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Chapter 105: Jaya


May 26, 2016 by Lyn

She – or he- had never been one to let bullies get to her – or him, and it bothered her how unhappy Kennie seemed lately, so Jaya made a point of sitting next to her in Biology class on Monday. There was no time to talk to her during class, not with the pace Pelletier set, but when class was over, Jaya lingered, catching the mouse-girl’s eye.


“Hi?” Nerves radiated off of Kendra, and, under that, a little bit of pleasure. “I’m not supposed to be talking to other guys.”

“I’m not a guy.” She waved her tail to cover up the sheer strangeness of that sentence. “How’s things? We don’t get to talk anymore, since eperu class is over.” She drifted slowly towards the hallway, Kendra trailing along.

“Things are doing fine.” There was a flatness to the words, in contradiction to her spike in frustration. “I’m learning panida now,” she said, with more enthusiasm, “with Professor Fridmar. That’s ‘beasties,’” she smiled. “That’s what he called it, at least.”

“That sounds fun,” Jaya agreed. “I’ve got hugr, emotions, with Professor VanderLinden. It’s…”

“Hey freak! I thought I told you to stay away from her?” Ofir’s anger wasn’t the most impressive thing in the world, but it was still enough to startle Jaya as the boy stormed towards them in the hall.

“We have a class together,” she said, startled at how defensive she was – and at how scared Kendra was.

“Pelletier doesn’t have that kind of class, not like your mentor, freak. Maybe I should rearrange your face and we’ll see how you shift then.” A faint radiance was emitting from the older boy, granting him a slightly more intimidating mien, as he set his fists on his hips.

Freak. She wasn’t scared yet, although maybe she ought to be. Male or female, she didn’t have the bulk that Mark did; she couldn’t assume because he’d taken this asshole down easily, she’d be able to as well. “What is your problem?” she asked angrily. “We were just talking.” Was every Keeper in this place stupidly possessive of their Kept?

Ofir moved faster than she remembered; maybe he’d been practicing, or maybe she was a little surprised, despite all evidence, that he’d actually hit a girl. Her cheek stung, and she raised a hand to it gingerly as Ofir spoke. “You don’t listen real well, do you?”

“Not generally, no.” She glared at him. “What the fuck is your problem?” she snapped, as it sank in that he’d really just hit her.

Ofir hit her again, with a more solid punch to the nose. “Tell your Keeper to put a damn leash on you,” he snarled. “Hey!” another voice shouted from down the hall, closing fast. “Get your hands off her!”

That wasn’t Ty. Jaya, both hands to her nose and getting a bit cross-eyed from the pain, didn’t know whether to be relieved or upset. She looked up anyway, a little surprised to see Melchior rushing to her rescue.

Her surprise was nothing like her assailant’s, though. “What the fuck do you care?” “Get away!” the goblin-boy yelled, staggering Ofir with a right cross out of nowhere.

Jaya stepped back prudently, feeling more than a bit weird about this. Tell your Keeper to put a damn leash on you. What was Ty going to think about this mess? Nothing, if you don’t tell him. The thought was a guilty one, and she tried to focus, instead, in Melchior. What the heck was he doing?

“The hell… oh, fuck this,” Ofir said, stepping back. “You want her, you can have her. Come on, Kendra.” Melchior stepped up protectively in front of Jaya, who stared at the goblin’s back for a moment in confusion while blood dripped from her nose. Had she just gotten…

“Did you just rescue me?”

“Uh.” Melchior turned to face her as Ofir and Kendra fled. “I guess I did,” he said sheepishly.

“Thanks.” She tried to shift her nose so she didn’t sound so stuffed up, but something moved painfully in there, like an ice pick driving into her sinuses. “Fuck, ow.”

“Oh, hey, I can fix that, hold on.” He raised his hands to her cheeks, and she wondered if the sudden warmth there was only the contact. “Jasfe Tlacatl Jamian cy’Linden,” Melchior murmured.

The pain went away, and the bleeding, leaving her clear-headed enough to notice which part of her name he’d used, and which part he hadn’t. The warmth in her cheeks now was definitely not just his hands. “Thank you,” she murmured again.

“Hey, anyone could’ve done it, he’s not so big,” Melchior demurred, but a touch of color was rising to his cheeks as well. He hadn’t taken his hands off her, either, although his Working was finished.

“Anyone could have… but you did.” She swallowed hard; if Ty came on them like this, he would throw a fit and ground her for life. “Look… what are you doing after class?” She had to get him to stop touching her, even though it felt nicer than it had any right to.

“Nothing really; you can come over if you want. I mean, I’d like that.”

“I’ll see you right after hugr class, then?” And wouldn’t that be fun?

