Seth by Nero Seal

Three days had passed since the incident at the glass factory, and Gustavo’s obsession returned with renewed force. For the three days, the boy didn’t leave Seth’s side. They hadn’t kissed, didn’t have a single scene, and Ignaz seemed to have forgotten the path to Seth’s bedroom. Still, Gustavo couldn’t shake off the ugly feeling drifting through his chest every time Seth’s gaze followed the boy. The deep-seated yearning and adoration, so natural for the passionate youth, looked misplaced on the face of the cold-blooded murderer. It stirred dark feelings in the depth of Gustavo’s soul.

Many times, he closed his laptop only to open it the next moment. Many times, he turned to Hans’ embrace, but even there, he couldn’t escape the memories of Seth’s voice, their passionate fight, and the lonely expression on his pale face. It haunted him even now.

He glanced down at the beautiful man whose mouth moved up and down his cock. Hans’ cheeks hollowed with effort as his half-hooded eyes watched him from below. Young and gorgeous, Hans was everything he thought he needed, yet Gustavo had never looked at him the way Seth looked at Ignaz, as if in the whole world only he mattered.

What is it in this boy? What does he see in him to look at him like this? And they didn’t even have sex or kiss.

His gaze roamed over Hans’ face. The boy Seth brought home wasn’t even half as attractive as Hans. Ignaz’s skin carried ugly scars, and judging by his reputation, his body knew many men. Still, it didn’t seem to bother Seth.

Hans had never been with a man before Gustavo. Not a single mole, freckle, or pimple tainted his skin, and with his Roman profile, he could be a model for an antique statue of an ancient god, yet Gustavo had never looked at him as someone special. He’d always fulfilled his whims and demands, gave him money, and bought him things. He spoiled him in every way possible, but he’d never doubted that sooner or later, they would grow tired of each other, and Hans’ place in his bed would be taken by someone younger, more beautiful, fresh. Many things tied them together, but love wasn’t on that list.

Love…The way Seth looked at Ignaz resembled love. Gustavo barely remembered that feeling. Long ago, maturity erased the word love from his vocabulary, substituting it with friendship, passion, and adoration. For him, the complex emotion of love didn’t exist on its own but was a very frail combination of respect, trust, care, affection, passion, and friendship. For him, the person of his interest should not only awake all those feelings, but he should also have matching interests and values and share his sense of humor. Gustavo had never met a person who fit his high standards, so he’d stopped looking long ago.

They barely know each other. No, this can’t be love. With a stray finger, Gustavo brushed a golden lock away from Hans’ forehead when the realization hit him—he and Seth had much more in common than he originally thought. Just as Ignaz was nothing more than a trophy for Seth, Hans was just another piece of Gustavo’s collection. Still, the feeling that he was the only one lacking didn’t abate.

He gave his lover a once over. Hans was everything he loved in men. He had no reason to think of anyone else, Seth particularly. That would be irrational. No one in their right mind would want to have an affair with a mass murderer, or even just a one-night thing. Gustavo had never been irrational. Running a thumb over the corner of Hans’ mouth, he gathered a clear drop of saliva, brought it to his lips, and licked it clean. “Want to continue in bed?”

The phone chimed before Hans managed to reply. Catching the glare full of irritation, Gustavo shrugged and picked up. “Yes?”

“We are on the way. Will arrive within an hour.”

Gustavo’s heart leaped to his throat as he terminated the call. Glancing down at the kneeling man, he said, “We will continue later.”

Hans swallowed, pulled away, and wiped his wet mouth off on the back of his hand. “You aren’t going to walk out on me after I sucked you for twenty minutes straight, are you? My jaw is locking. You owe me.”

Gustavo got up, tucked his softening, wet cock into his pants, then zipped up. “I have urgent business. Don’t pout; I’ll make it up to you.”

Hans rose from his knees, chin flying high in defiance. “You’d better.”

* * *

The sunset washedthe sky in bloody red; its dying light leaked into the round hall. The dark wood of the walls, absorbing a pinkish hue, shimmered. Stomping of many feet and low orders rumbled through the air. Gustavo stood on the second floor. Resting his forearm against the banister, he watched four men tow a large, wooden crate into the hall.

