don't leave me

by psychemenace

The first time they met, Ferid was a runaway slave and Guren is a church boy training to become a monk. When they were reunited again, Guren was already a respectable Priest and Ferid a suicidal escapee whose only desire in his God forsaken life was to have a taste of the monk's sweet kiss and to be loved like a human being. Implied abuse.

"Love is so short, forgetting is so long."

Guren stopped reading the poem. That very line upon escaping his trembling lips left a bitter after taste in his tongue and an ache in his chest. That was his favorite line. Because indeed, love was always short, forgetting was always long and it took a question from a child just to make him realise it.

"Father have you ever been in love?"

It was such an innocent question, but intensely covered with something that Guren could not shake off. At the moment the last syllable was said, he was brought back to the past. And he couldn't help but ask himself the question: "why was it difficult to forget?"

As long as he's alive he would carry the burden of the intensity of his feelings, as long as the thought of him still possess him, he would never be able to free himself from the shackles of an unreturned love. And so he closes the book, puts it back on the shelf and goes to bed.

The nights had always seemed long to him, the days, much faster. And in times when he couldn't sleep and the thought of him oppresses him, he recites the lines of Neruda's poem in his head as a reminder.

What does it matter that my love could not keep her. The night is starry and she is not with me.

Flashes of memories will stream through his mind's eye as he close his eyes. He would remember the nights when he would wake up to his warmth, when he would open his eyes and see him pressed against his chest. Those nights when wakes up to his lavender scent. Those nights when he would smell his silver hair and in which he pulls him closer for a chaste embrace. Ferid would settle down and listen to the rhythm of their hearts beating in sync.

This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance. My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

Guren remembers how Ferid often traces "Guren" on his muscular chest, exposed and streaked with sweat whenever he falls asleep before him compensating for his inability to speak. He knows how his eyes would linger on his countenance. He knows how Ferid would often study his face as if embedding every line, every curve and contour of his face into his mind's eye. Then, he who would stop pretending to be asleep. He would open his eyes and smile at him, his eyes still heavy from sleep. He will write his name on Ferid's silky smooth arm in fine script.

F-E-R-I-D

The curlicues were always so pronounced that it would tickle Ferid. It would make him shrug his shoulders and scoot away from him. But he'll press him to him and whisper 'Ferid' into his ears. Ferid will shiver and will cling to him embarrassed like a child. His ears would be so red that Guren would want to kiss the redness away but he will hold himself back. Always.

"Ferid" he will say instead. He will feel Ferid shift in bed, he will feel him burn against him, curl up, clench his beautiful feet against the bed sheets and tighten his grip against his night gown. Ferid will look him in the eye, bat his long matted silver lashes and touch his face.

Ferid will mouth his name. "G-U-R-E-N" as he trails his candlestick fingers on Guren's cheek and will smile brightly, like how he always does when he prances in the garden hugging big baskets full of roses, his hair in a nice braid, braided by the Nuns who adored him so much.

My sight tries to find her as though to bring her closer. My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.

And even when he sleeps he could never escape from his memory. The only thing he would always dream of was the first time he laid his eyes upon him.

He looked heavenly, ethereal at that time. He didn't look human at all. Guren could never forget how he lay there on the grass at the back of the church, covered in foliage. His long tresses of silver hair flowing down to his shoulders looked so tragically beautiful that it made Guren unable to look away as panels of sunlight dappled on him like lime light. He walked towards him, and carried him.

He was light in his arms, extremely light that it didn't feel as if he was carrying anyone at all. Ferid was unconscious and he had bruises all over his legs and arms. He had a scar on his throat. He was still, the lack of movement made him look like a statue. He looked like the ivory sculptures inside the church. His silver lashes fringed from his beautiful eyelids. They were long and matted, and curled in a way that will take every man's breath away. His exposed legs, skinny and long had just the right amount of muscle and fat. His ankles were beautiful, so very beautiful that Guren wanted to kiss it the first time he saw him ascending the stairs in his usual gait, his ankles exposed.

He was wearing a sheer tunic the first time they met. This, he remembers all too clearly. The leather belt that was wrapped around his waist emphasized how thin it was. The clothing was cut just above his calves that when Guren carried him in his arms, the fabric was pulled to his chest, making it shorter, exposing Ferid's creamy succulent thighs.

Guren remembers how he couldn't help but stare at how voluptuous Ferid was. He couldn't believe how a person can exude such an erotic charm even as he lay asleep in his arms. He was so very pretty that even his church boy self that wanted to become a monk cannot help but feel an ache in his loins as he held him.

