The Garden of Earthly Delights
Disclaimer: I don't own the Coldfire Trilogy.
Warnings: Slash as usual, but no actual love scene due to a lack of time (my time, not the loving couple's…;-)), although various sex toys are mentioned and, in one case, described. The fic is a kind of spin off of 'The Sleeping Beauty' and therefore AU. Slightly crack.
Author's note 1: I opted for the M-rating because of the topic, but I suppose it would also fit under the category T without so much as fluttering a feather.
Author's note 2: Hooray, I managed to finish this story in time and don't have to 'default'. A nightmare's come to an end...;-).
Author's note 3: Well, Silvereyedbitch, this is the answer to your request 'Gerald and Darren visit a sex shop'. It's just a short ficlet rather hastily composed at a very stressful time of the year, and I apologize for the shortcomings (it will be rewritten incl. a steamy love scene ;-) when I write a more elaborate, proper sequel to the 'Sleeping Beauty'), but I hope you (and everybody else) will enjoy reading it anyway…
Author's note 4: The 'Naughty Boy' truly exists, although it's called 'Rude Boy', and I borrowed some of the original advertising blarney for my story. You'll know what I'm talking about when you read on.
Author's note 5: I'm well aware that the technology on Erna's five hundred years after CoS is supposed to resemble good old Earth in the late 90th in my universe, but let's just presume that flat screens and the world wide web already exist.
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooo
Darren stared gloomily into his glass of stout and heaved a heartfelt sigh, by all means not the first one on this abominable evening, wondering dimly whether he would sling his arms around Tarrant's neck and hug him breathless if the damned bastard ever managed to tear himself away from the modern engineering marvels of the lewd kind or opt for the equally tempting possibility of wringing the very same delicate body part in a much more sinister intention.
Back in Jaggonath for roundabout two months Mitchell was still madly in love with Gerald, but sharing his accommodation with the adept there was no denying that his life had undergone several profound changes, regrettably not all for the better. Not a single technical device had been safe from Tarrant's boundless curiosity, and when the former Hunter hadn't been glued to Mitchell's computer catching up on the last five hundred years he had spent in an enchanted sleep he had busied himself with spreading construction plans and instruction manuals all over every available surface including the carpet and their new king-size bed originally destined for more pleasurable purposes and vivisecting Darren's treasured possessions. Unsurprisingly disassembling the electrical equipments had been much easier than reassembling the myriads of mysterious constituent parts even for a brain as brilliant as Gerald Tarrant's, and the cherished stereo which had brightened the young physician's life since his undergraduate days had been the first to go down the drain, quickly followed by the pricey flat screen and the coffeemaker. Gerald had replaced the victims of his research without so much as batting an eyelash, but for a man like Mitchell who was content that something worked without bothering to know how his lover's hunger for knowledge was slightly unnerving, and the young physician counted his blessings at least once a day that Tarrant hadn't turned his attention on the water plumbing or the current conductions yet.
Two days ago Gerald had switched off the blasted computer at around ten p.m. and had joined him on the settee for the late night movie, a soft porn interrupted in five minute intervals by every conceivable related advertisements from lubricants and buzzing, battery operated sources of joy to the usual 'call me if you're horny' rip-offs. It hadn't taken more than a quarter of an hour until they had added their own genuine sounds of pleasure to the background fake moans emitting from the telly, but that short time span had been more than sufficient to register the interested sparkle in the adept's eyes, a sparkle in stark contrast to the mortally offended refusal of his old flame Gary when the young physician had blithely suggested to purchase a toy or two at the beginning of their ill-fated relationship. Ridiculously enough Darren's proposition had hurt Gary's male pride who had stated angrily that a 'real man' didn't need any artificial devices to satisfy his lover's needs, and for the sake of domestic peace and quiet Mitchell had dropped the issue for good.
Nobody quite sane in his mind could harbour a sliver of doubt that Gerald Tarrant was a very fine specimen of Gary's 'real men' despite his androgynous angelic appearance, but to his delight Darren had soon gotten acquainted with a rather kinky streak lurking just beneath the adept's ever so composed façade, and listening to Gerald urging him on with obscenities which would have had a sailor blanch with envy while testing the endurance of their bed had propelled him to levels of arousal previously unknown on more than one occasion.
Hence it had seemed a fun idea to cajole Tarrant into an idly stroll in the balmy autumn air just to surprise him with a visit to Jaggonath's biggest sex shop rather pretentiously called 'The Garden of Earthly Delights' and catering exclusively for the male clientele favouring the same gender, and Darren had giggled inwardly at the delightful image of the self-assured adept staring in wide eyed wonder at the wide variety of the more or less pleasant sex toys the modern world had to offer, toys that would doubtlessly fulfill their duty of baffling a man born in the Revivalist period one thousand and five hundred years ago. He couldn't have been more wrong, alas.
