[Siren Classic ManLove: Erotic Alternative Fantasy Romance, M/M, elves, HEA]
Though Jason Rampling is glad that his brother Mark has found love with Dorian Fairchild, he longs for a boyfriend of his own. One day, an accident in the woods propels him into a strangely anachronistic world where he is cared for by Graylin Stonetamer, a mysterious young man who studies magic and seems to know quite a bit about Jason, Mark, and their family history. Something about him even reminds Jason of Dorian, though he can’t quite explain what.
While he searches for a way home, Jason finds himself falling for Graylin, who eagerly returns his passion. Yet as the two grow closer, Jason begins to suspect that Graylin is keeping a secret that may make it impossible for them to build a life together.
A Siren Erotic Romance
“Look,” Wyl Silverhand said with a smirk. He pointed past a clump of fragrant honeysuckle. “Your human is back.”
Graylin looked up from the delicate agrimony tendrils he’d been sorting through. Though he tried not to show any reaction that would give Wyl fodder for teasing, Graylin felt his heart stall in his chest. Sure enough, the human they’d spotted for three days in a row had returned, walking in and around the tangled vegetation that twisted and bloomed on the opposite side of the stream. In the past, he’d carried a book or a map with him, and the two of them had watched while he surveyed the land and made markings on the paper. He seemed about their own age, in human years at least. The contrast presence of writing materials suggested that he might be a student, like them. Yet what lessons could he learn from walking in the forest?
The human remained oblivious to their presence, of course, which made it easier for Graylin to stare. He never tired of gazing at the human’s well-defined cheekbones, the midnight-black hair he wore short, unlike the men in their own community did, and the graceful limbs he kept encased in long sleeves and coarse blue leggings. Graylin had noticed the way those same leggings gave way to the seat of his breeches, too, the strange material worn and faded so that it seemed to melt around his lean hips and other, more private areas of his body. He hoped Wyl hadn’t caught him staring at such things, but he doubted he could be so lucky. Wyl noticed everything.
Today, the human was walking around pushing an odd, stick-like, metal object in front of him. As he slid it over the ground, his face took on a faraway expression, as though he were dreaming. Two strange cylindrical objects covered his ears. Graylin had never seen a display quite so odd.
“What is he doing?” he asked Wyl, standing and moving closer to the stream to get a better look. “What is he carrying with him? Is that an aye-Pod?” He pronounced the unfamiliar word slowly and carefully.
Wyl laughed. Graylin noticed that his collection bag lay empty at his feet. Master Freme would be angry about that. “Don’t be daft. iPods are no bigger than the palm of your hand. That’s the point. They’re easy for the humans to carry.”
“How do you know so much of iPods?” Graylin asked with a scowl. Such gadgets were unknown among his people. They had none of the strange substance, which he heard others call electricity, to run them with, anyhow.
“I know because I have seen them. The last time I sneaked into the human village, I even pinched one and tried it out. It sent a terrible cacophony between my ears. But after a moment or two, I liked it. The Hall of Learning would be a much better place if everyone had them.”
“Master Freme would never allow that.” Such talk unnerved Graylin, though Wyl never shied from discussing forbidden things and planning mischief. “You ought to stop sneaking into the village, you know. If he finds out, he will forbid us altogether from leaving the Hall without him.”
Wyl’s cheeks reddened. “Master Freme does not need to hear of everything I do. And how would he, anyway, unless someone tells him?”
“He won’t know, I guess,” Graylin said, lowering his gaze back to the agrimony.
“Good.” Wyl brightened. “You wouldn’t want him to ban me. Because you can come with me next time.”
“I don’t know.” Graylin fidgeted, uncomfortable with the idea of walking freely among humans, perhaps pretending to be one of them. Their ways were so strange, from everything he’d heard. Some of them possessed violent tempers, virtually unknown among the elven. Yet their world also contained many wonders, he was sure—among them the male who had captured his attention.
In fact, that very human had now paused at a particular spot only a few yards from the stream, running his strange device over and over a certain clump of weeds.
“What is he doing?” Graylin asked.
Wyl thought for a moment before answering. “I suspect he’s reading the earth. Humans don’t have magic, of course, so they must use many odd devices. No doubt some sort of sound is coming out of those bits on his ears.” He shook his head. “Pitiable fools, aren’t they? They cannot make their gold—they must hunt along the ground for it, like swine searching for truffles.”
“That is a rather unkind remark,” Graylin retorted. His face grew hot. “They cannot help who and what they are.”
“Indeed not,” Wyl agreed, though his smirk never wavered. “We are prisoners to our names as well as our natures. You and I are proof of that, Stonetamer.”
Graylin sighed. The truth Wyl spoke of weighed heavily on his mind each day, and more so now that Inspection Day was fast approaching. The two of them would represent many generations of Silverhands and Stonetamers in front of the entire Hall of Learning, and as yet they had little or nothing to show for their illustrious heritage.
“I suppose we are,” he admitted.
Together they watched the human lean his device against his thigh, take a tiny book from his breeches pocket, and jot something down. Presently he wandered off into the overgrown forest. Before long, he had disappeared from view.