Ferid's parted mouth, moist, and the sheen of its wetness made him want to kiss it, bite it, but he endured. Guren endured. His exposed shoulders were wide, manly and lithe. It made Guren want to trace his fingers on its smoothness down to the tips of his candlestick fingers, nails painted the color of his eyes. It gave him shortness of breath holding him like that while he felt a rumble of emotions within him.

It was the first time Guren felt like that towards someone. He has offered himself to God, and was convinced he would never be tarnished by a thing so vile as the desires of the flesh until this. So this was the effect of seeing a creature whose beauty is as blinding as an angel's. It made one feel reverence, of intense adoration and desire towards this being. The emotions were insurmountable that when he tended to him, he was gripped by a desire so intense that he was forced to extricate himself and leave the job to Nuns at the parish. He was afraid of breaking his vows that he needed to withdraw. But he couldn't forget about what he saw. The way the Ferid furrowed his thin brows, the way his face contorted as the nuns wiped him clean, sweat sluicing down his ivory skin was so embedded in his memory that until now, he couldn't forget it.

His craned neck, the column of his exposed throat made Guren swallow hard. His breaths, and the way his sheer tunic exposed the swell of his body just barely on the cusp of adulthood, the curve of his chest muscles, the shape and coloration of his areola and his pink nipples underneath the thin fabric made Guren sin. He wanted to lay with him and he was ashamed of it.

He remembered the fuss of the priests and nuns alike when Ferid woke up. They were perplexed for he was unable to speak. But they all thought there was something done to him for him to be like that. His scar says it all. He was still beautiful, gorgeous even despite that. The light in his light blue steel eyes was magnetic and the blush that suffused his pale cheeks when he was pleased haunted Guren.

Whenever he remembers his smiling face, he would be overwhelmed with adoration and love. And sometimes, he believes that for someone like him to be harbouring such feelings for a person wasn't sinful at all. Because he loved him without any preconditions, he adored him so very much. Such kind of love can't be wrong right? It shouldn't be.

But that had become moot now, for Ferid was gone and Guren is left with nothing but nights of longing like this and Neruda's poem that reflects how much he misses him.

"She will be another's. As she was before my kisses. Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes." the phrase escapes Guren's mouth in a soliloquy. He sighs. He puts off the lamp on his bedside table, covers himself with the blanket and sleeps.

When he was about to drift into deep slumber, he heard a quivering sound coming from his window. He turned and got out of bed to check. The light of the moon was bright, it streamed through his room. It dappled on the woodladen floor of his chamber like a lighthouse to the dark waters of the ocean. The curtains were flailing, dancing to the rhythm of the wind. There was a shadow behind it, he couldn't see him clearly because he was covered with something he can't make out, but when the figure took it off, he was surprised at what he saw. It was Ferid. His image underneath the beams the moonlight made was ethereal. He couldn't believe what he saw. It felt like a dream.

How many years had it been now since they last saw each other? How many days and nights had he been dreaming of this reunion after Ferid was taken away from him?

"Ferid?" Guren's voice quivered. He took a hesitant step towards the figure.

Ferid smiled at him. There was a gleam in his light steel blue eyes, a gleam that Guren didn't understand even if he wanted to. Was it love? Was it desire? Ferid gazed down for a second and then ran towards him. He embraced him so tightly as if compensating for the years that they had been apart. Now he was a respectable Monk, far from the church boy he once was. Guren returned the embrace. He hugged him tightly as he stroked his hair.

"Why have you returned? I missed you so much."

He felt him shiver in his arms, he felt him tighten his hold. Ferid withdraw and gazed into his eyes. There was something that was somber as he smiled that playful coquettish smile.

"What's wrong?"

Ferid stared at him and then pushed him down on the bed.

"Ferid?"

Ferid placed a finger on Guren's mouth to stop him from speaking. The other narrowed his eyes, there was a playful glint to his steely blue eyes. It made Guren swallow a lump on his throat. He had always been weak to those eyes, he had always been weak to Ferid's charm and so, because he was unguarded, Ferid bound his arms.

"Ferid, please. I... nnff.."

Guren wasn't able to finish what he was supposed to say. Ferid kissed him. He kissed him torridly, pushing his tongue inside his mouth as he cupped his face. There was desperation in his actions, as if this was truly goodbye.

He straddled the monk and undulated against him. Guren only stared at him, surprised. He stared at the other's flustered face. He was dumbfounded at how he was trembling so much as he was touching him, as if regretting the things that he was doing.

