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Message-ID: &lt;62964asstr$1398165003@assm.asstr.org&gt;
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From: Adrian Mailenna &lt;adrian@spamfree.1000gears.com&gt;
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X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Mon, 21 Apr 2014 11:38:04 -0400
Subject: {ASSM} Elves (M/M, fantasy)
Lines: 163
Date: Tue, 22 Apr 2014 07:10:03 -0400
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Love is blind and knows no gender.
There are four versions of this story.
You'll want to use a fixed-width font to read it, and something seems to 
be adding a stray period on line 27. Sorry for any inconvenience.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Carefully he folds his clothes,    | Carefully he sheds his armor,
murmuring a prayer to the darkness | murmuring a prayer to the
as it chills his milky skin. The   | moonlight as it warms his inky
water beckons, insistent,          | skin. The water beckons,
impatient, lapping at his toes.    | insistent, impatient, lapping at
How many times, he wonders, how    | his toes. How many times, he
many times has he heard its call?  | wonders, how many times has he
It doesn't matter. Once was once   | heard its call? It doesn't matter.
too many, but now a thousand times | Once was once too many, but now a
could never be enough.             | thousand times could never be
                                   | enough.
                                   | 
A breeze whipers across the points | A breeze whipers across the points
of his ears, singing praises of    | of his ears, praising the betrayal
sins he already knows too well.    | he already knows too well. The
The stars glitter on the cool,     | darkness swirls beneath the cool,
dark water, watching him try to    | bright water, watching him try to
ignore the hot, empty tension he   | ignore the hot, insistent tension
feels growing inside. He swallows  | he feels growing inside. He
hard. His House would kill him if  | swallows hard. His House would
they knew. They would strike every | kill him if they knew. They would
honor from his name and scourge    | strike every honor from his name
his life from history. None of     | and peel his flesh from his bones.
them would keep his memory.        | Forever they would curse his
                                   | memory.
                                   | 
. . .                              | . . .
                                   | 
Some things are worth the risk.    | Some things are worth the risk.
                                   | 
Dressed only in the moonlight, he  | Dressed only in the darkness, he
slips into the lake, wading        | slips into the lake, wading
deeper, until it licks up around   | deeper, until it licks up around
his thighs. He flushes hot at his  | his thighs. He flushes hot at his
memories and the thrill of         | memories and the thrill of
distant, latent shame. Silently he | distant, latent shame. Silently he
begins to swim, as he's done so    | begins to swim, as he's done so
many times, and his doubts wash    | many times, and his doubts wash
away in the inky-black ecstasy of  | away in the starry-white ecstasy
water over skin. His House is      | of water over skin. His House is
wrong, he decides, as he has       | wrong, he decides, as he has
decided so many times before;      | decided so many times before;
nothing so good could ever truly   | something so good could only be
be a sin.                          | the sweetest kind of sin.
                                   | 
Across the lake the shadows stir,  | Across the lake the moonlight
and with them a fire in his heart. | stirs, and with it a fire in his
He swims faster at their silent    | heart. He swims faster at its
promise: knowing turns to wanting, | silent promise: knowing turns to
and wanting turns to need.         | wanting, and wanting turns to
                                   | need.
                                   | 
A spirit meets him in the water,   | A spirit meets him in the water,
blacker than the night. Every time | paler than the light. Every time
it's hard to believe his eyes, and | it's hard to believe his eyes, and
to drown beneath his second look   | to drown beneath his second look
the echo of deep, ancestral fear.  | the echo of deep, ancestral rage.
They float together, silent,       | They float together, silent,
circling, watching, breathing. He  | circling, watching, breathing. He
looks almost too much like his     | looks almost too much like his
twin, like a brother reflected     | twin, like a brother reflected
across the light.                  | across the night.
                                   | 
A thousand thoughts race through   | A single thought races through his
his mind, a thousand questions, a  | mind, a single question, a single
thousand dreams, but he has no     | dream, but he has no words. He
words. He never does. He fears he  | never does. He fears he never
never will.                        | will.
                                   | 
Perhaps it doesn't matter; perhaps | Perhaps it doesn't matter; perhaps
the kiss is all he needs to know.  | the kiss is all he needs to know.