When a dolly was kicked from under the crate and hauled away, Gustavo jogged downstairs. On his way, he shrugged off his jacket, wrenched a crowbar from the hands of one worker, and leveled with the crate. With one powerful move, he pried the top plank loose, then did the same again and again until the gap was so large that the sunset colored the marble inside.

CLANG.The crowbar hit the parquet; Gustavo leaned into the crate. Stretching out both hands, he closed his palms around the cold, smooth stone.

“Finally…” He whispered, and his lips curled up in a triumphant smile. He willed himself to step away then ordered, “Remove the crate. Put it on the pedestal. Now.”

Every sound diedas the last person shuffled out of his mansion. In the ringing silence, Gustavo could hear the rapid thrumming of his excited heart, his quiet breathing, and the ticking of the antique grandfather clock. Finally, he was alone in his hall.

He didn’t rush to his new acquisition. Pieces like this should be first admired from afar before he could enjoy tracing his fingertips over the smooth lines and fine details. Keeping his distance, he moved around the room as if by approaching this masterpiece, he could ruin the magic.

Standing on the pedestal, the sculpture was three feet tall and five feet three long. It represented a graceful young man lying on a rock. Head bowed, he admired his reflection as his hand caressed the water.

Lost in observation, Gustavo didn’t notice when the first star graced the sky. The night birds screamed in the wood, but apart from that, not a sound disturbed the silence. Taking his time, he made another round, shortening the distance with every step. His gaze roamed over the marble, devouring every line of the perfect body. The slender ankles, round buttocks, long arms with beautiful, gentle fingers could have belonged to the god of art and creation. A few flowers were tucked in the marble curls of the man’s hair.

Gustavo’s hand landed on the polished surface of the base. His fingertips inched and touched the marble nails. Heart skipping a beat, he fondled the digits, learning their shape and texture. His thumb brushed over the knuckles before his palm slid up the forearm.

Never before had he touched Narcissus, and the thought that, in a way, it resembled lovemaking washed Gustavo in heat.

Same eyes, same nose, same lips, Narcissus shared Seth’s face. Gustavo swallowed as his mouth watered. Driven by an impulse, he dragged the back of his finger up the marble neck, toward the jaw, before pressing his thumb to the closed lips. They remained unresponsive.

“Mine…” He crooned. One palm against the pedestal, he twisted to look into the unseeing, white eyes. The pull of attraction inched him closer, and before he knew it, he pressed his lips against Narcissus’ mouth. Cold and hard, they tasted just like Seth’s.

A bright flash brought his heels to the parquet; he twirled. “If you can grant all things, you gods, I wish as a bride to have one like my ivory girl.” Diego quoted The Metamorphoses by Ovid¹. “What are you, Pygmalion in the flesh? And I assume Seth is Galatea². Where does it leave Hans?”

Holding his phone in front of him, Diego stared at Gustavo with wide eyes and an incredulous grin. A grin like this could only be seen on the faces of kids who broke piñata and won all the candies.

“Your face is priceless.” Diego thumbed the screen, and another flash blinded Gustavo. Coming to his senses, Gustavo scowled. A warning roared out of his chest; he took a step toward his friend. “Erase now, or I’ll kill you.”

“I don’t think so. Next time I’m concerned about my kinks getting out of control, I’ll remember that you have an agalmatophilia³ and feel better.” Diego grunted, retreating a step. His fingers flew over the screen. “Anyway, it’s too late. It’s on my cloud now. If you kill me, there will be people searching my PC. Imagine what they think when they find such provocative photographs? It will go viral. Gustavo DeSilva, top dog of the S-Syndicate, is in love with a statue.”

“I should have killed you long ago, you half-baked paparazzi. Give me your phone, now!” Gustavo flexed his shoulders, taking a step forward. Diego recoiled and grabbed the statue with both hands, taking the opposite side to Gustavo.

“Stay away or I’ll break it!” His chin flew up. He rounded his eyes in an exaggerated, cartoonish expression of a madman. His gaze slid over the marble, returned to Gustavo, then back to the sculpture. False expression lost, Diego whispered, “My fucking god.” Playfulness abated; he ran his palm over the stone. “This is the original, isn’t it? But… How? Did you steal it?”

“No.” Gustavo snorted, giving the marble a loving look. His palm caressed the smooth hip of Narcissus before he faced his friend again. “How do you know it’s the original?”

