Splathouse Shorty: Wine Cup
Note: This story was previously posted a few years ago on my Tumblr. As I was reviewing flagged posts, I found this and figured I’d share it. Enjoy. -J
There you are, my sweet.
Oh, come now. You know better than to be shy around me. Pull yourself from the shadows. Let me see your face. There you are-it always warms me so to gaze upon you. I see you listened to my last instruction-that’s a dear. Clothes lie, and I want the truth from you.
After all, I’ve never hid myself from you. A flick of your eyes was all it took. It was quick and chaste-just a glance. But I laughed. Do you remember that? How you trembled when I did. To this day, I still believe you thought I was going to eat you.
I gave it a thought-but the meal I enjoy most requires you breathing.
I told you to come out of the shadow-why do you stand back, even still? It’s not as though I can’t feel your warmth. I knew the moment you stepped foot here.
You were so afraid that day. Yet you had the gall to raise your blade. You sputtered an oath, and stood your ground. I liked that. I liked that, even shaking with fear, you were willing to give your life. To a worthless cause. To a god that’s never shown it’s face. There’s beauty in that devotion. Misguided, but beautiful nonetheless.
It made my mouth water.
Then I laughed, and you charged.
The funny thing about causes like that? They’re such an easy fix. Take away the fervor, take away the protection, and out goes their power. Out goes the puffed chest, the bicep hone by fighting. What remains isn’t a husk-but a vessel. One waiting to be filled again.
Oh, and I filled you. To the brim. Don’t you remember?
I’ve certainly not forgot the way your knees shook. The way you clutched that tunic, the cross wide and red upon it.
You’re blushing, pet.
I so love when you blush.
It’s rare I’m surprised. Past the blood and death and steel, things grow so routine. The hours bleed into weeks and years down here. All these men with their fluster and bravado-I don’t remember their faces. There’s been women too, but I can’t remember them. Not because it makes it easy, but because there’s so many. They’re so alike, so same in nature it grows tiresome to notice them.
But you were different. A vessel that didn’t shatter.
You came back.
I know where your hand is. I don’t need light to see that, to hear it. To feel your want from across the room. So I shall ask once more-come out of the shadows. Come here, and embrace me. Feel my warmth again. Let me pour every drop of longing into you again.
You’re not the only one that needs more than this.
Don’t be afraid.
There you are-Heheh, I was right about your hands. Such a naughty thing. You couldn’t help yourself though, could you? I’ll spare you this one mercy.
On one condition, though. Press your lips to mine. Please. I ask nothing else of you but that.
You’re so soft against me-We’ve got to fix that as well, don’t we?
That’s a dear-sit right against my lap. You’ve nothing to fear from it. Though you never did, did you?
My sweet little wine cup.