that might be able to damage a supernatural creature like this - his goal was to herd it to the flames and he was succeeding in that. "Why have you come, spirit?" he angrily asked. His people did the dances and made the charms to keep the evil spirits happy. It should not be here. It laughed and tried to leap forward, and he kept it back with more jabs.

It didn't take him long to realize it was just toying with him. The speed it showed from dodging and the way it madly cackled every time he 'missed' was proof that it was just seeing it as a game. Any questions, prayers, or songs were likewise met with insane laughter or with gibberish as it tried to goad him into a more reckless attack, but Adriel was too intelligent for that and he was the only defender left that could buy time for the tribe to flee. Its insanity was also its own undoing, since it eventually 'let' Adriel stab into it, and laughed as if to say he could do nothing.

Had that been his goal, he probably would have despaired. However, the creature was impaled on his spear, and he was larger than it even if he was not faster than it. He used that and his strength to his advantage to lift it in the air, then swung it into the center of the fire and made sure the spear penetrated deep into the ground beneath the coal and the ashes. It shrieked with pain, finally, and now Adriel's task would be to keep it in the flames until dawn arrived. A daunting task, but the other warrior hunters would be coming in soon and could assist in that endeavor, and he started up the prayer-song to freeze an evil spirit in place so it could not follow.

It did not work. The creature was much stronger than it appeared, and he had no more than the first few words sung out before it snapped the spear shaft he was pushing his weight down on with one of its rotting hands, and he started tumbling head first into the flames with the sudden loss of the supporting wood. This was the end, he figured, and he hoped the tribe was far enough away to escape the insane spirit. It caught him right before he fell in, however, and he fought the hold as it stood and pulled itself off his spear, then ripped off its burning robes. The creature was not a wechuge if it could escape the flames and the prayers, and how he was struggling in terror since he had no idea what could live through freeze rot and the burned that was now all over it with some of its hair still on fire and falling to the ground in ashy clumps.

It was stronger than him. Far stronger than him. He could not break its grip, and it looked gleeful as it held on to him and ignored his fists and kicks. A moment later, and he was painfully on his knees and being bent over backwards as it leaned forward over him, and its breath was rank as it brought their faces close. It said something then, very clearly, and very obviously in a different language. It had been speaking in its own tongue the entire time rather than gibberish as he had thought, and he tried to push its face away. Burned flesh came off, and it hissed in irritation, and then there was pain in his neck as it tore through his throat with sharp teeth. 

He screamed with defiance and called up fire to try to burn it with his own spirit-magic, and while his burning hands did land, it ignored it like it had the campfire to continue to drink his blood. His spirit-flames died after the first hit as his focus was lost because suddenly there was pleasure with the pain, and he felt ashamed when his hands dropped to the cold ground because it had devoured the fight from him. The shame was gone next, then his worry over clan and family, suspicion of this being an evil spirit from lands to the east or south, and fear that he had failed. Only pleasure was left - that and two pairs of heartbeats - and one grew weak while the other grew strong. As the first heartbeat grew weaker, he did as well, and that realization made him try to struggle to push it off and... He succeeded. Somehow he succeeded. He could die without his soul being devoured. He reached with his soul out to embrace the darkness of Beyond.

It was not meant to be, though. He tasted blood in his mouth - thick but cool - and it had the distinct flavor of rotten meat. He tried to spit it out, but there was a sharp pain of a slap that stunned him in his already weakened state, and once the first drop slipped down his throat, he had instinctively latched on like a babe and started to gulp down what was offered. What had tasted disgusting before tasted divine now, and images of hot lands of sand, grand structures, warm oceans, jungles, and drowning over and over filled his mind, with drowning and dark starvation being forefront and flashes of strange lands mixing among it. He could hear the creature crooning and feel it stroking his hair, and he hated that, but that was all very distant compared to the taste and the images in his mind. No. A mind connection. Like what happened with greater Songs in legends that all potential witches had to learn. Adriel was one. His grandfather was a witch as was his mother. His father was a warrior who had died shortly after he was conceived. A connection that was supposed to be intimate so was called only in the most dire Greater Workings. He recoiled from it and tried to stop drinking, but the creature grabbed his hair and yanked his head far enough back that his mouth was unable to close. Ah... Still on his knees and the position was so painful. Then the blood washed it all away and the last of his defiance crumbled.

What came after that was like being awake but dead. He could not move or speak or think - he was just aware. He was aware as he felt his body grow cold and his heart stopped. He was aware when the creature picked him up like he weighed nothing, gave one last triumphantly insane laugh, then bound away. He was aware of how the movement was so fast that the trees blurred. He was also aware that the creature handled him very carefully for half the night, like a precious cargo, and the journey ended at a cave. Then it was darkness and his body was laid out on something soft

The sun finished setting, and Adriel groaned as he sat up on his bed. Why that memory? He hated thinking about the night he was turned, and the days that followed it. Anek Fa, the bastard, had raped him while he turned him, and Adriel had been unable to fight. It fed on him, fed him, and the whole time it also used his body. Then after he was turned, it tried to force him to eat a witch from a distant clan of his tribe it had dragged back to the cave. He had attacked it, buried his new fangs into its neck, and drank from it until it was nothing but a dried husk.

That witch had been his savior. He wept as he told Sleeping Bear what had happened to his tribe, and Sleeping Bear had told him that his sacrifice would be recorded among their people. That the gods knew there was an abomination that had to be stopped, and they had used Adriel's strength to do so. It could overcome his strength, speed, and mortality, but it did not overcome his mind, will, soul, or humanity. He also told Adriel that while he might have his humanity, he was no longer a human, but what he was was nothing known to their people. 

Sleeping Bear took him to his own clan, and that helped Adriel come to terms with the fact that he might now be a spirit, but he was not a monster. No witch would invite a monster into a tribe. It had healed his anguish about no longer being human, and it let him accept that he was a spirit. And that acceptance carried through to this day. His quest to find out what he was had led him south to the Mayans, and to find out why a mad vampire had gone so far had led him to Egypt. After that, he had mainly stayed on this side of the world since the concept of metals and the beautiful things the people here made drew him, though he did make sure to check his own tribe at least once every twenty seasons to make sure they were okay.

Surprisingly, his direct descendants had ended up taking the path he had traveled fifteen hundred years or so later. They settled in new lands and change their names to the Diné. The Europeans that came after renamed them to the Navajo. Ah, and they had their own demons, the Skinwalkers, and those beings knew to fear his passing since he fed on them like they tried to feed on his grandchildren. 

Adriel had never fed on a human. It was still as taboo now for him as it had been twenty-five hundred years ago. He supposed that that was why he was so long lived despite most vampire dying after only a couple hundred years - he never lost his humanity. The handful of others that he knew of that had lived past a few centuries had also mixed their own feeding with evil spirits as well as evil witches, so they had lived long but did end up perishing since witches were still human despite being evil until they crossed that last line. As far as he knew, he was the oldest vampire, though there were stories of older ones, and there were definitely other spirits that were longer lived than he such as the phoenixes. A long life meant the occasional long naps, though. Being this old meant he didn't really need to feed much anymore, and he could tolerate some sunlight though it made him burn. His healing meant it would heal quickly, but the burning pain made him relive memories. Sometimes good, sometimes bad, but they were all very strong memories as his mind looked for something to block out the pain. Mmm, vampire physiology and psychology at its finest... and he wondered if the humans had come any further in psychology than they had when he had gone to sleep towards the late 30s. 

He would look into that later. First, he needed to get dressed, then he needed to update himself on the world situation and the fashion. As he slid out of bed to pad to the baths in a different area of his wing, he wondered if Petka Novolska was still living in his home, and if so, if she had made a coven. Some of his chosen had, some had not... It was popular, especially to protect themselves from wizards, but maybe times had changed and the wizards decided to adopt the blood banks that the non-magicals were coming out with right before he fell asleep. Or they all just destroyed each other in the second great war and the world was back to more primitive times. That would be very interesting. Either way, he didn't care how his home was used since his chosen companions had also worked on it to build it into the grand and hidden structure in the mountain range that it was now. Plus favors he had cashed in on in the past, or outright paid for enchantments and protections.

His home was definitely one of the most well hidden vampire sanctuaries, especially if he could sleep for almost a century unmolested. He only had a handful of rules - no destroying his home, no entering his wing, no bringing back humans or humanoids to eat (He had definitely lost his temper the one time someone brought in a herd of centaur as 'farm animals' and killed off that whole coven. And the chosen that had allowed it. That was in the eighth century, and he still had connections to the herd that roamed the Balkans.), no permanent structures can be built in his territory without direct approval, and any permanent structures absolutely must be made with beauty in mind. He missed his old home though, it still wasn't the same though this one was nice. Ah, plumbing! Upgrades were definitely within the rules. Upgrades were promising in that someone was living in his home with his rules in mind since his wing was clean but mostly left how it was. He hoped the Balkans were still as lawless as they were before, too. It was a wild land that was almost impossible to tame before. If not, he would have to go back to Canada where he came from since there was no way those lands were tamed. Wendigo also sounded like a nice way to break his long fast, too. 

---

Adriel got to the magical entryway of the Oxford library and walked in around midnight - a little later than planned since he had wanted to properly dress up for the prestigious location. Having someone taking care of the daunting list of chores was a huge weight off his shoulder, though he was still very unhappy about losing Petka. There had been a hint of that sweet woman he used to know in the way she had taken her leave, and with Jacob mentioning the 'high' of killing, he thought this might be the equivalent of losing a family member to opium addiction. Still, they had made their choices, and there was no point in dwelling on it. At least this time he had lost someone he cared about choice that rather than to death.

Mmm, the Bodleian Library had changed, too. The lights, for one. That was probably a godsend for humans and their weaker eyes, especially since the new bulbs didn't flicker like the original ones did. Whoever had installed them had done it in such a tasteful way that the old world elegance from the fifteenth century was not lost. Some of the shelves were replaced, of course, and the tables were new. Very new. The largest change had come from them clearing a lot of the floors so the shelves were no longer packed together like they once were, and there was a lot more floor space. He made his steps a little more firm so his boots would echo so as not to scare any potential librarians - he needed one to show him the new layout.