“You can repeat the form, but you can’t change the marble’s pattern. Thanks to you, I’ve seen this sculpture so many times I know every inch of this stone better than I know the bodies of my lovers.”

Gustavo snorted, pride worming its way into his voice. “The copy isn’t much different. It’s the same marble, and the forger managed to etch the streaks. Only a professional could tell the difference.”

“But how? I thought the head of the museum asked for insane money for it. What was it, seventy million?”

Gustavo shrugged.

“Oh my god, you paid it.” Diego tore his hand away from the sculpture and gave it another look. His eyes shimmered with curiosity and amusement when he circled the piece of art. “You know, if I were a good friend, I would have said you lost your marbles and suggested you see a therapist. This obsession isn’t healthy. But I’m not, so I won’t. How much? Seventy million?”

“No, he agreed to fifty.”

“Fifty million?” Diego yelled, eyes blazing with righteous rage. “I changed my mind. Gustavo, you are sick. You need professional help. By the way, if I can self-recommend, I have a degree in psychology. I don’t charge much, and you can tell me everything. Your secrets are safe with me. I can even offer a special discount for an old friend.”

“Diego, having an online certificate in canine psychology doesn’t make you a psychologist.”

“Of course, it does. No one reads the fine print anymore.”

Gustavo shook his head, unable to hold back laughter. “Anyway, what the fuck are you doing here? I didn’t call you.”

“Nothing. I came to ask if you care to join me for the distribution, but I see you are too busy with fucking your new marble friend. So sorry I disturbed you. Please, proceed.”

Gustavo glanced at his watch, opting to ignore his friend. “Distribution? Isn’t it too early? I thought the new batch arrives tomorrow?”

“What do you want me to do? Send them away and ask them to come back tomorrow?” Diego shrugged. “They are already here.”

“You are unbearable today. And don’t think I forgot about the pictures. You will delete them. Now, let’s go.”

* * *

Just as Ignaz’s presencewrapped Seth in the blanket of his quiet aura, it calmed the dying god of his dreams. He had abandoned his search. Instead of walking the desert, he silently kneeled before the boy, watching him with his glowing, red eye as if trying to see something in the depth of his soul. The sandstorm around them weakened but didn’t die out. However, SkyBlade visible on the horizon stopped spewing ash.

Seth’s sclera regained its normal color; the bubbles on his palm flattened and hardened. He felt pressure every time he tried to use his hand, but with Ignaz by his side, he deliberately avoided doing anything. Watching Ignaz move around his place pleased his eye. Even if they didn’t talk much, Seth felt they were growing closer.

The scabs covering Ignaz’s back peeled off, and the welts lightened, turning pink. With the wounds healed, the need returned in his gaze.

At the end of the fourth day, he stood before the drafting table. Palm covering hand, Ignaz stopped Seth from shading the design. Seth lifted his face. He didn’t need to ask questions to recognize the familiar fervor.

Without a word, he put the pencil down.

* * *

Ignaz shivered asthe last piece of his clothing landed on the concrete floor of the basement. His toes lifted and curled. He looked around, then settled his haunted eyes on Seth. His pupils pushed the blue ring of his irises to the edges, and behind them, Seth read the maddening thirst.

“Can you really do it with only one hand? I’m not sure I’ll be able to walk after.”

“There’re many ways to hurt that don’t require blood, whip, or me using both hands.” Seth peeled off the bandage wrapped around his hand, then tossed it away.

With a lift of his chin, he pointed to a wooden pillory standing opposite the St. Andrew’s cross. Racks and workbenches lined the walls, boasting floggers and sex toys. The boy tilted his head and skirted around the pillory, fingers tracing the polished wood. He bent down and presented his neck and wrists for cuffing. Seth shook his head.

“No. In front of it. Back to the wood, feet wide.” Seth approached; their bodies leveled. Never looking away from Ignaz’s eyes, Seth knelt and wrapped soft strips around his ankles. Ignaz swallowed. His chest rose in a sharp inhale then dropped. A shiver ran down his limbs, and his stomach tensed.

Avoiding looking at Ignaz’s private parts, Seth got up. “Lean backward. Arms behind the pillory. Wrists in the loops.”

