Chapter 2.
Daniel straightened in resolve and stepped closer. He glanced around one more time, to be certain they were alone, and spoke lowly.
"I need help. You see, my fa..."
"I don't trade in alleys." The boy interrupted, voice little more than a murmur, and Daniel clenched his jaw uneasily. "This way." He turned and moved fast down the dank passage, clearly expecting Daniel to follow.
Daniel felt a sharp bolt of panic and considered, very strongly, turning tail and hiding in his safe warm bed. The consequences quickly followed and he half-ran to catch up, flinching when his boot squelched into something rotting.
"Hurry up!" The witch hissed, but didn't slow, as he turned a corner.
He was led down narrow, twisting streets, some filled with dark and desperate souls - but none of them bothered Daniel, not with a witch by his side.
The streets eventually widened and the pale light of dawn was accompanied by a mist of rain.
"What's that?" The witch demanded, when Daniel checked the cover of his basket.
"It's, uh, c-cinnamon swirls." They were cold now, but the dough was still fresh and soft. Daniel lifted one and the boy snatched it from his fingers.
He tore into the pastry with no manners whatsoever; chewing with his mouth open and moaning loudly. "Oh, this is good!"
Daniel watched with wide eyes, feeling equal parts of disgust and intrigue.
The witch's face was a lot clearer in the cold light. He was tall - nearly a head taller than Daniel - and his cheekbones were high, lips thin, and the kohl around his eyes was smearing in the rain. He wasn't beautiful, like Christopher, his features were too sharp for that. But he was...arresting.
The witch reached into his basket, without asking, and devoured a second pastry. Daniel found his lips twitching. The boy might be ill mannered, but it was always gratifying to see his work appreciated.
"Mm." The boy licked each of his tattooed fingers and his steps slowed. "Here we are."
Daniel started and looked up. His attention had been so riveted, he hadn't even noticed the old inn. It looked inhospitable to say the least. The windows were bordered up and parts of the woodwork was charred, as if it had survived a fire.
There was no visible lock on the scuffed wooden door and the boy pushed it open. "Come in."
Daniel took off his hat, clutching it with icy fingers, and ducked gingerly past a hanging of animal claws and small red stones. They scraped over his head, and shoulders, and clacked unsettlingly into place behind him.
The walls were lined with apothecary cabinets - filled with vials, scrolls, books, taxidermied creatures and trinkets. Bones, crystals and skulls lined another wall, along with some mysterious hairy lumps.
Daniel frowned and leaned closer, only to careen backwards with a horrified shout. They were tiny, wrinkled heads with their mouths stitched shut.
Daniel heaved for air and nearly screamed when a hand touched his arm. The witch smirked at him.
There was no distinguishing his pupil from his iris. It was black as ink with no reflections at all - just a mat darkness - and Daniel remembered Tristan's words all those years ago. They have no soul...
"I thought you wanted to trade."
"I-I-I," Daniel took a trembling breath, "I d-do."
The boy led him through a door into a kitchen. The shop was freezing and Daniel's teeth chattered.
The witch opened an old creaky cabinet and pulled out a few tins and two cups. "Light the fire."
For a moment Daniel just stared blankly. To order a guest about, much less a customer, went against everything his parents had taught him. But a single dark glance had him kneeling by the fireplace.
He placed his basket on the ground, swept away the ashes and piled wood inside. There was a red marble bowl containing a few pieces of flint, on the mantle, and in a short time he had a fire blazing.
"Very nice." A hand swept over his head and Daniel received another shock. No one, aside from his parents, touched him so familiarly. Another boy certainly wouldn't dare; the gesture could be misunderstood.
The fingers in his hair tightened, until his scalp twinged, and the witch moved him aside to hang a small cauldron of water on a hook above the fire.
"You can hang your coat by the door." The fingers released him and Daniel stood with that same odd pull in his belly. The pegs were little stone skulls and he reluctantly hung his coat on one.
The witch spooned herbs into a copper teapot and moved around the kitchen, lighting candles and oil lamps.
Daniel stood uneasily by a tall wooden table, until the boy told him to sit. The chair was high as a bar stool and he clambered up to perch on it awkwardly.