A sudden clapping sound startled them both from their reverie. They turned at the same time to find that Mynogan Freme had come up behind them and whipped his hands together for the express purpose of startling them.
“You two gentlemen have overstepped your bounds,” he snapped, his regal face taut with impatience. He spoke with genteel moderation, as he always did, but Graylin suspected he longed to shout at them or perhaps even shake them. “May I inquire why? I specifically ordered you not to approach the stream.”
“We had no choice,” Wyl argued. “The best flora grows in this spot and no other. Can you not smell the wild mint? ’Tis the water that strengthens the stalks.” Turning his head slightly, he offered Graylin a discreet wink. Luckily, Master Freme did not seem to notice the bawdy wordplay.
“We didn’t breach the barrier,” Graylin said.
“See that you do not.”
Graylin pursed his lips in thought, and it was all Jason could do not to raise himself and kiss the ruddy little bud they formed. “I must admit that your theory may have merit.”
“I know it does,” Jason said. “I always find that when I can’t concentrate on something, or I feel stressed out, letting off some…uh…steam really helps, if you catch my meaning. I can’t tell you how many times I had to go that route when exam time rolled around at Cambridge.” He grinned. “You know how it goes with theories—you have to try them out to be sure.”
Jason slid his hand forward until his fingers closed around Graylin’s own stirring cock. He heard Graylin’s breathing grow shallow with tension and felt his thigh muscles constrict with need.
“That’s magic, too,” Jason said. “A different kind.” Graylin didn’t object as he untied the laces at the front of his trousers and reached inside. Jason was gratified, though a little unnerved, to discover that his cock felt exactly the way it had in the dreams, right down to the rubbery foreskin that drew back from the mushroom-shaped tip. He stroked his fingers up and down the shaft, delighting in the way the plump veins rose under his touch. “Don’t you think?”
“’Tis wondrous,” Graylin agreed breathlessly. “I can see why Master Freme would warn us of the potential for peril. Surely anything so pleasurable must be dangerous, too.”
“I guess that’s true. I think the biggest danger, though, is of losing your heart to someone who doesn’t appreciate it.”
“Has that happened to you?”
“No...but then again I’ve never tried. Maybe I’m not as brave as I think I am.”
Graylin’s eyes moistened anew. “I think you are brave. You are also beautiful, Jason.”
“I’m not.” This time Jason blushed.
“Yes, you are.” Graylin paused, shifting his hips to make his cock move in Jason’s hand. “Jason…have you ever actually done this before?”
“No… I mean, only in dreams. But you know about those already. I guess it’s safe to assume you haven’t, either.”
“Indeed I have not.” Graylin scowled. “What should we do? If we know so little of the actual mechanics, I mean. I doubt the Book of Knowledge could offer us much assistance.”
“I can just about guarantee that it wouldn’t. I suppose we could follow the dreams as best we remember them. I mean, it would be as good place as any to start.” Jason propped his head on his free hand, keeping the other tucked into Graylin’s breeches. “I guess the first thing we should do is take off our clothes.”
“All right. That sounds eminently practical.” Extracting himself from Jason’s grip with obvious reluctance, Graylin stood and shyly started undoing his tunic.
Jason got up as well and joined in undressing him. “Let me help. And you can give me a hand, too.” He winked.
Graylin nodded and began tugging down Jason’s breeches as well. Secretly, Jason was relieved and grateful for the assistance. Even though he’d had them on less than twenty minutes, these old-fashioned clothes did not come off as easily as polo shirts and designer jeans.
Finally, the task was accomplished and the two stood beside each other, as nude as they had been in the dream. It was even better, though. Jason didn’t think he’d ever seen anything quite as beautiful and perfect as Graylin’s body. His skin was smooth, his body nearly hairless except for a tiny golden patch of flaxen curls around his still-swelling cock. Comparatively, Jason felt like a caveman, though he sported no more than a dusting of hair on his chest and a scruff of charcoal-colored pubes. Graylin didn’t seem to mind at all, though. Instead, he seemed fascinated.
“You can touch me if you want,” Jason suggested. Nervously, Graylin started stroking his body, starting with the fine hairs around his nipples. Before long, he had skimmed his way down and was touching Jason’s cock. Apparently the heat rising from Jason’s groin, or perhaps the rawness of his circumcised shaft, startled Graylin. He started to pull away, but Jason guided his hand back into position. “Don’t be afraid. You won’t hurt me. Do it just like in the dream. Remember?”
“I do.” Graylin swallowed. He tightened his fingers, encircling the rigid cylinder of flesh. Jason did the same to him. Soon they were tugging and caressing each other, this time without the interference of the water flowing around them. Jason even used his thumb to polish the radish-red tip poking out over Graylin’s foreskin.
“Maybe we should get back on the bed,” Jason suggested. As they clambered onto the mattress, Jason reached out and guided Graylin into a kneeling position. Crouching in front of him, Jason slowly lowered his mouth to Graylin’s cock.