                                   | 
They touch. A moment's hesitation  | They touch. A moment's hesitation
melts into embrace, into the warm  | melts into embrace, into the warm
and nervous softness of skin on    | and nervous softness of skin on
skin. He nuzzles against his       | skin. He nuzzles against his
lover's cheek, nibbling on the     | lover's cheek, nibbling on the
line of silver studs that glitter  | line of onyx rings that glitter up
up his ear. His scent is sweet and | his ear. His scent is crisp and
dark, intoxicating, like lavender  | warm, intoxicating, like oranges
and myrrh.                         | and pine.
                                   | 
His lover's arm slips around his   | His provocateur's arm slips around
waist, insistently demure, a       | his waist, insistently demure, a
moonless autumn night made fine,   | moonlit summer night made fine,
strong flesh. With every visit he  | strong flesh. With every visit he
needs that touch a little more.    | needs that touch a little more.
Their lips brush, just the barest  | Their lips brush, just the barest
touch, a quiet sharing of breath   | touch, a quiet sharing of breath
and the lingering invitation to    | and the lingering invitation to
more. He knows that, one night     | more. He knows that, one night
soon, he will give himself over to | soon, he will give himself over to
those charms. One night soon he    | that seduction. One night soon he
will swim with his lover back to   | will swim with his provocateur
his distant, alien shore; one      | back to his distant, alien shore;
night soon, they will lie together | one night soon, he will lie
on that black, forbidden sand; one | submissive on that white,
night soon he will break his       | forbidden sand; one night soon he
silence with the sounds of passion | will break his silence with the
too long denied.                   | sounds of his spirit binding to
                                   | his will.
                                   | 
When that night comes, he knows,   | When that night comes, he knows,
he will surrender forever to the   | he will surrender forever to the
pure and elemental blackness that  | pure and elemental moonlight that
has haunted all his dreams. It     | has haunted all his dreams. It
will be a worship far, far         | will be an addiction too long in
overdue.                           | the making.
                                   | 
By touch he shares his loneliness, | By touch he offers his desire,
letting his hands wander, the way  | letting his hands wander, the way
they do in the nights he spends    | they do in the nights he spends
alone. Closing his eyes, he        | alone. Closing his eyes, he
follows the long curves of his     | follows the long curves of his
lover's sides, smooth, unbroken    | provocateur's sides, smooth,
strokes from ribs to hips; he      | unbroken strokes from ribs to
feels his warm and slender         | hips; he feels his warm and
softness, and the muscles firm     | slender softness, and the muscles
beneath. Telling the same,         | firm beneath. Telling the same,
solitary tale, his lover's fingers | solitary tale, his lover's fingers
caress his thighs, and he          | caress his thighs, and he
whimpers.                          | whimpers.
                                   | 
When he can bear to look again,    | When he can bear to look again,
his reflection watches back,       | his reflection watches back,
mirrored darkly in eyes the color  | mirrored brightly in eyes the
of pomegranate wine. This time he  | color of dandelion wine. This time
almost finds his words, his simple | he almost finds his words, his
declaration of his unrepentant     | simple declaration of his
need, but they catch in his throat | unrepentant need, but they catch
and the still night air.           | in his throat and the still night
                                   | air.
                                   | 
His courage falters, his mouth     | His courage falters, his mouth
half-open, and he pulls himself    | half-open, and he pulls himself
closer, trying desperately to lose | closer, trying desperately to lose
himself in a deeper, harder kiss,  | himself in a deeper, harder kiss,
in the black-chocolate luxury of   | in the pink-candy luxury of those
his lover's lips and teeth and     | enchanting lips and teeth and
tongue. The words are precious,    | tongue. The words could end his
but they slip away, and he looks   | torment, but they slip away, and
to the side, trying to fight back  | he looks to the side, trying to
his welling tears.                 | fight back his welling tears.
                                   | 
Suddenly it doesn't matter; his    | Suddenly it doesn't matter; his
slim, dark lover clutches back,    | slim, pale lover clutches back,
just as hard, making silent,       | just as hard, making silent,
tender promises of kisses yet to   | tender promises of kisses yet to
come.                              | come.
                                   | 
Tonight, that's all he needs to    | Tonight, that's all he needs to
know.                              | know.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-- 
-Adrian Mailenna
( Website down for reconstruction. )

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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