By the Chains that Bind Thee (Part 11) by Fantasy Weaver

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This is definitely a hurt-comfort chapter, so grab that box of tissues if you need it. After this part, we have one more part and this series is officially over. It's been a while coming. The final part will be more of a conclusion to everything Shay and Eleos have been through and wrapping up of loose ends.

Part eleven of "By the Chains that Bind Thee". Please read the previous parts for context.

-Fantasy Weaver.


Note

1: Some foul language ahead

2: Some adult content ahead

By the Chains that Bind Thee

Part Eleven

XXXXX

For a long while, neither of them moved.

In the silence that followed, only heavy, labored breaths offered any sign of life, coming from Shay’s slumped form, perched precariously on top of Eleos, whose own chest was rising and falling rapidly.

All light sources had gone out. The radiant, burning fire that had enveloped his form during possession had vanished. Nothing but the heavy, oppressive shadows now remained, coiling, slithering along their bodies, swallowing sound. Swallowing them.

They couldn’t see a thing but each other.

Shay, riding out the last of his world-altering climax, bowed his head, palms flat against the ground to hold himself up. The muscles in his body spasmed, shaking, skin soaked in sweat. His abused hole clenched around the still glass.

A bead of moisture rolled off his shorn head, dripping from his nose, landing silently on Eleos’ chest.

The sapphire of Shay’s eyes had turned to muted grey. Colorless. Devoid of any influence. And they stared down at Eleos, wide and unfocused.

That is until, Shay registered the blackness of the other’s own eyes. The liquid darkness dripping from them.

Swallowing hard, the young mage rasped, "Eleos, are you alr-"

He never finished; Eleos threw himself on him, uncaring of the seed slicking their chests and stomachs, simultaneously rearranging them too fast for Shay to comprehend, until he was cradled in a crushing, trembling embrace that nearly cracked his spine. Eleos was breathing harshly, sniffing loudly, holding the young man hard enough like he was afraid that, if he didn’t, he would lose him. Eleos’ heavy hand on Shay’s nape, keeping his face in the crook of the Dark Mage’s neck, was foreign on his scalp. The arm wound around his back, a clamp he could do nothing to escape from.

A wounded sound, unlike anything Shay had heard before, escaped Eleos’ mouth, and like a catalyst, it caused the young man to break down, to burying himself further in the other’s shoulder, hiding inside his curtain of raven hair as it swayed around them. He wept. Together, alone in the blinding darkness, with nothing to see or feel or hold on to but each other, they fell apart.

When Eleos rubbed his hand on his head, his shorn, naked head, he sobbed. It was gone. It was over. Nothing was left but uneven stubble that dragged beneath the other’s fingertips.

Eleos held him for a long time, never once letting him go. His breathing remained that wheezing, breathless rhythm, not ever calming or subsiding, even long after Shay had regained some measure of composure. The young mage tried to move, to relieve the pressure on his knees from kneeling on the cavern’s marble flooring, but the task was impossible. Eleos would not allow him even the tiniest of movements.

He whimpered, hands pushing against the immovable wall of his lover’s chest.

That’s when he noticed it.

The terrible, pounding beat of Eleos’ heart.

Hard. Fast. Panicked.

Everything, from the moment they entered the sacred spring, flooded his mind. The love they had showed, the firsts Shay had shared with the demi-god, every fleeting glance and small gesture, from chaste kisses to his own, worshipping mouth savoring Eleos’ manhood, the man’s hands in his hair…hair that now lay around them, turning to ash, disappearing before his very eyes. Everything they had gone through together, even before this, before Shay had been privy to the brainwashing of his psyche…

That unstable organ spoke of it all: how close Eleos had come to loosing Shay.

"Eleos, I," he started, hating how scratchy it came out, "I’m not comfortable, I need you to-"

"No."

The denial came quick, heavily loaded with fear and vulnerability.

Shay struggled in the vice-like grip on him, voice straining, "I just need to adjust-"

Wordlessly, Eleos moved him in his arms, never allowing his hands to leave Shay’s body. So, there he was, sitting in the seat of Eleos’ folded legs, his own thin limbs around the man’s waist, crossed behind his lower back, while the Dark Mage held him still against his chest.

Shay’s chin rested on his shoulder now, where some of Eleos’ black hair was stuck between them. Every inhale shook the chilled body beneath Shay’s hands, sending a deep hurt incomparable to any pain he might have felt during the shearing of his former mane.