The small of Ignaz’s back pressed against the wooden boards, his back arched, and he looped his hands into the holes from behind. Their chests almost touched when Seth lifted and lowered the top bar of the pillory, fixing Ignaz’s wrists in place.

When he stepped back, his throat was dry and tight. A light nervousness unsettled his emotions as the decision formed in his chest. Today, no matter what, he wouldn’t let Ignaz sink into another reality. Today, he would chain his attention to himself and his actions.

He yanked the top drawer of the workbench out and extracted a lighter and a dozen thick wax play candles.

“Umm… It won’t be enough for me,” Ignaz said, voice wavering with uncertainty. “I told you, I need more than most…”

Seth wondered if he heard indulgence in Ignaz’s voice. “You wouldn’t know until you let me try. What are you afraid of?”

Giving the boy a reassuring smile, Seth pulled out a soft flogger and a long, slim knife. Ignaz’s head tilted, gaze brimming with doubt. A condescended smile invaded his face. “I’m not afraid, not of a flogger and some candles. You can’t scare me with those.”

“There’s always room for surprise,” Seth rustled, expression hardening. “Indulge me. I promise, I won’t stop until you are satisfied, even if you beg me.”

One by one, Seth lit up all the candles. While waiting for them to melt, he approached the wall and slapped the switch. The electric light went out; only trembling flames of candles dispersed the dark.

Grabbing a candle, Seth circled the pillory. His hand inched closer and traced a restrained arm, keeping the flame a mere inch away from Ignaz’s skin. He smiled as the boy straightened up, attention focusing on his hand. Washed in the firelight, Ignaz looked surreal, as if his skin had turned into fine, translucent glass, with veins streaming beneath the milky surface. Even the scars on his back glinted, resembling pink quartz peeking from inside the rock, adding to the texture. Red gold shimmered in his hair.

So pure.Seth lifted the candle a little higher, and the first drop of melted wax hit Ignaz’s skin.

Ignaz’s smile became broader but somehow sadder. He sighed and knitted his brows. “Lower, please?”

Seth obeyed. This time, the fallen drop made Ignaz give the candle another look. His expression became thoughtful as if he was processing the afterglow of the burn.

“Huh…” Ignaz’s teeth reflected fire as his lips parted. “It’s been forever since I tried it. It does feel good. Warm.” He sighed. “This is nice, Seth. I appreciate the romantic atmosphere, but this is not enough to take the edge off. Maybe a whip?”

Looking into the glinting eyes, Seth brought the candle to Ignaz’s chin. The boy flinched away from the heat.

“No whips. Tonight, I’ll kiss you with fire.” He tilted the candle, and a dribble of wax skidded down Ignaz’s collarbone, extracting a gasp. Ignaz’s breathing hastened. Seth nodded. “That’s it. Concentrate on me because if you lose attention, I’ll burn you.”

He tilted the candle again, and a large drop crashed against Ignaz’s nipple.

Ignaz flinched. “Seth, I’m not sure…”

“Don’t worry; you will love it. Now, arch for me and stop arguing,” Seth rustled. Hesitantly, Ignaz thrust his chest forward, and another splatter of red wax colored his skin.

“Beautiful.” Seth nodded. Splatters of wax resembled molten glass. He changed candles, then again and again. The boy stopped complaining. His eyes hooded as his pupils lazily followed Seth’s ministrations. His breathing became deep and relaxed as the scab of wax thickened over his flesh.

A part of Seth enjoyed seeing the boy melt under his touch. He wanted to see how much he could relax him, body and mind. Seth wished he could run his fingers over his chest, rub the oils into his skin, make him groan with pleasure as he worshiped him. He craved to learn every curve of his body with his hands and tongue. To engrave every inch of Ignaz into his memory

To sharpen Ignaz’s alertness and distract himself from unwanted thoughts, Seth brought the candle to the clean-shaven armpit, close enough for the yellow light to lick the skin. Ignaz jerked, eyes rounding.

Seth blew at the assaulted skin, wishing he could lick it instead. “Concentrate, or I’ll burn you.”

He tilted the candle, and another drop landed on Ignaz’s belly, right above the pubis. The blond head jerked, haunted gaze searching Seth’s face.

“It’s okay.” Seth made another circle around the pillory. On every circuit, he changed candles to splash more and more wax over Ignaz’s chest, belly, hips, thighs, and shoulders. He tried not to stare at the pink, soft curl of the cock, but his attention inevitably gravitated to it. The hooded head with the gentle foreskin almost begged for his tongue.