Guren responded to his kiss. His body acted on its own. To be able to do these things to the object of his affection made his resolve loose. Ferid kissed his neck and then he pushed the monk's night gown up to his chest so that he could lick his flesh. He kissed his chest, he licked Guren's nipples, turning and twisting it using his tongue. He bit it, and then applied wet suctions as he pressed the tip of his tongue on to the slit of Guren's nipples. Guren felt weird, something like that hadn't been done to him before and it was making him feel disgusted.

Ferid tasted honey on Guren's tongue, he tasted the ocean in his flesh and it was unlike any other.

"Stop it, stop this Ferid."

Ferid didn't stop. He planted wet kisses on Guren's chest down to his navel. Guren was starting to feel turned on. Ferid must have noticed how hot he has become because he smiled.

Guren lolled his head to the side. He felt weak. His mind was in a tumult. What was happening was in contrast to how he sees Ferid. The Ferid in his eyes was innocent not this lascivious wanton person that was riding him. He couldn't believe his eyes, but there was no denying this was his Ferid. The innocence in his eyes was in contrast to his actions. But he could see, that this was the same person he fell in love with.

Ferid's bony shoulders were exposed, he was still wearing the same kind of clothing he wore the first time they met. The cut was the same, it was perfect, emphasising the contours of his frame. It was also sheer like the first time he saw him, exposing the swell of his body.

Ferid unbuckled his trousers.

"Ferid!"

Guren begged him to stop. But still the other didn't listen.

Ferid took off Guren's pants, exposing his twitching member. Ferid blushed and licked his lips. It was clear in his eyes that he desperately wanted to take that thing into his mouth. And so there was no surprise when he held Guren's pulsating cock in his hand and brought the head closer to his face so that he could kiss its tip. He then wrapped the head with his tongue, licked it in a circular motion and then slowly applied wet succession on its length.

The flicks of his tongue blasted in the monk's ears and it was making him weaker and weaker by the minute. He felt being slowly drained. The pleasure that Ferid's mouth was giving him was ineffable. Ferid knew what he was doing, he knew how to please a partner and there was no denying that this wasn't the first time he has done such a thing to someone. But this all escaped Guren. He didn't wonder why Ferid was this skilful in giving fellatio, he was slowly being consumed by pleasure and it was making him unable to think.

Ferid licked him thoroughly. In the process Guren was becoming harder by the minute. Ferid loved it, he loved the reaction that he was getting. It turned him on so much that he was shivering.

Guren felt Ferid's hard member against him, he saw his erection underneath the sheer clothing. It looked so wanton and dirty. But who ever said sex was clean? The true nature of concupiscence was that it was messy and dirty.

Ferid withdrew to check whether Guren was ready to be taken into his mouth. Guren's member was now dripping with precum. Ferid liked the sticky fluid that was frothing out of Guren's large dick. The girth of his meaty organ was how he liked it, average, perfect for its length. He licked his lips and then took him into his mouth. First it was just a few centimeters from the fold of the skin, he sucked him thoroughly and wrapped his tongue on the length and then took him deeper into his mouth, slowly. When he reached the middle of Guren's dick, that's when he started bobbing his head up and down Guren's length, sucking him in a way that the puff of his cheeks turn hallow. He licked him while he sucked, placing his tongue at the back of Guren's member.

He took him out of his mouth and then kissed Guren's shaft. The kiss was crisp and soft. After that, he licked the turgid muscle, feeling its swell, tasting the salty taste of its sensitive wrinkled skin. He smelt the sourness of his organ, the strong unpleasant scent of the genitals of the men that he has done it with was reminiscent, but Guren's was different. Because while it was somehow the same, there was a tiny difference. His scent turned him on. The fluid that his body was producing was hot, he tasted its flavor. It was sticky in his tongue, thick, viscous but he swallowed all of it.

At this, his own organ was twitching. Precum was already oozing out of his urethra and it was drenching his tunic. The circular wetness it formed in the fabric looked so dirty, so wanton. The fabric crenulated. His erect member tugged its thinness and it made Guren feel emotions he has never felt before. He didn't know how to explain nor describe it. But all he did know was he wanted to lay with Ferid.

Guren's breath was shallow, bated. Sometimes he didn't breath at all, he just exercised force on his body fighting the mindblowing pleasure Ferid was giving him. He was sweating profusely and couldn't help but wince whenever he feels chills ran down his spine from the skill of Ferid's mouth. Its warmth was nice, it felt so good inside that he ultimately succumbed to the pleasure. His body acted on its own, he thrust his hips to add to the friction. Ferid who was now rock hard felt his gaping hole tighten at Guren's response.