He struggled harder, needing to see Eleos. "Eleos, please, I’m alright, just let me look at-"

Arms tightened further around him. "No. No. Don’t, just stay."

The heaviness in that usually smooth, confident voice broke his heart all over again, and this time, Shay forced every ounce he strength he had left into his limbs and pushed back against the embrace. "Eleos! I want to see you…"

His words drifted off, as the Dark Mage’s features finally came into view.

He hadn’t been able to make out the details so clearly before. The heartbreaking sight before him might have made him sob all over again. Those golden eyes, that had been such a beautiful shade of shimmering silver during this whole ordeal, were now gone. His iris, even his sclera, it was a sea of black, wet with those thick, tar-like tears that flowed without reprieve down Eleos’ pale features, staining, streaking his porcelain skin with angry black marks. Shay examined his own body, where the substance had fell, and saw his own tanned skin staining from whatever was dripping from Eleos’ eyes.

The expression the man was making, this anguished, grief-stricken emotion that marred his handsome features, stared back at Shay. This couldn’t be the man that had stolen his heart.

"…" Eleos opened his mouth, closed it, shook his head, and became still. His hand, quaking along Shay’s scalp, rubbed his head with utmost cautiousness.

Shay bit his lip, sniveling at the gesture. "It’s okay. I’m here."

The words must have done something to the Dark Mage, snapped some sense back to him, as his heavy breaths slowed.

He averted his darkened eyes.

Shay, shaken up, was about to make Eleos look at him again, but the man lifted them in one swift move, so suddenly that Shay yelped. "Eleos, what-"

"The spring" the other said in a rush. All at once, the exhaustion caught up to both of them, with Eleos nearly crumbling to his knees, almost sending them flying back to the ground with a hiss and strained grunt. "M-my magic, the spring…"

His nonsensical words finally made sense. Shay clutched harder at the body beneath his, ignoring the clenching hands on his backside that held him up. How could Eleos see anything in the darkness? He had no idea where they were in the cavern, where the spring would be, nor even where they had come from. And yet, Eleos, with great difficulty, somehow managed to steer them towards the pool, where, as they got close, the faint glow of the waters broke through the darkness. Just barely. There couldn’t have been more than one foot of vision around them before everything was swallowed up in the shadows.

He thought of the liquid black eyes. Was that some other kind of magic he had summoned? One only he could control, he could see into?

Shay said nothing, unable to find words to calm Eleos like he so often had during his torment previously. All he could do, was let the man stumble into the pool with him, where the water, once pleasantly cool, was now ice-cold. He gasped at the biting sensation, complaining, "It’s cold, Eleos, please-"

But the still-trembling man clutched him to his chest and floated back-first on the water with him, not allowing him to escape the water’s icy embrace. "Allow me a m-moment…"

A moment for what? But it was as the words came to him that the young mage felt a change around them. Eleos, beneath him, was taking deep, even breaths. Those dark pearls in place of his eyes hid behind his lowered lids. Around them, his dark hair, mingling with the shadows, rendered the water as dark as everything else. Shay’s skin, his bare scalp, prickled unpleasantly at the cold, but soon, the temperature began to warm.

Eventually, the spring glowed brightly, every little ripple lapping gently against their skin with a familiar sensation: arcane recovery.

Shay’s own breath came out slowly, a drawn-out sigh as he let himself melt into Eleos’ strong arms. The shaking ceased, that beating heart slowed and the blinding darkness dissipated, creeping languidly back into the cracks of the caverns, snaking along the surface of the water like smoke, and the blackened streaks on their bodies were cleansed away.

In each other’s arms, they let themselves float atop the surface of the pool, even as it dimmed around them, and the calm serenity of the flowers, the illusory night sky, and the glowing yellow pollen returned.

How long they stayed suspended in the water, Shay could only guess.

Everything caught up to him. He had…he had almost…

Eleos had almost…

He swallowed thickly, eyes taking in the handsome mage’s closed ones apprehensively. "Are you alright?"

It was a moment before Eleos answered him, in a drained whisper, but it wasn’t what he needed to hear, "…We need to shave you still."

He might have sobbed. And yet, he was too tired to do so, and instead pleaded with his lover, "Please, I want to know that you’re alri-"

"We’re getting out." And, once more, Eleos never let him finish his phrase.