“That sounds great.” He hesitated a moment, then gave her a quick peck on the cheek before retreating.

She hurried to PE, feeling the kiss burning on her cheek the whole time, and barely remembered to wash the blood off her face before Sheen and Kai saw her.

By the time she was done with hugr class, she’d had time to regret her snap decision. Ty was going to kill her. Ty was going to flip out that she’d gotten in a fight in the first place. Ty…

…was necking with Ivette, pressed up against the wall in an embrace that was two thin piece of cloth away from conceiving Ty’s fourth child. Jaya turned the other way and headed to Melchior’s without a second thought.

He welcomed her in without fanfare and closed the door. “So, um, hey.”

“Hey.” She resisted the nervous urge to switch back into boy form. “So… thanks. Ofir was kinda quicker than I thought he was.”

“Ofir’s an ass. And, well… you needed me.” He perched on the edge of his bed, fingers twiddling nervously.

“I did,” she admitted. She moved towards him a step and a half, and then back a half step, every bit as nervous as he was. “Could you… could you drop your Mask?”

“Huh? Um, okay?” His true face displayed no less discomfiture.

She sat down on the bed next to him, taking her time arranging the tail that seemed suddenly to be in the way, and studied him for a moment. There were an awful lot of teeth there… but she wasn’t really worried about him biting her. Before she could lose her nerve, she leaned in and kissed him. This was not the chaste peck on the cheek of earlier. After a moment’s startlement, he leaned into the kiss, and she could feel the surging rush of emotions from him.

It was heady, that much feeling, that much desire. Being with Ty never felt that overwhelming. Ty. Ty was going to kill her. Ty was busy necking with Ivette and would never notice. She wrapped her arms around Melchior and kept kissing him.

His hands moved to her shoulder, her back, gentle but urgent, his touch full of the same need she could feel boiling up from him, bursting forth like a volcano. She had a moment for nerves, for second thoughts, for oh crap he’s a guy and I’m a girl and… but it was all washed away by the strength of his desire. She tugged at his shirt, his need to feel her skin translating to her own need. He was warm under her touch, almost feverish. His want was like nothing she’d ever tasted before.

His shirt came off easily, and she barely noticed how he’d moved to help her before his hands were on her again, on her back and stomach, sliding up under her own shirt.

Uh-oh It was only a passing thought, and then she was helping him get her shirt off. He had a nice chest, she paused to notice, and the ears weren’t really that bad, once you got used to them. She kissed him again, before she could pet his ears, her hands firmly on his shoulders.

He had no trepidation in kissing her back this time, but his hands weren’t so well-behaved. His fingertips played over her bare skin like it might burn them, a beautiful, reverent hesitance she’d never felt from Ty. It was nothing short of amazing.

Her own hands were quickly getting over her initial nervousness. His back was smooth; she’d almost expected ridges, like Anwell, or vestigial wings, but his skin was perfect and human, his pants loose enough she could slip her hands in between his belt and his skin.

Am I…? His desire – or was it hers? – didn’t leave much room for thought, so she kissed him in lieu of thinking about it.

She barely noticed when his hands moved up to her chest, except for the fiery needles of desire his fingertips shot through her. He leaned his head down and to the side, and her lips followed him hungrily, bearing them both down to the bed.

Oh, dear. The thought was overwhelmed by the realization that they were both still wearing too much clothing. She reached for his pants, balked a bit – this wasn’t like undressing Tya; there was going to be a guy under that zipper – and reached for her own pants instead.

She got them off, ignoring the button when it gave her too much trouble and just shifting her hips a little slimmer until they slipped off, only to have a moment of panic, of oh, God, when she realized that his pants were coming off, too. She reached for his desire, for the warm feeling she’d gotten when he’d rushed to her rescue, and the panic subsided. Then his hands were on her again, gently caressing her side, hugging the curve of her down and over her hip, and the panic wasn’t even a distant memory as his lips sought hers once more.

“Yes,” she murmured. It seemed important to say it out loud. “Yes,” she repeated, and kissed him again.

“Jaya,” he whispered softly in return. His voice was filled with longing, even as his fingers crept under the top of her panties.

“Melchior.” God, she was really doing this. He was really doing this. “I’ve never…”

“Never?” His hand stilled, molten against her flesh. “Not even with Ty?” So many thoughts sprang unbidden to her mind: Ty’s image, his persistent pressure for her to give this to him, her own nervousness, the worry that she wouldn’t be good enough. Over it all, though, was the consistent throbbing of Melchior’s emotions, his caring, his want, his need, and more importantly, her own singing in counterpart. “No. I don’t know… Teach me,” she whispered.


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