Tarrant had chosen to combine the black, laced leather pants he'd taken a definite liking to during the two months since they had returned from the former realm of the Hunter with his dazzling Revivalist ensemble for their impromptu field trip, his wavy light-brown hair held in place by a golden circlet and the black, heavily embroidered silk of his surcot and cloak dramatically sweeping the ground at his feet. May God help me; he's one of a kind, isn't he? Looks like the spitting image of fucking Lucifer before the fall, the morning star riding on the wings of dawn, Darren had mused fondly, utterly mesmerized by his lover's grace and beauty, and his heart had swelled with pride and affection.
Compared to the rank and file crowding the streets in mini skirts or jeans the overall effect had been stunning, mildly put. So stunning that more than one of the passengers had stood rooted on the spot gaping and the enthralled shop assistant, a pretty, blond boy in his early twenties at most, had literally drooled all over the place and stuck to Gerald's side like glue, completely cutting Mitchell dead in the process. Witnessing the painted juvenile's mating dance had been fairly amusing at first, but slowly but surely the unveiled display of hormonal overkill had been getting a tad enervating, and after his discreet hints had fallen on deaf ears an incensed Darren had actually stooped low enough to try pulling his lover back to the streets by his sleeve, but to no avail. An elegant eyebrow rising in unveiled amusement and the corners of his mouth turning upwards with his trademark sardonic half-smile the adept had ignored Darren's ire and had wandered off to inspect the shelves stacked with vibrators, dildos, anal beads and lubricants, not to mention the disturbing collection of shackles and whips, like a child in a candy shop, the salivating shop assistant inevitably following in his wake and doubtlessly daydreaming about testing the usage of his range of items in the field with kind assistance of his alluring customer.
Just over my dead body, you son of a bitch, the young physician had fumed inwardly, at the end of his tether. By now he would have wagered a year's salary on the annoying assumption that his lover had read his mind without bothering to ask for his consent and had been very well aware from the beginning that Darren had intended to play a hoax on him, and remaining true to his unflappable, confident self Tarrant had lost no time in turning the tables, much to the young physician's dismay.
"Allow me to draw your attention to our best selling Double P Spot Pleasurer 'Naughty Boy', honey", the shop assistant swaggered with a suggestive smile, and Darren almost gagged with loathing while his stomach was turning unpleasant somersaults. "Fabricated from medical grade silicone it possesses a powerful push button vibrating bullet allowing dual action prostate gland and perineum stimulation, and those exhilarating little nubs won't fail to send shivers of arousal through your body. This toy rocks the world! Care to try it out in one of our cabins? We've got some pretty hot porn movies running, and if you aren't familiar with using a sex toy I could be of assistance. Of course our trial product is sterilized after each use and has to be used with a condom, so you don't have to worry about catching a bug, honey."
"What do you think, Mitchell? Shall I be a naughty boy myself and try out this little buzzing beast for the sake of thorough research? With such a charming and competent guide at my side you won't have to worry for my well-being." Gerald's face had been utterly composed and his voice so dispassionate and cool that one could have assumed he had been talking about the weather or the stock exchange quotation instead of contemplating whether to shove a black vibrator up where the sun didn't shine in one of the grimy cabins of a sex shop, but with the mind link pretty much intact despite half a millennium of disuse because of Gerald acting the Sleeping Beauty and Darren's soul wandering through the ages the waves of mirth radiating from his lover had been almost palpable, and his face burning with embarrassment and barely suppressed wrath Mitchell had instantly decided that he had had enough of that shit. "In fact right now I couldn't care less what you do, Gerald. Enjoy yourself, and when you get bored of your new, doubtlessly fascinating toys you know where to find me. See you later."
Livid with Tarrant Darren had stalked out of the accursed place of his humiliation and had headed for his local, the Coach and Horses, dead set on preserving of as much of his dignity as humanly possible under the given circumstances. He hadn't told Gerald yet, but today was his thirty-first birthday, and Pete and Mike O'Shea who had finally caught his bunch of forgers and was still riding high on the waves of success were certainly already sitting on hot coals, waiting for the arrival of the birthday boy and his mate.
Three hours and several pints of stout later not even a golden hair of his unfaithful lover was showing far and wide, and a tipsy Darren was simmering with rage and cursing himself three times a fool for putting his trust into Gerald's love and loyalty. 'Darren is mine' the adept had stated with irrevocable finality on that noteworthy evening two months ago, almost scaring the shit out of his friend Anderson with his barely veiled threats and his open display of possessiveness in the process, but unfortunately Tarrant had never bothered to inform him whether he felt obliged to grant Mitchell the exclusive rights on his favours as well. There was no denying that Anderson had been right when he had mentioned at the camp fire that his utterly enchanted pal was seeing everything through rose-coloured glasses albeit knowing next to nothing about the former Hunter's private life and his habits, and very possibly Gerald had always been a promiscuous man in his human existence, capitalizing on his outstanding looks and fluttering from one flower by the wayside to another like a beautiful but very elusive butterfly. Imagining his lover clinging to that blonde son of a bitch and urging him on with the very same wanton words the adept was wont to moan in his own attentive ears in the throes of passion Darren's eyes filled with tears of helpless wrath, and his knuckles went white around his glass.