It also took a bit of searching to find one. The library was pretty empty - there were some non-humans including a goblin, but definitely not as full of activity as it once was. Where were all the wizards and witches? Ah, he found a librarian though, curled up with a book, and completely ignoring the world. "Excuse me," he said in a polite tone, and despite his heavy steps and careful tone, he still scared him since the man jumped and stood so quickly that he almost dropped his book. Adriel watched as the man fumbled his book before catching it, then gave a friendly smile when an unhappy frown was directed his way. "I'm hoping that-"

"No humans allowed during the night shift without special permission," he young man interrupted, then paused and briefly eyed him. The look was so subtle that he wondered if the librarian even knew he was checking him out. "There is a sign on the door and everything. You should come back in the morning."

The first adjective that came to mind was tense. Wound-up might be another. The... Spanish? Italian? Very mixed, at any rate. Something that he was commonly seeing in this new world. "I'm not human?" Adriel said with a smile and puzzled tone, as if he wasn't sure why the librarian would think he was. Oh, how interesting... Finding out he was not human made the librarian untense just a fraction. "I also haven't been in England or Oxford since the 30s. As such, I am wholly unfamiliar with the new layout and was looking for a guide." Awe, and the little guy suddenly looked annoyed. "I would be willing to compensate time away from what was no doubt an intriguing book."

"I'm not interested in bribes, and there are maps at the main desk you can pick up," the prickly librarian said, scowling in disapproval now. There was a faint glimmer of curiosity in his eyes though. Very faint. About what kind of non-human he might be, maybe? Or perhaps he should make a more definitive offer rather than hint at payment. "You should go get that."

That didn't sound like wanting to dodge his duties... More like that was the expected thing to do? "Mmm, I see," he hummed before putting on a charming smile. "I prefer a human guide over a paper if I get a choice, though." He clasped his hands behind him and rocked back on his heels as he cutely tilted his head a little. "You learn a lot more from a person, and a paper would not tell me about all of the changes done in the past ninety years."

The pursed lips let him know that his cute act was not impressive at all to the unhappy librarian... He didn't even seem to notice it, actually. The request had annoyed him. "There are history books for that, too," the librarian said. "Shelf three in row one in this room has all the old and recent texts on the library itself. Right by the front desk. With the maps."

Adriel couldn't help it, he started laughing with amusement at how hard the guy was trying to get rid of him to get back to his book. "What are you reading that is more important than a patron?" he asked with curious amusement. He grinned when even that question was met with annoyance, but the man was no longer tensed up in fear at all. Just irritation. A lot of irritation. Like a cranky kitten. "Ah, my apologies, my name is Adriel Chee."

The librarian looked a little confused for a brief second at the mention of his name, but shrugged it off just as quickly. "Artemio Reyes, historian and archivist," he replied. Oh good, this one at least knew how to properly introduce himself, even if it was curt. Archivists was a step up from a librarian, though. He probably held a decent position here - an impressive feat for someone so young. "It's... It's about Atlantis."

Ah, and he just jutted out his chin like he expected Adriel to mock him. "Mmm, interesting choice since there are several ancient cities that have sunk below the waters," Adriel said instead with a friendly smile. "How about I share a few that I know of with you for that tour? Ancient Egypt and Greece. Unless you are on board with the newer theory of it being Atlantic? If so, I could offer tales of Hy-Brasil from ancient Celtic legends. Some of the stories survived the last time I roamed up there, but not all of them. History is my hobby, and I have a library of many ancient texts in my home by Greece... I still haven't checked the newer maps to see which country's borders I am in currently. Could be Bulgaria, Greece, or Macedonia." Ah, the librarian was looking at him a little dubiously until he mentioned history being a hobby, but the topic of his private library definitely had the man's attention now. "I plan to spend the next few weeks here to catch up - I went into hiding for world war two and only recently came out. Playing catch up is exceptionally hard with all of the changes - including borders and new countries. I think more has happened in the last one hundred years than in the previous four before it in innovation, discovery, and technology. Since even fools know that Oxford is the best place to go for knowledge, I decided to come here because the internet has so much conflicting information that I have found it... might not be as reliable as I had hoped." Oh, and he looked a little startled at the mention of an internet. "Is there a wizarding version of the internet?"

Artemio scowled and shook his head no. "My father is a muggle, so I know about it and the muggle part of the library has computers, but magic doesn't work with anything that runs on electricity," he explained. "The lights here look electric so that the different sections keep the same look, but it is magical. American studies theorize that magic might have a frequency and wavelength on the invisible energy spectrum that interferes badly with electricity. There was a bit of a controversy surrounding wizarding television in the eighties since England banned it since it could risk the Statute, and they admitted even the radio waves are affected and muggles sometimes get the bleedover from our wireless network."

Adriel grinned then. He got the librarian to actually talk! "So, about that tour...?" he prodded in a playful tone. It earned him a suspicious look. "I will gladly share a couple tales with you, of course. I even have some ancient Egyptian scrolls in my collection." Oh, and he fully had his attention now. They were part of his original library in his old home that he made copies of and kept while his home sat safe and hidden with Poseidon's blessings. "Or rather, copies of copies of originals - the originals are properly preserved and stored in a different location. Nineteenth century private auctions had very interesting things for sale, and I do love very interesting things." Ah, that was definitely the rabid gleam of a bibliophile librarian in Artemio's eyes. Almost lust, definitely zealotry. Playing with the cranky kitten was fun enough to take his mind off of Petka, too. "If you are interested?"

"I don't think I'm the best at tours, my focus is mostly ancient history, but the library is an exception, of course," Artemio said with excitement. "I am fairly fluent in ancient Egyptian though. And ancient Greek! I also speak them. The only speaker of Ancient Egyptian, and my Ancient Greek is about as perfect as it can get. I'm still practicing, of course - perfection matters - and I have plans to get into archeology. If they talk about any ancient sites, I want those stories! Well, the undiscovered ones. I want to find Cleopatra's tomb after Atlantis, then move on to something Mayan in Central America so I can look into my ancestry. Then after that, I want to poke around Greece - I know most things have been discovered, but there are so many islands that haven't been looked at too hard! Oh, and if you left for world war 2, then you don't know but some of the ancient ruins were damaged or destroyed, but there has been some restoration done."

Adriel had been stunned by that burst of excited babble. His eyes got so shiny and pretty, and he looked so pure and innocent. How old was he? Twenty one? Two? "It may be a little presumptuous to ask, but what is your age that you have managed so many academic achievements so far?" he asked in a polite tone. No drooling, no matter how yummy Artemio looked like this. "I'm fluent in Ancient Greek as well, but it does take at least a couple years to pick up new languages, and that is if you are a genius or fully immersed in the culture. And you are an archivist, too." He would let Artemio believe he was the only speaker of Ancient Egyptian - no reason to take that achievement away from him since it had genuinely been dead and forgotten for many centuries.

"Master archivist, though that is a very recent certification," Artemio said as he backed away and started locking everything down once more. Nooo, the pretty eyes just stopped sparking! "Sorry, I didn't mean to... I'm twenty two." He paused and peeked up through his lashes like he was checking to see if Adriel was angry, and Adriel was very careful to maintain a friendly and polite expression despite how adorable that looked. Harmless - he was harmless and definitely not a predator who was eying Artemio with the thoughts of keeping him. Even if it was for a bit. "You really speak ancient Greek?"

Adriel put on a charming smile and gave Art a courtly bow. "Fluently, little scribe," he said in Ancient Greek, though he had to change librarian for the next closest word to it. Artemio looked surprised and those pretty eyes started to sparkle again. "No need for apologies though - you are very pretty when you are not irritated or unhappy." Oh, and the confusion, the blush, and the bristling at that statement told a story of its own. Innocent and probably picked on for being a 'swot' or whatever that word would be in modern days. "Ah, no offense is intended - I like pretty things and tend to speak without thinking when I see them. Come then, and show me the library. Mmm, and let us stay with this language - practice makes perfect and it is so rare to find conversation in this tongue. The Athenian dialect is best for you? We could do the island dialects for Crete or Cyprus if you wish." 

Artemio looked both eager and a little shy as he switched to the new language, too. "Athenian, please," he answered, then started leading the way to the front desk. "I do not know the islands. I know how to write Demotic because of the Rosetta stone, but I cannot speak it. It also helped me learn Ancient Egyptian - they don't have vowels, but the ancient Greeks did, and then it was a lot of trial and error, digging through old Egyptian poems that used rhymes, and so much more. I'm still figuring it out, but I am confident in what I have so far." Adriel followed Artemio as he talked, and watched him pick up a map. "So anyway, this room is..."

The librarian was a very good tour guide, especially since he seemed a lot more open when speaking in Ancient Greek. He didn't act like he was afraid of Adriel one bit, and he even reprimanded a werewolf who had a drink with him in one of the other rooms. The werewolf looked like he wanted to challenge Artemio, but Adriel gave a warning glare so the puppy ran off with his tail between his legs. Yet he had been fearful of Adriel when he had thought he was human? The phobia of socializing maybe? What was that called again... He had read it on the internet when he had been looking through psychology things... Social anxiety? Maybe targeted to humans because he was picked on or ostracized? Easier to deal with non-humans if humans had stigmatized him. That was a loss for the humans - Artemio had a sexy waistline and a very very nice butt. "Are you in a relationship with anyone?" Adriel asked once the tour took them past the third room and Artemio told him that the bells were still running on the original seventeenth century batteries. Artemio tripped over his own feet at the question and Adriel happily caught him. "Sorry if that was too personal? I should not have asked, I am still adjusting to modern day manners. It would have been an offensive question in my time to ask something like that so soon."

Art had stiffened up his his arms, so he released him as soon as he was stable and the man immediately backed away from him. He was looking off to the side and appeared both angry and ashamed. "No, it's... I... No," Artemio said, seemingly at a loss for words. Adriel had apparently brought up something extremely painful with the amount of hurt the guy was holding in his short response. "I don't date."