The water in the pot boiled and the witch poured it into the pot and threw a bundle of sage into the fire. The smell of it burning filled the air and Daniel took a slow breath. His eyes were scratchy with exhaustion and the warmth softened his cold bones.
"Drink up." The boy placed a cup in front of him and sipped his own tea.
Daniel swallowed. He'd also been taught never to decline a host's refreshments. But he was certain that none of the people his parents had in mind had shrunken heads in their shop.
"I didn't poison it." The boy snapped and Daniel jolted, heart thundering.
Those black eyes were now hard and narrowed and Daniel quickly reached for the cup. The tea was peppery and bitter. But it warmed and he sipped again.
"You've been up all night?" The witch's brow had smoothed and his voice was now slow and quiet.
Daniel knew he was being manipulated, but anything was preferable to an angry witch, and his shoulders sagged with relief.
He sipped his tea and nodded. The boy asked him where he lived and who his family were. But he didn't seem particularly interested in answers and Daniel had a feeling he already knew.
He was growing more tired by the second and his eyes kept blurring in and out of focus. The boy's pronounced collarbones showed past his necklace and his small nipples were clearly outlined through his shirt.
Daniel felt another stir, lower than his belly, and he hurriedly looked away, taking a big gulp of tea. His trousers were uncomfortably tight and his thoughts kept scattering.
"I came here because...because of..." he frowned, looking into the cup. The witch's chair scraped against the floor and arms were suddenly folding around him, squeezing firmly.
"Poor baker's boy." The witch murmured in his ear. "You are like that, aren't you?" Warm lips pressed to his neck and Daniel shivered.
"Always wanting to touch. But never allowing yourself to." A palm pressed to his crotch and Daniel moaned. It felt so good, it almost hurt.
He set his cup down with a clatter and leaned into the embrace. Yes, it had been hell - now that a boy was touching him he could admit that - all those years knowing he was different, then reaching the age where innocent affection deepened. And he knew he was sick.
His heart pounded in his ears and his eyes stung. His arms felt heavy, but he managed to dig his fingers into that wild mess of hair and pressed a clumsy kiss to the boy's mouth.
A hand smoothed up his back, gripping his nape and a tongue pushed past his lips. The witch tasted of the bitter tea and sugary cinnamon from the pastries.
A push against his knees had the boy's hips fitting between his legs and Daniel couldn't suppress a groan when a hard stomach pressed against his erection.
Time faded and he wasn't sure how long it was, before he came up for air and stared down into those black eyes. The chair was high and the witch had to tilt his head back to look at him.
"Did you drug me?" Daniel panted, even though he already knew the answer. He should care. But his body was burning up and the boy's lips were distracting him - all flushed and swollen - and Daniel leaned down to taste them again.
"Just a little." The witch's mouth stretched in a smile and he stepped back to offer Daniel a hand down.
His feet felt heavy on the ground, too soft for walking, but he managed to stumble beside the boy into a dim room. It was much colder in here and he shivered.
Beds lined the wall, divided by black curtains, and unsettling trinkets adorned a chest of drawers. Daniel carefully didn't look at them too closely.
He would much rather stare at the witch, who was unbuttoning his shirt. His body was still that of a boy - torso long and thin - but defined with lithe muscle that hinted at a bulky physique in the future.
The marks on his fingers continued up his wrists, fading at his elbows. When he turned to throw his shirt onto a chair, Daniel gasped in horror. His entire back was covered in an anatomical depiction of a human spine and the organs underneath.
Daniel hurriedly focused on the more pleasing reveal of trim buttocks - as the witch pulled off his pants and walked to a basin in the corner. His cock was long and uncut between his legs and his body would have been beautiful, if not for the tattoos.
The witch glanced back. "Are you just gonna watch? Take your clothes off."
The cold air was alerting his mind a little, but Daniel's prick was still pulsing, and his entire body was buzzing with a mix of excitement and dread.
He might never have this chance again and he fumbled with his clothes. The witch rinsed his neck and his crotch, then stepped back to run his eyes leisurely over Daniel.
Daniel shivered with a flash of vulnerability and resisted the urge to cover his groin.
The boy sneered and his cold, wet fingers brushed over Daniel's belly, raising goosebumps. "So fat."