The Dark Mage must have regained quite a bit of his strength, as he lifted himself and Shay easily this time. Water rolled off their bodies in rivulets, Eleos’ soaked mane sticking to his back and shoulders. Shay glanced up at the man’s face from where he was cradled in his arms, noticing that his eyes had returned to their natural golden hue, but they were haunted, heavy bags indicative of his mental state.

Shay lifted a hesitant hand to the other’s distressed features, but Eleos avoided his touch.

He cringed, his hand falling away as tears stung his eyes. "You don’t need to…"

He didn’t know what he wanted to say, just that he wanted to have the Eleos from before back. Not this…frightened shell of the man he knew.

The chair that had been the site of Shay’s shearing was nothing but still-smoldering ash now, so Eleos simply sat him by the pool’s ledge, so achingly similar to how the handsome mage had placed him when he had washed his hair and had him enjoying every moment of it. Now, those feelings of love, adoration, reverence and desire were nothing but a memory. Only a disquieting caution, and avoidant gazes were left.

He hated this.

"Eleos please look at me."

Water dripped and pooled beneath Eleos’ feet, where he stood to Shay’s left, towering over him. Shay peered up from his position, unable to see the man’s face from behind his curtain of soaking raven hair.

Eleos walked away, towards the remnants of the marble table. In the struggle with Synn, it had toppled over, tools and jewelry spilled all over the silver and gold-streaked flooring. Shay watched him with increased agitation, saw him pick up the scattered tools; a small engraved bowl, the shaving brush, a golden razor, towels…

"Don’t close yourself off like this, I’m begging you."

He saw those pale shoulders tense. Eleos turned around, lips scowling, nostrils flared as he took deep breaths and avoided Shay’s desperate eyes.

The man was beside him, placing the tools on the ground beside the pool. He went back, searching for the rest.

Shay tried to lift himself from the marble ledge, but his body was still too weak, even with a soak in the spring. Instinctually, he wanted to call upon his magic to make Eleos turn his way…

But a terrible silence met his mind.

Rising panic and despair clawed at his throat. Eleos came back with yet more things: a jar with white soap, a glass vial of golden liquid, another closed jar with a moon and stars engraved in the lid. When he deposited the last jar, Shay’s hand snapped to his wrist, closing like an iron band around it. "Eleos, STOP!"

The other only flinched at his hurt voice.

He went on, wanting to get through to him, "Why won’t you speak to me?"

"…" The man swallowed; his other hand not held by Shay traced a heat circle on the ground. "Just stay still while I shave the stubble off."

Shay’s hand loosened long enough for the Dark Mage to tug his wrist out. Shay opened his mouth, but closed it when Eleos’ draped a hand over his crown and forced his head forward. He sputtered, eyes drifting closed against his will. This feeling-

No! He would be heard.

Eleos was behind him now, upending the vial of oil unceremoniously and shakily over his shorn head, and every sensation, as new and disconcerting as they were, were not welcome now. Not while Eleos was acting this withdrawn.

And when the Dark Mage rubbed his head quickly and abruptly, without the gentle, kind manner he had show throughout this ordeal, that was when Shay had had enough.

He twisted his body around, doing the first thing that came to mind.

A resounding clap broke the tense silence.

Pants rushed quickly from Shay’s mouth, and as the haze of anger and grief lifted from his eyes, he realized what he had done.

Eleos’ face was angled away from him, a dumbstruck expression marring his features, golden eyes wide and surprised.

On his pale cheek, was the reddening outline of Shay’s palm.

‘F*** this’ he fumed internally, tears streaming down his face as he glared at Eleos. He let it all out. "For heaven’s sake, Eleos, why won’t you LISTEN to me!?"

Eleos lifted a hand to his smarting cheek. His eyes were drawn to the floor, and he said nothing.

"Look at me!" He did, golden irises guarded. "What I just went through, what WE just went through," he vented, "was horrible. It was terrifying and I was so afraid of what would happen if-" he couldn’t even say the words, how terrible it would have been if either of them had perished. "Eleos, I don’t want you closing up like this, not now, when I need you the most! You’ve always been the one to hold me up when things got too much to bear, but now…I’m here," he said, hands cupping Eleos’ jaw tenderly, "I’m here for you. I’m still here, I’m not gone. It’s me. It’s over. If you’re afraid that I see you as anything less now, after seeing you like that…" he referenced his lover’s darkened eyes and terrible power, "I’m not. I don’t care, I just want you back. You don’t need to bottle everything up like this, I don’t want you to! Please just TALK to me, Eleos, please…"

The words finally seemed to get through to him, as those golden eyes shimmered with tears.