The finality of that statement let Adriel know it was definitely something recent and something to do with a relationship, rejection, or abuse. "That is a pity," Adriel said in a casual tone. Nobody wanted to receive pity, even if that was the word he used. "Humans have lost out if you don't want them." Adriel smiled then and let his fangs show just a little bit. "What about a non-human?" Artemio went through a series of expressions, then. Shock, anger, distrust, and wariness, and there was fear buried in that but a tiny curiosity too going by the way his eyes and looked over at him for a brief second. He opened up his mouth to no doubt reject him, and Adriel interrupted it. "I would treat you like the precious treasure that you are," he purred, wanting to edge in but keeping the distance that Artemio had made so he didn't bolt. Apparently far far too soon to hit on him after whatever it was that recently happened to the adorable man. "I'm not even asking for sex or to feed from you. Just let me take care of you and treat you special. You obviously don't trust my words, so let me prove it with action." Not that Adriel had a home to take this guy to yet, and hotels were gaudy and implied that he was just seeing Artemio as something cheap and easily gotten rid of. Gods forbid he take someone so innocent to the White Wyvern, too. He would probably have to rip a few people apart to make sure Artemio was untouched. "You are handsome, smart, and love history. Your conversation has been wonderful, and I recently lost my last companion so I don't have anyone at the moment. I came here thinking of her and was feeling down, and you made me forget about her. I like that."

Apparently he had said something that resonated since the rigid lines of rejection relaxed back into contemplation. "Her?" Artemio tentatively asked in a small voice.

Ah, a female suitor that had hurt him, maybe? Or perhaps he was gay, and he was cruelly rejected by the last man. "I like both genders," he said with a shrug. "My last companion was female. Female vampire, but she fed on and killed a human, and I am very much against both actions. It is inhumane to treat any sentient being like that unless they are creatures of cannibalism and sadism. So while I see vampires as humans most of the time, if they have lost their compassion to the point of seeing society as nothing but fodder, they are no longer humans. Same goes with werewolves and other 'monster' races, though I firmly leave goblins, centaurs, humans, house elves, and merfolk out of those categories unless they do change their race through evil magics and curses and become monsters themselves."

The librarian frowned in thought, but his body language had slightly shifted to the point where he was no longer on the brink of running though he was still ready to run if need be. "I don't date," he stated, a little more firmly with a hint of defiance in his tone. He switched back to English as well. That wasn't a no to his offer, though.

"I'm not asking for a date," Adriel said, politely swapping back to Art's native tongue. "Or courtship. I am requesting companionship. More than friends but less than lovers. An intimate connection emotionally and intellectually - someone to share conversation with, to take care of, and to admire. More, if you end up comfortable with it, though if you do not, that is fine since I can find physical pleasure elsewhere." That furious blush was delicious. Hopefully, it also meant that the pain wasn't that kind of abuse. "Perhaps you think me hasty in such an offer, but I have been without intellectual company for a while - my last companion was an emotional and physical connection, but she was not very smart. I say history is my hobby, but it is more of an obsession. Learning of all kind is, but I have a special love for the past."

Artemio still looked very hesitant and... He wasn't fidgeting. He was far too stiff to fidget. But if he had been relaxed, Adriel could imagine him fidget with nervous wariness and anger. "I don't like touch," he said as he looked up and met Adriel's eyes. There was defiance and disbelief in the tone, too. "Everyone hates me for my intelligence. I'm also not pretty or handsome. I don't like being mocked, either."

Adriel was a bit at a loss. How did Artemio think he was mocking him? His self confidence was completely in ruins if that was what he thought about himself, too. "People are idiots, and I was not mocking you," he firmly said to correct him. "I have said I found your intelligence nice. Everyone has different likes - some like dogs, some like birds. I like how you look, think, and speak, and I want to keep it and you. There has been no mockery on my part, though we will have to figure out something with the touch thing if you end up accepting and enjoying the relationship. I love to touch and be touched, even if it is casual."

Artemio scowled at the touch part. "I don't date and I don't like touch," he said again. That wasn't a no. It wasn't a yes, either, so Adriel would just have to keep pestering his little librarian over the next few weeks to see if he could gain his trust. "Let's finish this tour so you can tell me about ancient locations you might know."

Adriel followed with amusement when the librarian abruptly turned around and started his tour back up again. His guide's tone was clipped and annoyed at first, but it eventually relaxed into something more along the lines of plain informational when Adriel didn't push or change the subject to anything personal. Right, treating him like the wild camp dogs of the Den'a was a good idea - something that could be coaxed and lured in, or to work alongside of, but not something that could be run up to and played with like the domesticated dogs. Mmm, and treats were apparently ancient civilization things. He had plenty of those treats. He would definitely be using this first night to go over what ancient locations had been discovered, and bribe him with more conversation the next night by promising to return with a write up of things that would hint at was has not been found yet. And, of course, that there was more than that. 

Artemio Reyes was making Adriel chase him, and Adriel did love the chase. If the young librarian was trying to push him away, he was doing a very poor job of it. Finding people that could keep him entertained for more than a couple nights was hard, but Artemio would probably put up a struggle. The innocent human didn't realize that just made him even more adorable and wanted.

Art was awkwardly standing in the doorway to watch Adriel work because he had to talk to Adriel, but he wasn't sure how to start the conversation. When Art had asked Healer Vita what he was supposed to do about the arousal part of the emotion wheel, she had told him that it was related to Adriel so he should speak to him about it. She had looked very embarrassed, too, so he had dropped the subject since she had also been very embarrassed when he had explained what he had seen when he had walked in on Adriel and Kon and that he didn't understand why it made him aroused.

Adriel was the one to break the ice while Art stared at his friend. "You'll set my shirt on fire if you keep staring that hard," Adriel said in a teasing voice, then turned to look at him. He looked... concerned? Worried? "Something wrong?"

Art wouldn't say something was wrong. Well, not too wrong? More like... confusing? "I'm... Vita said..." Art began, then took a deep breath to sort his thoughts properly. Right, confusing could lead to frustrated, and that could lead to anger, and he didn't want to get angry at Adriel. Best explain what was happening clearly and concisely so he could get a clear and concise answer. Adriel was good at that. He was very smart when it came to emotions and had loved the emotion wheel and how colorful it was. "The emotion wheel has arousal, and I realized you are on that spot also."

Do you need the talk?" Adriel asked. The expression on his face was not a very familiar one and Art didn't understand it. "Or understand what that means?"

Art stiffened up and scowled. Of course he understood it! Oh. Wait. He didn't want to be angry. No, he was done with the conversation. "No," Art said, then shook his head and took a step back. "No, sorry, I didn't mean to bother you." Adriel was probably uncomfortable and embarrassed just like the healer had been and that was the expression on his face.

"Wait!" Art stopped rather than turned to run away. Where was there to run anyway? He could probably lock himself in the bathroom? "I don't mean that as a rejection. It's just you didn't know what checking someone out meant even a couple weeks ago, so I don't know if you know what arousal is."

Art paused then gave a curt nod. That made sense, actually. So was Adriel confused and concerned? "It's when you find someone attractive and get hard down there," Art clearly stated so Adriel would know that Art understood the definition of arousal. That was the physical effect anyway - arouse could also mean provoking anger in someone, and he wanted to make sure Adriel knew he meant the sexual meaning. "Healer Vita said that since you are the subject, you would be able to help me understand that more."

"Well, you could ignore it and hope it goes away since I don't think you are the type to sleep around," Adriel said while he smiled in the way that meant nothing was wrong. Art liked that smile, it meant he had not made Adriel angry. He had already tried ignoring it though and it just kept getting worse. "You should not do anything you might regret later. Plus, you are still my boss and we are on the job. I don't really sleep with my superiors unless I know they don't want to date."

Art was unhappy since Adriel did not have a clear answer like Art had been hoping he would have. Or was misinterpreting what he was saying? Art just wanted answers or to fix the... issue... he was having. "I am not asking to date," Art said - and this time he couldn't help the feeling of frustration though he was being careful not to let it turn into anger. Right. Be more clear. He could do this. "I also tried to ignore it, but it has been happening for days! And originally it started when I walked in and you were making those... noises. And every time I think about it - and that is a lot of the time like right now - I get aroused. I can't make it stop, so Healer Vita told me to talk to you." Oh. Should he tell him that is was when he walked in here while Adriel was with Kon? He didn't think he could mention that. It had been very difficult to talk about it with the healer, and he shifted just a little bit because down there felt uncomfortable again. Since he was thinking about it. This was horrible and hopefully Adriel knew how to make it stop.

"Your healer is a bloody bint, and I kind of want to bury her in a deep hole somewhere right now," Adriel cheerfully stated before waving Art in and pointing at his desk chair. "Sit and I will explain."

Art regretted saying anything since Adriel now wanted to kill his healer and he wasn't sure why. Did she offend him? Did he offend him? Adriel sounded happy, but the words weren't happy. Oh. Adriel promised an explanation. He obeyed and sat down. "Good," Adriel gave him a piece of chocolate, Art gave him a jade monkey, and he just made Adriel happy since he gave him that very nice smile that made Art feel like he did good. And he had been told he did good! The little rock things was still the best idea in the world since Adriel always looked so pleased. "Sending you to me is a cruel thing to do to the both of us because my only solution is to offer to teach you about sex - either the talk or actually fooling around."

"Yes, that's what I want," Art said with a nod as he looked up at Adriel. Finally! Answers! Well, no, he still didn't want the talk - that had been a very horrible moment to have with his father that had felt embarrassing and humiliating, plus it would not explain how it worked with guys since the talk was about reproduction. Adriel was looking at him strangely though so he opened his eyes a little more to convey that he was very eager to learn. "I am fine with touching you now, too. I have not pulled away in two days and have given you a hug almost every day." Art was very proud of this accomplishment - Adriel being pretty much all on the happy part of the wheel even if he was on some of the other parts gave him a basic understanding of the situation even if there were still parts he was confused by. Adriel = Happy. Adriel + Art = happy Art. The arousal part was confusing though, and he didn't want that to turn into frustration then anger because now that he was understanding why things were turning into anger, he could finally stop that horrible arguing they were doing before.

"The talk?" Adriel asked. Art shook his head no since Adriel was obviously confused. "A hug is different, Art." Art had to remind himself that Adriel was confused again because yes, he knew a hug was different! "And I haven't hugged you yet. I have been letting you initiate all contact until you indicate you want... Well, I was expecting friendly contact." Oh. Adriel was right, he had not been hugged yet. Adriel had told him he would not touch him unless given permission or in an emergency, and Art had completely forgotten to give Adriel permission.

"I am indicating I want contact," Art said as he stood back up again. "You can hug and touch me if you want to right now." That was about as clear as it was possible to get, right? Apparently not, since Adriel groaned and looked very frustrated. Not angry though, just... exasperated? How much clearer did Art have to get?!

"Like a friend?" Adriel asked. "Or sexually?"

