Page 40 of Runaway Magic
The warmth on Fourteen’s face retreated, and Cym hated himself for it. “Cold. Empty. It’s like I’m walking around inside a giant meat-locker with unbreakable walls. I can see what’s outside, but nothing out there can affect me. At least that’s how it was until you showed up.” There was a slight upturn to his lips at the last sentence. “After that, things got complicated. Now things break through even when we aren’t touching, and it’s disorienting.”
Fourteen moved to the head of the bed and grabbed Cym, manhandling him until his back was pressed against Fourteen’s chest and Fourteen’s back was against the wall. Cym noticed that Fourteen made sure to maintain skin contact with him the entire time.
Once Fourteen had Cym settled comfortably between his legs, he wrapped his arms around him and said sullenly, “I don’t know how normal people deal with emotions all the time.”
Cym would have given anything to not have been the one to put the lost tone in his voice. He was about to apologize when he felt another question form in his mind. He didn’t want to make Fourteen any sadder, so he tried to hold it in. As he wrestled with it, he noticed the question had a pink tinge to it.
Were the questions coming from him? Or his magic? The thought startled him, and the question broke free. “Do you want it to stop?”
“No!” Fourteen’s response was instantaneous. “Anything is better than being empty. And this? With you?” His arms tightened, hugging Cym tightly against his firm chest. “No, I won’t give it up.”
Being pressed against the hard lines of Fourteen’s body was making it hard to think. Cym squirmed and twisted until herelaxed his hold enough to allow him to turn to face Fourteen. “I’m sorry. I feel like every time you’re happy, I ask you a question that makes you unhappy again.”
Fourteen buried his face into Cym’s neck and pressed his lips against sensitive skin before pulling away to look at him once more. “It’s okay. You’re the first person in a long time to care enough to ask me anything about myself.”
The urge to protect Fourteen struck Cym like a rock to the gut.
How could anyone not have that reaction? Fourteen was a big, sexy man with soft and squishy insides, and he’d been reduced to nothing more than a weapon of mass destruction. No one should ever be allowed to hurt him again.
Cym blurted out, “I want to help you. Anything you need. Anything you want, I’ll give it to you.” He didn’t know how he’d do it, but somehow Cym would find a way to make good on his words.
A sad smile appeared on Fourteen’s face. “You’ve already done enough. There’s no need for you to do more.” He ran a hand down Cym’s arm and squeezed his hand.
“You saved my life. Several times. Even if I didn’t…” Cym bit back what he wanted to say which was something along the lines of,Even if I wasn’t becoming hopelessly attached to you, I’d still help you.He took a deep breath and tried again, but the next thing his mind offered was,Even if I didn’t want to ride you til your wheels fall off, I’d still help you.
Stupid brain. Fourteen needed help, and all Cym could think about was getting his V card punched.
He changed tactics and stopped focusing on himself and started thinking about what The Company had done to Fourteen. What kind of monsters would do such a thing to a child?
Anger surged up hot and prickly, and Cym’s hand clenched around Fourteen’s. “You didn’t deserve what they did to you. No one should have to go through what you have. Don’t norms have laws to protect people from something like this?”
“Laws don’t apply to The Company. Too many important people are in power today because of us. Because of them.” Fourteen corrected himself.
Cym threw his arms around him. The sudden movement of the hug forced Cym to break away and grab his throbbing head. He crawled off of Fourteen so he wouldn’t be tempted to throw himself again. It would be better for them to keep the cuddling and touching to a minimum until they had sorted things out more.
Once the pain in Cym’s head died down to tolerable levels, Cym promised, “They are never getting you back.”
Fourteen reeled backward like Cym had slapped him, then he repeated dully, “They are never getting me back.”
Cym’s stomach lurched at the tone in Fourteen’s voice, and he searched the man’s eyes. What he saw there made him gasp. “Fourteen, what’s happened? Did I say something wrong?”
Fourteen said nothing, his face void of all expression
“Fourteen, answer me!” Cym waved his hand in front of Fourteen’s face, but his eyes didn’t track the movement.
“I need more information to comply,” Fourteen stated, his eyes staring straight ahead.
“Is this a joke?”
“I need more information to comply.”
Unwilling to believe Fourteen would be the kind of person to take such a horrible joke so far, Cym panicked. He jumped off the bed and then, after realizing he had no plan, sat back down on the edge of the bed and twined and tangled his fingers together uselessly.
What was wrong with Fourteen? One minute they were wrestling around on the bed, and the next they were baring their souls. Now Fourteen was a lifeless doll sitting at attention at the head of the bed. Had asking him such personal questions broken him in some way? Or was it something else?
What had Cym been saying when it happened? He had told Fourteen that The Company was never getting him back, and the Fourteen Cym knew vanished and became a cold, empty shell.
Cold.