"Please…" Shay managed, his forehead colliding with Eleos’. "I don’t want this final sacrifice of mine to be done like this. If you’re going to shave me," he whispered brokenly, "Do it with as much love as you’ve shown to me up to this point. I know that’s what you would have wanted. It’s what I WANT. So just," he urged Eleos’ hands to hold his nape, to spread his palms on his stubbly scalp…

"Let it out."

He expected a cry, a wail, a shout, something of the sort. But not this.

Not a kiss that stole his breath away. Not a tender embrace. Not reverent hands paying worship to every curve and hard plane of his body, not palms sliding up his head, smearing oil without care down his neck, down his back, while every emotion, every hurt feeling pooled in their mouths while they lost themselves to reconciling love.

Eleos broke them apart for air. His lids were pinched tightly over his wet eyes. "I thought I had lost you."

Every fear, everything he could not say, those six words encompassed all of them. Shay sighed, heart reaching out to this man, this demi-god whom he did not deserve. "I wasn’t going to let that bastard take me from you again."

A smile, weak and watery and not at all the usual confident smirk the man so often wore, broke out over the handsome mage’s lips. "You’re so strong…" his words drifted, unfinished.

He gave his lover a rueful chuckle. "I wouldn’t have been able to get through this without you."

The words made Eleos kiss him on top of his head, with all the tenderness in the world. Shay shivered against his will. For the first time since he had ejected Synn from his body, Shay truly let sensation take over; his head, still littered with stubble, had a sensitivity to it not unlike that he had possessed before. Admittedly, he had been afraid that with the loss of his hair, so too would he lose the pleasure that it provided. Though now, with Eleos resting his lips there, hands caressing his scruffy scalp, the fear left him.

At long, the Dark Mage gave an uneven sigh. "Shay, I know it’s been a long and arduous night," and at the words, Shay’s mind caught up to the fact that it was nightfall. How did Eleos know that when they had not yet come out of these underground caverns? "But…I can’t let you out. Not yet."

Shay trembled. "I don’t feel my magic anymore. Surely, I-"

"No," Eleos denied, hard golden irises pinning him in place. "Nothing left, Shay. Nothing," he emphasized. "I don’t want that monster to have anything left, even this," he passed his hand over the blonde stubble.

More than just as a precaution, this seemed like something Eleos needed for his own peace of mind. The young mage, as tired and drained as he was, could understand that. He could see in his lover’s face how much this mattered, how this last sacred act needed to be done for both of them.

So, reluctantly, but with a deep, loving ache in his chest, Shay lowered his head in silent acquiescence.

"Turn around," Eleos said.

With feet dangling in the water, Shay returned to his original position, allowing the other’s hands to venture more freely over his bared head. Where just a minute ago Eleos had been rushing through the process, now he sedately massaged the oil into his sensitive scalp.

Shay would not deny that the deliberate attention to his head had him biting his lips, but…

He couldn’t find the energy to enjoy it as much now.

So caught was he in his own dark musings that when Eleos placed a hot, wet towel on his head, Shay startled. It was only with a gentle reassurance from the handsome mage that he settled. When had Eleos warmed the towel? And where? On the heat circle? He couldn’t even follow what was going on. All his mind could focus on were the numerous events that had occurred to him in the last…how long had it been again? A week? So many things had happened.

That first blissful night with Eleos, his own body being possessed by Synn, watching as Eleos got captured, being imprisoned himself, Oras’ true nature as a Mage of Stars being revealed to him, his initi-

His eyes went blank.

In the luminous pool, he became aware of his face staring back at him. Of the towel where his hair should be. Of the lifeless greyness of his irises.

"…Eleos?"

The man had been pressing his hands to the towel. "Yes?"

Voicing his concerns became considerably harder the longer he gazed down into his rippling features. "When you…before you shaved your hair, what color was it?"

Eleos’ hands left his head, settled heavily on his shoulders. "Blonde. Like yours."

‘Like it used to be’ he thought bitterly, his reflection mirroring his saddened scowl. His next question came out, quiet in the still air, "Will my hair…will it turn black like yours?" A memory from the SunWoven Order’s library, of that book on Circles of Dark Magic, sprung up from the corners of his mind. He knew now not to trust the information in those scriptures, but other than Oras, he hadn’t seen any other of the Mages of Stars. Did they all have black hair? Oras still has his sandy locks after all.