Oh. That was a good point. Was he ready for sexual contact? Well... Fixing an arousal meant yes? He didn't understand how it worked with two men though. Oh, but Adriel did! But did he want sex? No. Well... His body apparently wanted it? With Adriel? That actually made a bit more sense now. Was it because he made him happy? Probably? He doubted just a friendly kind of touching would fix an arousal though. "Can it be sexually but... Not sex?" Art wondered out loud. Adriel would know the answer to that.

"Yes, but you will have to promise you will tell me to stop if anything is too much, but you also have to say yes when you like something," Adriel said in a more confident tone that was very reassuring. "The first time you don't say yes, I back off since that is also a no. I don't care if you grab me, pull my hair, scratch, or go limp and just enjoy the feelings. You will say yes or I stop."

Art carefully listened to all of that. So... He had to say yes, but as soon as he stopped saying yes Adriel would stop? That sounded very easy. And he could say stop at any time to make it stop. That made him feel safe. The scratching parts and stuff didn't make sense, but he recalled Adriel had been pinned down when he had walked in... before. Was safe on the emotion wheel? Peaceful was. Art definitely didn't feel peaceful though, especially since Adriel was taking off his shirt and revealing those arms and that tank top that didn't hide the well defined muscles on his body. Definitely arousal. Almost painfully so. Maybe that was what Adriel meant about grabbing and pulling? All he had to do was say yes, and Adriel implied that he would take care of it with the 'go limp and enjoy the feelings.' "Yes," he said as he met Adriel's eyes since he trusted Adriel to take care of him like he had been doing for a while now. With everything. Even when Art did not understand he was being cared for and was just always angry.

Adriel grabbed him by the front of his shirt with his right hand, wrapped his left arm around him, and lowered his head to place his mouth on Art's neck. The heat from Adriel's mouth felt very nice, and Art moaned as he stayed still to enjoy the feeling like Adriel had told him to do. He had not been afraid at all with how Adriel had pulled him in since he had been expecting that with the description, and Adriel was very gentle in that and this. to taste and give gentle sucks to it despite his almost rough handling. "Yes," Art said when he realized nothing more was happening yet, and Adriel finally started licking and sucking up and down his neck as he started pulling his outer shirt off. "Yes, yes, yes," he breathed out as he started panting. Oh. This felt good. And this was only kissing. Adriel pulled his sleeve down to bare his shoulder, and the next yes came out more as a moan before Adriel was working his way back up his neck and groaned into it.

How did a groan feel good, too? The vibrations from Adriel's gutteral sound went right to his head, and he stayed pliant and kept saying yes so that Adriel wouldn't stop. Adriel's hand that was around his waist slipped down to hit butt, and Art wasn't too sure how he felt about that until Adriel started using his hip to rub him down there on his arousal. Oh. That was... Relief. More than relief. Pleasurable relief. Like the massage, but a hundred times better. He barely even noticed his outer shirt getting completely removed as he moaned out another yes and kept himself relaxed to make everything easier for Adriel to handle him. Oh. No, his body was apparently trying to move and rub even more against Adriel to chase that pleasure, and Art wasn't sure if he should or could stop since Adriel was... Was that why he had grabbed his butt? To make sure he couldn't get away from this feeling? And then he felt heat in his ear that was followed by a hot and slick tongue, and moaned and just let his body do what it wanted to do since Adriel had told him to enjoy it. And the yes. He had not paused in his yesses at all so it was spilling out in breathless gasps and moans.

"Good," Adriel quietly said into his ear, and Art shivered again. That word made him stop thinking altogether. "You're doing good. You taste as delicious as I imagined, too." He... tasted delicious? Like caramel?

Art's head dropped back as he completely gave himself over with a wordless sound that he hoped Adriel took as a yes. There had still been a tiny part of him that had been holding back to... observe? Make sure nothing bad was going to happen? Oh, and Adriel did take his offer as a yes since his mouth was now on his throat, and he immediately started saying more yeses just to make sure Adriel did not stop. Ever. Even when Adriel slipped his hand under his shirt and slowly inched it up. The pleasure just kept getting better and Art wasn't going to question it. He did have to hold on though since he was feeling light headed from the sensations, and his hands were wrapped around Adriel's shoulders to cling to him before he even finished that thought.

Art moaned again as he squeezed his eyes shut when Adriel's hand reached his chest. "Shhh, you're doing very good," Adriel told him. "So sweet, you deserve this. You are giving me a precious gift by getting to see you. Open those pretty eyes of yours, I want to see what they look like when you are feeling so good." Oh. He deserved this? Sweet? Like caramel? What was he giving Adriel? Wait, he wanted him to open his eyes?

The heat from the hand on his chest felt very good, and Art forced himself to obey and open his eyes since that was what Adriel wanted. In this moment, Art would give Adriel anything he had asked for, and it was such a simple request. Opening his eyes shouldn't be so hard, but his body was so distracted from everything else that it took a lot more effort than he thought it would. That earned him another compliment, but at the same time Adriel did things that spiked his pleasure up high enough that... The times in the shower was nothing compared to it.

A part of Art was disappointed that he had squeezed his eyes shut since Adriel had only wanted to watch, but he couldn't help it or the sound that escaped his throat that sounded very very like that whine he had heard Adriel make with Kon. Had Adriel been cumming then? That thought made the pleasure almost unbearable, but Adriel pressed their lover halves together before he could try to wiggle away and then started saying things in his ear that his mind told him was compliments and reassurances, and then there was a mouth on his with a tongue that briefly flicked on his once in a way that shot tingles down to his toes. What? What? But Adriel had gentled his movements at some point since the stop of their grinding didn't feel shocking or abrupt, and Adriel stopped... kissing? But in a way that also didn't feel abrupt?

"You kissed me?" he asked. Out of everything that had happened, that was the most confusing part of it. He didn't know what it was confusing, but it was. So was being held like Adriel was doing. It felt like he was all over him but it wasn't suffocating. It was like... hugging Mr. Bear but a hundred times better also.

"It was just a taste," Adriel said. Which that didn't answer Art's question since... He was pretty sure that was a kiss, but it definitely was not a kiss that he knew. "Delicious, too. Have you never masturbated before? That is another way to take care of arousal, not that I minded this at all. You are outright sexy like this."

Art frowned for a very brief second, but it was hard to think too hard. "Twice, but I didn't enjoy it," he said. He was a bit ashamed now that he knew what it was supposed to feel like - he had probably been doing it wrong this whole time since. "This was... This felt very good." Was he supposed to ask Adriel how to replicate it himself? Adriel said he didn't mind it... He even called him sexy. It wasn't the same as Adriel wanting it though since... Well, Adriel had moaned a couple times. Art couldn't even bring himself to ask since he was afraid that the answer was 'I only did it for your sake' since he... Actually wanted Adriel to... Want this? It was hard to get upset though with how his whole body was humming so he would have to think on that later. Hopefully he wouldn't hate himself. Was that what Adriel had also meant by regret? He couldn't regret this even if he did end up hating himself, though.

"That's okay," Adriel said, almost like he was reading Art's mind. Kind of? "Some people don't enjoy it, or they get very little enjoyment in it. For those people, sexual contact is more about the mental aspect, and there is nothing wrong with that. Intellectuals especially are like that since they rely on their mind and imagination a lot. A lot of it is mental for me, and I enjoy it the most when the other person is telling me how much they want it."

That... made sense. The first time he had done it in the shower, he had not imagined anything and got almost no pleasure. The second time... He had been thinking about... someone. And it felt better, but only marginally. And this time, he had been thinking about Adriel. And... He hoped he had conveyed how much he enjoyed this? He had told Adriel yes the whole time. Oh... And maybe that was why Adriel moaned and kept telling him he was doing good and being good? Art grimaced a little since that thought made him feel aroused... Even though... Well, he had just finished, so he didn't get hard, but it still felt the same but without the physical response. What was he supposed to do? He starting moving a little since the embrace, while soothing at first, was growing uncomfortable and Adriel gently released him then picked up and... gave him back his shirt? When had that come off?

"If you want to try taking care of your arousal again, you can probably imagine what we just did and it will feel a lot better for you," Adriel explained to him while smiling. He could? That was nice. It would definitely help. He needed a shower since his boxers were sticky, and he could try again then. "If you want to continue coming to me for it, I am more than willing. I will warn you that the second option will probably lead to sex eventually, though."

It would eventually lead to sex? What they did was not sex? Well, Adriel did say it was possible to do this without sex, and he did know sex required the removal of clothes but Adriel had only taken off his outer shirt and nothing else. "I will try it myself and see if it works," he told Adriel, then drowned a little as he continued to wonder about sex. Adriel had mentioned... That time when asking what Christos had done... About things going in any of his orifices. So. That was probably how men had sex. Which made sense. He hated that he had thought of him in this moment, but Adriel had also taken care of him then made sure he could never be hurt by him again. So. The thought of him was nowhere near as painful as it had been a week prior. Or even a few days prior. Art felt like this experience had helped him mature and overcome the last part of that since the thought of sex. With Adriel. Didn't fill him with dread. And those neck kisses were vastly different when Adriel did it. He should probably say something to convey how he enjoyed it since Adriel liked that. He had no idea what to say "Thank you?" He was relieved when Adriel grinned at him.

"You are welcome," Adriel said, sounding amused. Maybe he didn't convey it right? "And yes, thank you can be an appropriate thing to say in this case since I gave you the gift of learning pleasure along with advice. And I thank you for letting me see you like that as your first time - that can only be given once, after all. Don't hesitate to use this memory in the future, either... Or imagining new scenarios, either. Some might be offended, but I'll be flattered that you think I am sexy enough to use in your imagination."

Art blushed and looked away then, but nodded. "I'll just... shower," he said. And experiment, he couldn't say. Was it normal to want it a second time so soon? "And go to sleep. We have to leave in the morning." Adriel would be flattered if he imagined him? He wanted to escape now - he wasn't hard yet, but he could tell it wouldn't be long. He had already bothered Adriel for this once and... He had to think some more on the sex thing since Adriel had told him more could lead to sex. And... imagine what sex with him might be to see if that was right in his mind? Healer Vita didn't want to talk about anything sexual and got uncomfortable and embarrassed. Was he supposed to ask Adriel this also? Probably since Adriel was still part of it and Healer Vita had said Adriel being part of it was a good reason to talk to him about it. But he couldn't. Not tonight. Admitting it once and explaining things was enough for tonight. And. He had a lot of answers to think over, too.