Guren liked the feel of Ferid's soft lips on his organ, he liked the fact that he could feel the warmth and the wetness of the other's mouth mix together. He couldn't explain the pleasure that it gave him. Words wouldn't be enough.

He started wanting his hands to be freed so that he could grab Ferid's head and force him to take all his rock hard cock deep into his mouth. He clenched his fists. The desire to fuck Ferid's mouth with abandon was strong to the point that he fantasised about chocking him with it.

Ferid liked it slow though, he wanted to keep on teasing him. He wanted to throughly please him. This was his gift, this was the only thing he could ever offer him, or so he thought.

He was so skilful. The licking and the sucking, everything about it was so precise. The timing and everything was perfect. Guren was completely under his control. He really knows when to make another step. He knows what Guren wants. He knows how they usually want it. He sucked Guren's member like a vacuum and then slowly took him deep into his mouth.

Ferid's breaths were shallow and he was so flustered, so turned on at having Guren deep inside his mouth. He relaxed his throat muscles to keep his gag reflexes at bay. He slowly took him deeper and deeper until Guren's cock bumped the back of his throat. Ferid's mouth felt so full, his jaw was also strained, but he liked it. He moaned and sucked and licked with abandon. He swallowed Guren's cum to the last drop, as if wasting it was a sin. Saliva sluiced down the corner of his mouth. He was so flustered, so intoxicated at the rush he was feeling. This was how sex should be. This was how it should be and not the pain and suffering he was always made to go through in the hands of the people whom he didn't love. Those people whom he was only forced to do things like this. He bobbed his head up and down, putting in some wet suctions and licks in the process.

Ferid has never enjoyed pleasuring someone that much. He parted his legs, and arched back. He used his free hand and slipped it side his clothes so that he could play with his perked up nipples. This was the first time he touched himself. This was the first time he ever felt compelled to touch himself. In the past it was always his master or his subordinates that does this things to him, all he does was to receive, to accept everything they give him. It was as if he didn't even have a will of his own, just a mere tool to quench their sexual drives nothing more nothing less. But now, because he was sure he would be free from them once and for all, that didn't matter. He wanted this. He had been dreaming of this day ever since he was taken away.

He trembled so much. He was moaning and rubbing his erect member. He liked the friction. He liked how it felt so good. His thrusts and Guren's movements were in sync. They were in harmony. He shivered because of the pleasure. He has never felt like this before and it was making him tear up. His gaping hope tightened at the thought of Guren inside him. He wanted Guren inside of him now. Having him inside his mouth was not enough. And so he withdrew, leaving slithers of saliva on Guren's member.

Guren felt the warmth fading, he felt him withdraw but he still thrusted his hips. If his hands were unbound, he wouldn't let him withdraw.

Ferid was trembling all over, his eyes were in a daze. He crawled towards Guren and kissed his chest. There was no need to prepare his hole, because it was already gapping, it was already ready for him. He sat on Guren's rock hard scepter and slowly went down to accommodate its length. He felt the warmth of Guren's cum, the warmth of Guren's organ against his hole. It made him shiver with pleasure.

Ferid was one who wants to be thrusted into. He doesn't like it slow, he wants it given to him directly and so he sits completely taking all of Guren's dick inside of him. His mouth was gapping, tongue tucked out, slithers of saliva were visible inside his indecent mouth. He moves against Guren's length while rubbing himself. The squelching sounds wafted in the air, and it was turning both of them even more.

The view was erotic that Guren felt like he was being smothered. He wanted to rip Ferid's clothes and do him with abandon.

"Ferid. unhand me." He heaved.

Ferid shook his head.

"Please, I want to touch you. Unhand me."

Ferid swallowed a lump in his throat and obeyed. He was so consumed with lust that his calculative mind wasn't as sharp as usual. He unbound Guren. When the bind was loose enough, Guren ripped off Ferid's clothes surprising the other. He pulled him in for a kiss. He completely ravished Ferid's mouth. He was already at his limit. He wanted to fuck Ferid. He wanted to fuck him so hard.

Ferid still undulated against his length while they kiss. Guren too was moving his hips in desperation. Ferid was no longer able to rub himself and so Guren grabbed his member, squeezed it and started kneading the organ. Ferid's girth wasn't that bad. He was large in his hand, and feeling it, feeling its soft skin, turned him on. He didn't really expect sodomy would feel this good. Or was it just because his partner was Ferid?