Shay’s ears picked up on a sound to his left. The Dark Mage warmed water in a bowl, aided by the heat circle. His hands were busy with that soft shaving brush, and the jar with the soap. Eleos glanced his way briefly, lips pursing. "It’s hard to say. Do you not remember your natural hair color? Not even your eyes?"

He thought about it, drawing up a blank. "No. I don’t."

Eleos wet the shaving brush and vigorously swirled the bristles on the soap. It was a moment before he said, "I wish I could tell you how your hair will grow back, or what color your eyes truly are. But I can’t…" Their eyes met, and Shay’s lips flattened, disappointed, scared even.

As the other removed the towel, Shay tried to recall his early memories in the Order, but it was such a long time ago. Most childhood memories are like that, he supposed. Hazy recollections, devoid of any precise details. Most. Not all. He could still remember some things, traumatic and fun alike, but not this. It frightened him, not knowing what he would look like, if he might find another person in the mirror in a few weeks, when his hair would start to grow back.

A breath lodged in his throat when Eleos began applying shaving cream to his head. He wished he could enjoy this, as he had every other aspect of the shave up until…up until his possession. But the moment had soured, turned tense, even now that the Dark Mage’s mind was no longer under the influence of high emotion. And as careful, gentle, as Eleos is at the moment, Shay’s mind was elsewhere.

He wanted to enjoy it, to concentrate on the lapping of that soft brush over his nude scalp.

The reflection in the water blurred.

"Shay?"

He quickly wiped his eyes before his lover could notice the tears. After all his crying, where his eyes not dry by now? "What?"

"I…" Eleos hesitated, hand slowing momentarily, lather spilling from the brush, down the young mage’s nape. "Is the arcane glass still inside you?"

Shay’s brows furrowed. That’s right, there it was, still lodged firmly within his anus. He had forgotten about it for the last few minutes. Or perhaps his insides had just gotten used to the fullness. Either way, the young man nodded.

Eleos began swirling the brush anew. "Do you want to-"

"Yes." Shay breathed, body shaking. Whatever pleasure Eleos thought the glass could bring him, he wanted. He needed it. He needed the distraction from his darker musings, from the very real and all too recent memory of his own hand inching close to the Dark Mage’s mane with that clipper. Synn had nearly…

His sudden response gave the other pause, but only for a second. The man’s left hand came to caress Shay’s tense shoulders, squeezing tightly. "Close your eyes."

He did, and soon, the familiar vibrations made themselves known. He sighed appreciatively, tension leaving his body as he let himself just…feel. No more thinking. No more reminders of the fear of death, no more crying, none of that. Only sensation, only sweet, blissful silence in his mind. Only the soft sound of lather on his head, only the sensation of warm foam covering every last hair follicle that still clung to his scalp. Only the rumbling deep inside that warmed his cold body and chased away the pain, washed away the tainted magic from his system.

Eleos put the brush aside, hands gently holding Shay’s shoulders beneath him. They rose and fell with every breath. He mimicked his little apprentice, finding himself wanting to be just as calm. Before, his mind had been wrought with terrible visions and emotions he did not wish to relive. Shay’s slap had been a necessity, to snap him out of that frightening state he so seldom let himself fall into.

Finding himself recentered at last, Eleos let himself kiss Shay’s upper back, just bellow where the lather began at his neck. "I’m going to shave against the grain, so it may be a bit uncomfortable." For Shay, and for him. Shaving against the grain is a lot more tedious, but for his own peace of mind, he wanted this to be the closest shave he could get.

Besides, Shay’s arcane focus is now dead. Whatever stubble is left can’t store any magic, or cause his young lover any more harm.

The young mage kept his eyes closed. His ears heard the sound of Eleos picking up the gilded blade that would rid him of the remnants of his hair, catching on the quiet metallic noise it made against the floor. He knew that now there wasn’t any need to be nervous, as there would not be any pain or alarming signals, but anxiety still ate away at him-

The vibrations. He just had to focus on the pleasure. That’s all.

Eleos’ fingers on his forehead startled him, and soon, the thin edge of that razor shaved a straight path down the center of his head, from his hairline all the way to his crown. This was…new. Different. Unlike anything Shay had ever felt before. He didn’t even have facial hair to compare a mundane shaving ritual to.