"Alright, I have a few things to finish taking care of also, but that was fun," Adriel said in a cheerful tone. That was as good as a opening as Art had heard, and he all but ran out though he was careful not to slam the door. Oh wait. Adriel had said it was fun? So... Maybe one more time without sex might be ok? He did say eventually, after all. Eventually lead to sex. Right, talk about it later with Adriel, shower now.

Art's life had gotten a bit more complicated, but at least it was on the happy side of the wheel so that was probably good.

Art had had a very long morning, and it wasn't even over yet. Not that Art wanted it to end. He didn't think he wanted it to end? Adriel had reminded him there were house elves on the boat and that they could be watching. They might have already watched some of the things he tried to do himself, too!

At the moment, Art had finished getting more answers from Adriel. It was good they had talked, too, because he had been starting to feel like... he didn't matter. With how Adriel had been avoiding or putting him off about... things... for a week, even though he had said he would be willing. Ah, and the rejection about not being able to touch Adriel like he was getting to touch him stung, too, but then Adriel talked about why he wouldn't let Art do anything and it actually made sense. Art was all kinds of distracted any time Adriel was around, and he didn't need his bodyguard distracted the same way or he would get killed! Or worse - eaten.

What they had been doing up to this point had been... Well, Art had been getting frustrated because nothing he did to himself felt as good as that night in their hotel rooms had. Much better than when he had tried when he was younger, but it still wasn't the same. His body responded to Adriel on a level that would be a little scary if he did not trust him so much. It was wild and exhilarating though to let Adriel do whatever he wanted, and even though he had been wanting more, Adriel talking about refusing to do anything outside the terms they had set had dispelled the last of the worries Art had had about the whole thing. He frowned a little as he put his hand to his stomach because it was doing that weird tickling sensation he had started associating with arousal since he felt it any time he was around Adriel and thinking about their activities.

Now he wanted to go back to touching, or touching himself, but he wasn't too sure how to start things up. He also suspected that touching himself was probably not the right thing to do right now since he had agreed to letting Adriel control his pleasure. It was a good choice since even the beginning that he had originally thought was kind of boring at first had quickly built into something more, and even though Art still thought it might just be a little gross, Adriel's tongue inside him at the end had... Well, just thinking about it had him squirming a little now. That was ok though since all Art had to do was look up at Adriel with a question in his eyes and Adriel usually knew what he wanted. Looking at him like that also made Adriel look away often like he just did, but Art stayed patient and was rewarded when Adriel turned back to him and smiled even if he wouldn't quite meet his eyes.

"Done with asking questions then?" Adriel asked him. "We can continue if you still want to."

Art furrowed his brows since there was one last thing what was bothering him. "I still don't understand why I can't get myself to feel the same way even though I did a lot of remembering imagining," he said. "I did everything you have told me to so far." Though he didn't think he would be doing the sex community. Probably. Even if Adriel was offering to introduce him to one and promised he would be very willing to join his bed if he did. It was tempting though to learn something Adriel might not know and be the one to shoe him something new. That would be difficult though since he didn't know everything Adriel knew, and all evidence was pointing towards him barely scratching the surface. It also didn't feel right to sleep with people like Adriel did, but he would at least let him introduce him to one and show him what a sex community was. Maybe. Probably not.

Adriel smirked at his question and Art felt the flutters in his stomach intensify for a split second. He was getting used to the feeling so reflexively swallowed to shove it down and watched Adriel hold out his hand to him. "Take my hand, Art," he said, and Art lifted his out of the water and put it in Adriel's hand while he looked at him and wondered what was going to happen next. Adriel guided his hand to his chest, and it took Art a couple seconds to realize what he was trying to do when their fingers kept getting tangled together, but he dropped his eyes down to watch as he started letting Adriel move his own fingers on his left nipple. Then Adriel was in front of him, and he placed his own hand on Art's other nipple and started moving it the same way he was trying to get Art to move his fingers. "Try to copy what I am doing with this nipple using your fingers and let's see if you can figure out the answer yourself. If you do something that feels better than what I am doing, tell me and repeat the motion, and I will mimic it."

Then Adriel moved the hand that had been manipulating his fingers down to his waist, and Art felt a little unsure about what he was doing with his own hand. Try to copy Adriel's touch. Oh. He was initially just smoothing his thumb over it, but on this pass it was a very light brush that tingled and made him want to press his chest into Adriel's hand. He refrained since Adriel had told him to mimic, so he frowned in concentration and tried to ignore the following brushes until he was able to replicate it with his own thumb. It still wasn't as nice? He looked at Adriel with confusion.

"Some people like their own touches more since they are used to fumbling fools," Adriel replied with a shrug. The hand he had on Art's waist slipped to his back though, and Art relaxed and dropped his hand when Adriel pulled him in against his chest and held him. "But when things are on the same skill level, the extra suspension of another person touching you gives an additional edge of anticipation. That, and your intolerance all your life for touch means you are extra sensitive, especially for the nice touches. Do you like when I touch your nipples?"

"Yes," Art said as he focused on his hips to make sure he didn't start rubbing himself up against Adriel. "All of your touches have felt nice."

Adriel lowered his head and very lightly touched his lips to Art's neck, and Art breathed out a sigh of pleasure as he tilted his head to give Adriel more to work with. Those lips glided up towards his ear, and he shivered and brought up his arms to hold Adriel around his neck. "Even when I stuck my tongue in your arse, then licked all around it?" Adriel quietly asked, his hot breath caressing Art's right ear while the lips barely touched it.

"Yes," Art gasped out without thinking, then blushed when he realized he had. He didn't mean to admit it out loud - it was gross! Oh, but that was apparently the answer Adriel wanted to hear since he started rubbing his thigh against Art's arousal just like Art had been wanting to do, then really started kissing and licking his neck. "Yes," Art said again since the new rule was at least once for every new action to make sure Adriel kept going.

Art just held on and enjoyed the feeling of the warm and deep water, Adriel holding him up, slowly rubbing against him, and sucking and gently nipping at his neck. He never thought he would like biting, but this was ok. More than ok. He moved his head as he panted and let Adriel mark him. Kiss marks. Art had been surprised to see them on his neck that following morning, and Adriel had been right about them not hurting. Then Adriel came in and healed them up, and it made him sad to see them gone. "I don't want these healed," Art murmured. "They don't hurt. I like them." Ah, they were bruises, but also the opposite of bruises. Real bruises represented pain, but... "They represent pleasure."

Adriel groaned and something hard poked Art's hip for a second when Art got a particularly nice grind. "Good," Adriel told him in a husky tone that made Art feel warm. "So very very good. You never did say if you wanted to continue to try edging or if you wanted to move on to other things."

Oh, and hadn't that been an experience. The first time was easy - he warned Adriel and Adriel stopped. It only felt a little disappointing, but the finger in his butt had felt nice and relaxing even if it had not been pleasurable yet. Oh, but that second time? Art had almost wanted to cry when he knew it was too late, then he wanted to cry because Adriel stopped it. Somehow, he had stopped it. That whole thing had been like a lesson, but in a classroom where the teacher was actually good and could teach him something rather than the teachers he had had in school who didn't understand that Art already knew the lesson - the lesson and the whole course.

It was that third time that had been almost torturous, though. He knew from Adriel's encouragements that he had been doing very good as he figured out how to take and accept pleasure at the same time. And it had felt so good. After being stopped the first two times, and with the addition of having Adriel's help with stroking and touching his prostate, Art's body and mind had wanted that completion at the end that would have been the best he had ever felt. Adriel had even said he wouldn't stop him if he did. And that he wanted him to reach the very edge of his pleasure, hence the name of it, and that the third time was completely up to him. Art had not wanted to stop though, and he loved to see that gleam of interest every time he managed to say something that pleased Adriel. And when he had succeeded, Adriel managed to reward him with something that had felt even better when he didn't think anything could have topped having Adriel's hand around his arousal and his fingers in Art's bum.

"Edging," Art said after he licked his lower lip. "At least one more time?"

"Edging it is," Adriel said with a smile, then started walking back to their spot while carrying him. "Although we do need more lube. Water won't rinse it off, but soap will wash it off, and of course you can scoop it off. Or lick and suck it clean."

Art blushed again, but he didn't say anything since Adriel seemed to like reminding him of that? Adriel did say he liked hearing when someone said they liked something, so maybe he wanted to hear it again. It was just the two of them, and he already said he liked it so he took a deep breath. This was easier than admitting to the healer how much things hurt, so he could do it. "It felt really good to have your tongue in there," he stated, keeping his tone calm though he could feel how hard his heart was thumping with nervousness. Embarrassment? Yes, embarrassment, not nervousness since he did also think it was gross. The emotion wheel was interesting. He didn't want to be judgemental (it was also connected to disgusted and disapproving like embarrassment was), but the judgemental was there. Adriel sat down and had started adjusting him, but he froze with Art said he liked it. Art liked that Adriel liked it since it meant they were sharing more happiness. "I don't want to feel judgemental, disapproving, or disgusted by that since it felt so good. How do I stop it... the right way?"

Adriel blinked at him and looked confused? No, that wasn't what it was, and it was gone too fast for Art to identify so he frowned a little. That made Adriel smile at him, and he lost his frown. "Through logic - straddle me and I will explain further," Adriel said, and Art complied as Adriel grabbed the bottle of lube and started coating his fingers in it. "So I explained it before, but close your eyes and imagine it as I say it." Art closed his eyes and nodded, and heard Adriel's hand slip into the water. "So, you are showering and you know you are about to be naked - or near naked - in front of someone, so you scrub yourself up very well." Art had done that, so imagining it was easy. He immediately relaxed when he felt Adriel's finger at his hole, and the additional weight helped it slip in very easily and he gasped out a yes. "And then you soak in a bath, so anything that might have been on it is soaked away." Art had to put his hands on Adriel's shoulders to make sure he didn't lose his balance as that finger started moving in and out. It was harder to concentrate, but easier to see it since he really was in a bath with Adriel so imagining anything that might have been on his hold being gone was easy since it already was. "Then a spell is cast so everything in the passage it gone. A regular waste removal spell that everyone uses, so there is no worries about proficiency. It is as clean on the inside as it is on the outside. You can see it, yes?"