On top of his misfortune Mitchell's old buddies were behaving rather strangely as well, and when he had told them of his mishap they had just snickered and exchanged meaningful glances and winks instead of reassuring him that Tarrant was the most disloyal bastard on Earth and Erna and he certainly deserved something better. Cut to the quick the young physician paid his bill, bid his grinning friends a curt farewell and hit the road home on unsteady feet.
When he approached the tenement which had provided his home for the last years Mitchell was already able to see from the outside that no lamp was burning in either of the rooms, and his heart sank with disappointment. Up to now a foolish part of himself had still been cherishing the illusion that the aloof and rather non-gregarious adept had shunned the merry crowd at the Coach and Horses and had headed straight home instead, but now he finally had to face the bitter truth that Gerald Tarrant was presumably spending the night in the warm bed and even warmer embrace of his new conquest. His eyesight blurring with tears of helpless frustration anew Darren unlocked his door and made a beeline for his bedroom, praying silently that he was sufficiently pissed to find refuge from his dark thoughts in Morpheus' welcoming arms.
Expecting an empty bedchamber the young physician very nearly succumbed to a heart attack when on entering the room he was welcomed with a dazzling flash of red light emitting from coloured bulbs Darren had never seen before and a deafening blast of music which turned out to be a popular soul version of 'Happy Birthday', but what truly pulled the rug out from under his feet was the sight of Gerald Tarrant gracefully reclining on the bed dressed in a brand-new pair of studded black leather trousers and a matching biker jacket, surrounded by a formidable collection of the accursed toys which had put their relationship under enormous stress that very afternoon. Almost keeling over with naked relief though still torn by somewhat conflicting emotions Darren blinked dazedly, for once at the loss of words.
"What's wrong with you, Mitchell? You look as though you've seen a ghost", the Prince of Darkness turned Hell's Angel inquired innocently, and Mitchell felt sorely tempted to wipe that sweet smile off the delicate, pale face. "Don't you like my birthday surprise?"
"A fine surprise you've given me today, Gerald. Witnessing you flirting like the devil with that cocky little whore indeed came as a stunner, not to mention that you made me the laughing stock of my friends and ruined my fucking birthday party. Thank you very much."
"Don't you worry about loosing your face with your friends, Mitchell. Who do think informed me that it's your birthday today? The Patriarch? Your friends were in the secret all the time, and I'm greatly pleased that they played their parts well."
For a while Darren goggled at his smirking lover in utter confusion, but when he remembered the snickering and meaningful glances of his unfaithful pals a light dawned on him at long last. "God damn those fucking devious bastards! Just wait until I get my hands around their mischievous throats! They'll regret the day when they were born! I'm such a fool, Gerald. I really thought you were… you would…"
"Would what? Indulge in a lustful romp with that half-witted child? Seriously, Mitchell, I would have considered you a smarter man" Gerald replied haughtily with a contemptuous snort, but despite the stinging rebuke Darren knew the adept and his peculiarities well enough by now to feel absolutely confident that deep down in his heart Tarrant was downright delighted at his lover's jealousy. "When the horny bastard started to fondle my buttocks I deemed it proper to make myself abundantly clear that I wasn't keen on his offered assistance. Maybe you should have a bit more confidence in me next time, eh?"
"But he's alright, isn't he?" Darren blurted out agitatedly, cold sweat breaking out on his brow. "I mean, you didn't, well, do anything you might regret later?"
"Something like chopping his head off for his insolence? Not very likely. He wasn't worth the trouble, Mitchell, and so I was content with putting the fear of God into him and removing myself from his irritating presence after I had bought you those splendid birthday presents. But before we forget all about our little misunderstanding and pass on to more pleasurable activities let me inform you that those very special leather pants can be unbuttoned at strategically important places", Gerald added with a smile so seductive that the young physician forgot how to breathe and his jeans felt a tad tighter all at once. "Care to give it a try?"
Darren still hadn't quite gotten over the fact that the three men meaning the world to him in one way or the other had closed ranks and played a prank on him, but gazing at Tarrant lounging lasciviously on the silken sheets he instantly made up his mind that pernickety discussions concerning friendship and the conduct between lovers could be postponed until a more appropriate moment. Right now he was panting for trying out their new toys on Gerald, determined to take revenge on his lover in his own way until the adept saw stars and begged for mercy. Grinning wickedly Darren joined his lover on the bed and reached for the handcuffs.