Shock blazed through him and Daniel slapped the hand away. If he'd been half as coherent as he usually was, he'd never have had the courage, or the stupidity, to strike a witch.
"I am not fat!" He exclaimed and white teeth flashed in the dark.
"You are!" The witch cackled and caught Daniel's arm, pulling him onto a mattress.
Daniel simmered, even as he moaned when his dick slid against the boy's hip.
Sure, his cheeks were a little plump (he worked in a bakery, after all) but no one could accuse him of being fat. He'd frequently been complimented on his looks...by old ladies. He decided to keep that to himself.
"I'm not..." He muttered and groaned when a hot mouth pressed to his throat. "Y-you're just...too skinny." He gasped when teeth bit punishingly into his shoulder.
The witch rolled, until he rested heavily on top of Daniel, bodies fitting perfectly together. "You are." The boy insisted and reached for a jar on the shelf. "Smooth and soft," He unscrewed the lid and scooped his fingers inside, "like a marzipan pig."
Daniel's mouth fell open and he spoke, before he could think. "Sod you!"
The witch's black eyes widened and then he was howling with laughter. He slammed the jar back on the shelf and leaned down to kiss Daniel hard, still chuckling.
Daniel's eyes closed and he opened his mouth wide, wrapping his arms around the boy's neck. It was hard to hold onto anger, when a warm slippery tongue was in his mouth and a firm body was rubbing against him.
The witch bent Daniel's leg, and sticky fingers slid between his buttocks and wormed into his asshole. Daniel jerked and his cock twitched hard.
He should have been shocked, repulsed, but his body was burning up and the pressure just felt so good. It didn't even sting.
His chest heaved and he mouthed the boy's salty neck, feeling those tattooed fingers move in him, sliding in and out.
The muscles beneath his fingers were damp and tight - and a hard cock was bruising his thigh.
"More." He gasped, spreading his legs and arching his spine. He didn't even know what he was asking. "More."
The fingers left his ass, leaving him achingly empty, but then a dick was pressing inside. And, this time, he felt the stretch.
"Aaahh." He arched his neck to fill his lungs with air, but the boy gripped his jaw and forced their mouths back together.
Daniel's breaths hissed rapidly through his nose, as a hot column of flesh filled him up. When the boy's hips pressed against his buttocks he stilled and drew back to stare down at Daniel.
"Alright?" One hand was gripping Daniel's hip and the other was folded around his head.
"Ye-yeah..." He panted past the pressure, "God, yes. So good. I can't believe I haven't..." his voice cut off in a gasp when the witch moved slowly inside him.
"Poor thing. You've been hiding for so long." The hand by his head stroked into his hair and the witch leaned down to breathe in his ear. "Well, you don't have to hide anymore."
The words cut into his heart and Daniel's lip trembled. He wrapped his arms tight around the boy's neck and the cock in him pulled back, nearly sliding out, and then slammed home.
It was fast and deep. As deep as Daniel needed it to be and involuntarily sounds escaped him with each thrust. The witch's breaths were ragged against his neck and the entire act felt like ownership. As if the boy was staking claim. And Daniel loved every second of it.
"Harder. Harder." He moaned and liquid pleasure scorched through his veins, until everything became achingly tight, and he came hard.
Teeth sank into his lip and bit through the skin. The boy sucked, drawing blood into his mouth, but Daniel barely felt the pain; lost in overwhelming pleasure.
The witch's teeth released him and he howled into Daniel's shoulder, hips jerking and chest shuddering.
Heat gushed into him, semen filling him up, and the knowledge made him shudder and clutch the boy tighter, ass clamping to keep it inside.
Blood ran down Daniel's chin as their heartbeats slowed and his lip began to hurt. "Ow."
The witch lifted, reaching for the jar again. "Multipurpose, this stuff." He said quietly and dabbed it over the wound. The bleeding instantly stopped and the pain dulled.
The boy licked the blood off Daniel's chin and his mind couldn't even summon disgust or fear. He felt wonderful. Better than ever and he pulled that messy head closer and nuzzled his cheek into the black strands.
The boy smiled against his throat and kissed his skin.
"M'name's Daniel." He mumbled. "What's yours?"
The witch shifted, until Daniel's head was tucked beneath his chin. A hand swept firmly through his hair and settled across his eyes. "Sleep."
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