Art gripped Adriel's shoulder tighter as he nodded. "Yes, I can see it," he shakily said as he tried to keep himself from moving down on the finger as it rubbed the spot right before the prostate so it felt good, but not blindingly good. "Am I allowed to move?"

"You are asking permission first, that is very good," Adriel said in a slightly deeper tone. Art didn't know why, but it send tingles to his toes. "No, you are not allowed to move, but I am very pleased you asked."

Art heard the bottle being set down, then Adriel's arm went around his waist while that finger moved and then... His mouth was on his nipple. Art moaned his yes this time, and Adriel sucked on his nipple as he started rubbing the right spot. Art had to grit his teeth to not move at all since Adriel and told him he was not allowed, and it was difficult to fight his body since it really wanted more. When he felt a second finger start rubbing at his entrance but it did nothing more, he realized his whole body was tense, and he immediately relaxed it and it got a lot easier to just let the pleasure roll through him. "Yesss," he hissed out. He wanted that finger. He wanted all of the fingers. Every new one last time had made the stretchy burn feel good, and when the burn had stopped, it had felt better than the prior amount with. "All of them, please!"

Art had apparently said something good again since he felt Adriel buck up, and moaned when that motion rubbed Adriel's arousal against his inner thigh. Oh. He had an idea! But before he could voice it, Adrial pulled his head back from his chest while he pushed the second finger in. "Fuck," Adriel cursed, and Art froze and was afraid he did something wrong. "No, shhh, you are good. So good. Here, sink yourself down on my fingers as deep as you want them to go. Show me where else it feels good from what you recall from the last time, but just go slow." Art relaxed and opened his eyes to give Adriel a quizzical look while he gladly accepted the reward. What had he done right? Why had Adriel cursed and sounded frustrated? Huh, and Adriel looked frustrated, but not at him since he gave him a smile, though he did avert his eyes a little down to Art's mouth. "I normally have better self control, but I keep having to put myself in check with your eagerness and I didn't mean to rub myself against you, so I am sorry."

Art gave a smile for a brief second since he had an idea! Such a good idea! It was the idea that Adriel had given him when that happened! And it would make them both happy! "Can I hold both of our arousals together and rub against you like that?" Art eagerly asked, excited to share his genius idea. He was very obedient though and kept his movements on Adriel's hand slow. It could be both of their reward! "I can use both of my hands, and you can hold me and make sure I don't lose my balance?"

Adriel looked up at the ceiling with the constellations, searched for something real quick, then started... Talking to the stars in... Navajo? Is sounded lyrical like Navajo had sounded. Lyrical and primal, both. He was praying, why was he praying? And then the fingers inside of him curled up to rub, and Art stopped thinking as he let his head fall back. "You are the most devious little minx I have had the pleasure of playing with," Adriel said in a tone that was almost a growl. Like Adriel was trying not to growl. Only the words sounded very good and made the throaty tone just as tingly as the low tone was. More with how Adriel was rubbing that spot and starting to push in a third finger. Oh, the stretching burn felt so good, and Art carefully rocked back into the finger since Adriel had said he could move as long as it was slow. "We are on the third finger now, but what about when four fingers is not enough? When I have stretched you out until you become used to it. I could train you to take my whole fist if you want."

Art didn't know that that was possible but... Oof, the thought. "Yes," he agreed. "Yes yes yes!" Then the hand that hand been splayed out on his back to support him slid up to the back of his neck - still supporting but in a hold that was firm and gentle, and Adriel's mouth was on his neck. "No, I'm going to cum!" Art almost shouted as he tried to pull back - the new feeling had been overwhelming and he had to get away from it to stop. Thankfully, Adriel immediately stilled since Art could not break out of his hold. Art held his breath and whined as he struggled to hold it in, and when he succeeded, he started gulping in air. Adriel started to lick his throat, and it felt calming rather than sexual now that Art was calming down after regaining control.

"So good," Adriel said as he nuzzled his neck. "Very very good. I can't help but wonder how many times you can do that - it is impressive." Art would preen if he could, but he was still feeling shaky and...

Oops. He had dug his fingers and nails into Adriel's shoulders. Art started to try to pry them open. "I'm so sorry," Art said, worried he had hurt him. Hid fingers were stuck! No, relax them - they are just locked up like they could get after hours of map making without a break. "Sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you."

"No, I like that," Adriel said in a casual tone, then kissed Art's collar bone. "Scratching, biting, and hair pulling... that is you telling me with your body how much you are enjoying something." Oh, Adriel had mentioned that before. Art relaxed, and thankfully his fingers came free. Just indents, no blood. "Are you ready?"

Was Art ready? He carefully circled his hands around to the back of Adriel's neck and interlocked his fingers so he wouldn't dig his nails in. Adriel might say he liked it, but Art still felt bad that he could have broken skin because he wasn't even aware of what he was doing. "I'm ready," he said. "Can you really put your hole hand in me?" And why did that question make Adriel whimper when Adriel had been the one to say he could?

"It is possible, but it takes weeks of stretching and preparing," Adriel mumbled into Art's neck. "You are insatiable. Whoever you find to play with in England will have a hard time keeping up, so make sure you have pepperup potions on hand for them."

Art frowned since he had no intention of finding anyone, let alone buy pepperup potion for them, but Adriel started rubbing that spot again and he let that thought go. "Edging again?" he requested. Adriel had wondered how many times he could take it, and now he was curious, too. It got harder with each pass, but the pleasure was sinking in deeper each time as well. "I don't think I will want to do this on my own, but on you I like it."

Adriel quietly hissed. "We can do it as many times as you want - just tell me at the start each time and I will make sure to stop when you warn me," he said as he sedately milked the right spot so the pleasure was slow to grow. That was good since Art didn't think he could handle something fast and intense so soon after Adriel had pushed him so hard. "It is possible to do on your own though - you can keep it up for days on your own, actually. It is a slower start, but you stroke yourself until you are about to cum, then stop for a couple minutes. Do it again, then stop. Keep that up for an hour, then go do something else for half an hour with a toy up your bum. There are magical ones that can stimulate like fingers do, and they have levels of intensity. After that half hour break, do it again, and it will start getting more intense. It does take a lot of experimenting since doing it too soon won't build the pleasure, but waiting too long will make you lose all of your progress. At the same time, you can do it in public if you are sneaky enough. A straight face, frequent bathroom breaks because you had bad clams the night before, then stroke yourself in a stall before you resume your job or whatever it was you were doing."

Adriel twisted his hand a little so he could rub Art's perineum with his thumb and gave the back of Art's neck a gentle squeeze that briefly made him think of Christos. But it was gentle and the pleasure was there so Art stayed relaxed as he watched Adriel's face. "Close your eyes and imagine it for me." Art closed his eyes and nodded. "You have spent the weekend in your apartment edging yourself until you feel like this, how you do now." Art nodded. It was a little bit of a struggle since the thought of being in London, alone, was not a happy one, but Adriel was a very good bad memory deterrent. Like a dream catcher, but for memories instead of dreams. "That morning, you wake up an hour and a half early for a shower, and you clean yourself up very well. Then you cast the waste removal spell, and start stroking yourself until it starts feeling a little nice. Not full pleasure, but nice. Grab the bottle of lube and toy you keep in your shower nowadays, and the toy you picked out for yourself looks like a rubber model of three large fingers, just like what is inside of you right now." Art started panting as the imagery grew stronger in his mind. "You carefully prep yourself with the lube and your own finger until your hole is relaxed enough to take the narrow tip of your toy, then you hold it in place with your off hand as you start stroking yourself with your slippery hand. Go ahead, drop your hand down into the water and start stroking yourself - nice and easy like I was doing for you earlier."

Art licked his dry lips and did what Adriel said to do as he imagined being in the bathtub at home. "There you go, and slowly move your hips as well until my fingers are as deep as they can go, just like you want to do with your toy," Adriel said. "You are looking for nice, not for pleasure. Nice and sensual, like my lips when they brush your skin." Art's breath hitched once as he followed the actions in his head. He knew Adriel was there, but... Mental pleasure, as Adriel had called it. Ah, his own fantasizing had not gotten this deep, so maybe that was why his efforts this past week had also not been as good as Adriel was. "And now that you are all the way down, you can use a spell to turn on the toy." And Adriel slowly wiggled his fingers. "And a second spell to make sure it stays in place. Now you are allowed to stroke yourself for pleasure, but you also have to be mindful that the toy is in your butt. You can even imagine that I am watching you stroke yourself like I am doing right now."

Art moaned and didn't notice that the hand still on the back of Adriel's neck was starting to get tangled around the braids. Because he was there in his bath, but he was imagining Adriel watching him stroke himself. Adriel who told him he wanted to see the pleasure in his eyes that day in the hotel. "Remember to breathe," he heard Adriel say. "Nice and easy. Your breathing should remain smooth like your strokes. Move your hips as you stroke - you want to thrust your penis into your fist. There you go, but don't forget that the head also has its nice spots, so when you are pulling back, twist your wrist so your fingers and palm can run over it until you find that really perfect spot."

Art hoped there was a toy with three fingers back in England. One that wiggled like this. No, it didn't rub the spot, but the stretching and wiggling so deep inside made stroking himself feel better. That, and Adriel's instructions. "Yesss," he sighed out as he attempted to find that perfect spot while being careful not to move too fast and risk getting too close to the edge. Ah, that balance was hard to find though - he could feel sweat begin to bead on his forehead as the minutes started going by. It was so frustrating that he couldn't find it and he was so close!

"Stop," Adriel said, and Art froze in the position he was in. The fingers inside of him was still moving though so while he could slowly back away from that edge, he was still being held close to it. "Sssshh, you are trying too hard. Remember, you want to relax into the pleasure. That is why you are doing this in the hot water - it reminds you of the bath and the lesson so you can do it the right way before you go to work." To work? Oh, the imagination. He was both in his tub at home and in the tube here with Adriel and forgot that it was right before work. "Sadly, your time in the tub is up since your alarm went off. But you have the toy inside of you, and you grab a muffin to eat as you rush out the door." And Adriel's fingers twitched as spread a bit, then started moving while staying buried and Art frowned in confusion since he couldn't predict the movements anymore. "You increase the setting just a tiny bit right before you enter the library, then walk in. Straight face, no frown, just relaxed like it is a normal but good day at work. Brian was fired last week because he picked on a new hire who was actually the daughter of one of the board members, and your own office is much bigger. You do need to head there quickly though so you can set out your work for the day before going to the bathroom before you lose your edge. Or maybe the bathrooms now would be a good idea? What do you think?"