Small strokes, delicate and barely felt, slid along his sensitive skin. The noise it made, a harsh scraping from being pulled against the grain, reverberated inside his skull. The Dark Mage pulled his skin, brought the razor to the left of that first shaved strip, and repeated the motion. Shay shuddered to think what could have happened if he hadn’t gotten mad at Eleos before; his hands had been shaking so much. Would he have slipped? Damaged his skin with his trembling hands, wielding the blade?

He breathed, slow and steady. ‘Stop thinking, stop thinking…’ the words repeated to himself.

Eleos wiped the foam from the blade on the edge of a towel on the ground. He shaved another strip, and another, and another, denuding the top of Shay’s head with every passing stroke. The young man understood now what the other meant; getting shaved like this certainly felt a bit uncomfortable. It was like his hair was being pulled, just a tad, with every swipe of the razor.

And Eleos…gods, meticulous wouldn’t even begin to describe how thorough he was being. Shay shivered as the man slid his fingertips over his nude scalp, how they searched for even the tiniest of hints of stubble. He found some, passed the razor over it, inspected again, and again. The arcane glass vibrated more acutely with every passing second, as though Eleos’ obsessive behavior reflected on it. The young man swallowed, his cheeks heating. Yes, that’s it, surrender to it.

"Tilt your head this way," Eleos urged him, the hand atop his head pulling him to the left.

Now Eleos passed the razor behind his ear, up from his neck to connect with the bald circle atop his head. A full body shiver coursed through him, causing his breath to labor briefly. "Oh, gods please be careful" he pleaded with his lover.

"Just stay still. It needs to be close..." Another swipe upwards, skin pulling taut, hair being lost, cut down to the scalp.

The vibration continued, harder, more intensely, and Eleos rid him of the stubble in front of his ear and at his temple. Shay’s dormant organ twitched at last, stimulated into awakening once more. Instinct, and a need to keep his mind away from anything other than what was happening in the moment, urged the young mage to touch himself. There was no way he would climax again. No chance. But even if only to feel close to that peak, he wrapped his trembling hand around his shaft, just as Eleos cleared the entire right side of his head.

A methodical inspection came, just as it had with his crown, and every time Eleos touched his scalp, Shay whimpered. He was starting to feel it now, how soft his scalp was, even if only through sensation alone. His hand furiously pumped his aching manhood, and his teeth bit down on his lower lip.

Pushing Shay’s head to the right now, the handsome mage adjusted his position to better shave the lather-covered left side of his lover’s skull. He was calmer now, focused on the shave, on the ritualistic aspect. As terrible as everything had been, this final act was exactly as it should be; precise, gentle, and pleasurable. Unrushed. Very much unlike how he had started, when he couldn’t even look at Shay, when his entire being, down to his soul, had shaken with his panic. No, now he was calmer, though no less scrupulous.

"Ah…" the young mage’s moans were low and soft, speaking of how terribly tired he was, and of how wonderful these new sensations felt. Eleos repeated the tantalizingly slow pull of his gilded blade, watching as the muscles in Shay’s neck tensed and relaxed under the action.

"We’re almost done, you’re almost done…" he whispered, fingers sliding against Shay’s impeccably smooth skin.

Long minutes of silence stretched between them, with only the scrapping of the razor to break it, and the fleshy smack of Shay relieving his pent-up need. He tried not to move too much, especially when Eleos shushed him when a louder moan ripped from his throat (caused by the upwards scrape of the blade along his nape).

Whimpers passed through his lips, his eyes were pinched shut tightly, so much so he saw stars. Eleos was standing in front of him now, slightly to his right. His shaved head bent forward, neck stretching for the Dark Mage, for his ministrations. Every feeling became almost too much to bear. Even so, Shay could not muster the physical strength to ejaculate anymore. All he could do, was allow himself to get lost to the touches, to the rhythmic shaving.

There was barely anything left; a few strips of lather for the razor to pass through, enveloping his nape. Shay’s head bent forward more at Eleos’ urging, resting against a strong thigh, so close he could almost nuzzle his face against the Dark Mage’s limp manhood.

Those long fingers were at his skin again, pulling, stretching for the kiss of the golden blade. The scraping seemed to reverberate loudly in his head, drowning out all other thoughts than those of reverence for Eleos and his divine hands, for the pleasure he gave him, for the love he could feel in them. How gently he held him…

He clenched his jaw, muscles spasming as the razor scraped against the stubble. His skin broke out into goosebumps, his fist over his cock went harder. Don’t think.