The moment of scattered attention caused a few stray drops to hit Ignaz’s cock, making the boy hiss. On instinct, Seth reached his hand to Ignaz’s stomach, but his fingers froze a fraction of an inch away from his skin. Ignaz tensed, eyes glistening with complex emotion.

Seth’s hand formed a fist. He drew away, unwilling to see the relief on Ignaz’s face. His legs moved again, drawing circle after circle. The red wax, thickening, beautifully contrasted with Ignaz’s pale skin.

On his way, Seth grabbed a knife from the workbench, then froze behind the boy. Bringing the steel to Ignaz’s jaw, he ran it down his throat, forcing a sharp backbend on the already tense spine. The blade reflecting the beating vein on the side of his throat.

“Seth...”

Seth smiled, sensing fear. Flattening the knife against the collarbone, he picked off the first crust. The submissive hissed, his nipples hardened, and a piece of wax, peeling off, fell to his feet. The edge of the knife danced against Ignaz’s skin, teasing, scraping, never hurting but chafing it, making it more sensitive.

When the edge of the knife outlined Ignaz’s ribs, as if counting them, the boy gasped and whipped his head toward Seth.

“I thought you couldn’t be scared easily?” Seth licked his lips, wanting to kiss Ignaz. With one precise movement, he drove the blade between the skin and another plaster of wax. Ignaz shivered. Goosebumps covering his skin, he shifted from foot to foot as if seeking a more comfortable position.

“I’m not.” The blade skidded over the stomach and plucked off a few more scabs, leaving pink mottled skin behind. To bring more attention to his actions, Seth pressed the flat of the blade against the reddened spot on Ignaz’s belly, right above the pubis, so the coolness of the metal would provide a sharp contrast to wax heat.

“Seth…” Ignaz let out a wobbly breath. Cheeks washed in deep pink, his head rolled back, lids shut.

“Relax,” Seth whispered into Ignaz’s hair, then inhaled the fresh scent of his skin, the knife slipping to the hip. “Concentrate on the blade. Feel it nibble your skin.”

As if shaving his leg, Seth ran the blade down the thigh, plucked off a large section of hardened wax. Taking up position on the boy’s side, he dropped to his knees. His hand moved up, and the blunt side of the knife nudged the sack. Ignaz’s stomach constricted, balls tightening. His cock elongated, the hood stretched back, but the length didn’t harden.

Fighting the desire to tease the tip with the blade, Seth quickly picked off the remaining wax, leaving only the drops on Ignaz’s cock untouched.

He got to his feet and approached the wall. A silver hose with a hand-triggered nozzle hung on a hook. He picked it up, grabbed a tin bucket that stood beneath it, and filled it with water, threw a clean towel in it, then carried everything to the pillory.

“Are you fine to keep going?”

Ignaz nodded, a glimpse of interest lurking behind his dilated pupils. Letting the boy squirm in anticipation, he returned to the workbench and grabbed a bottle with rubbing alcohol from the top shelf above it. The sharp smell spread through the room as he poured the content into the metal bowl then mixed it with water.

Ignaz swallowed hard. Alertness filled his eyes. “Seth? What are you doing?”

“Don’t worry. All you need to know is that I won’t hurt you as long as you only look at me,” Seth rustled.

A nervous laugh and a side glance at the shackles informed Seth that the right mindset had already been established. In this game, fear was more important than pain, and Ignaz had already shown the first signs of it.

“Okay, now you’re freaking me out.” Another nervous laugh preceded a weak attempt at escape. “What is it?”

Seth lifted a lighter, stroked the spark wheel, and dropped it on the floor. The grooves, filled with solid fuel, inflamed. Blue fire ran over, drawing an inverted sun with the rays reaching toward the center of the circle, toward Ignaz. The gloom dispersed. Orange and red washed over the walls.

“Fuck!” Ignaz yelped and thrashed against the pillory as the fire roared, rising high. His eyes rounded as he watched the flames stretch their arms toward him. A thin layer of sweat glossed his skin, and his breathing hastened. “Fine, you won. I am getting scared.”