Art swallowed. "Now," he replied, since he was losing his 'edge' even with Adriel's fingers inside of him. Not that he was any less hard, but he could see himself losing his hardness if anyone stopped to talk to him. And it was good that Adriel said Brian had been fired since seeing his face would definitely have made him uninterested.

"You walk straight to the bathroom and the stalls are empty. You walk in and start playing with yourself, but since you need to be quick, you also increase the setting a couple more times." Adriel's fingers started scissoring Art so there was even more stretch, and Art let out a small whimper since he wasn't sure he was allowed to move yet? "You want to look for that spot on your head again, but you really need to be mindful of being silent so nobody can hear you. That means quiet and discrete movements so nobody can hear flesh on flesh or you breathing hard. Go ahead and start moving, but you want to stop before you get to that edge - the setting has to be lowered and you have only a few minutes before it might get suspicious or you are considered late."

Art opened his mouth to keep his panting silent and immediately started moving like Adriel was saying. It was harder to judge the edge and pleasure with the way the fingers in his butt were moving and... Were they heating up? Oh god, they were. He had to swallow his whine and immediately jerked his hand away his dick and... "I need to lower the setting," he quickly said, hoping that was the right thing to do. And it was since the fingers slowed back down. He stayed still for a few more seconds, then relaxed.

"Good," Adriel said, and Art swallowed hard. He wasn't sure if he could keep doing this, it was intense. But... Didn't Adriel say edging was that way? He could do one more. Keep going. He nodded. "Good Art, you are doing good. Put your hand back on your arousal so I know you want to continue the story." Art carefully wrapped his fingers back around his shaft where it was less sensitive. "You leave the cubicle and go to the sink to wash your hands, but someone else is rushing towards the urinals and you have to stop to let him pass. It was good that you got there so quickly - he might have been able to hear something. You wash your hands real quick, then escape into your office where you begin to lay things out for work. You check to see if there are any messages, and there is a meeting you have to attend at eleven right before lunch to talk about Atlantis, but the day is yours otherwise. You sit down -" And Adriel somehow managed to push his fingers in just a fraction deeper. Art barely managed to swallow that sound. "-and it felt so nice that you want to rub yourself just a little bit through your pants. So go ahead and rub with only your hand, not stroke, and relax." Art started rubbing himself with his palm in firm and sure movements since this was a method he was used to after imagining himself rubbing up against Adriel so much this past week. "Wiggle and bounce your ass down too if you want, but since it is just you, you can spread your legs as wide open in your chair as you want. The desk will hide you well enough for you to move your hand if you are fast enough, and people should knock before they enter. Still, there could be an emergency so you have to keep your expression as neutral as possible and not make any sounds at all."

Art very much wasn't sure if he could last past this one. Or if he could stop himself. "If I want to finish, am I allowed to turned up the setting?" he quietly asked as he ground down on Adriel's fingered for the extra feeling with the wiggling. "I don't... I am not sure if..."

"Sshh," Adriel told him in a soothing tone. "If that is what you want, then of course. If you can relax into the pleasure again though, I will stroke you to completion."

Art started to frown in thought before he smoothed his expression away. Oh, all these different orders were so hard to keep track of while he was also trying to rub himself off at work. The offer reminded him that Adriel had never answered his earlier question, though. "Can I hold our arousals together and complete that way?" he asked.

Art heard Adriel slowly breathe out. "If you can impress me with three more," Adriel said. "The meeting will be difficult, though. You only get one very short break for an entire one hour meeting with boring people who will want you to recite Atlantis facts."

Art's grinding got a little jerky since he got a little too close, and he stilled himself and pressed his arousal tightly against himself. "Kay," he agreed, and the word had an edge of a whine to it.

"Someone knocks on your office door, then the doorknobs begins to turn," Adriel said, and Art pulled his hand away in a knee jerk reaction to not be caught and had to bring his hand back to wrap around his shaft while he made sure his expression was neutral. "And one of the board's new hires smiles as she looked in. She just needed to let you know that there was a meeting this morning, and she was going around making sure that everyone got the message. She smiles again and waits for your reply."

"I know," Art said. His voice was a little unsteady, but he added one of his normal nods to it.

"She looks worried and asks if you are ok, that you look a little flushed."

"No, I'm fine," Art said, a little irritated that Adriel and her were both being a pushy about how he looked. Then he reminded himself that this was just a scene Adriel was talking about to teach him how to edge himself and let go of the irritation. Letting go was healthy. Logic. He wasn't very disgusted about the thought of Adriel's tongue in his butt anymore, too.

"She gives you a nervous smile, apologizes for bothering you, and leaves." Adriel said. "Sadly, her bothering made you irritated enough that the rubbing you just did was pretty much lost. It is too early to go to the bathroom though so soon after your last trip - especially since you told her you were fine." And that was true. Art kind of frowned for a split second since he realized that Adriel had probably irritated him just for that. Now who was devious?! "So you have the choices of either calling it quits, or pulling yourself out of your pants right there under your desk and slowly stroking yourself back to how you were with the lust pooling in your belly."

Art was unhappy that calling it quits was even an option, but the last five words made him gasp. Pooling in his belly! That was the warmth he kept feeling - lust! That realization made his hips twitch forward and... he lost his thoughts. No! He refused - he wanted to do this three times and one was done. His office was there! "I wonder what you are thinking about so hard?" he heard Adriel say in an amused tone, but he didn't open his eyes and frowned. "I will stroke myself," he said in a stubborn voice. "I want to rub our arousals against each other and reward us both. I want you to feel happy like I feel happy."

Adriel was quiet for several seconds, and Adriel could hear him taking carefully controlled breaths. The fingers in his butt were still moving though, so he slowly started to stroke himself. "Good," Adriel told him. "Remember, you are looking for that nice spot on the head, but you have to make up for the fact that you can't thrust forward. Here, since on my lap, on my hand, and see what it really feels like to sit on a toy. Careful though - you don't want to crush my fingers by plopping right down."

Art started rubbing his thumb over his slit like Adriel had done earlier as he slowly settled into Adriel's lap, then he gave a careful wiggle and gasped at how different it was now. He kept his thumb moving as he began to think over his new position and how he was supposed to move while remaining quiet and discreet because a chair was going to be squeaky. Wait, no, he was taking extra care so he wouldn't hurt Adriel's fingers, but using a squeaky chair as an idea would help him be cautious. So he gripped Adriel for balance... Then peeked his eye open since he shouldn't be gripping anything.

Oh. Ooooh. Adriel's eyes were lidded and looking a little dazed and he had his hair at the back the same way he did when Adriel was a horse. "Do you like that?" Art curiously asked as he tightened his fist a little.

Adriel's expression had gone blank? Innocent? But his eyes were still the same as before? "It doesn't hurt," Adriel said as he gave him a smile. "Close your eyes and we can continue."

Art might not have said anything or noticed anything at all if he had not been watching Adriel dodge him so much this past week. He might also have believed that nothing at all was odd before the emotion wheel. He knew there was something happening, so he kept stroking himself slowly and discreetly like he was supposed to while he watched Adriel. Oh. "I didn't ask if it hurt, I asked if you liked it," Art said. There was an answer here he wanted to know.

Adriel ran his tongue over his lower lip and sucked on it for a second. Art liked how that looked and mimicked the action.Apparently Adriel also liked how it looked on him since he watched before his eyes went back up. "I think I mentioned that hair pulling in certain ways felt good during moments of passion when you were scared that you pulling on my main as a horse had hurt me," he answered, then gave Art a large smile. "I have a beautiful man in my lap, riding on my hand, and stroking himself while pulling my hair. It counts as a moment of passion."

Art blushed and regretted asking since the answer was embarrassing and... No, not embarrassing since he wasn't disapproving or hurt. But something that made him feel shy and happy? He kept his eyes down and watched as he stroked himself because he couldn't look up again. He also didn't let go of his hold, though. "Hey, it's a good thing," Adriel said in a gentle tone. "Now close your eyes if you want to continue."

Art closed his eyes and brought up an image of his imaginary office that was new. It was easier this time since all he had to think of was a large executive desk with an idea of a filing cabinet and bookshelves, then wiggled in his 'squeaky' chair and relaxed. He would think about what Adriel said later. Maybe the next time he stroked himself, even. Or he could think of it now - Adriel's expression before he had hidden it. Lust because Art was in his lap, riding on his fingers, and stroking himself while pulled Adriel's hair how he liked it. It was actually a lot easier to accept that Adriel thought of him as beautiful when it was imaginary him imagining that Adriel had said that. And slow and easy because he wanted the pool in his stomach, though it was the weird fluttering right now still, and. He found the spot. He found it and lost it! He relaxed his expression from the frown that was starting to develop and worked on trying to find that spot again by slowly repeating his last movement with only minute changes. The wiggling fingers in his butt was a good reminder that he also had to move his hips, but only slowly and very carefully so the chair would not squeak. Then he found it again and sighed out a silent groan.

This was much nicer than the rubbing at the hotel, though definitely not nicer than being in the bath with Adriel right now since he found it only thanks to him. And he should tell him, too. "I found it," he quietly said as he squirmed on Adriel's fingers. "It's right here, before the... mushroom edge? But also with my palm only brushing along it rather than rubbing it like the rest."

"Good job," Adriel told him, and Art couldn't stop the shiver from the praise. "Good, just keep doing that until I say stop. You are safe in your office, nobody is bothering you at all, and you can turn up your toy just a bit. Honestly, it might be a good idea to do so since you will just have a minute or two for yourself if that. Maybe you can go the whole time without even needing a break at all if you turn it up a little more." He felt Adriel leaning in towards him, and Adriel's hand that had been holding his neck that he had forgotten about since it had gotten so comfortable twisted just a little bit making Art's head also move with it since he was so relaxed, and Adriel's mouth was right at his ear. "You just need to make it through the meeting and I will let you have the reward you want."

Adriel was so close against him that Art's stroking was making the back of his hand rub against Adriel's stomach. He just needed to get through the meeting? He didn't have to do this three times? If there was a catch here, Art couldn't see it. Just get through the meeting, and he had time to adjust to Adriel's fingers as long as he kept his strokes nice and smooth like they were. How would they actually do the meeting, though? "I don't have to actually sit here a whole hour, right?" he asked. Because he would if he had to, but he really didn't. Thankfully, Adriel huffed a laugh.