"Good man…" Eleos breathed, two words that made Shay moan out his appreciation.

Another swipe. Shay smacked his left hand over his panting mouth.

Golden eyes stared down at that last strip of white lather on his lover’s neck. This was it. The last of it. He wanted it gone. He wouldn’t leave anything to Synn. Nothing. Not even stubble. And that white band of foam was a mockery in itself. It taunted him. It made him want to do terrible, horrible things to Synn. It made him want to turn FERAL.

But he’s not. And for Shay, he did not want to be. Turning to such ancient, powerful and devastating magic before…it was necessary, to a certain degree, but he didn’t like what it turned him into when he did use it.

He wiped the razor. With a steady hand, he brought it to the smooth column of his lover’s neck-

And pulled up wards, shaving away the last bits of those chains that bound Shay to Synn.

Shay’s breath hitched. He clamped his hand harder around his mouth. Eleos shaved his neck completely, went over with a few more passes to make sure everything was gone, but as he did, the young mage became aware of an odd sensation. He wasn’t…ejaculating. But the sensation of a climax built up and released anyway. He was shaking and groaning behind his hand even as Eleos wiped his head with a cold, wet towel, and the arcane glass’ vibration ceased within him.

"Shay, are you alright?"

His hand had stilled on his manhood, Shay realized, but his body was in overdrive. He tried to talk, but all he could do was gaze up at those golden irises and pant.

Eleos looked down, saw his twitching organ, and gave him a half smile.

Right before wrapping his hand around him and pumping him for all he was worth.

"F***! Eleos, oh gods, it’s sensitive!"

So sensitive in fact that he recoiled from the touch, even if part of him wanted the pleasure to continue.

"Shay, relax, let me…" The handsome mage wrapped his left arm around Shay’s waist and made for him to lay down on the cool marble. He pushed them up, until Eleos was sitting with his legs crossed beneath Shay’s own, splayed to either side of the Dark Mage’s waist. "Just ride out the sensation, alright?"

Shay slapped his hands over his eyes, panting harshly with every upwards stroke Eleos made on his overly-stimulated cock. "Mhm…"

Soon though, the intensity died down, bit by bit, as though in time to the slowing of the other’s hand. His heart rate followed, and eventually, Shay breathed a sigh of relief. After a moment, through Eleos’ releasing words, the arcane glass dissipated, leaving the young mage to clench around the emptiness it left behind. Eleos stroked his thighs now.

Shay blearily opened his eyes, and let his arms fall to either side of him. He stared up at the starry, illusory night sky. For the first time, his bare scalp could feel the coolness of the floor beneath him, was not held in a halo of golden hair that splayed around his form. He could feel everything on his scalp; every fluctuation in temperature, ever shift in the air, every fleeting touch.

And all at once, he became tired. This whole night, this whole week, even if he had been unconscious for most of it, caught up to him.

He became aware of Eleos moving. The man stretched himself along his length to press himself close to Shay’s side, held his right hand in his own. Shay’s eyes found his. Eleos looked just as spent as he felt. His hair was still damp, sticking to his body and it probably needed a good brushing. But he was still just as handsome as ever.

Shay’s left hand came, with a mind of its own, to touch his newly-shaved scalp. Smooth. More than smooth. Self-consciously, he averted his eyes. "Does it look bad?"

Eleos scowled. His own right hand ventured from their interlocked digits to tilt Shay’s head up, urged his eyes to meet his own.

He pinned with a hard, loving glare. "You look beautiful, no matter how long, or short, your hair is."

Shay managed a sad smile. "Well, mine is shaved so-"

Eleos kissed him, did not even let him finish that phrase. By the time he broke them apart for air, Shay was slightly out of breath. Eleos tightened his fingers on his lover’s chin. "Shut up, little apprentice."

He did. Gladly. He wouldn’t want to talk when Eleos is kissing him anyway.

He barely noticed when, perhaps finally too exhausted, he succumbed to fatigue in Eleos’ arms.

He knew he had a long journey still ahead of him, and his sleep reminded him of that with nightmares for the months that would follow his rejection of Synn.

Eleos stared down at Shay’s unconscious form as he lifted him in his arms, and prayed to Musuni that she might give him the strength required to overcome the hardships of loosing his arcane focus.

XXXXX

One part left. Constructive criticism is appreciated.

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