“Why? There’s no need to be.” Seth smiled and picked up the flogger. He stepped over the fire approaching the pillory, stopping between the grooves. “Don’t you trust me?”

Ignaz didn’t reply. With a flick of his wrist, Seth struck. The place on the stomach where leather licked skin paled, then reddened.

Muscles bulged beneath Ignaz’s skin. He swallowed, and the familiar thirst returned to his gaze. His fists clenched as he shifted. His chest rose, chasing a shuddered breath. Seth struck again, hitting his thigh.

A part of Seth wavered. He wasn’t sure the show he’d prepared for Ignaz would be enough to satisfy him, hence he kept running the flogger over the mottled skin, warming it up, sharpening the sensitivity. Ignaz licked his lips, and color crawled up his chest and flooded his face. His skin glistened as microscopic droplets of sweat beaded all over him.

Seth stopped breathing, watching him glow with pure, untainted light. The light demanded Seth kneel and kiss every inch of his body, satisfy his every desire, and lift his every trouble.

How come I’ve never noticed how bright you are?

“Seth…” A weak voice hauled his attention up.

“Hm?”

Ignaz’s eyes flickered between his. “Don’t look at me like this. You make me feel weird.”

Seth glanced down. In the trembling reflection in the water bucket, he read thirst; the same thirst splashing in the depth of Ignaz’s soul, desperate and needy.

Shaking his head, he looked away. He shuffled to the workbench and soaked the flogger’s tails in the mix of rubbing alcohol and water. When he faced Ignaz again, the boy stood still, watching him with feverish curiosity. The flames danced around his feet, but he no longer paid them any attention.

His Adam’s apple bobbed, and his gaze chained to the heavy tails as he licked his lips, probably anticipating the strength of the impact.

Filling his lungs with the dry air, Seth pulled back. The wet tails slapped against Ignaz’s hip with a loud smack, splatters of water flying around. Low and hollow, the echo rolled through the basement.

“More,” Ignaz begged, voice ringing like icy glass. His gaze drifted and clouded as his focus shifted inward. Seth gnashed his teeth.

“No, Ignaz, look at me.” With a downward strike, Seth licked Ignaz’s chest, right over his left nipple, then soaked the flogger again. He hit the same places, with a decent distance between them, hoping that the more water Ignaz’s skin absorbed, the less likely he would receive any damage.

When flames danced in the patches of wet skin, Seth brought the flogger to the fire. The air sparked. Blue flames crawled up.

“No-o-o… Seth.” Ignaz shook his head and lifted to his toes, flattening himself against the pillory.

“Yes. Just like I promised, I’ll kiss you with fire.” Seth’s wrist flicked, and burning tails licked Ignaz’s hip. The mixture of rubbing alcohol and water caught on fire, burning blue.

“Whaaa!” Ignaz tensed, freezing. His eyes rounded; gaze chained to his burning skin. Sharp, hoarse breaths broke out of his chest as his fingers clawed at the wood of the pillory.

Seth approached, kneeled before him, and patted down the flame with the back of his injured palm. As he withdrew his hand, he leaned closer and blew on the slightly reddened patch. He looked up to catch Ignaz’s gaze, brimming with terror.

A sharp exhale broke out from Ignaz’s chest, and a droplet of sweat skated down his temple. Catching air with his open mouth, Ignaz bent forward and closed his eyes. His fists unclenched, then clenched again. “It doesn’t hurt.”

Seth grinned. “No, it doesn’t.”

“Do it again,” Ignaz finally looked him in the eye, gaze full of resolve.

Seth got up, swirled the flogger. The fire sang in the air as he drew back, and the flogger lashed across Ignaz’s ribs. Wet skin ignited. Ignaz tensed, fire reflecting in his dilated pupils.

After waiting for a few seconds, Seth patted the flames out. Ignaz’s chest pulsed beneath his palm, and at that moment, Seth realized that he’d broken one of Ignaz’s rules. He lifted his gaze to see an expression of shocked realization.

Hands dropping, he retreated a step.

“I got carried away. Won’t happen again,” he said quietly, but the echo, as if playing a prank on him, dragged his voice around, distorting it into a snake hissing. He cringed, fetched the wet towel from the bucket, and squeezed it in his hand, water rushing to the floor.

“No…” Ignaz paled as if he didn’t realize yet what was happening. “It’s fine. No need for the towel.”