"No, it will just be ten minutes of you telling me about Atlantis - something you should be able to do in your sleep," Adriel said in that deeper tone. "Of course, you will have to do it without showing anything but a professional air."

Art nodded. "I want to just get through the hour," he decided. "How long do I have to adjust?"

Adriel hummed in thought. "Five minutes, and you can change your mind on your choice during those five minutes," Adriel told him. "You cannot stop stroking yourself though."

"Yes, I want the hour on the high setting," he decided. Five minutes of stroking and fingering, then ten minutes after that with him talking about Atlantis to help him focus on something else.

Oh, and then Adriel shifted him a little bit so his hand would have room to move in between his legs, and he started pumping his fingers in and out. "Don't stop stroking and just relax," Adriel told him as the fingers pressed into his prostate with every to and fro. "Quiet, too. You don't want anyone passing your door hearing your moans. But it is safe enough to completely relax since nobody will be here in the next few minutes." Adriel brushed their cheeks against each other like he had seen Adriel do with his other friends. It was the first time Art was getting to feel it though, and it made him feel special. "There are toys shaped like a penis, and others like a vagina that you can stick your arousal inside of. What if you had bought a penis shaped one instead of ones shaped like my fingers?"

Art had not once thought about Adriel sticking his penis in him, and his breath caught in his throat when that thought suddenly popped up. Why did he say that? Did he... Did he want to? "Just think, the stretch would be more," Adriel continued, then started scissoring his fingers right over his prostate so every movement brushed the spot. "You would feel so full with a larger thing inside of you for the meeting." Meeting? Oh, the meeting. Adriel must be pushing him like he did earlier talking about his fist. "Don't stop stroking unless you want to take another break during the meeting." Art didn't even realize he had frozen up at the mention of a penis and he robotically started moving his hand again. "There are more impersonal shapes, of course, but I would love to imagine you buying yours shaped like fingers or a dick. Am I allowed to imagine you? Like you have been imagining me all week?" Oh no, Adriel's hand was warming back up again. Art swallowed hard so he wouldn't whine. He just had to get through the meeting with only the fingers and he could do that."I've played with myself twice since the hotel, and both times I thought about that night with you." Wait. He had? "I won't fantasize about you beyond what we do together though without your permission. Remember, I stopped checking you out until you say it is ok."

Oh. Art forgot about that. "You can check me out," Art quietly panted out. This was a lot harder than he thought it would be, and he had no idea what was right or not. But no, he did not mind at all anymore if Adriel checked him out. "You can fantasize about me." Was that all? Since Adriel didn't say anything about sexual intercourse... No, no sexual intercourse today was what he said. He was very firm about making sure everything was about Art's pleasure. He was trying to make sure it was only Art's pleasure, but Art had said he wanted to rub against him there so... A loophole? And if Art really wanted Adriel inside of him now, would he?

"You can also put your... your penis inside of me," Art said, using the word Adriel used. It felt weird using that word, but it was better than 'dick' that was also used by Adriel. "I would like to feel that burn for the meeting. Can I have a penus shaped-"

Art was cut off when Adriel put his mouth against his and started... kissing him? Art opened his eyes with confusion and saw that yes, Adriel's face was right, or his eyes were since just about everything else was too close to see. And his lips were soft and tasted like caramel and... Oh, they had on his butt and the tongue that had been in him down there was now in his mouth. He should feel grossed out, but he didn't feel grossed out. Because it was Adriel and because he was very clean and because there was only the flavor of caramel. The pleasure definitely helped. He moaned into Adriel's mouth while he tugged on his arousal, and he was so close now. Very close. Then the kiss stopped and he was panting hard. "Don't make offers like that," Adriel told him. "I'm trying to not take your virginity in here. Five minutes are up. Start talking about Atlantis, nothing else. Keep your eyes on mine."

Art wasn't too sure if he had been bad? But he immediately stopped stoking to take the reprieve, only it wasn't a reprieve because those fingers were still rubbing and stretching all over his prostate. Then they were deeply plunged in, and he realized he had not said anything at all. Right. Atlantis. He started reciting facts he would have sworn up and down just ten minutes ago that would have been very easy to talk about, but not with the fingers and not with how intently Adriel was watching him. Like how a cat might watch him right before it wanted to eat him. Or the Nemean Lions actually, when he got close so check on Adriel. They had stared at him very intently just like this. Ten minutes. How long had it been? He stuttered for a second, coughed, and blamed allergies before he resumed. Adriel smiled with amusement for a second, and Art was able to relax. Into the pleasure. No, focus. Ten minutes. He felt like he was in an ocean of physical sensations, and he was barely keeping his head above the waves so he wouldn't be swept out.

By the time Adriel called a stop and pulled out his fingers, Art wasn't sure if he actually was saying anything coherent. But his back was being rubbed and he was told he was good and did a very good job and that the board was impressed with the facts he gave them. So impressed that they were willing to give him twice as much funds for his next expedition no matter how impossible it seemed. He was shuddering as he clung to Adriel's shoulder with one hand and his hair with the other, and it was all he could do to not rub his arousal against Adriel's stomach where it was right now and just let himself climax like he really really needed to.

"If you need to, then go ahead," Adriel said. Oh. Art had said that last part out loud? "Rub on me. Cum on my stomach. Or you can sit on the edge up here out of the water and I will take care of it. Then after, when you have calmed down and are more clear headed, you can rub our arousals together until you cum again."

Art had started rubbing himself against Adriel as soon as he told him to go ahead, but when Adriel said he could take care of it, Art stilled since it was a reminder that he would not get to play? But no, Adriel said they could. He very much wanted Adriel to take care of his pleasure too since he had not even got to complete at all but still felt more pleasure than ever before. He let go of Adriel's hair and shoulder and tried to get up to go to the edge of the pool, but his legs were locked up after he had knelt so long straddled in Adriel's lap that he could not do it. Then Adriel picked him up and sat him where he wanted to be. "Brace yourself with your hands so you don't lean or fall over," Adriel said - a command in a gentle tone - and Art did that since he could. Then Adriel was kneeling on the seats with his head at Art's stomach level "There you go, put your hands in my hair." Adriel's arms went behind him to give him support, so he did, though he was very careful. "Relax, and if you like this, remember to say yes."

Then Adriel looked down and licked his arousal? Ran his tongue up from base to tip? "Oh, oh yes," Art babbled while he wiggled to spread his legs open and started pushing at Adriel's head. "Yes yes yes." And then his balls were in Adriel's mouth, and while that wasn't what he had wanted, it was close enough that he moaned and started pulling and pushing with his eyes closed. Eyes opened. He had to watch because this had been one of his fantasies when he had tried to think of which holes were used by men.

Then Adriel stopped sucking his balls and laved his tongue up to the tip again where he was leaking more of the clear fluid that had tasted salty and bitter to him when he had tried it out of curiosity. Adriel licked and sucked the area like it tasted delicious, even making mmm'ing noises, and then the mushroom top was in Adriel's mouth (he needed to learn the name of the parts) and Art was bucking up while pushing adriel's head down and "Yes. Yes yes yes," he started chanting as he thrust himself deep down Adriel's throat without regard. Not that he needed to regard him since Adriel tightened his arms around Art's lower back to draw him in and was just as enthusiastic. Feeling a throat swallow and hum vibrations was vastly different from strokes, and being able to thrust into something that couldn't be taken away like a hand could be was perfect. Art wanted to stand and thrust even harder into Adriel's mouth, but his legs were already strained even in a sitting position that he didn't think he could do it. Then Adriel withdrew one of his arms to reach up to his nipple, and he gently started pinching it.

Art gripped Adriel's hair and just hung on at that point. Relax. He let Adriel take care of it and found out that he was either maintaining what Art liked or had probably just been doing that the whole time. He was definitely at the pleasure point where he had been at during the meeting, and he relaxed into the waves rather than fought them and was able to push just a little bit more forward. He didn't want it to end - the crest he was at now felt like the top of a tsunami - but he felt a more pleasure/painful pinch on his nipple and he quietly keened as he started cumming in Adrie's mouth.

Oh, but that wasn't the end like it had been all the previous times he had finished. Adriel didn't stop the sucking and the humming just like Art didn't stop the hair pulling though he did begin thrusting up again by flexing his hips. This was why Adriel had been pushing him? He was gasping for air as he frantically stayed with that wave that made each pulse feel even better than the last. So much better. And then it started getting painful. Even with the pain though, he didn't want to push Adriel's mouth off of him - he just tried to completely relax his body and let Adriel keep him from falling over. That seemed to be the right choice since the pain lessened enough for the last few ejaculations to come out in a more gentle flutter, and he groaned when Adriel suckled even that down before he finally pulled his head back. Adriel asked him a question, and he just gave a nod. Then he was gently pulled back into the water in Adriel's lap, though 'side saddle' this time while being rubbed down and cradled.

"Do you need a nap?" Adriel asked after a few minutes, and that was the first clear thing Art really noticed.

"No, but food," he said with a dry throat. "And more water." He most definitely was not going to take a nap, not when he succeeded. "Why did you kiss me?"

"To shut you up this time," Adriel said with amusement as he pulled out his wand to refill both cups right by them. Oh, Art had knocked over the lube bottle, though. Thankfully, the cap was on. "I would have done a lot worse if you had continued speaking."

Art was confused. Worse? "I liked the kiss, your kisses feel nice," he said just to make sure that Adriel knew his kisses were not bad. "Your mouth does. Everything you do with it. Mouth-oral sex... I imagined you doing that to me twice this past week. It was way better than I could imagine."

Then a cup was pushed into his chest. "Just drink the water, Art," Adriel sighed, sounding kind of like his mother when he was doing something she found difficult but loved him anyway. Exasperated and fond sounded right? "I give you an inch and you take the whole damned ruler and poke me with it. Sexual compliments are meant for when you are trying to get someone else to cum, or if they ask if they are doing a good job. When used as the former, it is called 'pillow talk' or even 'dirty talk.' A lot of people like it since it makes them feel like they are really good at what they are doing and so they feel pleasure... Like you do when I tell you you are doing a great job." Adriel smiled at him then nuzzled his ear. "You are great at dirty talk," he murmured, and Art shivered then frowned. "So good that you keep turning mine back on me. But remember - no sexual intercourse until we are safe and sound back in Greece."