He pushed Ferid down on the bed. He was still full of him and it hurt when he fell down. Now, Guren was no longer a monk, he was reduced to a normal human being wanting to be one with someone. His vows of celibacy were forgotten. He grabbed Ferid's legs, spread it and pushed it so that it would be easier for him to thrust in Ferid with abandon. His movements were making the bed creak. He kissed him once again, He sucked on Ferid's now passive mouth mottled with bruises from his kisses and bites. He cupped his chin emphasising the hollow of Ferid's cheeks. He inserted his tongue, tilted his head and kissed him in such a way that it looked like he was devouring his mouth. He would change the position of his head from time to time just to give him the satisfaction he thought he needed.

He did not stop moving against him. There was aggression in his thrusts. The force in his grip was strong and it left red marks on Ferid's sensitive skin. But Ferid didn't mind. This deed cleansed all the repulsion he felt. It cleansed him, his soul, his heart. Laying with Guren felt like heaven and it was a heaven that he had been wishing for for so long now. He raked his fingers on Guren's muscular arms as if such gesture would make Guren understand how important this was to him. As if the force that he was using would compensate for the words that he wouldn't be able to ever tell him.

"I love you."

Guren stole the words right out of his mouth and it made him cry. Ferid sobbed silently, tears ran down his red face. Guren kissed the pearl of tears that streamed from his eyes. He kept declaring his love for him as if saying it once was not enough to make him understand how much he loved him.

guren.. guren.. guren.. Feridkept on saying inside his mind.

The thrusts were now much faster. Guren was about to cum, Ferid knew. He took his dick out as he was nearing his climax. Ferid's hole felt empty, he wanted Guren to stay inside him like that. Guren came, splattering his cum on Ferid's stomach. Ferid came too a few seconds late spurting all that vicious fluid on his chest and on the bed.

Both were heaving. Guren slumped on Ferid. Ferid smiled and held him tight. When Guren was about to roll off of him. Ferid took Guren's hands in his and kissed his palm. He guided them to his neck. Then he mouthed the words:

"K—I—L-L M-E".

kill?

Guren was confused.

"P—L-E-A-S-E"

Ferid knew Guren would never hurt him and so he withdraws from his embrace and kisses him for the last time. He wished for him to take his life because there was no other person he could ever trust to take it, not even himself. He wanted to die by his most beloved's person's hand. But he knew Guren wouldn't be able to take it and so he walks away from him still dirty from the sex, cum sluicing down his thighs. Guren stops him, clutching the tip of his tunic to stop him from going.

"Don't leave me." The monk pleaded.

"Don't leave me please."

don't leave me. Ferid always wanted someone to tell him that. But he had to leave. He didn't want to trouble Guren even more. He knew that his master would do everything in his power if he finds out about his affair with Guren. He didn't want Guren to suffer the same things he went through. He wiped his tears, looked over his shoulder and smiled a heart wrenching smile. He embraced Guren one last time, tracing the letters of his name on his back, as he had always done. While they held each other, there was a cry in the distance, Guren heard footsteps coming to his room and unconsciously he withdrew from him. When Guren turned around Ferid was no longer there.

A few months after Guren retired from being a priest, he was indicted of the crime of moral depravity and was sentenced to death. The churchgoers along with the other priests and nuns protested, they opined for his innocence but all were in vain. Guren didn't struggle, in fact in the end, he even confessed to the crime. What was life if he wouldn't spend it with Ferid? He would rather die, because nothing would change if he did struggle. Ferid's master was too powerful. He was so influential that it was a piece of cake to have Guren disposed of even if not through this vile act of imputing a crime to him.

Ferid's patron was so angry at his favorite's death, leaving no trace of his remains but the ashes left of the cabin that burned with him. Nothing could mitigate his wrath but Guren's demise and humiliation.

Guren gladly accepted it. In his last moments before his execution, the villagers clearly saw how serene he looked. When he was finally made to put his head on the lunette's circular hole that will hold his head, they saw how he craned his neck up to the sky and cried. But those tears were not tears for his predicament, they were tears of joy. When he was finally decapitated, when his head was raised. His face looked so serene and tranquil. That was not the look of a criminal. It was the look of someone who was finally laid down to rest.

Just seconds before the blade finally went through his flesh to decapitate him, the executioner clearly heard him say:

"Ferid."

In the utterance of that single word, the wind blew strongly. It cooed, howled in the distance. Now this was the end. Finally Guren's spirit can be together with Ferid's. Now they can finally compensate for the times they were deprived of each other.

In the distance two shadows walk hand in hand and faded into the deepest part of the woods.